#anyways I’m fuckin exhausted

[hannahhasafact]

I’m probably the only fucker dumb enough to want to pay my student loans off but my god I’m so tired of having my net worth be negative dollars I would like to just be able to exist

[jasperyourmutt]

Need a dom that will lovingly but firmly pull me away from my work desk at the end of the day and refocus my attention on a chew toy or something

[hopecomesbacktolife]

GODDD getting accommodations at work should not be this fucking hard.

where is my Star Trek utopia where we don’t even have to worry about this ridiculous back-and-forth bureaucracy rife with miscommunications and where people will just be fuckin decent to disabled & chronically ill folks 🫠🫡

[netripper]

actually now that i think ab it johnny wouldn’t get pissy over vic’s driving. he strikes me as a joyride kinda guy. i’m like 100% sure he grew up around a bunch of car rednecks with these crazy ass hotrods in the 90s, then hotrod culture died down, then he got to NC and lo and behold it’s fuckin flourishing

[myfriendtheghost]

good morning baby boy

[apocryphalfemme]

.

[homerjacksons]

God can we just skip to the end of april so I can relax?

[kaisturni]

pillow princess | c.sturniolo

→ chris x fem!reader

→ plot; traveling with the triplets, y/n usually shares the room with nick. in a sudden change of plans, she ends up sharing the room with chris. with the unexpected presence of one bed for the two to share, tension arises through the night when only inches separate them.

→ warnings; SHMUTTT, dom!chris, swearing, fingering, grinding, unprotected sex, cum eating, hair pulling, creampie, use of nicknames

→ a/n; this one has so much build up i didn’t even realize so sorry 😛 thank you to everyone who voted, hope you guys love it!

NOT PROOFREAD (sorry)

——————————————————————————

“that flight was terrible,” i groaned, the boys all nodding in agreement, everyone stretching their limbs every which way.

“honestly i just can’t wait to get to the hotel, anyway, i call sharing a room with matt,” nick says, as the four of us wait for your check bags to arrive.

“what! why?” i shoot a confused look at him, since nick and i are always the pair to share a room together, hell we have so many sleepovers, even sharing a bed isn’t a problem.

“because you fuckin snore, y/n,” nick states bluntly, i feel my face falling into offense.

“no i don’t!” “yes you do,” the three say in unison. i always hated when they did that. it’s creepy. but i’m confused at this sudden accusation, because nick has NEVER brought up anything about me snoring before.

i say my thoughts out loud “what are you talking about? even if i did, you sleep like a rock!” i retort.

“tonight is just NOT that night, besides we have to be up all day tomorrow to vlog AND film with sam and colby. besides, chris doesn’t mind your snoring anyway,” nick argues, chris shoots a cheesy smile and a thumbs up at me, i roll my eyes at the both of them realizing this is a losing battle.

“okay, whatever. just don’t keep me up all night,” i point a finger sharply at chris, since he’s always up until the break of dawn and even then has more energy than ive seen anyone have in the morning.

“noted.”

at least we’re not sharing a bed- i think to myself. not that it would necessarily be a problem, but for some reason he always made me so nervous. i dont want to admit it’s a crush, and i dont think sharing a bed with him would help with the aching nerves i get being around him. the thought of the circumstance makes me shudder. best just not to think about it.

✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

we all go to nick and matt’s room first, just to film some of the vlog. we all explore the room, opening every drawer and examining the snacks on the tv stand, and i admire how plush and soft the bedding is. at least i’ll sleep good on this tonight. chris seems to have the same idea as me, gripping on to the top part of one of the beds where it meets the headboard. i can’t help the thought of him doing the same thing but me beneath his body; the idea of it makes me squirm. i shake away the image as my ears tune back in to the conversations going on.

“that’s a really cool… deck!” chris exclaims,

“that’s a REALLY COOL DECK,” nick mocks him, eliciting giggles from both me and matt, and i almost forget for a second that this isn’t the room i’m staying in, and i try to keep the conversation going as long as possible.

after about 15 minutes of filming, matt hands the camera to nick, giving the outro for the evening.

“goodnight everyone, we’ll see you guys tomorrow when we go explore austin,” nick says to the camera, then shutting it off.

after our own collective goodnights, chris and i making our way down to our own space. i’m so exhausted i can’t even hear myself think. my eyes linger down the dim hallway to matt and nick’s room. i’m honestly still a bit bitter about the whole room situation, i make a mental note to scare the shit out nick at some point during filming with sam and colby to get back at him.

i unconsciously smile at the idea of it, not noticing chris looking back at me,

“what are you smiling about?” he says with a little giggle, i reconnect my brain to my actions, eyes widening at what he could be thinking about me stupidly smiling as he keys us in to the room,

“nothing, just thought of something funny earlier. it was a pretty cool deck,,,” i say in a sing- song voice mocking him, he rolls his eyes “yeah whatever, it wasn’t that funny,” he states, i do a mental cheer to myself that he didn’t catch on to me trying to unconditionally hide where my mind was going to after he said those words; to be fair i WASN’T smiling at the thought of us sharing a room, but considering how i had been acting about the whole thing, i’m not exactly sure how convincing my explanation was.

the door opens and he flicks on the lights, after my eyes adjust, both of us are met with a singular king bed, identical headboard facing the city of austin, i can see my eyes widen in the reflection of the window in front of us.

i feel my cheeks turn hot, and i can see chris out of the corner of my eye glancing at me, also keeping himself silent amidst our little… situation.

he breaks the awkward silence in the room by clearing his throat,

“gummy bears,” he starts, placing his bag on the plush white chair in the corner of the room, while i throw mind mindlessly on the floor trying my best not to think about the current situation

“i’ll be eating these tonight,”

“woah for free?” i say grabbing the bag from him, also making an effort to cut the awkwardness somehow still lingering in the air.

“no definitely for purchase,” he says walking around the room, “oh,” I throw the bag down, now uninterested in the snacks in front of me.

“what side do you like?” he asks, making himself comfortable right in the middle, arms stretched out on both sides, giving me a crooked smile.

cute.

“i prefer the left. but whatever side is fine,” i proclaim, doing my best to seem indifferent and not give him the impression that i’m going to be a pain to sleep with.

not like that, of course.

“good answer, i sleep on the right,” his smile doesn’t break as hops off the bed and rifles through his duffel bag,

“i’m gonna take a quick shower, won’t be long. put something on for us to watch,” i nod, and he disappears into the bathroom.

time passes as i’m left alone flicking through channels, eventually settling on a random movie i’m sure neither of us have seen before, this will do. i decide to find some pajamas of my own.

of course, my fucking luck and to my horror, i come up empty on a sleep bra AND shorts. i cant help but physically face palm myself at my lack of planning, but forgive me, i was anticipating on only nick seeing me in a lack of clothing.

i peel off the safety of the clothing i have on, and slip in to a separate thong and a t-shirt that is just barely covering my ass.

i’m so fucking stupid.

suddenly, the water shuts off and i race with myself to get back into my side of the bed to avoid chris seeing me and my shift in wardrobe.

he emerges from the bathroom, and i steal a glance at him, standing there with wet curls and his upper half still slick, highlighting all the muscles visible on his body.

the sight of him makes me heat up just to look at, and i cross my legs tightly to hopefully get rid of the aching between them, and flip my body around to face away, unaware to the fact that my ass is on display to him.

“no, no pants, huh?” i hear him let out a shaky breath from the other side of me, feeling my cheeks grow hot again, i make my best attempt to pull my shirt down and face him, beginning my ranted explanation.

“no yeah sorry i-i just was expecting to sleep with nick, this is what i usually wear i’m sor-“

he cuts off my rambling with a laugh,

“you’re fine, it just took me by surprise, that’s all. but you should probably move over, i think we should both go to sleep in a little,” he suggests, i can tell he’s being careful to not fully raise the covers, in order to avoid the exposure on my end.

i almost feel relief that he doesn’t care, but part of me wants him to care. to see him get hot and bothered by seeing me like that. but thankfully, yet unthankfully, this is a purely platonic sleeping arrangement.

“yeah, yeah you’re right,” i let out half heartedly, letting my eyes travel back to the scene on the tv, but i can’t help but peer out of the corner of my eye and notice how good he looks.

fuck.

his jaw tight in seeming concentration of the nonsense in front of us, hair messy from his shower, his chest slowly rising up down and rhythm and i almost let my eyes wander down his body to the waistband of his pants or even lower, but i don’t dare to allow myself the chance.

✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

my eyes shoot awake, and i prop my arms up to look at the clock a few feet away,

3:24am.

the tv is shut off, and chris is calmly sleeping beside me. i guess i had unknowingly fallen asleep at some point during the movie. i sigh and rub my face, beginning to make my attempt to fall back asleep again. suddenly, there’s a shift in the bed and i feel an arm snake across my hip and pull me closer.

i gasp and freeze at the contact, not daring to make a move. i feel chris’ hands squeeze at my hips, and a barely audible groan escapes his lips. my breath starts to pick up when i feel him harden against my ass.

i don’t know if i can take this. he isn’t even awake right now. he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

i quickly turn to face him,

“chris!” i whisper yell and shake his shoulder, with his hand still holding on to my nearly bare hip.

as he comes to consciousness, he deeply inhales and lets his eyes adjust to the darkness. realization hits him when he quickly removes his hand from me and darts up into a seated position. i can almost see him blushing despite the dark haze around us, the same feeling creeping upon myself for the nth time tonight as we sit in silence, which is quickly broken by his voice.

“shit, y/n, i-i’m sorry,” he begins, “i was just dreaming and, and i didn’t realize what i was doing I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he explains. my brows furrow slightly as i realize the context of his words.

“what was the dream?” i ask, my own curiosity getting the best of me, but the confidence in knowing he was most likely having some sort of sex dream about me makes the lustful side of myself take over.

his head tips back, i can tell he’s contemplating his next words.

“you. y/n. us. right now. i always thought you were pretty, but you looked so fucking hot earlier, like you’re literally half naked in the same bed as me. truthfully I’ve had feelings for you, and seeing you like that… it just made me want to fuck you,”

the last part of his statement is just barely above hearing level, and i’m honestly shocked at his confession. i didn’t think this would ever happen, that chris would ever see me in that way, but i got over that quickly.

i don’t know what came over me, but my actions and words only grew in seduction, and i was now determined to break him.

“sorry, i didn’t hear you, you wanted to what?” i crawl over and sit myself on his lap, placing my hands on his bare chest, and i feel his breathing and heart speed up.

“i want to fuck you, y/n,” he says in a single breath, and i take it as a sign to crash my lips into his.

the kiss is deep and sensual, his hands snaking down to my ass and squeezing, causing me to groan, and in response i grind myself onto him, feeling his dick grow hard beneath me.

the lack of material between us causes the wetness between my legs begins to rise quickly, and chris takes no time to comment on the state of my arousal.

“fuck y/n, i can already feel how wet you are,” he says between sloppy kisses, and one of his hands slaps my ass hard, the other gripping for dear life.

i gasp at his action, and his tongue fully enters my mouth, and i don’t bother trying to fight for dominance. all this new contact with him is already making me feel buzzed.

he flips us around so my back hits the bed, and i look up at him as he grips the headboard, our lips reconnecting in a matter of no time.

his hand gently tugs at my shirt, signaling he wants it off, and i inwardly smirk to myself knowing there’s nothing between my shirt and my bare body.

i swiftly remove it off my body, and even in the dim light he can see my chest, i purposefully squeeze them together causing him to bite his lip and move down to claim a nipple in his mouth.

i moan at the contact, he sucks hard at the sensitive bud, other hand snaking down to my panties, which i’m sure are now thoroughly soaked.

as if he read my mind, his fingers easily glide between my folds, and i whimper at the feeling.

“you’re so fucking wet—all for me, yeah?” he says lowly, those words coming out of his raise even more arousal in me, and the only thing i can do is nod and moan in response as he rubs my clit with his wet fingers.

he moves my black thong to the side, and i bite my lip in anticipation for his fingers to enter me, and he slowly inserts two, causing both of us to moan in harmony.

his lips rejoin mine, but the fast pumping of his long fingers inside me make it difficult to kiss him back.

i feel the knot building up in my stomach and i know an orgasm is approaching fast.

“c-chris, i’m gonna cum,” i breath out, shocked that i’m withering under my one of my best friend’s touch.

he hums at first, his pace slowly picking up, “cum for me pretty girl,” he purrs in my ear, i pant feeling the build up in my sensitive nerves release, him continuing to pump as i ride my high through his fingers, now covered in my own cum.

he brings his soaked fingers to his mouth, licking my juices off of his fingers,

“you taste so fucking good y/n,” he bring his hand down back to my folds, and i wince at the contact.

“suck,” he demands, bringing his fingers to my mouth, and i look him dead in the eye as my tongue swirls around his digits.

the eye contact pierced through me, and i let go of the grasp i have on his fingers with a pop, his lashes fluttering at the sound. chris’ lips meet mine again, and i hardly notice him removing his plaid pants, palming himself through his underwear and groaning into my mouth.

“is this okay? do you want to do this?” he asks, rubbing sweet circles on my inner thigh. how could i say no to him? we’re way beyond that.

i nod in affirmation, “more than okay, i want you, chris,”

chris smiles and swiftly pulls me to the edge of the bed, peeling away his last layer of clothing. his erection springs up, and i take a deep breath at just the sight of his size, tip leaking precum.

i instinctively spread my legs further for him, and he pumps himself a few times before aligning with my core, wetting himself between my folds.

he slowly pushes himself into me, and the sting of his size makes me hiss,

“i’ll go slow okay?”

i nod and close my eyes, and his forehead press against mine, pushing his dick further. i feel our hips meet and he pulls out almost all the way, before slamming into me.

fuck going slow.

i can’t control the loud moan that crawls from my lips, one from chris, “fuck,” follows soon after. his pace picks up; wet noises, skin slapping, and loud moans are the only sounds that fill the room.

he pulls himself out, and i prop myself on my elbows and give him a confused look,

“turn around,” chris grows, and i do without retaliation, sticking my ass far up in the air with my chest pressed against the mattress.

he wastes no time inserting himself back into me, going to his rhythm once again.

chris grips my hips so hard im sure they’ll be a purple hue in the morning, but that’s at the least of my concerns right now.

“god, you feel so good. you like bein a pillow princess, don’t you?” he huffs, continuously bringing our hips to meet at a pace faster than i think i can breathe.

the only way i can respond is through a muffled groan into the bunched up sheets, holding on as hard as i can.

he grabs my hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulls my head up,

“answer me. you like it, no- you love it, don’t you?”

“yes, i fucking love it chris!” i say as i gasp for oxygen, and he shoves my face back into the pillow, spewing praises and profanities into the air.

“i-i’m close baby, where should i cum? “chris says, his strokes becoming sloppier by the second, and i feel him twitch inside me, causing myself to clench around him.

“me too, shit, i-inside me, cum inside me,” i breath, way beyond fucked out to realize the consequences of those words.

with one last stroke, he releases inside me, and i feel myself become warm inside, both from him and my own cum painting his dick.

we simultaneously pant as he pulls out, and i flip myself over, feeling completely drunk off fucking him.

his body crashes down next to me, delivering sweet kisses to my face and lips, unlike his previous animalistic behavior just a few seconds ago.

“are you okay? how was that? did i hurt you?” he questions through pants, i giggle at the change in demeanor.

“i’m okay, it was perfect, and no you didn’t. i loved it, chris.” i say, running my hands gently through is slightly wet hair, some strands sticking to his forehead from the sex-sweat build up.

“i want to keep doing this,” chris starts

“me too-“

“but i want to be more,” the words leave his lips quickly, and his eyes focus between mine, analyzing my face, searching for a response.

“me too,” i state again, “but what are we going to tell nick? matt?” the idea of telling them didn’t cross my mind, but the anxiety of having to face them about that makes my heart race.

“we can keep it to ourselves— for right now,” the octave of his voice raising slightly at the end, posing his proposition almost as a question.

i smile and place a gentle kiss on his lips, “we can do that, but not for too long, okay,” i say after pulling away.

chris smiles warmly at me, “okay, but we should really go back to sleep. it’s 5:30,”

i almost get whiplash turning my head to look at the clock so fast, and i widen my eyes at how much time has passed.

“good idea,” i reply, shakily crawling back under the covers.

“you’re sleeping naked?” he questions.

