#The way this man pulled me through my big girl job just long enough

[reesdomain]

Sylus landing in about a day now I’m ready to fucking pop😮‍💨🫡

Literally throbbing in anticipation. I’ve been waiting months just for them to give me the man of my dreams (Sylus is the literal embodiment of my ideal Prince Charming since I was a little girl)

[buckets-and-trees]

Sweet, sweet Aspen. You have been a very bad girl. This soft!dark guy, your boss, caught you doing something wrong—something that could easily get you fired—but he decided maybe, jussst maybe, he should keep your indiscretion, and your resulting punishment, between the two of you. After all, he’s been dreaming about filling you with his cock for ages 😏

(I picked this GIF because it looks like he’s saying, “On your knees.” lolll)

well, dearly beloved sister ho, you know we were thirsting over a particularly ... inspiring gif.

I don't think you anticipated your ask to spawn THIS, but... here we are! THANKS FOR POPPING MY ANDY CHERRY!

Title: I'm Your Man Characters/Pairings: soft dark!Mafia!Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 3k Summary: You've spent weeks working to pull off the perfect night for Andy Barber's big charity event. A rush job, but you worked meticulously and diligently over six weeks to coordinate the biggest event of your career to date. You weren't the only one with a plan for the night.

Content Warnings: extortion, explicit smut, DUBIOUS CONSENT, spitting, oral - male receiving, spanking, vaginal intercourse, breeding kink, unprotected sex

Logistical Notes: A NAUGHTY submission @the-slumberparty's Naughty or Nice challenge. Prompts incorporated are in bold.

Additional Notes: I didn't want to write a summary. There's only enough plot here to smut you up. Dividers by @rookthornesartistry and @firefly-graphics.

You sit up straight when you hear the door to Andy’s home office open behind you.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” he says as he strides across the room and takes a seat in the leather executive desk chair.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Barber,” you reply. Every part of your body is tired – tired in a good way from the long day of work – so you were eager to get home, soak in your tiny tub, and crawl into bed for the rest of the weekend, but it hadn’t been an incredible inconvenience when he’d asked if he could speak with you before you left.

“Tonight was exquisite, you did well,” he doles out the praise, and you try to quell the blooming in your chest. In the six weeks working with Andy Barber to plan the charity event you’d just executed for his foundation you had seen that he wasn’t one to casually compliment, hard to impress. You had taken more and more satisfaction out of each meeting, email, or text exchange as you consulted and then presented him with options for the event when he had fewer and fewer notes, knowing you had cracked his taste and gained his approval. He’d been your toughest client to date, but by far one of the most rewarding as he had excellent taste.

“Nearly perfect,” he adds.

Your smile falters ever so slightly, and suddenly your chest floods with a chill. “Nearly perfect? I’m sorry, sir, what didn’t live up to your expectations?”

This was far from your first event, you had built an incredible portfolio over the years, and you knew you were finally ascending to be one of the best event coordinators on the eastern seaboard – you had received an email request from a goddamn Vanderbilt to plan a wedding for them in a year and a half that you were going to respond to and accept in the morning. You weren’t arrogant, but you’d worked damn hard and knew you were good.

“You.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “I – what?”

“Only one misstep tonight.”

Your brain flies back through the evening, reviewing every moment, raking through trying to determine what you could have possibly missed.

“I’m very particular about what belongs to me, and I cannot abide theft.”

Your jaw drops.

“Empty your bag.”

Now your whole body is buzzing with incredulity. You shake your head.

“I know what’s in there.��

You almost didn’t take this job when it landed in your lap. He was the reason you knew you should have said no. There were whispers about his reputation, his real businesses. But you took the initial consultation because the pitch was more money than you’d made over the last three years. Then when you’d met him, he’d been so normal, so nice, maybe a little charming, and up until this moment you had convinced yourself there was no way any of those rumors had been right.

But before you even put your hand in your bag, you knew you were wrong to have thought he wasn't all those awful things.

Not one, not two, but three Rolex watches nestled in the bottom of the main pocket. Watches you'd never seen - wouldn't even have known where to find them.

You scoop them out and drop them on his desk, eyes burning with tears. “Why?”

“Yes, why? I was already giving you a fat paycheck. What a shame when I had just given your name to the Vanderbilts’ social secretary for their son’s wedding a few days ago, I’ll have to reach out and let them know.”

“No,” you breathe.

“I’ll have to discreetly let everyone in my network know it’s better not to invite someone in their home with such light fingers.”

Your breath hitches and your hand flies to your mouth to stifle an almost sob, trying to hold back the onset of tears. “Andy, no, please.”

His smile softens. “There we are,” he coos, “you finally called me Andy like I’ve told you to so many times.”

He leans forward resting his arms on his desk.

“Now, if you go upstairs, be a good girl, put on what I left for you in my room, and wait for me, maybe I can make all of this little misunderstanding go away.”

His steel blue eyes are hard, they demand an answer.

You cock your chin up wishing you could say no, wishing you could even scowl at him, but aside from the heat and hurt in your eyes, you know you can’t do anything more without risking further ruin, so ultimately you let your chin drop and nod, resigned to the impossible power this man wields.

“Now we’re back on track for a perfect night, sweetheart. I’ll be up soon.”

You don’t know how long he makes you wait, using the promise of soon as another show of his power, but long enough that your knees hurt from sitting back on your heels in a submissive, kneeling position with your head lowered, hands folded in your lap, and back to the door as the card in the white box left for you had instructed.

Also in the box had been a set of exquisite black lace and silk balconette bra and cheeky underwear. That they fit you like a glove had been both humiliating and alluring.

Even though Andy was the reason you almost said no to the job, even though he was the humiliating reason you were in this position – extorted into a nearly naked state, no question of what was to come – he was also the reason you took the job.

Dread pooled in your stomach, but along with the dread and humiliation, there were rivulets of shameful desire.

You had taken the job for the money and for how quietly charming he had been. He had never outright flirted with you, but he always left you with the question of whether he was. You worked hard for him because it felt good to win his approval. He praised you and you had preened under his intense blue eyes every time. You had forced yourself to keep everything professional.

All for nothing since you were in the farthest position of professional now.

When you finally hear him enter the room, your sit up straight again.

He tsks and says, “Head down, sweetheart.”

Andy comes around to stand in front of you. You see his perfectly polished shoes, the perfectly tailored trousers. His hand moves to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him. He runs his thumb over your lips, circling them.

“Open your mouth,” he says.

You do.

He leans closer, then spits in your mouth, and you blink in surprise, a surge of humiliation running through you, but his grip on your jaw is powerful, so you don’t move away.

“Close your mouth but don’t swallow.”

He moves back from you then, and he begins to silently undress. He had already taken off his jacket, but he doesn’t hurry as he unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt, the buttons down his chest, and then shrugs it off his shoulders. He places it nicely on a plush armchair on the side of the room. Next he sits on the edge of the bed and removes his shoes and socks.

The way he doesn’t watch you but does all of this in your line of vision, knowing you have to watch, is another move meant to communicate who is in control of this situation. Still holding his saliva on your tongue is starting to become uncomfortable. Your instinct is to swallow, but you don’t know what disobedience may mean with Andy, so you fight the urge, not wanting to tempt any more of his darkness.

He stands and takes the shoes and socks to a large closet off to the side of the room, and when he returns, he stands directly in front of you again, takes your jaw in his hands again.

“Show me,” he says.

Your eyes watch his face you open your mouth, showing him the pool of saliva.

“Good fucking girl,” he murmurs. You hate the small bloom in your chest those words immediately invoke again. He spits into your mouth for a second time, then with a caress that is too tender he urges you to close your mouth. “Swallow.”

You do.

Andy unbuckles his belt, unbuttons the top of his fly, then unzips and pushes down the waist of his trousers with his briefs, and reveals his hard cock for you.

He’s big.

You had gotten yourself off to the thought of him a few of times late at night alone in your bed, most recently a few days ago, and you hated that you had since you were now here like this, forced on your knees in front of him.

Your core is pulsing with heat at the sight of him though – bigger than you had fantasized, and bigger than any man you’ve been with previously. You know he’ll fill you in a way that will ruin you for other men. You want and dread it.

“Take me in your mouth, sweetheart,” he commands.

Instead of forcing his cock into your mouth, this is more possessive, having you submit yourself to pleasing him of your own accord. You know every way he’s manipulating you.

“If I have to tell you one more time,” he trails off, leaving the end open for your imagination.

You plant one hand softly on his hip and wrap your other hand around his shaft, leaning forward to take him in your mouth. As you push forward, he groans. He won’t hold back when he’s pleased with you – he never has, he knows it affects you. His hands go to either side of your head. “Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

You do as he says, sucking him, bobbing up and down his length, and for a while he lets you control the speed and the depth, but his hands let you know he can and will control this when he wants to. After the first couple of minutes, he makes this clear when you push back to take a breath and wipe the mix of your spit and his pre-cum dripping out of your mouth and his hands firmly prevent you from moving off him. Instead, he pushes you down slowly – more slowly than you had been pumping – and doesn’t stop until your nose hits his lower abdomen. You try to push against his hips, and he pushes his hips forward with you still anchored on his dick. Your eyes well up.

“So pretty,” he says, “imagined you like this, but you’re more gorgeous than I thought you would be.”

Something in your chest melts. You wish he wouldn’t say things like that. It makes you weaker – weaker for him. He pulls back just an inch or two, then pushes his length into your throat again.

“That’s it, sweetheart, my perfect fucking girl.”

You whimper, and the tears spill over.

His right hand moves away from your face and around behind him. He’s quick, and when you can see his hand again, it’s to discover he’s taken his phone out of his back pocket. He takes photos of you, angling the phone a few different ways. Then he tosses the phone onto the chair where he’d laid his shirt.

Then he resumes his small, concentrated rutting, only easing out just enough to make the thrust back in worth it for him. As he does, he groans, swears, wipes tears from your cheeks, and the moment before it’s too much, he finally pulls you off him.

You fall forward, gasping for deep lungfuls of air, but he’s already putting a hand under your arm and hauling you up.

“Get on the bed,” he instructs, man handling you with surprising ease, doing most of the work your weak and aching legs can’t do to hoist you up onto his Alaskan king bed.

He’s immediately up as well and behind you, the last of his clothing stripped off. His fingers quickly undo the clasp of your bra and pull it off your shoulders and toss it away. He pushes you forward, toppling you down to the mattress. He slaps your ass, and you gasp and jerk. He brings his hand down on your round flesh again, with another sting, but the second one has you moan, and he lets out a satisfied, “Yes,” before giving you a third slap, the hardest, and you moan again, but this one more guttural, and you’d be mortified if you weren’t shocked over the way it translated to pleasure so quickly to your brain.

Then he yanks the lacy underwear roughly down and off your legs, tossing it away as well. He pushes between your legs behind you, splitting your legs open, and his fingers seek your cunt.

He hums in approval, “So wet for me. Ready for me.”

You huff and pant.

He leans over your back, pressing you down into the mattress. “Are you eager for me?”

“Andy,” you whine.

“Say it and I’ll fuck you good, sweetheart.”

You don’t want to. You bury your face in the covers.

He slaps your ass again, and you yelp.

“Admit you want me to fuck you.”

Another slap.

Another.

“Yes,” you finally concede.

“To breed you.”

You gasp, but he’s already hauling you further up the bed, and he drapes himself over your back, arms caging you in on either side of your body. His legs push yours apart as he leans down to press kisses over your shoulder blades, at the base of your neck, along your spine. He uses one hand to guide the thick head of his cock to your leaking entrance. He doesn’t care to stretch you. “Take me in your cunt, sweetheart, it’s mine.”

The only mercy is that he slots himself in slowly.

You press your hands up against the headboard and concentrate on taking deep breaths, on trying to relax your walls completely, because he’s entering you, in you, filling you, unrelenting invasion and it’s pleasure and pain and too much and not enough because every moment of more fullness is exquisite and you can’t even think about holding back the sound he’s pushing out from your diaphragm, up your throat, and out of your mouth, because that’s how it feels as he's filling you.

Once’s he’s fully inside of you, he presses his mouth right next to your ear. “I’m going to fill this pussy with my seed.” He anchors one hand on your hips, then begins pull out, only so he can start thrusting back in. “I want everyone to know who you belong to.”

You’ve never had an orgasm only from vaginal penetration, but the way he fills you as he fucks you, and at this angle, making you almost forget to keep breathing, you wonder if this is how you’ll go, strung out as his cock punishes you with the pleasure, but then his hand works around beneath you and his fingers quickly find your swollen and aching clit. You cry out, and one of your hands reaches back to cling to him, fingers clutching into his hair. He nips at your neck, chuckling darkly.

“My pretty girl, my good girl, taking my cock so well, you close?”

An immediate, “Uh huh,” is all you can manage.

“Then let go,” he commands, pinching your clit harshly.

You see stars, and you cry out for him.

Hearing you scream his name and feeling you clench around him is all he needs, and he pumps his cum into you, saying more dirty, filthy, possessive things, but you don’t know what the words are, because you’re completely lost to coherency.

He sinks his full weight on top of you when he’s completely spent.

Both of you are silent while you come down, heartrates returning to normal.

You wait for him to say whatever he’s going to torment you with next, but he doesn’t speak.

After more long moments, he finally pushes up enough to turn you from your front to your back. He cups your jaw again and strokes his thumb over your cheek. Your breath hitches at the intimate gesture in the aftermath.

“Aw, why are you crying now, sweetheart?”

No, you didn’t want more tears, and not these - the soft tears. You try to look away, but he forces your face back to look at him.