“yes, is that a problem? you coming back here or not?” i raise my eyebrows at him,

chris shakes his head; “not at all, come lay on me,” he makes his way to his side and opens his arms for me, and i inch my way over into his warm grasp.

chris places a soft kiss on my forehead, and i can feel myself slowly drifting into sleep. i don’t think im going to scare the shit out of nick, my mind thinking of my previous vendetta against him; little does he know he did me a huge favor.

[stevenose]

Yes. Yes we can talk abt high steve. I think it’s like this.

taking an edible w steve always starts so giggly and then at the 30min mark he’s capital h Horny. ur joking abt something so inconsequential w him and suddenly he’s like “haha you know what’s really funny. i wont u…”

and you indulge him, let him paw at you and blab nonstop about how good you feel, and you only laugh a little when he acts like your tits are the most mind-blowing thing he’s ever seen, and just when he gets his mouth on you is when YOUR high hits. and you’re sitting there, feeling like everything around you is melting except for him, feeling both so in love and so carnal while he fucks you, and cums, and then keeps going because he’s Insane. and he doesn’t stop talking the whole goddamn time because he’s INSANE.

this took me a while to reply to bc i had to put my phone down and walk away…

it’s cute to think abt being best friends and you KNOW if you both get high with each other you’re going to fool around. but you never acknowledge it. it’s this unspoken thing.

so you’re both stressed out and decide to take an edible. sitting real close to each other on the couch while a random movie plays. you’re trying to pay attention - honestly. you both are at first, giggling, slowly getting higher and higher.

“think it’s kicking in,” he says, sinking into the cushions. his eyes are hooded. you’re pretty sure his high started a while ago and this is just the only time he’s verbalized it.

“you okay?”

“uh-huh.” his head lulls to the side. “you?”

“mhm.”

“you with me?”

“mhm,” you repeat.

you stare at each other for a long while. steve’s cheeks flush.

he giggles. you giggle. and then both of you burst into a fit of them, laughing beyond the point of being able to breathe, feeling exhausted and restless.

it happens out of nowhere, as usual. steve’s mouth is on yours quickly, hands enveloping your cheeks. he holds you so you don’t move away - as if you would. your hands curl into his hair and you sigh, relaxed, high becoming heady.

a hand moves down to your chest, big and warm as it grips your breast. you groan, leaning into him further. he gasps as he pulls away, looking fucked out, eyes red and hardly open.

“need you,” he moans, his fingers tweaking your nipple. “c’mere.”

you’re sat on his lap now, his hard-on pressing into your core. you wish you weren’t wearing sweatpants. wanna feel his cock, feel it throb against your cunt. and you know it’ll get there, but you’re impatient. steve’s moaning like a whore below you, hands exploring every single inch of you. groping your ass, your thighs, his lips trailing down your neck.

“keep - keep doin’ that,” he begs, fucking his hips up into you. “feels so good, you’re so good to me.”

“steve.” you’re breathless. you can feel your heart beating so hard and heavy it almost scares you. you’re hyper sensitive, needy, grinding harder.

“tits,” he gasps. “need your tits, baby, they’re so fuckin’ pretty.”

you laugh at first, but it’s really not funny when his lips wrap around a nipple. you’re whining like a whore now, so desperate for him, for anything he’ll give you.

you’re really fucked up now, too. finally on his level, and all you can think about is him. everything is purely carnal. you’re hardly even thinking.

“leave hickeys,” you moan. “please, wanna remember.”

he sucks love bites eagerly into the plushness of your breasts.

“oh,” he whispers, “need to feel you, please?”

when you’re both bare and you’re sinking down on him, your favorite steve comes out - chatty, pussy drunk, touchy steve. hands moving everywhere again, five new hickeys on your body. he talks to you in between each.

“pussy - this pussy is made for me, huh? like we’re meant to be. perfect fit.”

you wouldn’t exactly call it that. he’s so big you feel like you’re splitting open. the high soothes the pain, feeling fuzzy rather than sharp.

“uh-huh,” you say anyway.

“i’m gonna cum. gonna cum in this tight — shit — mmmph —“

“yes,” you gasp, hips rocking. you’re both moving slow even though everything feels like it’s moving fast. “yes, steve, feels so good when - i love it when you -“

you shudder. you can’t even get the words out.

“say it,” he grits. “quick, i’m close.”

your stomach flips violently, clit pulsing. his thumb lazily flicks against it.

“love it when you cum in me.”

he plants his feet and fucks into you, rough and sloppy, making you fold into him. you bury your head into his shoulder and wail.

“my best friend,” he grits. “fuckin’ love you.”

you press open mouthed kisses to his skin. “i love you. oh my god, i love you, please cum.”

his grunts and groans are pornographic, unloading into you, so warm. feels so good when you’re high - spreads the bliss through your body. you cum a moment later, just from the feeling of his balls pressed against your ass, his thumb still swiping.

but he doesn’t stop. you squeak, a little sore, a little overstimulated.

“steve -!”

“i know,” he groans, continuing to fuck you. he’s breathless, so goddamn hot with his messy hair and dark eyes. “i’m sorry, i can’t stop, y’feel so goddamn good i just - i can’t - need more, please?”

“okay,” you breathe.

he sighs. “my good girl.”

[luvst4rc0r3]

Just imagine Jinx about to devour your pretty pussy and stops to write on your thigh: JINX WAZ HERE, with an arrow pointing toward your wet center, before finally devouring you like a hungry woman. I would love it if you could write it down if you can!

IM SORRY IF THIS IS NOT WHAT WAS EXPECTED!! I’m not good at writing smut😭😭☝️☝️😒

“Welcome Home”

Jinx x f!reader

WARNINGS: Smut

WC:1848

Def not proofread

Jinx is full of surprises.

They can be good! But they are definitely unexpected.

She had been pent up from the last couple of weeks because she has gotten mission to mission back to back with no you to comfort her.

You had also been on missions back to back but in Ionia for weeks.

You haven’t been able to see each other for three weeks!

But now that all changes

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

The door had barely clicked shut before you felt a body slam into yours, nearly knocking the breath out of you.

“Jinx—”

“Shut up.”

Her arms locked around your waist, and her face burrowed into your neck, breathing you in like she was afraid you’d disappear again. A breathy, almost whiny exhale left her lips, and she pressed a kiss to your pulse point.

“Three weeks,” she muttered. “Three. Weeks. D’you know how long that is? Do you know how fuckin’ much I missed you?”

You sighed, dropping your bag onto the floor and wrapping your arms around her. “I missed you too, baby.”

She pulled back, blue eyes flicking over your face, scanning you. The exhaustion must’ve been obvious—the deep-set tiredness in your eyes, the tension in your jaw. And if that wasn’t enough, Jinx could read you like an open book anyway.

“What’s wrong?”

You groaned, rolling your head back. “People. That’s what’s wrong.”

Her brows furrowed. “People?”

You exhaled sharply, fingers twitching against her waist. “Every time I turned around, someone was flirting with me. Some rich bitch, some cocky business guy, even my damn driver. I was so close to knocking a guy’s teeth out yesterday, Jinx, I swear—”

Jinx had already been irritated about the fact that you were gone, but this? This was fuel. Her fingers curled against your back, her nails digging just a bit too hard. She always got possessive, but this wasn’t just jealousy—this was frustration, anger, pent-up need.

And she wasn’t about to let you sit there all tense and frustrated and wound up tight when she could do something about it.

“C’mere.”

Before you could react, her fingers curled into your jacket and yanked you forward, crashing her lips against yours.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t slow. It was Jinx, raw and desperate, pouring all of her missing-you and how-dare-they-look-at-you energy into the kiss. Her teeth scraped against your bottom lip, her tongue dipped into your mouth, stealing whatever breath you had left.

Your hands shot to her hips, squeezing as you stumbled backward, your back hitting the door with a quiet thud. Jinx was on you, fingers fisting in your hair, knee slipping between your legs as she pressed you against the wood.

“You’re mine,” she mumbled against your lips, her breath hot, her hands sliding under your shirt, nails raking up your stomach. “Bet they wanted you.”

You shivered as her lips trailed down your jaw, her hands sliding under your jacket to press against the warm skin beneath. “Didn’t matter,” you managed, voice breathy. “They weren’t you.”

Jinx let out a low hum, pleased, as she nipped at your neck, her teeth grazing over sensitive skin. “Damn right,” she muttered before sucking a mark there, her tongue flicking over the spot to soothe the sting. Her hands roamed—slow, teasing, like she had all the time in the world now that you were finally home.