“I would have slept with you if you’d asked, Andy, why did you have to do it like this?”

“Because this is so much more than that, sweetheart. I didn’t want to just sleep with you, and I needed you to know from here on out that you’re mine. I own you. I’m very particular about what belongs to me. I didn’t want you to have any illusion that there’s a choice here.”

He brushes the tears off your cheek.

“I’ll have my men move your things here in the morning, and we’ll elope in a few weeks. I’m closing the deal on a resort in Lake Como, doesn’t that sound perfect? We’ll tie the knot and then spend our honeymoon there – we can stay all summer if you want.”

You hesitate.

“No one else is gonna take care of you like I do. Now I asked you, ‘doesn’t that sound perfect?’”

“Yes, Andy,” you whisper.

“Of course, it does.” He finally kisses you – and it’s dangerously soft. Warm lips engulfing yours, insistent, sucking your bottom lip between his. You whimper, and he licks his tongue into your mouth, lapping you up. He rolls over with you, putting him back on the mattress with you on his chest. He holds you pressed to him with one hand, the other hand securing your head so you can’t escape his kiss until he’s done kissing you.

It isn’t until you think you might pass out from how breathless you are that he finally breaks off the kiss. He shifts his pelvis up against you, his cock hardening again. “And I was serious about you carrying my child. But first you’ll ride my face until I’ve made you cry for a good reason, and then I’ll fill you up with more of my seed. You’re not leaving this bed the rest of the weekend.”

ARE YOU OKAY? AM I? DO WE EVEN CARE IF WE'RE OKAY?

read: -> THE MORNING AFTER

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Gone Too Long

Summary: You and Dean both agree he should never stay away so long again.

Pairing: Dean x Reader (You)

Warning: Smut. All smut. Unprotected PinV sex. Vaginal fingering. Light edging. Very soft dom!dean. Dirty talk.

Word Count: 709

A/N: This is a fic request from @suckitands33 for my 2K Followers Celebration. The gif above is the one she sent. Thanks for sending in this amazingly hot gif, my dear!

Hope you all enjoy some good old fashioned Dean smuttiness. 😊

Your skin was so sensitive and charged from Dean’s hot, seeking mouth, and his strong, probing fingers, that the shower spray felt like little needles hitting you, making you cry out in a desperate need for fulfillment.

“Please, Dean.” You whimpered.

But Dean just wrapped his big hand under your chin, fingers splayed wide over your cheek, and bit the corner of your jaw, making you gasp. 

He growled against your ear. “God, you beg so pretty, sweetheart. You make me wanna give in, have you coming on my cock over and over. But I promised I’d make you pay for the month of teasing and tempting you put me through, and you know I’m a man of my word.”

You whined. “You were the one who stayed away for thirty three days.” You could have told him how many hours and minutes he’d been away too, if he’d let you. But as it was, he wouldn’t let your insolence stand. He spun you around to face the wall, and you splayed your hands against it to try and keep steady.

“I was doing my job. I was killing the monster. But you…” He slipped his hand through your slick from behind, making your legs wobble. He wrapped his arm around your waist to steady you as he continued doling out your torturous pleasure along with his scolding admonishment.

“You were the very naughty girl who sent me text after text of dirty words, and filthy pictures.”

He slipped a finger inside you and you gasped, dropping your forehead against the cool tile. Your mouth stayed open in a moan as Dean stroked your sweet spot slowly. Water sluiced down your cheeks and into your mouth as you tried to catch your breath to speak.

“If you didn’t like them, you didn’t have to open them.” You argued back cheekily. “You could have refrained from sending me replies, replies that only left me hornier than ever and so fucking desperate for you.”

You cried out in frustration as Dean pulled his hand away from you. But then he yanked your hips back towards him so you were forced to bend at the waist. Digging his blunt fingernails into your fleshy hips, Dean teased his cock at your entrance.

“Is this what you’ve been waiting for, sweetheart?” He growled into your ear so you could hear him over the rush of the water. “Have you been dreaming about me while you’ve been in that big bed all alone? Just imagining this moment? Hmm? Have you?” 

All you could do was nod, but that seemed to be enough for Dean because he took hold of himself to notch his tip inside you before slamming himself home in one slick thrust. You shouted out your pleasure, but it was lost in the sound of the driving water that soaked you both. He pulled out and slammed back as he bit your shoulder blade gently, sucking the water from your skin.

“Fuck baby, I missed you too. So much. Missed this beautiful, clenching pussy and the way you grip me so tight. Missed putting my hands on you, and the way you sound when I do. And fuck I missed the taste of you.”

He slammed into you again as he sucked and nibbled on your neck, spreading a wave of heat across your skin that had nothing to do with the warm water coming down. His voice was rough and harsh when he spoke. 

“Make me promise to never be gone that long again.” He said with another hard thrust.

You ignored the lack of logic in his request. Instead, you reached behind you and pulled his mouth to yours as you twisted towards him, straining for his lips. He kissed you rough and deep, before you pulled away slightly and bit his bottom lip hard, making him grunt at the slight pain, and throb inside you.

Your voice was desperate and aching as you demanded his promise. “Don’t do it again. Promise me.”

He shook his head and licked into your mouth with a deep groan. “Fuck no, I mean yeah. I promise. Never again.” 

He gritted the words out through clenched teeth as he slammed into your g-spot with ruthless precision, making you scream out your climax at last, and drag him along with you.

@lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @jzackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

@whimsyfinny @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

@aylacavebear @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl

@hobby27 @waywardcheshire @livya99 @k-slla @leigh70

@eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2

@fanfic-n-tabulous @traiitorjoe @lastcallatrockysbar @b3autyfuld1sast3r

[bunnys-kisses]

and your daddy don't like me

phillip graves

cw: age-gap, pwp/smut, daddy kink, "brat" taming, semi-public sex, airplane sex, bimbo-appearing!reader, authority kink like the fic? request your own! really like the fic? leave a comment! reblogs are always encouraged!

it was cut and dry, get you from location a, onto the plane and then to location b. graves knew that it was that simple, while he thought it was a little ridiculous that your father was paying this much to get you from point a to b, the pay was nothing to scoff at.

that was the plan, until he laid eyes on you. pouty lips, bratty demeanor, the aura on you that said that you always got your way. it stopped the man dead in his tracks when he saw you. it made something twist in his gut when you started to verbally tear into one of his men.

"excuse me, girlie." he said as he put his hands on his hips, "i don't quite appreciate the way you are talking to my men." he tilted his head to the side, "no need to be a brat, ma'am."

you looked to him and stepped forward, your heels clicked with the floor. you almost stood at eye level, but the dark look on his face made you frown, "are you in charge here?"

"yes ma'am, just as your father instructed."

"i don't need a small army to get to singapore. it's a flight and the old man is paranoid." you replied. you had your hands on your hips and philip was itching to just grab your waist.

"ma'am, we're just doing our job. your father has a big amount of money in his bank account. the last thing he wants is to pay your ransom."

you sighed, "then i guess it should only take one man to get me there." you looked at the other shadows, "right?"

graves smiled, stroke his ego a little harder and see what happens. he gave the signal for his men to shuffle out. they went through all the effort to get to you, but their services won't be needed. he put his gun in the holster on his thigh and held out a gloved hand. he smiled at you, "well then." he said, "i guess we should be heading to the airport."

you placed your hand in his, and he led you to the car with you carrying your belongings in a bag and suitcase. he was even nice enough to put your luggage in the back of the car before he opened the door for you to get in.

once he started to drive, that was when the sexual energy started to form. he could see how your dress hiked up when you moved in the backseat. he could see your lovely thighs and wondered as he pulled onto the highway, what color were your panties?

you looked at him, that innocent look in your eye was masking your devilish nature. you'd be a good girl for him, right? let him do his little task to get you to sinagpore.

"mister..." you said.

"philip graves." he said, he looked at your briefly, "is something the matter?"

"oh, nothing." you blushed and looked away.

he reached out and touched your thigh, "are ya scared of flying?" he asked.

you nodded, "yeah, ever since i was little." you frowned at him.

"well don't worry, it's my job to keep ya safe. you don't have to worry about anything ma'am." he gaze you a charming, boy-next-door grin as he pulled into the parking.

you giggled, "thank you, sir."

-

you hated your father, you found him to be an obnoxious pig. he thought less of you because you were a woman. like you couldn't make your own choices! but when you were seated in the private plane with grave, you realized you had many choices during this flight.

graves was even nice enough to buckle you in before take off. you fluttered your eyelashes at him and smiled, "thank you, sir. may i hold your hand?"

he chuckled, "of course, ma'am." he held open his hand and you took it. he noted how smaller your hand was to his. he found it cute.

you held on tightly to his hand as the plane too off. your nail dug into the flesh of his hand. when the plane was safely in the air, you cuddled up close to him, "it's a long flight."

"yes it is. but don't worry, it'll go by fast." he wrapped an arm around you. you looked up at him, at least he was getting the memo.

coyly, you leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. you said, 'i've never met a gentleman like you." then giggled.

he chuckled, "well, i'm not like most men." he reached out for you and combed his fingers through your hair, "i just think a girl like you should get the attention she needs." you kissed once more.

"there's no one but us and the pilots." you remarked.

"that is true." he touched your face, his calloused fingers grazed your soft cheek, "why don't you get a lil more comfortable." he reached over and undid your seat belt, "i have to make sure you get there safely."

you giggled, "if my father found out what you were doing, he'd have you killed!" your face was close to his again, you reached out for him.

"aw, don't worry. your daddy doesn't need to know anythin'. just make sure my cum doesn't spill out when you see him." he laughed and gave you a wink.

you leaned in and kissed him on the lips. once unbuckled, he lifted you onto his lap and pushed up your skirt. he smirked against your kiss when he felt you were wearing no panties.

"were you hopin' to fuck my men today, ma'am?" he asked, "

"no, sir. why would you suggest that?" you looked down at him, your perfectly manicured nails in his hair, you pouted a little, "my daddy says i'm a good girl, so why would i want to fuck your men?"

he looked up at you and smirked, "oh silly girl." he said slyly, "i know you better then your daddy knows ya." he started to undo your blouse, "i was wonderin' on the ride to the airport what colour they were. but, i should've guessed there'd be none." he laughed.

the sight of your thin white bra made him salivate like a dog. his cock stirred in his pants. you gripped his hair and tilted his head back. you made eye contact. you said so sweetly, "i am a good girl."

he patted your ass and chuckled, "of course, doll. the best girl there ever was. i'm just teasin'." then gave you a nice broad smile.

you lifted your skirt to expose your pussy to him, "do you want me, mister graves."

he chuckled, "of course. now be good for me." he reached between your legs and gave it a gentle touch before he undid his pants and got his cock out, "now why don't we get a little more acquainted."

you leaned in once more and kissed him as you slowly sank on his cock. he groaned into your kiss as he felt your tight heat wrapped around his cock. it felt electric.

"promise you won't tell my daddy?" you asked, your lips close to his.

he smiled, "of course, doll. it'll be our little secret. but i have to know, do you do this for all of the men who fly with your overseas?"

you shook your head, "no sir... well, maybe if they're handsome. but mostly they're too rough and hurt me."

"ah well." he chuckled, "i'd never hurt ya. pretty things like you need to be kept safe from big bad men." he then exhaled deeply as you started to move your hips. it almost took the wind out of him.

you held onto his shoulder, the roughness of his shirt contrasted with the softness of your hands. you knew how to work your hips, you didn't make it so far with daddy's money alone.

he held your hips and felt his heart race as you rode him. he prided himself as being a man who protected. he made sure little angels like you were out of harms way. the world was a big scary place and you needed a guiding hand to keep you nice and safe.

you continued to move your hips and felt his cock deep inside of you. you were impressed by his size and it had your heart racing as you gave just the cutest little humps.

he watched your breasts bounce with all of your movements. he leaned in and kissed at your chest, trying his best not to leave marks. he didn't want yer daddy to know.

you fucked like a couple of bunnies in the lavish seat of the plane. you felt your body grow hotter. you could admit that graves was handsome, more handsome than some of the men that your father sent to you.

he was pretty in an all-american way. but if you got too close, he'd devour you whole. your hips bounced on his cock and his dug his fingers deeper into the flesh of your hips. he loved when he was feeling and seeing.

he took in the sight of you, this was the best task he had in a long time. he got paid handsomely by your father and he got a good feel of your sweet sex. maybe he'll get more chances to taste and fuck you.

you yanked on his hair and pouted once more, "i want to do it differently, sir."

"no way, i want to see you orgasm like this. i want to see your 'o' face.' he chuckled as he started to thrust up into you. he continued to watch you move against him as the two of you fucked on the leather seat.

it wasn't long before you felt the heat of orgasm in your gut. your nails dug into his shoulder you watched him with your tongue partially out of your mouth. you felt like such a slut! you were a good girl!

he humped up into you. he grit his teeth before he climaxed inside of you. the thought of pumping you full of his seed made his cock twitch before it grew softer.

you rode it a little bit more until you finished as well. you squeezed your eyes shut and let out a high pitched but sweet noise. you fell into his arms and held onto the front of his shirt.

you rubbed your pussy up against his soft cock. you let out a sweet chuckle as you looked up into his eyes. all he saw was the softest eyes and glossed full lips.

he played with your hair and smiled, "well then. why don't you get comfortable. you'll need your sleep to see your daddy."

you giggled, "well... i only have one daddy now." then rubbed a little harder.

graves believed himself to be a gentleman so who was he to deny such a lovely girl another round of the mile high club.