Your fingers tangled in her hair as she kissed her way back up to your lips, her breath hot against your skin. “Jinx,” you whispered, almost a plea.

She smirked, her hands gripping your thighs before effortlessly lifting you, making you gasp. “Shh, I gotcha,” she murmured, carrying you toward the bedroom. “You had a long trip, baby. Time to remind you where you really belong.”

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

Here you are. On the edge of your shared bed begging for another release.

“A-ah…baby please” you moaned out arching your back closer to her face to feel more. Your fingers were intertwined with the bed sheet .

She stops and looks up at you, “please what?” She cocks a sly smile while she says that.

You pout at her words but reluctantly give in, “I… I need to cum” you move your hand to cross your arms making your boobs pop out.

“Well when you ask like that…” she suddenly stops at looks behind you grinning.

You turn around to see what she was looking at and she grabs your chin turning it back to her and chides “who said you could look away?”

She kiss your lips and lets out a soft hum. “I’ll be right back”

You lie down on the bed closing your eyes, hoping to get a bit of shut eye before she came back.

You were too drown out in your thought of what was she doing to realize that she came back and was writing something on your inner thigh.

You didn’t even register it at first but when she complied the first stroke you jerk up.

“What are you doing?”

“Shh…don’t you worry your pretty head about it” she says while slowly caressing your underboob before slowly moving up to your nipple, pinching it softly.

You let a whimper before looking down at her. She was…writing or drawing something on your thigh?

You didn’t really care because she was making you let out these pornographic moans but just playing with your nipple.

When she took her hand away you let out a sad whimper at the lost of her touch.

“It’s ok baby” she reassures you before diving back into your drenched cunt. She was moving at an ungodly speed, her tongue lapping around your poor swollen clit.

“Jinx— fuck. Please—ah. please let me cum”

You barely let out your moans betraying you mid sentence.

She hums into your clit sending vibrations up your body as to say ‘yes’

With the hum of her approval and her still lapping at your cunt maybe going even faster, you came all over her face while moaning out wildly.

“Ah! Fuck Jinx. Mm… ha—ha!” Your body jerks uncontrollably towards her face. Your fingers were holding onto the bedsheets for their life.

Soon the your high came down and you collapsed onto the bed. Closing your eyes you could barely register Jinx’s words before you were knocked out.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

You woke up groggy, the remnants of last night’s chaos still buzzing faintly in your skull. The room smelled like gunpowder, sugar, and something vaguely chemical—classic Jinx.

Stretching, you groaned, only to feel something… weird. Like dried paint, flaking against your skin. Blinking away the sleep, you sat up and glanced down.

Oh.

A streak of neon pink ran along your inner thigh, the texture thick and dry like it had been applied with purpose.

Jinx-level purpose.

You swallowed, a creeping sense of mischief crawling up your spine. Carefully, you swung your legs over the bed and shuffled to the cracked mirror hanging on the wall.

And there it was.

Scrawled in messy, chaotic letters—

“JINX WAZ HERE”

The paint marker had bled a little, the letters smudged at the edges, like she’d been giggling too much to keep a steady hand.

“Jinx,” you muttered, running a hand down your face.

As if summoned by sheer audacity, a snicker came from behind you.

Turning, you found her sprawled across the bed, grinning wide, blue eyes glinting like she’d just robbed a candy store.

“You like it?” she asked, chin propped on her hand.

You huffed, gesturing to your thigh. “You vandalized me.”

Jinx gasped, all mock offense. “Pfft, vandalized? No, no, sweets, this is art. My masterpiece. A statement.” She rolled onto her back, kicking her feet in the air. “Now everybody knows you’re mine.”

You crossed your arms. “Yeah? And what if I walk outside like this?”

Her grin widened, sharpened.

“Oh, I dare you.”

Your face burned. “You’re the worst.”

“Aw, babe,” she cooed, winking. “You love it.”

…Yeah. Yeah, you did.

IM TRYING TO COMPLETE ALL OF MY REQUEST TODAY AND TMR!!

I NEED FOOD

[peachdues]

rejoice everyone, my sex drive as returned with a vengeance.

MDNI. Explicit sexual content.

Inside your apartment offers little relief from the suffocating heat and humidity.

The air is thick with the scent of sex, musky and heady. Sweat sticks your hair to your forehead, slides down the side of your neck to join the thin sheen coating the rest of your skin. Above you, Sanemi fares no better, the ends of his hair having turned a muted gray from the moisture that’s gathered just above his brow.

The coarse hairs around his base are matted down against his skin, soaked from a combination of your cum and his. Still, the faint stimulation his groin offers against your clit with every feeble turn of his hips makes your thighs twitch and spasm where they lay draped over his.

One last, shallow thrust later and Sanemi stills. You hardly notice the shock of cold left behind as he pulls out and collapses next to you in a sweaty, panting heap. His little finger sneaks across the mussed blankets and interlocks with yours. It’s the only contact either of you can tolerate now; he knows it’s too hot for anything more.

“Jesus,” he pants, his voice hoarse from exertion. “That was fuckin’ incredible.”

Two weeks into your relationship with Sanemi and the novelty of it hasn’t worn off.

Despite the exhaustion sitting heavily in your limbs, you can’t help but smile. It’s what he says every time after you’ve finished, and it’s always with the same, breathless wonder.

Content, you roll to your stomach, kicking the blankets away where they tangled around your shins. You bury your face into the lumpy pillow and sigh, marveling at the gush of fluid from between your thighs that further dampens the sheets below.

You don’t mind; Sanemi will wash your sheets for you, anyway, like always. Besides, it may be hot and stuffy inside your apartment, but the warmth left behind by him is a welcome one; tangible proof of how thoroughly he’d just claimed you.

Sanemi is nothing short of thorough.

Exhausted though you are, you can’t help the flutter in your stomach as you feel his hand smooth up the back of your thigh, his fingers gently massaging your hamstring, and then your ass.

If he were to straddle your backside right now and slide into you from behind, you wouldn’t know how to object; wouldn’t want to, anyway.

He’s only taken you from behind twice in the weeks since you’ve begun sleeping together, but it’s rapidly become your favorite position by far. The first time had been slow; a lesson more than an indulgence, with Sanemi gently bending you over the side of your bed, his hands guiding your hips into place and pressing on your spine to deepen the arch of your back.

The second time had reduced you to tears.

There’d been no manipulation of your body that time. Instead, he’d shoved a pillow under your belly and mounted you, those big, strong hands of his holding you down by the small of your waist as he’d rutted into you, hard and deep. At first, you’d only managed a few, gasping squeaks, too focused on the way Sanemi’s thick tip battered away at that spot deep inside that made your toes curl.

One hand pinned your wrists to the small of your back while the other wound gently through your hair. With a firm tug, he pulled your head back, pausing only to press his lips softly to the crown of your head in quiet reassurance.

Then, came his command. Scream, baby. Show me how good I’m makin’ you feel.

Right on cue, Sanemi slammed his hips forward, pushing right into that painfully wonderful spot that made you see stars. He drew back and hit it again and again, and you couldn’t help but wail for him while your eyes rolled into your head, your throat, burning.

You’d ended up making an embarrassing mess atop your sheets, one that made your legs jerk and twitch so violently that Sanemi had been forced to pin them down by pressing his feet to your calves. Yet, he’d seemed to delight in your ruin, if his rumbling baritone groans had been any metric to go by. Certainly the increased force behind his thrusts as he fucked you harder into the mattress meant he hadn’t minded. Not one bit.

But if Sanemi wants to have you again, now, he doesn’t act on it. Instead, he finishes his appreciative knead against your ass and sits up, running a hand through his hair. From the corner of your eye, you spy him as he pretends to look back at you, half-asleep atop the messy heap of your pillows and blankets.

His quiet exhale of approval gives him away. He’s not admiring your post-sex beauty; his attention is locked squarely on the mess he’s left between your thighs.

He’s admiring his handiwork just as much as you are.

[carmenberzattosgf]

[Lights up a Newport]

Carmy’s fingers in the reader’s mouth while they’re drooling on his tattoos, getting his knuckles wet. Maybe with, perhaps, a little d-word mention???

It came to me violently and I couldn’t stop thinking about it: something like lying in bed needing to sleep, but she’s too restless. It’s three a.m., they’re both exhausted, and Carmy’s half-asleep and agitated at her moving. He grumbles something like, “C’mere,” and hooks an arm around her midsection so that her back is flush to his chest. Then the tips of his middle and index fingers graze over her lips and he’s like, “Put ‘em in your mouth, baby. Suck on Daddy’s fingers so we can get some fuckin’ sleep.” Unfortunately, seeing all his pretty veins and ink do not help her to fall sleep.

Anyway, I’m drunk and ovulating and his hands make my monkey brain go brrr </3

(Hey so this made me go a little bit insane. Holding myself back to keep this in blurb form)

You’ve tossed and turned over a dozen times by now, but you can’t get to sleep. Carmy’s beside you on the bed, sleeping on his back.

The next time you turn over to face away from Carmy, he stirs. “Baby, gotta stop moving around,” he mumbles, voice sleepy. ‘C’mere.” His arm wraps around your waist and effortlessly pulls you into his body, pressing your back to his chest.

“M’sorry—didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No need to apologize—just need you to stay still for me.” Carmy’s hand at your waist slowly trails up your body to your mouth. His pointer and middle finger prod at your bottom lip. “Open up, yeah? Suck on daddy’s fingers.”

Your mouth opens immediately, taking his fingers into your mouth. Your hand wraps around his forearm to keep him in place. He doesn’t try to press into your mouth, letting you control how deep his fingers go.

“That’s it—good girl,” Carmy coos as you start to suck lightly on his fingers. Absentmindedly, you trace the visible tattoos on his arm with your thumb. When you run out of ink to trace, you trace over the veins in his arm instead.

Carmen notices you still haven’t settled, even after ten minutes. Drool is settling at the base of his knuckles, threatening to drip onto the bedsheets. “Sweetheart, we need to go to sleep.” His lips are right up against your ear, so he speaks in a gentle tone. “If you can sleep for me, I’ll fuck you awake in the morning. That sound good?”

You whine around his fingers, nodding your head in agreement with him. Sleep overtakes you soon after. The last thing your remember before falling asleep is Carmy placing gentle kisses at the back of your neck.

[paintedonmyteeth]

Sleepy Cuddles w/ Pyramid Head 🩸🔪 △

Pyramid Head brainrot goes brrr. Pyramid Head brainrot is forever eternal, anyway — yeah I have yet another post of Pyramid Head because I’m bored, my brain had ideas, and I NEED him so I feel like catering myself once again w/ Pyramid Head. That’s all I can say. OH YEAH might I add, rather than Silent Hill’s PH like my last few posts this time I decided this time around I’m gonna do DBD Pyramid Head. Also a heads up for the small nsfw warning in this post, so MDNI.

Doing back to back trials or maybe more is always tiring. Leaves you all sleepy asf, grumpy, and really not wanting to be thrown into another trial for the entity’s amusement.

Usually you’d try sleeping around the campfire or take short naps, literally whenever you have the chance to do so before the entity drags you off to another random map, and it can get pretty annoying when you don’t get no breaks to rest. >:((

And what’s better than looking for none other than your favourite tall killer, the Executioner for some cuddles???

If you need cuddles or sleep, Pyramid Head’s always there in Midwich waiting for you whenever he’s not busy with any trials of his own. :))

He loves earning small visits from you while the both of you have some time to spend when the Entity isn’t calling for either of you for the next trial.

The two of you meet up usually in the halls of the school or some random classroom if Pyramid Head happened to be looking for you first. The nurses office is where the two of you kick back and relax in each other’s company most often, because that’s where all the old mattresses are left on the rusted metal bed frames.

The beds are way too small to fit with Pyramid Head’s large figure so the both of you would settle with stripping off all the mattresses from the bed frames, lie them all on the floor stacked atop each other by 2 by 4 for bigger space.

Cuddles w/ the big guy are the fucking best. And he enjoys cuddling you too.

Because of the huge height differences between the both of you, he thinks you’re the perfect size so he could gently squeeze you in his arms while you’re all curled up with him.

And don’t forget about them man tiddies, his tiddies are the best for a pillow but in the end, you’re waking up with a sore neck. But it’s fucking worth it. >:))

It’s also soothing listening to his breathing from his rusted helmet or the soft growls rumbling from his chest, which kind of reminds you of thunder rolling through the sky in the distance.

As I mentioned the last time in one of my other hc posts with Pyramid Head, he’s a fuckin’ walking heater and all that body heat radiating from him while you’re pressed against him with his arms around you is just pure bliss.

Feels so nice to pass out in his arms especially with all that exhaustion and the multiple trials you went through still racking your brain, and he likes it how easily you conk out the moment you get comfy with him just in a matter of seconds.

On some small occasions there’s times where Pyramid Head is also hornee and wanting help with finding some relief, once granted consent he’ll keep in mind how tired you are after all those trials you went through of course, this time around he’ll restrain himself from going too rough on you and will opt to fucking you gently and at a slower pace. Getting some relief out of this and also helping you destress, a small little reward for doing such a great job. <33

After cuddles and naps with Pyramid Head you’re feeling all rejuvenated and energized to keep pushing on through more trials the entity has yet to throw at you.

Sometimes it’s not enough and Pyramid Head will decide to keep you for a little while longer, drawing the entity’s attention in some instances and having to fight with them in order to prevent the entity from ripping you away from his grip.

Few minutes wasn’t enough he wants more time with his precious. Fuck off. >:((

Besides the exhaustion or stress from everything in the entity’s realm, you still visit Pyramid Head whenever just for more cuddles or naps to give the big guy some company and spend more time with your beloved Executioner.

🥩⋆♱✮♱⋆🔪 🩸

[readingwhileonthetrain]

How They Fuckin

Konig, Ghost, Soap, Price, Alejandro, Miguel O’Hara, Aizawa

Expectations vs Reality

Konig: giant, tank-ram is slamming into you. Cry. Scream. It just fuels the way he wants to hear you suffer and remind you how you’re worthless.

reality: hey..tell me when it hurts okay? I’m going slow, please..hold me like I’m holding you

Ghost: Stoic, unfeeling and intimidating man is just here to get his fill. He’ll blow your mind and be gone by morning.

reality: so..after 6-8 months of warming up to each other..I’ve determined that you are uh a safe space - or person - for me. Neck kisses are following and he isn’t as slow as Konig but it’s clear he’s still cautious.

Soap: cmon lass! Drink and dance to the music! Be merry! Make out! Giggle, be drunk and dance your way onto a bed and suddenly you both are making the mattress jump. Fun sex!

reality: oh no it’s exactly like that. Only difference is that he can be tough as hell the way you would expect Konig or Ghost to be.

Price: alrighty there..cmon..climb onto your big daddy’s lap..there you go. Daddy vibes, nurturing older man making you feel so spoiled, a sugar baby in the making. Gentle but firm. Fuck..why is it always the older ones?!

reality: oh no it’s exactly like that. The only thing is that you didn’t (but did) expect was him tying you up as you cry from being scared and nervous. He’ll reassure you that you’re fine. Just listen to daddy.

or he just straight up rebukes the whole daddy thing. Depends on the timeline.

Alejandro: That Latin passion is gonna be used tonight! Neck kissing, his lips touching your warm skin and just making you burn more. Affectionate phrases, the suave, the confidence, THE RIZZ

reality: suave? Yes. Smooth? Yes. In bed? Oh uhh..yea totally knows what he’s doing. Look, as a Hispanic/Latina, the smoothest ones be the best flirts but then beyond bachata on the dance floor, he needs a moment. Go on and guide his hands and he’ll eventually know how to buck his hips.

Miguel O’Hara: fuck yes papi, punish me. Release all your stress onto my tiny body (compared to his). Full dominance.

reality: okay so his expectation kinda is true. But the whole stress fuck and duck doesn’t last long compared to the way he avoids showing how sensitive he is. Cmon, he’s all angst. He’s gonna need some tender loving..it’s not that he’s sub! Just..shut up and let him suck on a tit while you slow wine into a passionate grind before you’re full on riding him. Listen to him whimper dear god

Aizawa: secretly the roughest fuck you’ve ever had. All that sleep and exhaustion disappears when your sweet cunt is near. Watch it, bitch, you getting fucked and tied.

reality: still sleepy. Sure there’s moments where he has that sudden boost and you are in fact getting rammed as if he’s a starved man and fucking you will get him food. But he does enjoy those soft, sensual, lazy cuddle fucks while laying down.

anyways thanks for letting me ramble

[the-californicationist]

Cali's Kinktober: Day 03

Kinktober Masterlist in absentia lucis - "in the absence of light" John Price x f!reader Kinks > rape, torture, sensory deprivation Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.