-

"he was alright, daddy." you said on the phone in your hotel room. you looked at your nails and sighed, "how much are they paying you? right.. right.."

your father talked on the other end, he asked questions about graves as you looked out onto the port. you sighed and crossed one arm, you tilted your head to the side, "no, daddy. i didn't have sex with him!" you were obviously lying, but it was bad enough you were doing your father's dirty work, "maybe i can get some liquor into him on the flight home. but you better send me to puroland for this!"

the sex was the icing on the cake. your main objective was to milk graves for all the information he was worth. you played dumb for him, make him feel like the big strong man! it wasn't hard, actually it was too easy.

but you learned long ago that most men are stupid. it just happened that graves was also a good fuck too. <3

xoxo, bunny

[kikyoupdates]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑏𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

prologue | story masterlist | next

Itadori helps you to your feet, and you can’t help but stare at your hand, at the way that it’s tightly grasping his. Even now, it still feels like a dream. You’re actually holding Itadori Yuji’s hand, like it’s no big deal.

Honestly, it’s almost impossible not to fangirl.

But perhaps it’s a good thing that your nose is bleeding right now (not really), because it prevents you from making a total fool of yourself, and so, with great reluctance, you let go of Itadori’s hand and start walking. 

“Man, I’m really sorry about this,” Itadori apologizes again, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I feel awful. I should have been more aware of my surroundings. I know apologizing doesn’t actually help much, but I’m seriously sorry, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you!”

Yes, your nose hurts like a bitch, but being kicked with that soccer ball allowed you to meet him, so in the grand scheme of things, you’re not complaining. 

Still, there’s a lot of blood, so you definitely need to see the school nurse.��

It’s actually for the best that Itadori is walking with you and guiding you along, his hand resting gently against your back in case you sway unsteadily and trip over your own feet. Without him, you wouldn’t have a damn clue where you’re going. It’s the first time you’ve ever stepped foot in this school, after all. Based on what those girls said earlier, it sounds like you’re a recent transfer student or something…? That’s a rather convenient plot device. Although this whole situation is so ridiculous that you would expect nothing less, really.

“Just a bit further,” Itadori encourages. He offers you a bright smile, and you have to squint through your eyes, because he may as well the sun. His protagonist status couldn’t be any more obvious. 

Eventually, you arrive at the infirmary, and Itadori promptly slides the door open and pokes his head into the room.

“Um, excuse me? Miss nurse? There’s a student here who got hurt pretty badly, and she needs help.” 

There’s no response. You follow him and step inside the room. Sure enough, it’s empty, so you can only assume the nurse isn’t here right now. She’s off doing god-knows what. Seriously, what is it with school nurses and never being around to do their jobs? 

“Uh-oh,” you say, a few droplets of blood slipping through the cracks of your fingers and splattering onto the floor. “I don’t feel so good…”

You’re hit by a sudden wave of dizziness, and Itadori catches you in his arms before you can fall onto the floor. Maybe you should have taken him up on his offer to carry you earlier. You already know from watching the anime how abnormally strong he is. He lifts you up as if you’re weightless, then gently places you down on one of the beds. 

“Uh, crap,” Itadori mumbles, brows pulling together in concern. “I’m not that good with this kind of stuff, but for now… just lie down, okay? I’ll get you some tissues.”

You watch him scurry around the room, nearly knocking things over in the process, but he returns to your bedside before long, offering you a needlessly large pile of tissues.

…actually, considering how bad your nosebleed is, those tissues still might not be enough.

“Thanks,” you say, shifting onto your side so that you can face him. You grab a few tissues and press them to your poor, aching nose.

What a terrible first impression. Here you are, having finally met one of your favorite characters of all time, with blood gushing down your face. It’s incredibly unflattering, you have to admit. Most people would probably think it’s pretty gross. You’re lucky that Itadori is the nicest, friendliest person ever. 

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes for the millionth time. The poor guy looks guilty beyond belief. It’s not his fault that he’s got superhuman strength. He can blame the author of Jujutsu Kaisen for that.

“Don’t worry about it,” you wave off, still holding the tissues close to your nose, so your voice comes out a bit muffled. “Accidents happen. I’ll live.” 

“But still! You look like you’re really suffering, and I just—” He stops to sigh. “Anyways, it’s my bad. I can’t change what happened. I just wish I knew a better way to help.”

“Seriously, I’m okay,” you insist. “I don’t want you to keep beating yourself up over it. Um… earlier, I heard someone say your name. Itadori, right? I’m [Name].”

You obviously already know his name. You know even more about him than he does, to be honest. You know what the future holds in store for him, and how soon, his life will change forevermore.

“It’s nice to meet you, [Name].” Itadori chuckles weakly, hanging his head in defeat. “If only we’d met on better terms. After today, I swear I’m never playing soccer ever again. I’m going on strike! Even if those guys keep pestering me to play with them, it won’t happen!”

“There’s really no need to go that far. I promise I’ll be fine.” Hesitantly, you pull the tissues away from your nose. It seems like the bleeding has mostly stopped. “See? I’m already getting better. This is no biggie.”

“Damn. You’re really tough,” Itadori marvels. “Most people wouldn’t be as calm as you. It’s badass!”

No, I’m just too busy fangirling over you right now.

You obviously keep your thoughts to yourself, but it’s impossible to fully suppress the smile that keeps rising to your lips. None of this makes any sense, and truthfully, you can’t help but wonder what happened in the real world—the world you’re from. You wonder about how your parents and friends are reacting to your disappearance, or if you’ve even disappeared at all. Maybe this is some sort of alternate reality. Maybe you’re living within both worlds, simultaneously, without even realizing it.

Ugh. It’s probably best not to think too hard about it. This whole thing is way too trippy.

"The nurse still isn’t here,” Itadori remarks. “I guess it is lunchtime. Well, either way, I’ll stay and wait with you until she’s back.” 

“I appreciate it,” you smile. 

Obviously, the canon plot of Jujutsu Kaisen has yet to kick off, because this is just an ordinary high school, which means he hasn’t met Fushiguro or Gojo at this point. It also means that he’s incapable of seeing curses. But for some reason, you are.

You were able to see that weird insect-like curse from before, when no one else could. That means that you must at least have an above-average amount of cursed energy, right? The curse also ran away when you approached it. Maybe that’s why? Because it sensed that you were aware of it?

Who knows, really. But you suppose it’s a good thing that you’re able to perceive curses. There are some exceptionally dangerous ones out there, and you feel much more at ease knowing that you won’t be completely blind to them.

For a little while, you just stare at Itadori. You make a point of studying all his features, the same features you’ve only ever been able to glimpse across a screen, or while flipping through the pages of a manga. It’s so surreal that you’re able to hold a conversation with him like this. It’s strange—but also exhilarating—to see him looking your way and to know that the smile on his face is directed towards you.

But… all that being said, you know what kind of world Jujutsu Kaisen is. You know how incredibly dangerous the plot will become, and how your life can easily be put at risk. Every fan dreams of being able to interact with their favorite characters, but just because you’re now living in a fictional world, it doesn’t mean you have a death wish.

You won’t be able to spend much time with Itadori. Soon, he’ll go off to Jujutsu High, and you’ll probably never see him again. There’s no guarantee that you’ll even talk after this. The only reason you met was because of some fortunate accident that granted you the rare opportunity to speak to him. He’s a popular guy, after all. There are plenty of other people he’ll be spending his time with.

Still, it was nice while it lasted. You should be content with just getting to meet him at all. You should be grateful for an opportunity that normally wouldn’t exist.

“Oh, there she is,” Itadori perks up. It seems like the nurse has just returned, and he stands up and hastily bows to her. “I’m so sorry! I accidentally kicked [Name] in the face with a soccer ball, and she got really hurt because of me! Please take a look at her to make sure she’s okay!”

“You did what?” the nurse blinks, and she hurriedly glances over at you to find you flashing her a thumbs-up, with a wad of bloody tissues pressed to your nose. A heavy sigh falls from her lips. “Oh, good grief.”

“It looks worse than it is,” you reassure. 

“Let me be the judge of that, please. You should run along and enjoy what’s left of your lunchtime,” she tells Itadori. “Thank you for bringing her. I’ll take care of it, so don’t worry.” 

Itadori frowns. “I hope she’ll be alright. Is there anything at all I can help with? I’ll stay behind if you need me to, just so I can—”

“Everything will be fine,” the nurse insists, unscrewing a jar filled with cotton balls. “Classes will be starting soon, so just let me handle this. Alright?”

“Yeah. Alright. I’m sure you know best.” Itadori looks back at you once more. He smiles in a way that conveys how bad he still feels. “I’ll get going now, [Name]. Again, I’m really sorry for what happened. I hope you feel better soon.”

He leaves moments later, and you exhale softly. This was a remarkably coincidental meeting. The two of you hardly know each other, and you doubt another opportunity like this will arise. It was destined to be a one-time thing. That’s what you instinctively believe.

But of course, you’re wrong.

“[Name], hey! Good morning!”

You blink repeatedly. It’s a brand-new day, and you’re back at school again. Yesterday you went home to find that your parents in this world look exactly like your real parents, except, well, they’re not. They act like them, too. Mostly, at least. In a way, it’s reassuring to have them around, but since they aren’t as bewildered as you are by this new world, you can tell they haven’t been isekai’d. They’re just kind of here. Like placeholders, or something.

Anyways, nothing out of the ordinary happened last night. You had the same kind of interactions with your parents as you normally would. You know better than to question all the semantics, so you’re just going to go with the flow and make the most of this situation.

But right now, you’re rightfully taken aback, because Itadori is grinning ear-to-ear while he waves to you.

“Um, hey,” you reply, blinking yet again. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” Itadori keeps smiling. “By the way, how are you feeling today? I heard you went home yesterday after lunch to get some rest, but the nurse told me your nose wasn’t broken or anything, which is a relief.”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” you nod. “Apparently it’s not uncommon to get a nosebleed after getting hit in the face. It doesn’t always mean it’s broken. So, I don’t need to go to the hospital to get it realigned or anything. Which is good, because I was really dreading that. I heard it hurts like a bitch.”

“I’m sure it does,” Itadori laughs. He stops himself, though, looking very sheepish all of a sudden. “But, uh… seriously, I’m really sorry about what happened. I feel like I shouldn’t be joking around after what I did to you.”

Aw. What a cutie.

He’s a sweetheart, no doubt about it. You wish you could express how much you’re grateful just for the opportunity to even talk to him, but if you tell him the truth, he’ll definitely think you’re crazy. And so will everyone else.

“Don’t stress about it,” you smile. “There’s just a bit of swelling and slight bruising. I’ll be good as new in no time.”

Itadori beams at you. “You’re so nice, [Name]! Thanks so much for not holding this against me. I’ll try to figure out a way to make it up to you in the meantime.”

You keep trying to reassure him that there’s really no need, but he seems determined to right his wrongs. Together, you walk into the school building, quickly lock up some of your belongings, then you head to the classrooms.

“This is my class,” you say, stopping in front of one of the rooms. Yesterday you skimmed through some of your relevant school documentation, like your student ID, enrollment papers, etcetera. You’re a new transfer student, so thankfully, there were a bunch of papers lying around at home for you to consult. 

Itadori tilts his head to the side. “Weird. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you. I stop by here pretty often. A few of my friends are in this class.”

“I just transferred in recently, so that’s probably why.” 

“Oh, right. I think I remember hearing that we got a new transfer student. Are you liking it so far? I mean, apart from getting kicked with a soccer ball, obviously.”

You chuckle softly. “It’s been… good. Um, yeah. I have no complaints.”

Mostly because my memories of this place don’t date back any farther than yesterday.

The hallways are bustling with students hurrying to get to class, so regretfully, it doesn’t look like you have much more time to loiter around and chat. 

“I guess I should head to my classroom now,” Itadori says. “But I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better! I’ll see you again soon, okay?”

“Yeah, see you around,” you smile.

He walks off, and within moments of stepping away from you, some other student comes up to him and drapes an arm around his shoulder. He’s absurdly popular, of course. The kind of person that others naturally gravitate towards.

You smile, heart pounding wildly in your chest. It’s still crazy how this is even happening right now. Talking to him always leaves you breathless, in a sense. It leaves you feeling giddier than you can even put into words.

Even though your nose is still a bit sore, you’re in such good spirits that it hardly even fazes you, so you turn around with a spring in your step.

Only to hastily clear your throat.

“Um, sorry if this is a weird question, but… does anyone know which desk I sit at?”

Lunch rolls around, and Itadori returns. 

It turns out that when he said he’d see you again soon, he meant really soon. You watch, mouth agape, as he excitedly waves to you from your classroom’s doorway. 

“[Name]!” he calls out. “[Name], hey! Over here!”

He’s as expressive as ever, and your classmates don’t even look surprised that he’s calling your name with such enthusiasm, despite you having only just transferred in. Itadori’s so friendly that it’s practically a given he’ll get along with everyone.

You walk over and give him a curious look. “Itadori? What’s going on?”

“Nothing much,” he grins. “Just wanted to ask if you wanted to eat lunch together. My treat! It’s the least I can do for you, all things considered.” 

“Are you sure? You really don’t have to. I packed a lunch from home,” you say, gesturing towards the bento box on your desk.

He scratches his cheek. “Hm, okay. Well, I guess I won’t buy you lunch today, but I’ll definitely do it next time! Did you want to eat together anyways?”

No way.

You can’t believe this is actually happening. It’s crazy enough that you were able to meet him in the first place, but now he’s even going out of his way to seek you out? You suspect it’s mainly because he feels guilty for injuring you and wants to make sure you’re okay, but still.

Itadori Yuji could actually become your friend? 