You are a new recruit to the CIA, and Kate Laswell sends you to some remote blacksite for your interrogation training. Your temporary commander, Captain John Price, gives you a safeword, but as your training begins, you realize that you feel everything except for safe. 

Hey, did you see where the tags said RAPE? Okay, just making sure.

It was three flights and a cab. It was airport food and cold coffee. It was forgetting whether the date ended in a three or a four. It was paperwork and passports and finally a cold office. It was a long trip, and you were running on empty. 

“What are your expectations, here, Katie? I don’t wanna do another Warsaw situ–” The man complained.

“This is nothing like Warsaw. She can handle it. Trust me.” Your boss replied, her voice crackling over the video call.

The man who complained squared his jaw and fixed his eyes on you again, looking at you fresh now that your handler, Kate Laswell, had vouched for you. You tried not to fidget in your seat. You didn’t sit up any straighter. You weren’t here to advertise yourself as the bravest or the toughest of anything. You knew you still needed a lot of training, and if he wanted to draw his own conclusions about you, then that was his business, not yours. 

“Her scores are high. She beat your exam?” 

“She did. Her field test and her ‘chute certifications were performed at a DF site here in the states.”

There was a long pause before Laswell spoke again,

“Do me this favor and maybe I’ll even let you borrow her for a recon mission or two. I know none of your boys are pretty enough to pass for party girls, but mine is.”

“That she is,” you heard his tone darken, thickening in his mouth like sticky sap from a tree, borderline inappropriate. When he saw your reaction to his comment, he turned back to the screen and said, “Alright, Katie. You got a deal. I’ll send her back once she’s out of recovery.”

“Thanks, John. Don’t go easy on her, or she’ll make you pay for it.”

“Is that so?” His wry smile sent a jolt somewhere in your belly that you didn’t appreciate.

She laughed and hung up the call. You waited, trying not to let the jitters or the exhaustion win out, battling both but feeling pulled in either direction just the same. 

“So,” he turned his attention to you at last, “Did you lay in your fuckin’ pink princess bed when you were a little girl and dream about becoming a bloody spy, or is this some sort of complex I should know about?”

You shrugged, 

“A man does what he must…”

“Careful, girl. Quoting Kennedy can’t be good for your health if you’re working in Katie’s office, hm?”

“You don’t need to know why I’m here, sir.” You used his title like a knife, flashing it right in front of his eyes and watching them ignite with his smoldering, quiet fury.

“No, but I bet I’ll find out during our time together,” he promised, making your heart clench with stress and anxiety, “What’s your safeword?”

“Red.”

“Red,” he repeated it to you as if he wanted to see how it felt in his mouth. Then, after a long pause, he explained, “I will also stop before the point of emergent damage. But, I will push you past the point of pain. You will sustain injuries. Do you understand what I’m saying to you, love?”

He seemed to be under the misconception that this was your first rodeo. You knew what you had come here for, and it wasn’t some drill sergeant to yell you into shape. You had already been through Delta Force’s operator training center - the parts they allowed CIA operatives through, anyway - and you’d surpassed what Williamsburg had to offer. You were aiming to serve as a Special Skills operative, the blackest of the black ops groups, and although you lacked the physical strength to be of any use in most field positions, you had one key factor that your fellow recruits didn’t have.

Men never expected a woman to be a threat. 

Laswell had plans for you. She’d tracked down two high value targets, but they were well-guarded. However, there were usually strippers and dancers and prostitutes as far as the eye could see, always partying and coming and going at all hours of the night. You were her way in. But, it was your job to get back out. If you could survive, you’d be a hero. If you didn’t, well, she had more pawns on the board. Not to mention, you had a mission of your own to complete..

So, you worked harder than anyone. You jumped at every field training exercise, you took martial arts classes in every different format you could find, and you lived at the shooting range. You didn’t have a social life. Usually, if you were alone in a room with a man, your fists were connecting with each other’s faces. 

You looked back across the wooden desk in front of you, over his nameplate - Captain Price - and into his startlingly blue eyes,

“I understand.”

He came out of his chair like a fucking demon, lunging for you without warning. As you stumbled backward, wielding your own chair over your shoulder, you sighed inwardly. You’d at least expected a more civilized initiation, maybe even a moment for a coffee, before he started in on his training. But, alas, that was not to be. 

You crashed the wooden chair against his head, neck, and shoulder as he rounded the desk, keeping hold of the broken armrest as a weapon. You stabbed downward, aiming for his throat and not holding back. He blocked you, cracking your wrist against the rigid wood. You stepped into his space, kicking his heel out from under him and following him to the floor. His head hit the concrete with a bang, and you used that moment to pin the armrest against his throat, bearing down on him with all your weight, dislodging his trachea enough to cut his air supply. 

He flung you off of him like a ragdoll, and your back slammed into the leg of the desk. You twisted underneath it, staying just out of his reach, small enough to fit through the gap. He scrambled up on all fours, cackling at you with a gravelly, menacing laugh before leaping up and over the desk to pull you out by your ankles. 

You kicked up and over, making contact with his nose, and when he dropped your other foot, you launched your heel into his balls, making sure to aim as deeply as you could. 

He coughed, and it was your turn to laugh. 

Your victory was short-lived. He launched his body at you, shoving your back down on the desk. You felt the familiar bite of his nameplate digging into your skull, so you dragged it out and swung it at him, cutting him across his cheek. He hissed, yanking it out of your hand and tossing it to the ground. 

The captain forced himself between your legs, pressing his body down on yours, and wrapped his hand across your throat. You fought like hell to get him off, twisting his pinky until you thought it might break, but he caught your wrists in his other hand, holding them at a terrible angle, choking you until you saw rainbow spots discolor your vision. 

“Well,” he said, breathless and bleeding, “Christmas came early, dinn’it?”

Just making sure you read the tag that said this fic has RAPE IN IT. I'm just checking in again. Just want you to know. Okay, thanks.

When you woke up, you weren’t completely sure of it, at first. It was as if you were still asleep. You opened your eyes, but all you saw was an endless blackness. You couldn’t hear anything, you couldn’t smell anything, and you couldn’t move your jaw. But you could feel everything. 

Your whole body screamed in pain. One of your hands was wrenched above your head, and the weight of your body hung from your broken wrist, making you cry out in whatever muffled way you could.

Then, something was removed from your ears, and you could hear again. It was still quiet, but the sound of the aircon and the noise of another person’s breath were like blaring sirens compared to the silence you had been steeped in. 

“Look who’s awake,” John’s purr of a voice washed over you. 

You tried to reply, tried to beg for him to cut you down, but you couldn’t speak. Your mouth was holding something round and pliant. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” he patted your flank, and you were suddenly aware of your nakedness. He’d taken your clothes? You could hear him scooting a metal chair across the room towards you, and his pants rustled as he sat down, “Can’t have you talkin’ your way out of this one. Based on the three stitches in my cheek, I was wrong to underestimate you, darlin’. Shoulda listened to Katie, this time. But, look at you. Just a whisper of a thing.”

His rolling chuckle made your bones itch. 

“Hard to use a safeword when you’ve got a gag on, yeah?”

You nodded, acknowledging the irony. 

Price moved in the chair again. No, he stood. You could hear his boots sliding around you in a half-circle. He kept talking to you, his tone as casual as ever,

“Yeah, thought so. But, this isn’t one of those trainings, pretty girl. You won’t be needing one. I will stop when you’re ready to stop, not when you want to stop. You need to learn that, sometimes, your body…” His hand snaked its way around your thigh and you tried to kick out at him, discovering your ankles were tied together and anchored to the floor, “... is capable of so much more than you give it credit for.”

Your heart began to slam against your chest, and your breathing became labored. You were having a panic attack. If you could only see…

“Hey,” his tone shifted, becoming the instructor again, “Breathe slowly. In. Hold it. Out. All the way. In. Out. Tha’s it. Good.” 

There was a long pause. You could smell him now. It was cigars and fire and gunpowder and smoke. It filled your senses, replacing your sight with scent. 