“Y-Yes,” you blurt, immediately cringing at how excited you sound. “Um, yes. Thank you for inviting me. I’d love to eat lunch with you.”

“Awesome!”

His grin shows no sign of disappearing, and you race back into the classroom to quickly grab your bento box, heart fluttering all the while.

Together, you walk through the hallways, and it looks like he’s leading you someplace. You can only assume it must be his usual lunch spot.

Eventually, he stops in front of another classroom. It has a big plaque above it that reads Home Economics, but there’s also a paper plastered to the door. A paper that says something else entirely.

Before you can even comment, Itadori slides the door open and looks back at you, grinning yet again.

“Welcome… to the Occult Research Club.”

prologue | story masterlist | next

More chapters are available on Quotev and Ao3!

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

🔮 main masterlist! ♡ story masterlist

[eccentricallygothic]

Depraved Old Men! Simon Riley | John Soap MacTavish | König

To help you keep track of the pairs; | Simon & Angel | Johnny & Petal | König & Darling |

Find Part I here.

Warning(s): Noncon/Dubcon, orgy, spanking, unprotected p-in-v, dick riding, anal, missionary, dacryphilia, dark behavior, licking, pinching, biting, age gap, Stockholm syndrome vibes, toxic forced relationships, hair pulling, Sir kink, Daddy kink, size kink, praise kink-ish. MDNI.

A few long months after the first time, when Johnny had forced it into being cut short after only the girls playing amongst themselves on account of not being in favor of the men touching each other's lovers, the ‘meetup’ is at Simon's house today.

It was only recently that the men got into discussing this proposition, as Johnny had been extremely hostile to the idea until König had ‘innocently’ shared his living room's CCTV footage of that night in the group chat. And just as intended, the action had eventually started a conversation about the possibility of such an activity once more. Since the Scot had straight up refused to participate, the other men had carefully reeled him in by dismissing him with, ‘a little humoring yourself never hurts anybody’ until they eventually succeeded in bringing him to an agreement through a very elaborate, slow and cautious process.

And now…

“It's okay, love. You're doing so well for me” Simon cooes, rather uncharacteristically if you ask Angel, as he wipes away Darling's thick tears that keep bubbling out of the corners of her eyes, shaking sideways down her face and hitting the glass table with light pats. “I've got you, Sir's got you~” her smaller body slides up and down the surface with small squeaks from how Simon is gently fucking into her since she's too small and sensitive for a rougher pace, the monstrousness of his girth causing her tiny pussy to clench with each deep thrust. “Tell me” Simon kisses away the salty nectar of her grief. “Do you like what you see?” He is holding her throat in his hand that is nearly twice its size, the rough pad of his thumb grazing against the crevice that has formed between her jaw and neck from how her head is angled upwards to look at Petal clamped around her husband's dick. 

“Ah! You're so big, Daddy! Oh, my God!” Even though Johnny had agreed to this out of his own supposed free will, the way his little girl is moaning and praising König is doing a good job at stirring his ire. “Oh, oh! I am gonna cum again!” Petal shakes as her limbs spasm upon König's mountainous legs that are built like stone, the disks of his muscles shifting under her legs with each thrust he gives her to help her keep bouncing because his cock is too much for her to ride all by herself. 

“Give it to me then, pretty girl” the humongous man rasps in his strong accent, muttering out a thread of incoherent foreign curses before he latches his balmy mouth on one of Petal's hardened nubs, the harsh sucking of his mouth causing his cheeks to hollow as his fingers connect to her sensitive clit. “Mmm… I swear you get sweeter by the second” her back arches at that and she throws her head back, letting out blood curdling moans as her body goes through another nerve shattering orgasm.

As if that is not bad enough for Johnny who has always been a possessive man especially with Petal, the fact that König now demands her to tell him that he's the best cock and orgasm she's ever had in her vulnerable state where Johnny knows her small mind will say whatever she is being told, the stoic way in which Angel treats him with almost an indifference to his cock pumping in and out of her tight pucker fills him with a kind of rage he is not sure he has felt ever before. 

Johnny's hands roughly fish under Angel's body to hoist her up and more pliant to his hold by her tits from where he has her bent over the couch to face Simon fucking Darling deep and intimate with König making a fleshlight of Petal on the side so the pairs form a sort of a triangle, ironically. 

Angel's breaths are heavy and her skin is shiny with sweat, she wouldn't be breathing through a gaping mouth and her skin wouldn't be clammy to his touch if she wasn't. But the stubborn way in which she feigns a disregard for his painful defiling of her perfect ass while holding up a defiant chin to Simon to deny the men their depraved satisfaction unlike the younger girls riles Johnny up to do worse.

And so he crushes Angel's nipples between his fingers before thrusting into her so hard that she nearly doubles over from how his tip hits her guts. “Think you can get away with this shit, can ya?” His accent is so rough in her ear that she can barely comprehend it. “You think I can't break through this tough bitch shit of yours, eh?” Emotion breaks onto Angel's face for the first time ever since she had been ordered to relieve herself of her clothes before being told to bend over.

She cries out from how Johnny snatches her earlobe between his teeth and sinks them down into the tender skin before he grinds it back and forth between them. Her arms helplessly flail at her sides and she blindly claws behind her to try and pull him off. But all she can do is bounce in the air while her ass cheeks clap against Johnny's cock, his fingers cruelly stretching her nipples past the limits of their flexibility and his teeth torturing her into pleading for mercy.

Simon glances up at her from Darling's devastated form. Their eyes lock and though he isn't one to show much emotion, a hint of a smirk plays at his lips. Good. Johnny is finally figuring it out. Angel is not one to back down easily. She has a thing for making it hard for herself and who are they to deny the thrill that she throws their way herself? Despite her rigorous training with Simon ever since he decided her for himself, she has managed to retain her pride. 

And that cannot do.

She must be taught her place. And if Simon is not the one doing it, then who better than his best mate?

Darling turns her head away from her unfaithful husband when he forces yet another orgasm out of Petal. And Simon is right there to swoop in like a knight in shining armor. 

“Oh, you poor little babe” the baritone of his low voice mixed with his accent is like the finest cool malt sliding down a parched tongue. “So cruel to a sweet little thing such as yourself, isn't he?” Darling's bottom lip wobbles in what just may be the most innocent way Simon has ever seen. A fresh batch of tears wells up in her eyes as she struggles to keep her arms folded above her head in the way she had been initially ordered to do. 

Simon lets his warm hands take hold of her sides before he rubs them back and forth to comfort her, his lips capturing hers in a soft kiss and he squeezes her tense hips. The action causes the younger girl to whimper into his mouth, the man's collecting of her legs around his waist making his dick slide in so deep that it hits her deep in her cervix and she cries out.

“S- Sir!” Darling whispers, her face contorted from the painful pleasure. 

“What do you say we show him what he's missing out on,” he catches one of her tears in a delicate kiss on her cheekbone, hot tongue darting out to collect its remainder from her lash line in an elegant swipe next. “Hm?” The vibration of his hum drums into her quivering chest as she pants for breath. There is such a difference in their sizes that whilst she lays on the table, Simon kneels on the floor and still it is her who hangs upwards where his thick cock pumps in and out of her sopping pussy. 

Simon loves it. Because he knows she doesn't mean to, he is aware that this is more devastating to her little mind than it will ever be pleasurable enough, it is clear that she only takes the deep, intimate fucking with the pliance that she does because she doesn't have a choice; he can feel her fear of him. And yet, she milks him with each thrust, whimpers with each pinch and squeeze, moans into every kiss. 

Unaware, unwilling, but still wanton. 

Darling does not have Angel's unwavering will and challenge, nor does she have Petal's stubborn and brattiness, no. In fact, she is the sweet naive wife who accepts what hubby says as the supreme truth. To question or speculate is not in her nature; holding her own against authority a sin to her small mind. 

There is not much that surprises Simon, but when she slowly nods after examining his face with a vacant gaze and her parted mouth closes so she can let out a meek little, “Y- Yes, sir…” The older man nearly bursts into her right then and there.

“Very well, then” he traps her mouth in his in a deep kiss before letting his tongue invade her warm oral cavern at last, his bigger hands lifting her arms from above her head to wrap around his mountainous shoulders before he coils the hair at the back of her head around his fingers and pulls. The action elicits the expected whine out of her and she finally cums, indicating to Simon that he is in since she had been too out of it to let herself loose to his touch and cock before now.

Only one dilemma remains now.

She has come without his permission.

And being out of control, Simon does not appreciate.

. . .

I appreciate and humbly request your feedback as it keeps me motivated. And reblogs help circulate my work <3

[nellielsss]

ɢᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴀɪʀ ᴅᴏɴᴇ, ɴᴀɪʟꜱ ᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ!

╰┈➤ A new outfit and your Fendi shoes ᡣ𐭩

For when your man sees you after you ran your "errands," AKA getting a blowout, mani-pedi, and anything else you might've needed done. Who is he to resist when his chick looks so good? (Songfic inspired by Jumpin' Jumpin' by Destiny's Child.) Toji Fushiguro/Zen'in x transfem!reader (pre-Mamagumi because you are Mamagumi) Includes: Toji Fushiguro (might add more chars later! this is just me testing the waters)

╰┈➤ It's a well known fact that Toji Zen'in doesn't come from a whole lot of money (well, he does; he was just abused and kicked out by said money), but that was never an issue for the man when it came to making it. He could earn plenty of money other ways such as taking up odd jobs, carrying out bounties, etc. So when he started dating your high maintenance self, he knew he'd have to up his earnings in order to provide for you (partner lemme Upgrade U). He's a simple man after all - why wouldn't he wanna provide for you, even if it was just by giving you a few hundred dollars to run your errands? Quite possibly the only thing that he kept from his family was his provider mentality. Never again would he see someone close to him suffer or starve because of his shortcomings.

Hearing the car pull into the lot, Toji knew it was you when you came home from the music that he could hear through the walls—that infectious late 90s beat creeping through his veins. He paused the MMA fight he was watching, turning around as the door hinges creaked open.

"Tojiii, I’m home!" you sang from the doorway, putting your keys away in your cute little Dior saddle (the one Toji got you after saving up several paychecks). Toji walked over with a big grin on his face, encircling his arms around your body out of habit. "Uh-uh, don't touch the hair just yet," you piped up, putting your hands in front of him to stop him from getting too close to you and potentially ruining your perfect hair.

Toji couldn't help but let out a laugh and shake his head. "C'mon, doll, just lemme give you a kiss," he said in that deliciously raspy voice of his. You reluctantly obliged, letting him put his hands on your hips, pull you in for a kiss, and sigh into it. "Now, let's see those nails of yours," he added with a big grin on his face, taking both of your hands and holding them up.

He let out a low whistle. "Damn, baby, that's a good manicurist ya got there. I should give them a big fat tip for keeping my girl so cute." The design in question were pink, blue & yellow nails with some hibiscus flowers & a cute little anime reference here & there (insert your fav Shōjo)—a perfect set for the summertime.

You let out a giggle, pulling your hands back and laughing at him. "Okay, okay, you can touch the hair," you relented, turning your head for extra effect.

"Right, the perfect hair that you don't wanna fuck up” he murmured, shaking his head. "I'm like a bull in a china shop, eh?"

"Yeah, 'cus you're a big brute," you snarked, making him smack you on the ass out of jest. He was a brute, but he knew how to be careful around you. "Nah, but for real, doll, you look fuckin' fantastic," he said in a more serious yet complimentary tone. "That bounce in your hair makes you look mighty fine."

You allowed him to run his hands through your silky, freshly-washed hair, reveling in the way his fingers felt on your scalp. "Feels even better with ol’ Toji’s fingers in it, yeah? I could touch this shit alll day long." He put his hands up when you shot him a look at that statement. "Or... for as long as you'll let me."

His hands left your scalp, only to trail down your cheek, all the way onto your chin. "Can I kiss you, princess?"

"Mhm," you murmured, bringing a scarred smile to his handsome face. He leaned in, giving you a slower, more passionate kiss than before.

"Fuck... y'lip gloss tastes so yummy," he murmured against your lips. "I can't get enough of you, y'know baby? My pretty little princess... I should show you off when you get all this shit done, make everyone 'round the block jealous."

"I was actually gonna go out with my friends later today," you piped up, pulling away slightly. "I was listening to Jumpin' Jumpin' earlier, and it made me wanna go out."

Toji didn't look disappointed at this news; rather, his smile widened. "Yeah? You havin' a girls' night?" He asked, eyebrows raised slightly. You nodded, shooting him another smile.

"Y'know, blowouts last a few days, especially when they're done by a real professional like the one I've been going to for six years. Plus, I know how to upkeep it on my own."

Toji chuckled, shaking his head. "I knew those hair products were for somethin'. Nah, I'm not upset or anything, baby; I'm happy for you—happy that you've got a nice group of girls to hangout with. You deserve it all, sweetheart. The cute outfits, the fun friends; and the sexy boyfriend of 'yers." He couldn't help but reach out and grab your jaw softly, rubbing it and eliciting a big, blushy smile from you. "Aww, would you look at that pretty smile? Love it when you smile like that. I don’t get why you used to be so insecure ‘bout it."

You pulled away once again, not wanting it to go any longer and lead to anything too sweaty. "I promise I'll come right back home afterwards. I won't give any random guys an opportunity to shoot their shot with me," you reassured him. "Y'know, I think you might've domesticated me in a way, Toji. I'm always looking forward to coming home to you after everything's said and done."

"Yeah?" he asked again, amused by your admission. "Well I'm glad, baby. We go together real well, hm?" He couldn't resist the urge to pull you in with both of his arms around your waist, nuzzling his lips into your neck. "I'm already looking forward to your homecoming, princess. I wanna feel those nails raking up and down my back."

"Toji, stop!" You said with a giggle. "You're gonna flatten my hair at this rate." "Oh, yeah? Y'know, even with flat hair, you'd still be the prettiest girl in the room. To me at least." Toji left one last kiss on your neck before letting you go, watching as you picked up the shopping bags on the floor.

"I need to go... put these clothes away before they wrinkle," you said, struggling to balance all the bags on your arms.

"Please, lemme help you," he said, grabbing the bags for you and carrying them to your shared room. He pushed the door open, carrying the bags as if they were light as air, setting them down outside of the closet. "I dunno know why you buy all that stuff if you can barely carry it. What would you do without your boyfriend?" he asked cockily.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head just a little. "Thanks, baby," you said gratefully, pressing a kiss to Toji's cheek.

"Anytime." He eyed the bags curiously, wondering what could possibly be inside of them. A new pair of Manolos? A new dress? He would never admit it, but he loved it when you shopped and bought new things. You always had impeccable taste, and he adored the way you put yourself together. "So, doll," he finally said after mustering up the courage. "Mind letting me see what you got?"

┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆ Mini-skip

Toji made sure that you made good on your word that night regarding trying out your nails. He didn't waste a single time welcoming you home after your girls' night out, taking you right up to your shared bedroom with a grin on his face, sloppily kissing up your neck and peeling off your dress.

Right now? He was all but plowing you into the mattress, as he always did when he fucked your brains out. "Fuck, baby," he growled, looking down at you as he made sweet, sweet love to you. "You always look so... fuckin' good underneath me like this, but that blowout just adds the finishing touch. Even if your... hair's all fucked up, I'll take you to the salon for another one."

You, meanwhile, weren't able to process what he was muttering into your ear. You probably couldn't even discern if he was calling you a whore or asking you to marry him; it just felt so good.

"Fuck, oh, fucking fuck, T-Toji!" You moaned into his ear, moaning and writhing about underneath the big brute's frame.

Toji let out a breathless chuckle at your incoherent babbling. "Never heard you say 'fuck' so many times in one sentence - maybe I could make you say it a few more times!"

He readjusted the angle at which he was snapping his hips into your ass, fucking you even deeper as if that could even be possible. "Feel my dick inside of ya? Rearranging your guts? Shiiit, doll, take it like you mean it. Gonna stuff ya full of my fucking cum, you won’t be able to strut 'yer shit anymore,” he drawled, slapping your jiggly ass with his calloused fingers.

He picked up on the way that you were holding onto him, your hands gripping the muscles that lined his broad back. "Such a bully," you whimpered, "quit bullyin' me, Toji! Y’know I can’t take it when you- you pound me like this!!" You complained, tears welling up in your eyes. He let out a laugh at your pleas, cooing into your ear. "C'mon, baby; I'd never bully you. I don't think bullying involves making you cum over and over again now, does it?" He cocked his head, smiling like a devil at the sight of you so fucked out because of just a few hip movements. "Besides, you know how to take it. I’ve trained you to take this dick. Remember how you could barely move when we first started dating? Shit, I'm the best tutor there is.”

After a few more huffs and strokes of the cock, he asked: “Why don't you... drag those nails down my back, yeah? Leave a few marks on my muscles?"

You eagerly obliged, raking your nails up and down his muscled back. "Yeah, that's it, there you go, my sweet baby. Make my back fuckin' bleed baby girl," he praised, purring into your ear. He threw his head back, the slightly painful scratching making him even harder and hornier (as if that was even possible).

He threw his head back then looked back down at you. "I'm gonna fuck you 'til my back's bloodier than a mary."

Suffice to say, he loved your nails.

© ʙʀᴜɴᴇᴛᴛᴇ-ʙɪᴛᴄʜ77 on tumblr - get your own shit bitches | ca. 6/5/2024

[iaminfamous]

ghostface x milf!reader

i hope yall enjoy this just as much as i enjoyed writing it ❤️

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings ; nsfw, dom/sub dynamics, slight dubious consent, fingering, vaginal sex, rough sex, cheating, breaking in, creampie, counter sex, multiple orgasms.

MINORS DNI

You’re a lonely housewife, who does her best to wait for her husband’s return for work every night. Currently cleaning the kitchen, a yawn escapes you as the night drags on. It’s so late, and you’re already so tired.

So tired that you may have forgotten to lock your doors. You’re practically passing out on the counter in the kitchen, rag in hand. You jolt awake at the blaring ringing of the phone across the room.

Groggy, you pick up your phone, putting it up to your ear. “Hello..?” You expect it to be your husband, but the line is quiet. “Hello……?” You drag, a bit annoyed.

Now, Ghostface has been watching you for a while. Loves how fat your ass is, and how big your breasts are. But, the thing he loves the most, is the innocent look in your eyes. Your cute fucking face that he’s been waiting to make cry. He watches through the window as you hang up the call, and continue cleaning. Hardly a minute later, and he’s creeping inside.

Back turned to him, you gasp as suddenly your hair is gripped, and your body is bent over the counter you were scrubbing. A scream, as the shock hits you, and suddenly a gloved hand covers your mouth. “Let’s use our inside voices, mm?” His voice is so deep, sending a shiver down your spine. “I wouldn’t want to have to kill you.”

You know his threat is real, feel it in your spine. A whimper escapes you at his words, whining at the rough grip in your hair, and the way your huge breasts are forced against the cold counter. Your thin pajama shirt hardly does a good enough job of keeping your slowly hardening nipples warm. “Mmph!” You shutter, gripping the counter for dear life.

You feel tears brim your eyes as an overwhelming amount of fear floods you, and your legs begin to shake. Is he going to kill you? You have a husband—A family! You can’t stop shaking as his large body presses against your back.

He chuckles darkly, loving the feeling of your trembling body beneath his firm grip. His other hand slowly trails down your side, savoring your curves. “Shhhh, no need for all that fuss now. I just want to play a little game.”

He leans in close, his masked face mere inches from yours. The white porcelain gleams in the dim light of the kitchen. “Tell me, Darling... what's a sexy woman like you doing all alone at this hour? Waiting for daddy to come home?” His voice drips with mock sympathy and cruel amusement. “Such a shame he isn’t here to protect you. Now I get to have my way with you.”

His hand slides around to your front, boldly cupping one of your heavy breasts. He squeezes roughly, thumbing your stiff nipple through the thin fabric of your pajamas. “These tits though... fuck. All laid out on this counter for me—such a good girl.”

You moan out as he begins touching your sensitive nipples, squirming underneath him as you attempt to pull away, stopped by the counter. His hand slips from covering your mouth to fondle both of your large breasts, and you can’t help but whine. “Please- No! I- I have a husband!” You plead.

It’s been so long since you’ve been touched, husband so busy with work, that your body craves it. Your pussy is becoming wet at another man’s touch, slicking up your panties. Another sob escapes you, and you begin begging more desperately. “Please.. Please..!”

He laughs cruelly at your pleas, continuing to grope and knead your soft flesh. “A husband, huh? Well, where is he then? Leaving such a delectable woman all alone?”

His hands slide under your shirt, pushing the flimsy material up to expose your bare breasts. He pinches and tugs at your sensitive nipples, rolling them between his fingers. “Fuck, look at these perfect tits... Barely fit in my hand.”

Suddenly, he spins you around to face him, slamming you back against the counter. One hand wraps around your throat while the other pushes your pajama shorts aside. “You’re dripping.” He groans out as he runs a finger along your clothed slit, voice muffled behind the mask.

He grinds his hard bulge against your clothed, practically soaked pussy. You gasp and choke as his gloved hand wraps around your throat, gripping his wrist as you try desperately to pull him off. You moan brokenly as his cock rubs against your panties, legs shaking.

The counter is cold underneath you. You stare into the soulless eyes of his mask, vision blurring. Tears fall down your cheeks. “Nnn—Please—“ You struggle to speak as your head becomes light, eyes rolling back as it becomes harder to breathe.

He tightens his grip on your throat, cutting off your air supply even more as he grinds harder against your wet panties. “That's it, bitch. Struggle for me. It only makes this game more fun.”

With his free hand, he pulls down your shorts, and rips your soaked underwear away, exposing your glistening folds to the cool air of the kitchen. Two thick fingers plunge knuckle-deep into your tight pussy without warning, pumping in and out roughly.

“Fuck, you're so wet already. Such a dirty whore, getting fingered by a stranger in your own kitchen. I bet your limp-dick husband could never make you this wet.”

He curls his fingers inside you, rubbing your g-spot as his thumb finds your clit, wasting no time. Back arching as his fingers hit deep inside your crevices, you shakily moan and writhe against the countertop. Guilt fills your stomach at the mention of your husband, but it mixes with pleasure as your pussy is violated by the stranger.

“Aaah!~” You sob out as he rubs your clit faster—harder. It feels so good, your sensitive body already wants to cum. So quickly, too, perhaps you really are touch starved. You refuse to let yourself cum, biting your lip. “You’re ss- sick..!” You whimper.

He chuckles darkly at your weak protests, doubling his efforts to bring you closer to the edge. “Sick? Maybe. But you love it, don't you? Your greedy little pussy is squeezing my fingers so tightly. Like you’re made for them.”

He adds a third finger, stretching you wider as he continues his relentless assault. His thumb works hard against your clit, rubbing fast circles. “Go ahead and cum for me, you filthy slut. Let me feel this married pussy spasm on my fingers like the desperate whore you are. I know you want to.”

Finally, his grip on your throat loosens slightly, allowing you to take shallow breaths as he finger-fucks you harder, the obscene sound of wet flesh filling the kitchen. “Cum for me.”

You try so hard to defy him, panting as it becomes harder to resist. It happens so quick, you can’t hold it back any longer, and you cum around his fingers. You squirt all over them with breathless moans, pussy clenching around his fingers as you grip his shoulders for stability.

“Aaah~! Fuck!” You cry out, head leaning against his chest as your legs shake around his hand. The moment of pleasure is quick lived as the overwhelming guilt for what you’ve just done sinks in.

He holds you steady as you come undone, fingers still buried deep inside your spasming hole, prolonging your intense orgasm. “That's it, milk my fingers like the desperate slut you are.“

Tears coat the killer’s shirt as you cry from pleasure and guilt into his chest, white knuckle dripping the fabric as you quiver. “I’m sorry, my love..” You hiccup. “I’m so sorrry..”

One hand comes up to grip your chin, forcing you to meet his soulless gaze despite the tears blurring your vision. “How cute, you’re crying! Shouldn’t you be grateful? I just gave what your pathetic excuse for a husband couldn't give you.”

As your climax subsides and the guilt washes over you, he slowly withdraws his soaked digits from your sensitive hole. Bringing them to his mask, he licks them clean, marveling in the way you shake. “Delicious.”

Your eyes widen as you watch him lick his fingers, hotness boiling in your stomach as your pussy grows hotter. You whimper submissively at the sight, feeling faint after your intense orgasm.

“Nn- No..” You whisper out, gasping as your legs are roughly pulled closer to him, and your body falls back against the counter. “W- What are you doing!?”

He smirks behind his mask as he sees the fear and reluctant arousal in your eyes. In one swift motion, he yanks your hips forward, pulling you flush against his muscular body. The prominent bulge in his pants grinds against your sensitive, freshly fucked pussy.

“What does it look like I'm doing, slut? Gonna fuck you so hard and deep, you'll forget all about your worthless husband.”

His hands make quick work of his belt and zipper, freeing his massive, throbbing cock. He presses the tip against your gaping entrance, slick from the finger fucking. “Beg for it. Beg me to split your married pussy open on my cock”

You moan loudly, desperately. Your pussy aches as his tip presses against the needy hole, and your mind is still blank from the previous orgasm. You find yourself subconsciously grinding against his cock, despite the guilt, and bite your lip.

“Aa- Aaah..~” You feel your dignity slowly breaking, looking at where his cock and your needy pussy meet. It’s all too much—too good. “…Please…” You beg quietly, hypnotized by the pleasure.

He grins wickedly at your desperate plea, knowing he has you right where he wants you - broken, needy, and ready to be used. “Good girl. Such an obedient little whore.”

Without any hesitation, he grips your hips bruisingly tight and slams forward, burying every thick inch of his huge cock deep into your tight, wet heat in one brutal thrust. “Fuuuuck, yes—nnnmmph! Take it all, you married slut..” His voice is deep as he groans, cock filling you.

He sets a punishing pace immediately, pounding into you with animalistic ferocity. The obscene slap of skin on skin echoes through the kitchen as he rails your pussy mercilessly. “Feels so good—So tight, clenching around my cock. So messy for me, Darling.”

You scream out in pleasure as his cock ravages you. Your pussy is so tight around his cock, clenching it for dear life as it breaks you open. It’s so much bigger than what you’re used to, your husband could never compare.

“Oh! Oh, yes! Please! Don’t stop!” You cry out, gripping the counter as your body slides against it. Tits bouncing feverishly as you throw your head back, wailing out in pleasure. “Ssss- So good!”

He hilts himself fully inside your spasming hole, grinding against your deepest depths as he revels in the sounds you make for him. “That's right, scream for me, whore.. Let the whole neighborhood hear what a depraved slut you are, getting fucked by a stranger’s cock.”

One hand snakes up to wrap around your slender throat once more, applying just enough pressure to make you lightheaded as he continues his relentless assault on your pussy. “When’s the last time you were fucked right, baby?”

Leaning down, he bites and sucks at the sensitive skin of your neck, determined to leave marks that will remind you of this encounter for weeks. His other hand digs bruises into your hip as he holds you up, cold gloves rubbing against the sensitive skin of your plump ass.