“I’m gonna put your ears back on, and we’ll see what you can do.” 

The world fell away again, and all you had was the smell of him. Then, he started his training. 

It wasn’t the pain that upset you, not really. Pain was something you could move past. It was the surprise. You never knew when it was coming, nor where he was going to hit you next. Sometimes it was his fist. Sometimes it was a belt. Sometimes it was an electric shock. Legs, ribs, foot, arm, neck, belly… there was no pattern. 

You also had no idea of the passage of time. You were infinite and you existed in the darkness of infinity. It was just pain forever with no reprieve. 

Until it wasn’t.

The first time you felt his fingers pinching the tender peaks of your breasts, your whole body jolted. You hadn’t really responded to the pain in the same way, but to pleasure? It was unexpected in a different way. You didn’t think he would violate you. That wasn’t even something they’d tried to do when you were with the DF. 

You bucked, hoping that your displeasure was noted for the record. 

But, perhaps, your mind teased you, the lady doth protest too much? You had wanted him to touch you when he’d picked you up from the airport. When he shook your hand, hadn’t you measured his fingers and started wanting? Weren’t you eager for training to be over so you could be invited back to his flat for the after-work romp you knew would be on offer?

Hanging there like a slab of meat had changed things a bit, but it had not quelled your desire, unfortunately.

You wondered if he had reacted. You imagined him laughing at you. Was he enjoying himself? Or was this all apart of his brand of training? 

I bet you choke out all the pretty girls… you sneered inwardly. 

More pain. This time, your ass cheeks were the targets. The snapping bite of what felt like a belt hit you repeatedly and without mercy. You found yourself breathless from silently screaming, your tongue pressing against the gag for some sort of relief and finding none. 

Then, pleasure again. His thick fingers fondled your pussy from behind, digging into your flesh and discovering the wetness hidden inside of your unused hole. There was no romance to his movements, but forcing an orgasm from you did seem to be his goal. And fuck, you lamented, he was good at it. 

He doubled up, twisting two fingers deep inside of you, pounding them into your body all the way to the knuckle, fast and hard, dragging you towards the edge. Your legs began to tremble, and you knew your face must’ve looked a mess, because you were in total shock. 

It felt like he was going to vibrate you right out of your skin, and still he moved faster. He wrapped his other hand around your belly, holding you in place, and you thrashed against it, fighting the mounting urge to come. 

You were doing pretty well, you thought, given the conditions. Until…

His soft lips pressed themselves down onto your spine. It was just a chaste kiss, but it unfurled you like a ripcord. You exploded, your whole body convulsing in bliss, and although you were wearing a blindfold, you could see white streaks and stars dancing across your vision. You came alive. 

Price pulled out of you, and you felt the stream of slick drip down your legs. He’d forced you to squirt, something you thought was completely faked, only for pornos. But, there it was, proof of its reality smearing down your thighs and onto the concrete floor. 

Pain, again. 

The searing sting of a taser in the sensitive flesh of your belly. 

Fists and harsh palms. 

The bite of a chain. 

A sharp ache from a needle or a knife. 

His fist closing around your index finger and snapping it cleanly in two. 

You wanted to puke, but there was nothing to come up. Your belly bulged and hollowed, letting you gag and choke around nothing, going through the motions and yet giving you nothing to move. 

Then, pleasure. 

His hands were back on your pussy, finding your clit and teasing you until you jerked forward. But, his hand remained, insisting. And insisting. And insisting. 

You lost track of how many times you’d toppled over the edge of your orgasm. There were no borders, not anymore. Your pleasure was bleeding and smearing all around you in one great wave, blinding you to the starts and stops from coming and not. You were drowning in it. 

Just when you thought you might pass out, you felt the prod of his prick between your legs, entering you from behind. You couldn’t feel a condom. You tried to twist yourself away, rocking your hips to no avail. 

This was definitely not protocol.

Those lips returned to the same spot on your spine, and you melted onto him, covering him like hot wax, sealing your body onto his cock like a brass signet, letting him leave his mark on you. 

His hands found your breasts, squeezing them roughly, holding your body to him in a vicious embrace. 

Then, he dug around inside of your mouth and yanked out the gag. You felt yourself make a terrible noise, but you couldn’t hear the sound that came out. You knew he could, though, because when he heard you, his cock throbbed at your entrance, and it made him push forward, dipping into you even deeper. 

Wait… Captain Price. Please. Wait. Wait. 

You wondered if you were as loud as you tried to be. In fact, you wondered if he could hear you at all because he did not stop. If anything, he went onward with even more fervor. 

His mouth kissed its way across your back, and you could feel his stubble and the coarse hairs of his beard raking their way along your skin. His warm tongue leaving little wet stamps as it laved across you, tasting your sweat. 

The way his fat prick was stretching you out made you question if he was using himself or the armrest of the chair that you had tried to kill him with. You hissed from the ache, but he didn’t halt his advance. Didn’t retreat. He just pressed further inside of you. 

How much cock did this jerk have?

Finally, you felt his hairy base tickle the skin under your ass cheeks, and you knew there was an end to his incredible length. 

What… why are you doing this? Why…

He pulled himself out in the same way he had pressed in, slowly and with a fierce persistence. 

Then, he began to pound himself into you.

You were at the perfect height for him, and it made you sick to your stomach to know that it was deliberate. This had been his plan all along. And although most of you felt completely indignant, there was a nasty little demon in your heart that celebrated in it. He’d wanted you from the start, even after you’d made him bleed, maybe even because of it. 

And that thought brought you no small amount of joy. 

His hands had returned to your breasts, playing with them too roughly. John was pinching your nipples and craning his neck around to suckle from them, nipping at them with his teeth until you screamed from the pain of being bitten. Even then, your screams were a poor deterrent. It didn’t stop him from returning to them, crushing the stiff tips as he worked his cock inside of you, fucking himself up into you at a punishing pace. 

He only pulled away to stick his tongue inside of your armpit, licking you over and over in a place where no one had ever even thought to lick, and you wished you could say, honestly, that it had disgusted you. But, it didn’t. If anything, it made you gasp with a new brand of pleasure. He had awakened something fresh and bright in you that you never meant to discover. 

Then, he got brave. He shoved two fingers right into your slack mouth, and you immediately bit down, hard. You could taste blood, and you fought against his flesh, trying to crack the bone. But, he shoved them down your throat, and all you had to chew on was a fat fist that wouldn’t even allow your jaw to close much less to bite. 

You could feel his fingers in your throat, deep down in a place where fingers were never supposed to go, and all you could do was swallow around them, trying your best to keep from drooling into your airway. 

His cheek pressed into your shoulder blade. He was enjoying you. 

The way his gentle kiss or the softness of his cheek ripped orgasms from you was concerning, to say the least. You hoped you could remember this moment, of how the way he rested himself against you as he was taking you against your vocal will was throwing your body down a deep well of dark, forbidden pleasure. How your vision burned white and gold and formed spots of colors that had no names as he fucked you into a different plane of existence. How you thought, if you got a late night text, written in his smoky, raspy Scouse accent, you would crawl your way back across the pond just so he could give it to you again. 

Oh, my God… You screamed from the pit of your belly. 

His thrusts never slowed. He was like a machine. All those muscles were being put to work, and you were the mission. 

Had it been hours?

Days?

Did the world still exist outside of this concrete cube that you suspected you were in?

Would you starve to death in here?

The demon that apparently lived in your cunt rolled its eyes and said, who cares? I wanna come again and again and again…

And you did. You were so overstimulated that you thought even someone looking at you the right way would make you come. It had become painful, at one point, and now you were not numb… Numb wasn’t the right word. You were soft. Your mind and your pussy were just murky, oily, cock-filled vessels, happy they were full and unwilling to question what it meant. 

When he finally pulled out of you, you were limp. You didn’t thrash or fight. You couldn’t, even if you wanted to. 

You felt his fingers again, drawing out your foaming, frothy come into his hand. He used it to smear it along the rim of your asshole. Then, he began to fuck your tight hole with his fingers, one. Over and over. One. One. One. Then, he added a second. Two. Two. A thousand times, two. Three was a bit of a challenge, but he pushed through. Three. Two. Three. Two. Three. Three. Three. And then, none. 

None. 

None. 

Where did he go?

Pain. A heavy hand slapping across your bruised tits. Again. Again. 