You find yourself orgasming again, squirting around his large cock this time as he roughly takes care of you. Your mind is so blurry with pleasure at the way his cock is making you feel, you can hardly find words. Face red, hair sticking to your sweaty face as you babble incoherently. He doesn’t stop fucking you even as you orgasm.

Time passes, and you’re exhausted. “I- I’m close.. Sss- So, so close, please..!” Your tongue rolls out as his cock doesn’t stop pounding your sensitive pussy, two orgasms in now and him not anywhere close to ending this. Legs wrap around him, trying to force him to go deeper as you press your pussy against him, loving the way his balls slap against your ass as he goes impossibly deep.

He snarls in primal lust as he feels your walls clamp down on him, your fluids spilling out all over his cock. “Good girl, baby, coat my cock white. Love seeing you feel good.”

Your desperate pleas spur him on and he doubles his efforts, hips slamming against yours with enough force to rattle the countertop. The lewd sounds of heavy sex fill the air. Releasing your throat, he tangles a hand in your sweat-soaked hair, yanking your head back to expose more of your neck. He grazes the delicate skin with his teeth, before finally sinking in deep enough to draw blood.

Your eyes roll back as the sensations become overwhelming. Your body goes limp in his arms as you scream and cry out, loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. Your mind is so foggy you can’t even bring yourself to think, all you know is how his cock feels breaking you open.

“Aaaah…~ Haaah~!” Your moans are weak, whorish as you’re fucked into oblivion. You have no clue when this will end, or how long it’s been going on. Two more orgasms later, and he’s still fucking you deep with his cock. “T- Too much.. C- Can’t!”

He continues to pound into your abused hole with intense focus. He cooes, “Aww, too much? But you’re taking it so well, baby. You can last a little while longer, can’t you?”

His thrusts become erratic, balls swelling as his own release approaches. He leans in close, hot breath ghosting over your ear as he groans, “I'm going to flood this ungrateful pussy with so much cum. Pump you full until it's dripping down your thighs. You'd like that, wouldn't you, whore?”

You nod quickly, eyes screwing shut. You clench your pussy around his cock, begging with your body how badly you want his cum. “Please fill me! I’ll do anything!” You moan out, pussy beginning to ache from the intense thrusts now. You want this to end, it’s all too much.

“I need your cum, please! Fill me!” You moan lewdly, as if impersonating a porn star. Drool coats your chin and slickness is now puddling on the floor of the kitchen. “Mess up my pussy, please!”

With a guttural groan, he hilts himself fully inside you one last time, cock pulsing and throbbing as he reaches his peak. His palm presses against your belly as his balls slap against your ass a final time. “Fuuuuck, fuck, good girl. Take it.. Take my cum..”

His cock erupts, painting your insides white with spurt after spurt of his thick cum. It seems endless, pumping into you until your belly begins to swell slightly from the sheer volume. You moan weakly as your used pussy takes it all.

He grinds against you throughout his orgasm, thick cock hitting your deepest parts, ensuring every drop stays in you. As the final twitches fade away, he pulls out with a wet squelch, admiring the creampie oozing from your gaping, well-used hole.

“So good, Darling. I can’t wait to see your husband’s reaction when he comes home to see you. Like a meal, all spread out on the counter.” And, as if on cue, the keys to the front door can be heard jingling.

“Promise you’ll think about me the next time he fucks you?” Ghostface gives a low chuckle before suddenly, he’s gone, and you’re left a cum-filled, naked mess on the counter for your husband to come home to.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

i’m literally obsessed with your cowboy jason what’s he going to do about black mask?

"Didn't mean to horn in on your territory-"

"I'm just passin' through," Jason said shrugging, keeping his stance relaxed. He can feel you watching. Weighing options. And he just hoped if it came down to a fight in your yard you had sense enough to stay out of the way. But when he was you tighten your grip, he didn't think so. Damn. "The lady was kind enough to let me sleep in the loft for some handy work while I wait on my next job."

"What business you in?" he asked, sizing Jason up.

"Railroad." It was plausible enough. New lines were going in all over the place. And he was big enough- and rough enough no one tended to question it. He looked like he could swing hard with hammers or fists. And the hard muscle he'd seen you gawk at when he hauled water looked like it could pull a cart without a horse.

"Well," Black Mask said, smiling, "You ever want work that pays better, come find me. I could use a man like you."

"I might just," Jason said. "Hows about we leave the lady to her work and go grab a drink- Sherri-Anne should be opening up about now."

"Sounds like a plan. It's hotter than the devil's asshole out here."

And it was only by sheer force of will that Jason didn't cringe hearing a man say something like that in front of a lady- even if he knew you could swear a blue streak all on your own. And even if he thought it was fitting- especially when you whacked your thumb with a hammer or burnt the back of your arm when one of the girls startled you screaming bloody murder.

"It should only be an hour or so," you add helpfully, wiping your forehead with your sleeve to keep sweat from running into your eyes.

"Long enough for a beer," Jason nodded. Perfect. Long enough to plan. And if you were smart, long enough for you to send the girls to town to stay with the school mistress or the preacher and his wife.

"Tell Miss Sherri I sent you," you tell them. "She'll fix you up right."

"Yes ma'am," Black mask said, turning to appraise you again. And it was a look that made Jason have to take a deep breath. You were a good girl. Not a cow at the fair- next thing you know he'd be prying your mouth open to get a look at your teeth.

[crazyunsexycool]

Sugar is out on mission, so Bucky picks Henry and Lottie from school!

Lottie is hopping and giggling and hands inter twined with Tommy.

Lottie - Daddy look what I made *shows her drawing of her family*

Tommy - Mr.Bucky look what I made *that's Lottie and me getting married*

What would Bucky's reaction be🤣🤣🤣🤣

Hahahaha let this man’s heart have some rest!!!

School pick up

Warning: Tommy existing, Bucky’s blood pressure going up…

Most of the time you were the one to pick up the kids from school. Today was an exception. You were needed on a mission and it became Bucky’s responsibility to pick the kids up. He didn’t always have the chance to do this so he was more than happy to strap Peanut in their car seat to pick up the older two Barnes kids.

Henry was the first to be let out of school. Now it was just a matter of Bucky picking up his Doll. There was a line of other parents at the elementary school waiting for their kids as well. Bucky stood beside the car and scanned the door of the school once kids started pouring out.

“Daddy!” Bucky heard Lottie’s unmistakable voice ringing over all the other noise. “Hi daddy.”

“Hi doll.” He waved and smiled to her as she pushed her way through the crowd.

The smile quickly dropped from his face when he saw Lottie holding hands with Tommy. She was pulling him along with her. They skipped along happily until they stopped right in front of him.

“Hi daddy. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Doll. That’s why I came to pick you up.” Bucky picked Lottie up and accepted a kiss on the cheek from her.

“Hi Mr. Bucky.”

“Thomas.” Bucky said curtly.

“Daddy can I show you my drawing?”

“Of course.”

Lottie smiles big while Henry moves to hang out of the open car window. Tommy waves at him and he waves back but mostly Henry’s expression mirrors his father’s.

“Wook it. It’s us.” Lottie holds up her artwork . It’s a picture of the family and alpine. You’re all at the beach smiling and having fun.

“Wow this is amazing. This is definitely going on the fridge.”

Lottie beamed at her father.

“I made a drawing too Mr. Bucky. Wanna see it?” Tommy says while already digging through his backpack that was too big for him. “Look.”

Bucky stared down at the piece of paper and his blood boils. He can literally feel his blood pressure rising. There in the drawing is Tommy in a suit and bow tie holding hands with Lottie. He drew her hair up in a bun and a white dress. She’s holding flowers in one hand while the other is joined with his. If that wasn’t enough there were hearts all around them and the words Lottie and Tommy forever on the top.

“Miss Daisy helped me write our names. Do you think my mom will put it up on our fridge?”

“Yeah it’s so nice.” Lottie replies.

“We have to go Doll. Say goodbye to Thomas.”

“Bye Tommy.”

“Bye Lottie.” They hug and Bucky has to hold himself back.

“Alright let’s go Doll.” He opens the door for her and helps with her seat belt. She’s immediately distracted by Peanut.

They drive silently all the way home. By the time they’re hopping out of the car you walk out of the front door. You can see Bucky’s seething and want to laugh already. Before you can ask you welcome the kids with hugs and kisses.

“What happened?” You say as the kids walk inside.

“He drew a picture of them.”

“Aw that’s so sweet. He always draws something very nice, Tommy is quite the little artist.”

“He drew them on their wedding day and on top of the page it said Lottie and Tommy forever. Their teacher helped him write it. I’m going to call the school to complain.”

“Complain about what? The teacher doing her job?” You say with a laugh while you follow him in.

“For allowing this kid to lie to my girl.”

“How is he lying?” You ask.

“He’s not gonna live long enough for forever.” Bucky says pissed off.

“Well they don’t know that.”

“I’m not gonna let him live long enough.”

Now you’re standing there laughing at him. You lean up and kiss his cheek.

“You’re ridiculous. Stop threatening the life of a kindergartener and start accepting the fact that one day Charlotte will fall in love.”

“No she won’t. I’ll stop it before it happens.” Bucky sports his usual pout.

You roll your eyes and start walking away. “What you should be doing is thinking about what song you want to dance to at her wedding when she becomes Mrs. Tommy Anderson.”

“Not funny.” He yells as you start laughing.

[gvfmarge]

The What Ifs and Buts.

I’ve never been one to choose myself over a significant other. I’ve always seemed to want to do anything and everything they’ve wanted; I dropped out of college to move home with my ex-boyfriend ffs 🙄 it didn’t work out and I moved back to college a semester later lmao. BUT I grew from it. So, in my dreamland tonight I thought of this little Jakey blurb. Because it’s totally me and I have attachment issues. This is toxic, it has to be right? So not healthy, but it’s just a story! Oh, also, I haven’t written in a very long time, so be gentle. Y/N is wild: I am she, she is me. Here is a cheesy, dumpster fire of a story!

TW: if you squint maybe an unhealthy attachment? Anxiousness, alludes to sex.

You met Jake 8 months ago, in a random little coffee shop on the edge of town. You remember feeling so melancholy, following through with your day to day life. It was ordinary, at least it felt that way at the time. Your life was exactly how you thought it should be: you got your big girl corporate job, your big girl apartment, hell you even got a cat. You were choosing all the right paths that had been drilled into your head since middle school. Get the job, get the money, get the house, married? kids? Was that next on the list? It felt like it was supposed to be the next check mark on your to-do list, but it felt hopeless. This was what life was all about, right? Why didn’t it feel like this was supposed to be how your life would go, you ticked all the right boxes but it still just didn’t feel like enough. You were proud of how far you had come. You were the first in your family to graduate from college, to move away from your tiny town and into the big city. You had made it in the eyes of everyone back home, but you just felt like it was a never ending game of “why am I so miserable?”

You had walked into the coffee shop just after sunrise, the exact same way you had everyday for the last 6 months you’ve lived in Nashville. You ordered your coffee and bagel, the exact order you did everyday. The exact pleasing smile, exact tip for the barista, same table as usual unless someone else beat you there. You sat as you scrolled through your work emails, preparing for your day ahead. The same day you’ve had for 6 months. Sighing, you collected your bags and made your way to the trash bin by the door.

When you turned to push open the door, you were met with two hands outstretched on your shoulders. “Oh my god I’m so sorry, I wasn’t even paying attention!” He had caught you just in time before you ran straight into his chest and presumably spilled coffee over both of you.

“No need to apologize, I’m just glad I won’t be wearing coffee this morning.” Your eyes followed along the skin of his exposed chest, focusing along the silver chains that sat against his smooth tan skin, up to the ends of his long wavy hair that laid against his broad shoulders and finally into his deep brown sparkling eyes. You were staring. You were totally staring but you couldn’t look away. Your mouth was instantly dry and any of the words that you could possibly even think to say were stuck in your throat. His eyes flicked towards his hands that were still clutching your biceps and he quickly pulled away. “So sorry about that” he quickly blurted out and shoved a hand through his hair. Time finally caught up with you, feeling like all the blood rushed back to your head at once and snapped you out of your trance.

Oh God, say something y/n, anything! You coughed, basically choked, and huffed out a laugh. You began giggling which quickly turned into a full laugh. You covered your face in your hands and finally looked back at the man who you basically just convinced you were clinically insane. Thankfully, he was laughing along with you, beaming his beautiful smile at you.

And that was that. You met for drinks the next day, had a drawer in his bathroom and clothes in his closet two weeks later, and he even bought cat food and toys the third week. It was perfectly perfect. The check box you had left empty had been marked off and your mundane days were now filled with happiness with Jake alongside you.

But, you knew the day was coming. There’s always a but, in everything that is perfect, there will always be a but. That’s just how your life was. You felt you couldn’t have one great thing without it crashing and burning sooner or later.

Jake was intertwined with you in bed, just after getting back to his house from a night out with his brothers. (Who had quickly became your brothers, just like everything in this situation had come together quickly) Your foreheads were pressed together, small pecks inbetween whispers, giggles in the dark. His fingers tracing lines up and down your bare arms. “You’ll be okay, won’t you love?” He whispered against your lips. You gave a short nod which turned into a fast shake of your head. “No, I don’t think I will be.” You were being honest. You had quickly learned that Jake’s schedule was sporadic and hectic, his life was full of chaos which was drastically different than your days full of constants and predictability. You had made it through the months just fine with the tour, a few days of him being gone here and there, it was hard but it worked. You made up for it in the time that he was home. But, he would be gone for 3 months this time. This was uncharted territory for your new relationship, that had given you a new outlook on your life. It had made the mundane more bearable and felt like your purpose in life actually made sense.