You were screaming, surely. You wanted to be, at least. 

The flat of his palm beat itself against your breast over and over without mercy. 

Then, his cockhead rested at the entrance of your asshole. 

You didn’t beg this time. If anything, he should be the one begging, you thought. If you lived, you were going to make him remember you. 

Price shoved himself inside of you with some force, but you took it. You waited until he was fully sheathed inside, and when he took a breath, when those lips rested themselves on the back of your neck, you beared down on him, hard. 

You felt his breath catch as it skittered across your skin. 

The demon in you chuckled in triumph. 

C’mon, Captain. Is that all you got? You made the words come out of your throat, and you hoped he could hear you. 

The way that his hand fisted itself in your hair told you that he had. 

If you thought he had fucked your pussy like an animal, you had been mistaken. He took your ass like he owned it. Like it was his toy. There was no pleasure-seeking rhythm, no careful pacing or grinding movements. He was fucking you because he wanted to come. So, you made him. 

Every time he dragged himself out, you let him go, but every time he pressed himself in, you fought him the whole way. Squeezing and pushing, squeezing and pushing, making your tight hole even tighter, rocking your hips to drive him mad with want. 

You felt him lose control, his hot spend filling your ass and bursting out of his swollen head, soaking your hole. You pulsed around him, and you felt that soft cheek return to your shoulder. 

Come for me, baby. Good boy. You giggled out loud. 

He slapped you across the mouth, and you laughed harder, feeling his cock slip out of you, spent. 

You can’t hurt me in a way that matters, John Price. Do your fuckin’ worst.

You felt him step around you, smelling his breath as he held you face to face. Then, the noise of the room came back and you could hear him panting, ragged and desperate. You felt the blindfold fall away and you could see him, your eyes shrinking in the dim light of the cell, hurt by even the smallest glow of light. 

You were back, but you were not yourself. Not anymore. You were a different you. Someone he had made. He had crafted you with his own hands. 

“Why? Why didn’t you beg me to stop?”

His eyes were burning into yours as he stared down at you, questioning what he had done, what you had done with him. You had used him like a sharpener, honing yourself to a high shine, and he didn’t understand. 

When you heard your voice for the first time, you mourned it a bit, but you knew it would come back eventually. It was raspy, muddled, and barely audible, but you said it with your whole chest,

“I was made for this, and I could go all fuckin’ day.”

“How long?”

“What?”

“How long did he keep you prisoner?”

Kate Laswell, you fucking bitch. 

He’d read your file. The real one. Not the one on your tagline, but the one that you and Laswell had hidden away. 

“Five months,” you told him, a sick smile on your face, “But, you already knew that.”  

He sighed, his hands on his hips, just as naked as you, which you found a little funny. 

“Why’d you come here? Why would she…” 

You watched him wrestle with the betrayal in his head, knowing he’d been manipulated. He’d walked right into her trap. You basked in his confusion, having almost as much fun as you’d had while he was railing you into oblivion. 

“Laswell said you needed a way into the Ikon, some strip club on the border between Russia and Urzikstan. So, I said I would help.”

“And she knew I’d say no…”

“Unless you knew I could handle it.”

It was his turn to be in pain. You could see the fire of it creeping through his belly, knowing he’d just tortured a girl who’d written the book in torture. The surgeries and the psych consults were long, long behind you, but your run in with the Russian mob was not something you were ever going to forget. But, now, John Price was going to give you a chance at revenge. You were his gun, and you just needed him to point you in the right direction. 

Suddenly, he cut you down, freeing you from your hanging place. You crumpled into his arms, letting him hold you as you collapsed. You used your hands to pet the worry out of his eyes, and he fought you for it, trying to stop you from comforting him. So, you grabbed him with what little strength you could muster, and you pulled his face to yours, pressing your mouths together, making him taste your blood from where he had cut your cheek against your teeth. He yanked his head back, furrowing his brow,

“No, stop…”

“Shut up,” you said, kissing him again and feeling his surrender as he held you tighter, pulling you into his chest even though he was ridden with guilt. 

“We shouldn’t, love. I’m so sor–”

“Where’d you put that gag?” You pretended to look around for it, earning a slight smile and an exasperated huff.

You knew you’d made the cut, because when he fucked you this time, he didn’t hold back.

Whelp. Kinktober!

[dickgraysonisnothereforthis]

Jason Todd x gn mean!reader

I love you mean!reader take jason by the balls like he deserves

(Short, fluff, established relationship)

Swearing, no use of y/n

———

“Shit.” The knife slips off the onion yet again and Jason feels like driving it into the countertop. Instead, he takes another go at the onion and almost nicks his finger.

He throws the knife onto the cutting board with a clatter. This is so fucking stupid. Jason is exhausted and starving and at his wit’s end. All he wants is to make himself some pasta, why can’t he cut this goddamn onion?

It isn’t helping that he came home pissed to begin with. The night was a complete waste of his time. He’s spent weeks sniffing around for one of Bane’s weapons shipments and finally tracked it down to a warehouse on the south side. Jason had got himself all gussied up to go in guns blazing, but he kicked in the door of an empty warehouse. They had already cleared the fuck out, they were one step ahead of him. It was so goddamn embarrassing, all he could do was shuffle home in the rain and try not to picture how Bane was probably laughing at him.

And now even this onion is getting the best of him. Can’t Jason have anything?

He perks up as he hears the clank of your key in the lock. You’re home, thank god. He abandons the onion and goes to meet you at the door.

“Hey, babe.” Your cheeks are pink from the cold. Jason ignores your words and pulls you into his arms, jamming his face into your neck. Your hand comes up to card through his hair. “Huh. Rough night?”

He grunts, and you huff out a laugh. “Aw, poor baby.”

“It was so fucking stupid,” he mutters. “How was your work dinner?”

“Fine. Nothing to report. Drinks went on forever.” You slide your fingers under his shirt and pinch at his waist. “You eat yet?”

“Hm.” He bites lightly at your neck. You tug sharply at his hair. “C’mon, Jay, you have to eat.” You gently shove him aside so you can slip out of your coat and slip off your shoes.

“‘M trying to,” he sulks.

You raise your eyebrows. “Well, what does that mean?”

He sighs, gesturing toward the kitchen, and you go investigate. “Couldn’t cut the fucking onion,” he grumbles. It’s so annoying; normally he’s not a complete idiot in the kitchen, but tonight his skills are failing him.

“Ah,” you say as you approach the cutting board. “Well, unfortunately, you’ve done it wrong.” You take his place at the countertop. Grabbing the knife, you hold it to the onion but then stop, turning to squint at him. “You want me to do it?”

Jason looks at you blankly. You nod. “You want me to show you how to do it or just do it?”

He smiles ruefully. “Good.” You start slicing. “Didn’t want to teach you anything, anyway.”

Jason sighs contentedly, putting his arms around your waist and leaning into your back. Your work steadily for a few minutes, before nudging him with your shoulder. “What were you going to put in the sauce?”

“Garlic,” Jason shrugs. “Onion.”

“Hm. It would be better with cherry tomatoes. And white wine.”

“Mm.”

“Go get the tomatoes. And the wine from the fridge,” you order. Jason blows meaningfully at your neck. “Please,” you add.

Jason knocks his head lightly against yours, then goes to get the requested ingredients. Soon, you’re frying up the onions, garlic, and tomatoes, pouring in some white wine, and setting some water to boil. Jason half-heartedly offers to help, but you take one look at him and wave him off. Fifteen minutes later you’re handing him a fork and sliding a bowl of pasta his way.

He digs in hastily. “Thanks, babe.”

You smile in satisfaction, stealing his fork to take a bite. “Hm. Pretty good.”

Jason wolfs it down before getting up for seconds. He grins at you, and you smile softly back. “Fuckin’ delicious.”

“Damn right. I’m gonna shower.” You move toward the bedroom, pulling your shirt over head. Jason gets momentarily distracted by your bare skin.

“Tsk.” He glances at your face, you’re smirking at him. “Eyes up here, big guy.”

“Can’t blame me for lookin’, sweetheart.” Jason smiles cockily at you, and you roll your eyes.

“Finish your dinner.” You turn back to the bathroom.

He picks up his fork. “I’m cleaning up,” he offers.

“You bet you are.” Jason grins cheekily, and you disappear into the bathroom.

———

He needs to be bullied.