“I dont think I can do it, Jake” the tremble in your voice more noticeable than you had hoped. His thumb grazed against your cheek as he held your head in his hands. You could feel the sadness in the dark, making the air heavy and thick. “Then come with me.” It felt like you had imagined his words, you never thought he would actually ask that much of you. “What?” It came out harsher than you intended and your body tensed against chest. “I- I just thought maybe we could travel together.” He rolled onto his back and you could see his eyes staring into the ceiling above. “I wouldn’t have to worry about where you were or what you were doing and you wouldn’t have to worry about what I was doing, I don’t even know if we would be able to talk everyday if you stayed home. I mean.. it will still be hectic and busy but at least we could be together for most of it.” He swiveled his head to search for just an ounce of how you were feeling.

“What about my job, Jake?” The checklist was scrolling through your mind, reminding you of everything you thought you had accomplished and made you feel successful. “What about my life here?” You wanted to go, of course you did. How could you pass up months of traveling with the man you knew deep down was yours forever. But if he is your forever, did these next three months really matter in the grand scheme of things? You could make it and be better than ever when he got back.

“You are my life, y/n.” He whispered, the fear in his voice evident. “I love you and I never want to be away from you, I want to be with you, always.” The pure shock of his words had you gasping for air. It felt like all the air in the room had dissipated and you thought for a moment you had actually died and left your body lying right there in his bed. “You love me?” It wasn’t really a question, you had known it was him from the time you locked eyes all those months ago. “No, no wait.” You rushed out as you sat up on your knees and stared down at him, your panic had him scrambling to sit up against the headboard. Your body was working on autopilot as you crashed your lips to his in a frenzy. His hands lifted to your cheeks and he slowly pulled your face from his. “Y/n are you okay?” Through heavy breaths and blown out eyes you realized just how crazy you were acting. Always the one for dramatics, you groaned and cradled your face in your hands. “No.. yes. Yes. I’m okay. I just love you is all.” The whiplash you were giving Jake left him with wide eyes and a gaping mouth as he took in your theatrics. “I love you, Jake.” Is all you managed to blurt out before his lips were on yours again.

The kiss felt ravenous, like your lips on each others was the only way for you to survive. You needed him just as much as he needed you. Your chaotic mind and anxious personality evened out with his calm and collected brain, you completed each other in ways that you had never believed was possible. You had always been too much, too needy, too loud. Your mind was too cluttered for other people. But Jake loved that you overthought everything, that you worried too much about things he couldn’t care less about. Your faults were his favorite things about you, it’s what made you you and helped balance out his own personality and feelings. You were the chaos to his calm.

His hands roamed across your thighs and up your lower back until he was running his hands through your hair. He gently tugged you down onto his chest until you were straddling his lap. “Then go with me.” He whispered, finally breaking away from your kiss to connect his forehead to yours.

You paused for longer than he expected, staring into his soul through his hazelnut eyes. Once again, your mental checklist of what was “right” flashing through your mind. You swallowed roughly, trying to find the right words to say. The big red neon flashing light lighting up in your head saying JUST DO IT and out shined your stupid checklist. “Okay.” You smiled against his lips.

“Yeah?!” Jake grabbed your face with both hands, staring into your eyes searching for any type of resistance. His strength hastily flipped you off of his lap and onto your back, pushing his body between your hips. His lips devoured yours as he rutted his hips into yours. Moving his kiss across your cheek and down to your sensitive spot just under your ear. Your hands splayed across his back just as you thought through your decision. He would be with you every night, you would get to see the boys in their element, the days of traveling and eating, months full of joy and laughter.

“Wait!” You blurted out, causing Jake to almost knock you out with the force of his head shooting up to look at you, your unexpected word giving him a look of terror. “What about the cat?” You giggled when you realized you had almost caused him to have a stroke. His shoulders relaxed and his head dipped to meet with your collar bone.

“Rose loves cats.” Is all he said before he made sure the only thoughts you had were of him and the memories you would make together.

[sweetcaress-oceanblue]

☆Number - Jack Mercer x Reader

☆ idc Jack Mercer doesn’t have enough fanfics so I’m here to serve justice.

☆Would recommend listening to ‘You Can Be The Boss’ by Lana Del Rey

Content: Mentions of drugs alcohol, suggestive language, mentions of gang violence

~و✧…彡☆ - btw pretend Jack survived x

彡☆ 2005      ��   19:36PM

‘This job is honestly ass’  I said to my most common customer, and closest friend, Sofi. It was true, I hated my job, it was a fucking shithole, I mean it was a dingy bar in the rough parts of Detroit, a little girl’s dream clearly.

‘Aye (name) don’t be so silly, it pays the bills, and plus, you get a lot of guys working here.’ She wasn’t wrong, I mean it did pay the bills after all but the amount of guys that I didn’t want? Uncountable.

‘I know Sof’, but they’re all ugly most of the time, plus, when they’re that pissed out of their minds, ‘no’ doesn’t compute easy, they got determination I’ll say that. Gets me a few tips I suppose.’ I laughed, cleaning the nearby table where Sofi sat. ‘Speaking of guys, can’t believe you’re seeing that Angel Mercer again!’ I asked, sitting next to her and nudging her shoulder.

‘I don’t like the way you said ‘Again’ but at least I have a man. Though, how old are you now?’ She asked, smiling at the ground when she answered about Angel, absolutely smitten, is the only words I could describe her.

‘Twentyyy... one?’ I questioned myself as I pulled out my ID, just double checking I was actually 21. 

‘You really think that checking your ID is going to help? How many fake IDs did you have when you were 17 to get cigarettes?’ Me and Sofi go back to when I was 17 and freshly moved to America, she lived in the apartment next to me and we’d been best friends since she welcomed me into the new apartment.

‘Shut up girl, this is a real one, and I am right I’m 21.’ I laughed, smacking my ID on the table.

‘Okay okay, anywho, Angel has a brother, Jack who’s the same age as you, and he got shot recently, he’s getting out of hospital today and a little birdie told me him and his brothers are coming here in an hour or so to celebrate.’ She suggested, walking over to the bar.

‘Oh yeah? Well from what you’ve told me the birdie is actually quite big.’ I smirk as I pour myself a pint from the tap, Sofi hit me on my arm, telling me to shut up in Spanish. I love Sofi but she loves to overshare about her sex life, but it’s fun to mess with her about it. 

…彡☆      19:54PM

A few moments passed, as me and Sofi just talked about random things, about how crazy it was that Victor Sweet had finally been killed, what Sofi wanted to do career wise etc. When all of a sudden, a bunch of loud men burst through the door, as I recognise a very familiar face.

‘Jerry!’

‘(Name)! What’s goin’ on baby?’ He said as he approached the bar, politely shaking my hand, Jerry was like a big brother to me, always nice and fair.

‘Nothin’ much, your wife know you here? I can call her right now if she don’t.’

‘Nah she knows, I’m truthful to my lady, and seeing as I’m so truthful, can we get a few rounds free?’

I laughed and nodded saying as long as I got tipped I’d give them whatever.

‘Bullshit Jerry, we all keep secrets here.’ A bloke in leather, with a goatee sort of thing going on says, laughing and hitting his back.

‘Man shut the fuck up before I woop yo’ white ass. (Name), these are my brothers Bobby, Jack and Angel, I guess you’re already acquainted with Angel here.’

‘Yeah man, it’s hard not to know who Angel is when all I hear in my apartment is those two getting it on.’ I say, lighting a cigarette whilst directioning my hand to Sofi and Angel.

Then I looked at Jack, and all I thought was ‘Damn he’s fine’.

‘So you lovely ladies want tables or are you gonna keep me company and sit at the bar?’

‘I think the guys are alright with sitting at the bar, right guys?’ Jerry said, asking his brothers, they all nodded and agreed as they took seats at the bar.

‘Can I get a beer?’ The one who I assumed was Bobby, asked.

‘Can you be specific, Guiness? Heineken? A pint? Half-pint? And I don’t know maybe a please?’ I chuckled, directioning to the amount of beers there were to choose from

‘She had you on that one Bobby, she’s very passionate about her alcohol.’ Angel said. 

‘And why’s that, you an alcoholic or somethin?’

‘No, I don’t know if you can tell from the accent but it’s just from being English really.’ I could see Jack’s eyebrows raise slightly, he was really cute.

‘Ah, I don’t know man just give me a bottle of Guiness.’

‘Please?’

‘Please.’

…彡☆           20:20PM

About half an hour passed before I finally talked to Jack, I slid down the bar, making my way to where he sat, leaving the rest of the brothers and Sofi to do whatever.

‘You’re Jack I take it?’

‘Yeah and you’re.. (name)?’

‘Indeed it is, what drink you want Jackie?’

‘I don’t mind really, can I get a cigarette? The hospital wouldn’t let me bring ‘em in.’ He laughed, god damn his laugh. I’ve known this boy for 45 minutes and I’m whipped

‘Yeah sure and I’m sorry to hear that you got shot by the way, you ‘re lucky you survived love.’ I could see him the try to hide the fact me calling him love got a reaction out of him, it’s not particularly uncommon for me to call customers love, but it’s usually older customers, just out of respect, though for him? I just said it to get a reaction.

‘Thanks, how long you been working at the bar?’

‘Not long really, few months? I’ve only been in America for a couple of years, I think four years.’ Passing him a cigarette and a lighter whilst taking a puff of my own.

‘Ah cool, how come you moved?’

‘I don’t know really, I suppose to just be with my mum, seeing as she wanted to just get away.’

‘Your parents split?’

‘Yeah but it was probably the best choice they collectively made.’ I laughed, pouring him a drink.

‘Fair enough, you do anything else other than be the only good-looking bar tender in Detroit?’ Um sir? 

‘Don’t flatter me Jackie, but yeah actually, I play the bass here and there.’

…彡☆ Jack POV  …彡☆

‘Don’t flatter me Jackie...’ Man, I haven’t even known her that long and I can’t help but want to take her out. 

‘Ah bass? That’s cool man, I play the guitar, before I moved back to Detroit I was actually in a band, believe it or not.’ Flicking my cigarette ash in the nearby ashtray, when I had an idea. I asked her for a pen and she handed me the one in her shirt pocket.

‘I certainly believe it, but anywho I can’t concentrate on your pretty face all night, I’ll serve some other customers and I’ll be back soon.’ She said winking at me, I felt my face go so warm, Sofi definitely knew I was going red, and to my misfortune, so did Bobby.

‘Woah Jackie, did the bullet knock the fairy out of you or what?!’

‘Shut up man, you probably haven’t been flirted with in the last 10 years.’

‘Sure fairy whatever you say.’

…彡☆    22:17PM     your pov

‘Okay boys we’re gonna leave now, because for some reason I got designated driver duty so come on! You too Sofi vámanos!’ Jerry yelled, dragging Sofi and Angel by the collars of their shirts, I laughed to myself as all of the brothers continued to leave in a drunken mess, the night was full of brotherly love, teasing and intense flirting between me and Jack, as he had more drinks he got more bold with how he spoke.

I was absolutely whipped, and as Jack left, he gave me a cigarette and said, 

‘Don’t light it right away.’ with a drunken but genuine smile, I responded, ‘Don’t worry Jackie I won’t, see you soon.’ and I pecked him on the cheek as I left for the room where I kept my coat to close up my shift, taking the cigarette with me.

Later in the night I was certain there was something I had forgotten to do, and then it hit me, I probably was meant to look at the cigarette or something, and then I thought, ‘Where’s the cigarette?’, and I trudged to my sofa and grabbed my coat, luckily the cig was still in my pocket.

I twizzled it in my fingers, when I saw numbers written on one side, and a note saying, ‘Call me - Jackie’ with a heart next to it on the other, that smooth motherfucker. I unravelled the cigarette, putting the nicotine in a spare pouch and attached the note to my fridge with a magnet with the intentions to call him in the morning.

…彡☆     The End!

Please let me know if you liked this, if so I might write a part 2 to it or just continue to write Jack mercer fics seeing as there just aren’t enough! Love ya x

[the-rat-eatery]

It’s very hard to describe what it is to be queer to me. I see men and women not much older than me and I want to be them. They make me uncomfortable, they make the world uncomfortable— I love them with everything in me. I see girls with unshaved pits and unibrows and stubble peaking through thick makeup, boys with shiny cheekbones and tooth gaps and scars like crescent moons on their chests— I want to be boyish in the way girls are boyish and feminine in the way boys are feminine. I want big, messy hair like that guy’s beard. I want a shaved head full of bald spots in the shapes of lightning strikes and stars. I want a tattoo of violets on my ribs. I love cargo pants, carabiners.

I love loving women. It’s one of the most comfortable things in my life. I love being queer. I love the optionality. I like being a girl in the way that girls like, not in the way that man ogle at— I want to make the men uncomfortable with my exaggerated hair and pants and voice. I want people to look at me and shy away. I want women that look at other women to look at me and yell— she’s one of us!— from the other side of the street.

And it’s not just liking the way girls move or the way they talk or the way their thoughts come together— it’s being queer, it’s being gay, it’s being an awful deviant. It’s shaved eyebrows and hair that looks awful out of context. It’s noses that are too big and lips that are too big and fingers that are too long. It’s the way that man’s shirt falls over his ribs. It’s the way that girl’s skirt gets muddy and tangled with her heavy boots. It’s overexposed photos. It’s women with bleeding knuckles, scraped knees. It’s raspy voices. It is stretched ears hanging loose. It’s girls that are boys and boys that are girls— girls that are girls uncomfortably and boys that are boys with disquiet.

And it is also me. Me— in my appeasing floral dress and calm hair. I don’t shave for weeks out of some sort of childish rebellion but then am not confident enough to lift my arms to reach a high shelf for fear that someone will see— eventually, I let my leg hair grow out and banish the pit hair, I figure: what’s the point if I don’t like it? I exercise. I build up my biceps. When I lift my arms to do my hair up, the muscles bulge and ripple— this feels good. But my mother scolds me for lifting too much, tells me that this is a man’s job— what am I to do with that? My nail polish is chipped and I wear boots everywhere and I stare at pretty girls when they aren’t looking. I write poetry for my best friend, poetry I will make sure she never reads. I am… adjacent to queerness. No boys ask me out despite the fact that I still want them too, I suspect they hear my baying laugh and see the long hair on my ankles and are made uncomfortable (but is that not what I wanted?— I ask myself— did I not want to displace those who have always been steady, make steady those who trip often?). But no girls ask me out either, and I am afraid of them. There are gay girls in my sphere, but they don’t pick up on the signals I am desperately trying to send out— me on my little rock stuck in open space, casting out radio signals like fishing line in the hopes that, someday, it will catch. But my boots do nothing but squeak on the tile and my hair does nothing but fall limp in the heat. I am too uncomfortable and yet too commonplace. I am stuck on the path between person and better person— the front wheel of my bicycle has gotten lodged in the mud and I keep pulling and pulling and, eventually, it will fly out and all the momentum of my pulling will launch me over the finish line.

I want to wear a suit that looks good on me. I want a carabiner, a whole collection of heavy boots and jackets. I want to be a gender-bending, fluid masterpiece. Someone that is neither man nor woman but king and queen and warlock all. I am stifled here, muted. My colors dimmed and dulled— sullied under the too bright rays of scrutiny that I consist under. The problem is— I like my floral dresses, my thick hair that gets stiff in the sea breeze. But I also like the way I look in blazers and my one pair of expensive, woolen pants. I like the way it feels to stomp my boots at a concert. I feel masculine and I am powerful in that masculinity. I also feel powerful when the sun hits my hips as I lounge next to the Atlantic— the way strangers stare at my flushed face, my full thighs and strong arms, feels powerful. Like I have and hold power in my cupped hands and like I have drunk from them. I don’t fall into the lines of butch and femme, I only stand on them, admiring the people on either side.

There is strength in knowing who you are, there is stability, there is community. There is that look that passes between people when they spot another in the crowd— a nod of respect, of compassion, of recognition. Hello there— person that is not like those around you— it says— do not fret, you are like me. I want that.

[blowflyfag]

WRESTLING ALL STARS: Heroes and Villains : February 1993 

Ready for something really scary, boys and girls? CACTUS JACK’S A MANAGER! 

By GEORGE NAPOLITANO

The wild, weird and wacky Cactus Jack has taken up a new career. He’s now a manager in the WCW. Cactus is managing the affairs of the unpredictable Barbarian and the one-time “Mr. USA” Tony Atlas. It wasn’t that many years ago that people said Cactus Jack was unmanageable! How can a man known for his unpredictable and bizarre behavior come to manage two veterans like the Barbarian and Tony Atlas?

[Cactus says, “People say I’m nuts–but I know exactly what I’m gonna do every time I enter the wrestling arena!”]

It defies logic but it’s true. Several months ago after suffering a severe groin pull, Cactus Jack approached the Barbarian about helping his career. The Barbarian surprisingly agreed and the two have been together ever since.  Cactus confided in the Barbarian that he knew how to make him a champion. Cactus Jack has been putting the Barbarian through a very rigorous training regime. The training may be unorthodox by normal standards but why would anyone think that Cactus Jack would stoop to orthodox tactics for his stable of contenders?

“No one gives me any credit at all,” Cactus moaned after putting his proteges through another strenuous routine. “I know exactly what I am going to do every time I climb through the ropes. My job is to win in any way I can and I will use anything I can to get the job done. If it means using a chair, the ring posts, the guard rails or the stairs to beat my opponent, I will use it. People say I’m unorthodox. People say I’m nuts. Some say I’m crazy–but tell me what’s wrong with using stairs if they’re there? It doesn’t matter how you win just as long as you win and the Barbarian understands this now. He’s a man after my own heart. He’s tough, strong, powerful and a little crazy too. That’s what makes him so good. Besides the Barbarian, I now have Tony Atlas in my stable too, and my new killer is the same way. He used to be soft but my good friend Tony Rumble taught him a better way. Now he’s ready to be champion in the WCW. With the Barbarian and Atlas I’ve got the next champions in my corner.”

[While wrestling for UWS a few years back, Cactus was managed by wrestling legend Maniac John Tolos.

While the Barbarian looks on, Cactus explains to WCW announcer Jim Ross just how he and the big guy are going to conquer the world!]

It’s still hard to fathom how Cactus Jack–never a champ himself–can instill enough knowledge into his men to make them champions. Although this may seem impossible in theory, there are many other managers who fall into this category. The renowned Captain Lou Albano never won a title; neither did Bobby “The Brain” Heenan. Paul E. Dangerously, Jim Cornette and Jimmy Hart never even donned a pair of tights! Using this as a barometer, Cactus Jack then certainly has the credentials to be a manager! If Cactus is even half as successful as these other great managers, the Barbarian and Tony Atlas could be championship bound.

[The maniac’s table of wrestlers is already impressive. Cactus has taken The Barbarian and Tony Atlas beneath his dement wing!

A horribly bloodied Cactus Jack screams at the crowd following a match in the Orient.]

Whether the Barbarian and Tony Atlas can achieve championship status remains to be seen, but Cactus certainly has them believing in themselves. With their new positive energy, their strength, agility and skill and unpredictable behavior of Cactus Jack at Ringside, the Barbarian and Tony Atlas could be championship bound.

[Here’s how the Barbarian looked back in the days when he was one half of the WWF tag team known as The Powers of Pain.

Cactus Jack may seem like a complete lunatic in the ring, but insiders say he isn’t as crazy as he acts. Yes, there's a method in his madness!

Cactus Jack’s new main man is Tony Atlas, shown here working over Greg “The Hammer” Valentine.]

Don’t laugh, stranger things have happened in the crazy world of professional wrestling!

[allzelemonz]

Moving Day: Micah Bell X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader is referred to as ‘boy’, ‘son’, and ‘mister’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/References to violence, Implied sex Warnings: Micah Bell is his own warning, Miss Grimshaw is a tough love mom, implied sex, references to violence Summary: Not wanting to upset the order Miss Grimshaw has in packing up camp to move, you let her know about you and Micah.

The sudden moves from camp to camp are common as a Van Der Linde gang member. A big job draws attention, Dutch orders a move when the law starts sniffing around or there’s just a need for fresh territory. A new town presents plenty of opportunities. The girls snoop around and find what’s worth the gang’s attention, Hosea runs his cons, and everyone spreads out to take on stagecoaches, trains, and homesteads. But things have changed since the last move and those in charge of camp need to be informed of these changes. Miss Grimshaw would kill you if you messed up her camp by leaving her out of the loop.

“Miss Grimshaw?” You ask, trying to sound as nice as possible and taking your hat off of your head to show her respect.

“Mister-” She sighs. “Unless you would like to assist, I am busy.”

She and the other women are loading up the supplies. Heavy crates and all.

“Of course, Miss.” You clear your throat, nerves making it dry. “I just don’t want to make things difficult when you’re unpacking.”

“Skip to it now.” She turns to you with her hands on her hips.

Something about her facing you makes this harder to say. “Mister Bell and I are sharing a tent now.”

You grip at your hat nervously, thankful you have something to mess with in your hands while Miss Grimshaw stares at you. You can’t look her in the eyes for long. The woman is menacing enough at a distance and you do well to keep out of her way whenever possible. Her eyes are like fire, but when you catch the nervous glance up at her face she just looks bewildered.

“My God, boy.” She sighs. “This camp is full of fine young men. What possessed you to lie down with a man like Mister Bell?”

You smile nervously. “I, um, I am not quite sure, Miss Grimshaw.”

“Well it would do you some good to rethink this.” She lowers her voice. “That Arthur Morgan is a fine man.”

At this you laugh, shaking your head. “I’m afraid I’m sure of my choice in life, Miss. I just wanted to make sure you were aware of the change for the sake of your packing.”

“Fine, fine. But if you have any trouble with that wretched man, I am sure most of us would have a fine time kickin’ him out of your tent.” She sighs, flattening her dress with the palms of her hands. “I will change our packing arrangements accordingly.”

You nod. “Thank you, Miss Grimshaw. Sorry to have disturbed you.”

“Oh, it ain’t you that disturbs me son.” She says. “Your choices, perhaps, but not you.”

She turns back to the carts and continues loading them up. It won’t take long for word to travel now. Miss Grimshaw will mention it to the girls and then it will spread like wildfire through the camp, even faster if it gets to Sean early on because he never shuts up. You place your hat back on your head and return to business of camp as everyone runs a few last jobs before you leave. Lenny and Sean are begging Arthur to go with them on one last robbery in the area, Bill and Javier already left for one. You find Micah next to Baylock, waiting for you so you can meet Dutch and a few others to hit the bank in the town you’re now leaving.

“How’d it go with the old witch?” He asks, adjusting the straps on his saddle.

“Fine.” You say, stopping near your own horse. “I’m sure the camp will be talking about it in a few days.”

Micah approaches you and pulls you closer, fitting his fingers under your gun belt. “Ain’t nothing wrong with people knowin’ ya belong to Micah Bell, is there?”

“Course not.”

He presses his lips to yours and your hands find his waist, snaking under his jacket. He chuckles when he pulls away and walks back to Baylock. “You’re lookin’ forward to it, people knowin’.”

The grin on his face makes you smile back. “I suppose.”

You both mount your horses and ride out to town where Dutch and a couple others wait by the saloon. As you hitch your horse, you catch the eye of Charles who has John whispering something to him. His eyes move from you to Micah. They know, word has spread faster than expected.

[jennyandvastraflint]

Xena reactions S1Ep3 (I unfortunately don't have English reactions for the first two eps. They're at least half in German)

Xena Episode 3

Awww, Gabrielle training. (sword stuckkkk)

"You're lucky the tree was unarmed" 😂

Wisdom before weapons

Xena three seconds later: *pulls sword*

NOOOO, GABRIELLE BABYYY kein Schwert!

Uh oh. Orpheus? Or Morpheus? *rewinds* yeah, no idea. Probably Morpheus. Cos title: Dreamworker

"I'm waiting for you to say it for me" Pfft, the lesbianism

Gabrielle... No swordies for u

Oh yeah. Morpheus.

"You must be experienced then." "I've had experiences" SO valid as an answer

"Bigger" Xena staring at her breasts.

"IT'S NOT LIKE YOUR BREASTS ARE DANGEROUS ENOUGH" dhdhdvsvsva GABRIELLE

*shoves guy against barrel* Oop. She is BIG MAD her gf is gone. (Vastra 🤝 Xena)

"I'm not the wifey type" LESBIAN

Uh oh. Gabrielle senses opportunity

Ooooop, Gabrielle shouldn't kill

Travel dreams to save her love. (Something something "time travel was always possible in dreams")

"Use your own mind against you" uh oh

Is she wearing purple? Pwettyyy (not giving Katie McGrath at all, yes I'm gay)

OHHHH. Names of her victims. It's so much harder to kill when you see people as people...

"Kill us" oh yikes I'm getting hooj FMAB vibes from the philosopher's stone scenes. Especially in uhhhhh when they're stuck in the wrong portal

Oiii, Morpheus is not an ally to lesbians. Rude. Boo

Gabrielle my pretty princess I will fall to my knees are worship at your feet (I'm gay)

Remember Xena's words, Gabrielle

She made them fight each other, whoop

I want them to speak through either dreams-

Ohhh. The lesbianismssss xD So gae

Look at the gays

NOOOO, SHE FADES NOOOO *flashbacks* CAN WE STOP MAKING LESBIANS FADE FROM DREAM SPACES at least Gabrielle wasn't fucking MURDERED i guess

"It was a hypothetical question"

PFFFT Gabrielle bargaining for beauty sleep xDD

Why was the sword quality of the first sword so shitty?

PLS THE WAY THEY ACTUALLY STOP. AND START FIGHTING EACH OTHER. I love her.

Wow Gabrielle has SO much luck

"Soon she'll be just like you" ahhhh

Xena doesn't want Gabrielle to suffer that way

Ohhh, she controls her own passage!

Woman 👀 Smexy

OOP, IT'S XENA HERSELF

"It means I finally get to kill you" HUH

Did I mention women are super sexy

Awww, poor Gabrielle

"If you were that strong I would never have left you"

HAH. She disappearedddd

Gabrielle. Give that sword to Xena

GOOD GIRL

Boob knife boob wife

PUNCHING HIM YESSSS. IMPRESS XENA

"10 percent off everything" shdhdhs

Yay, blind man got his job back (don't like his miracle healed sight but whatever)

"Mythical priests in your area"

Gabrielle my beloved

"We're all capable of it" The waterrr

"But if we sit here long enough, it'll go back to calm" HHHHH

They're so gay

The water is calm as they leave... Xena at Gabrielle's side

Um yes I will absolutely use a concept similar to this in a Jenny/Vastra fanfic at some point btw. I have the dreamspace and a psychic connection to exploit, hellooo.

I absolutely adore Xena and I think I'll spend the next few weeks watching only that.