#but interests never leave your ass and come back at the right time for your brain. woah
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cvnntagious · 2 days ago
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early morning sex with babydaddy!matt after he “accidentally” ended up in your bed last night 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
:: brat!reader often wakes up to babydaddy!matt in her bed
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arms slithered around you as you were coaxed out of your sleepy state, the sound of someone whispering in your ear with desperation and something hard pressing against your butt causing you to let out a confused groan. you were still tired from last night's activities, body a bit achy and sore.
that's when you heard a small whimper from behind you, causing your head to turn and your eyes to meet his. matt practically pouted, drinking in your beauty in your half-asleep state. "baby i need you," he rasped, practically grinding his bulge against your ass.
"m'tired..." you whispered, struggling to keep your heavy lids lifted as you yawned.
a small smile tugged at matt's plump lips, flipping the you both over gently so he was now hoovering over you. "lemme do the work then," he insisted, hand moving to lift the big t-shirt you'd fallen asleep in, exposing your bare pussy to him. he was just happy you'd decided you were too tired to put all your clothes back on last night, making it easier on him now.
your hand caught his wrist, head shaking slowly. "sore," you started, feeling the light cramping around your entrance, "and mazzy's in the next room."
matt chuckled, admiring how straightforward you were with him. his hand pulled back from you, moving to stroke himself for even just the slightest bit of relief. "we'll try something else then, yeah?" he asked, positioning his length abover your folds before looking to you for approval, "this okay?"
with a hesitant nod, your eyes closed, trusting that matt would never do anything to hurt you. he was ecstatic, rubbing his leaking tip along your wet folds to tease you (and him, really) almost immediately. a soft whimper escaped your lips when his cockhead ran over your puffy clit, causing matt's soft grin to widen.
your eyes remained closed, leaving matt in full control. "keep it quiet, m'kay?" he ordered in a sweet tone, moving his dick meticulously to spread your folds. he hoovered his thumb over his long shaft, keeping it in place as he began thrusting between your folds. when your eyes opened again and your jaw went slack at the newfound friction against your sensitive nerves, matt nee he was at least doing something right for you. "yeah— yeahh, s'kinda new, huh? y'like it?"
instantly, you nodded, unable to deny the immense pleasure washing over you at such a simple action. it was embarrassing, really, for both of you; the way you guys found such satisfaction without even barely doing anything. matt felt his orgasm coming on already, grunts escaping his lips with each slow stroke between your sopping folds.
it was like the soreness surrounding your cunt has completely disappeared, and suddenly you felt the urge to beg matt to fuck you... the right way. this was great, yeah, but you needed more. you needed to feel him deep inside you. your mouth opened to tell him just that—
"mommy," you heard a whine from the other room. matt immediately stopped with a small sigh, too afraid to continue on at the thought of ignoring mazzy and risking her hearing.
"let me fuck you later... please," matt whispered as he hopped off of you, immediately searching your room for his clothes.
°
[p!link]
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w/c : ?
a/n : i changed the ask a little to make it slightly more interesting imo, and sorry that this's a bit rushed :( i don't have much time to write rn but i wanted to answer this for you. divider by @issysh3ll
taglist : @chrissexygf @mattsnumberonehoe @m4ttsmunch @submattenthusiast @k4yd1 @strnilolover @bxtchboy69
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fleurvi · 21 hours ago
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Sick!S/O | Arcane Women
request for arcane women with a sick gf
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characters: ambessa, caitlyn, grayson, mel, sevika, vi
cw: fem!reader
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Ambessa Medarda
Ambessa doesn't really take care of you when you're sick. She's a warrior, not a doctor. But we're delusional here, so I'll go with it.
You are not allowed to lift a finger. You need to recover properly so she'll have guards around you at all times so you can order them to get things for you. She visits you regularly to check up on your health and make sure you're being doted on. In a rare occurrence, she offers you a massage to relax you.
“How are you feeling?” Ambessa asks, heavy hands working against your shoulders and neck. You nod, thanking her for her service. “Maybe a bath would do you good.”
✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Caitlyn Kiramman
Cait panics. She can't think rationally at all. You cough once, and she's writing a eulogy. When she's sure it's not super serious, she's diligent in her care. She makes sure you stay hydrated and get plenty of rest.
“What are you doing? You should be resting,” says Cait as she notices you getting out of bed.
“Babe, c'mon”
“No. Don't you ‘babe’ me. You should be taking care of yourself,” She fusses, ushering you back to your bed.
✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Grayson
Grayson believes that if you mope around In bed, you'll just make it worse. She lets you rest when you need it, but she encourages you just to take some painkillers, hydrate adequately and go about your work.
“Here you go,” Grayson says, handing you medication and water. “We've got a busy day. If it gets too much, just let me know, and I'll send you home to rest,” She says, pulling you into a hug and pressing a kiss to your forehead.
✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Mel Medarda
She just wants you to get better. Mel checks up on you but doesn't spend much time with you because she doesn't want to catch whatever you have. When she does visit you, she makes sure to ask if you're getting what you need and making sure you get it. She's mostly concerned about you resting, so she stays with you, talking softly with you until you fall asleep.
“Are you sure you're okay, my love?” She asks, running her hands over your back.
“Yeah, I think I need to sleep off. Thank you for coming to visit,” you say, closing your eyes.
“You're welcome, My Love”
✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Sevika
Sevika loves you, but she's not going to baby you. She'll ask you if you're on your deathbed, and if the answer is no, then you can get off your ass and help her with whatever business she's been called on.
If you want Sevika to help you with anything, you've got to turn on the whining. She likes being useful, so if you really need it, she'll sit with you until you fall asleep, but she won't wait for you to wake up. You're tough, like her, so she leaves you to it until you wake up and are ready to get back to work.
✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Vi
Vi thinks her immune system is “built different”, and she's not entirely wrong. She'll stay with you, hold you while you sleep, and make sure you eat as well as you can in Zaun. If you tell her you're not really hungry, she will lecture you until you give in and at least try to eat.
“C'mon, pretty girl,” Vi says, leaning in to kiss you. You feel gross and push her head away.
“You'll get sick”
“Babe. My immune system is made of steel. I've never gotten sick in my life. Now come here and give me a proper kiss,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“Fine. If you get sick, I'm not gonna baby you.”
“Yes, you will”, she laughs, and you know she's right.
•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•
Thank you for reading!
This was a request! My main interests right now are arcane and attack on titan so please keep dropping in my inbox!
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kimmkitsuragi · 4 days ago
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dang you really just choose one boy band and then that is Your Boy Band forever and ever huh
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lexcys · 10 days ago
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★ observing rafe cameron x reader
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summary: you were trying everything to hide the fact that you couldn’t stop staring at rafe, unbeknownst to you - he was secretly hoping you were
a/n: this is a surfer!rafe x shy!reader btw!! also this is like pretty much my first ever fanfic so I have no idea what the fuck I am doing so sorry if this is literal ass 😭 no mention of a fem!reader besides the fact that the womans bathroom gets entered
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you felt the heat of the sun on your skin as you stepped out of the twinkie. the soft crash of the distant waves barely audible over the hum of the pogues voices
stepping onto the beach, a surge of excitement hits you. the day you and the pogues have been counting down to all week has finally arrived
you take one final glance into your bag, double-checking for anything you might have forgotten—sunscreen, snacks, a book, and a few other trinkets, satisfied you make your way over to your usual spot ready to take off your tshirt and shorts which hid your swim wear underneath, until you spotted someone out of the corner of your eye
rafe cameron
somehow the kooks had managed to pick the exact same date, place and time to visit the beach as you and your friends
while the others were hastly running towards the water stripping on the way down, paying no attention to the kooks, kie stayed back waiting for you
she was already in her bikini while your clothes weren’t even close to leaving your body and landing on the ground
''you coming?'' she asked, hand on her forehead shielding her from the burning sun
''umm'', taking a quick glance around you searched the beach in a, hopefully, unsuspicious way trying to locate rafe again
glancing down you turned your gaze elsewhere, you hoped the sudden heat entering your body was from the sun and not from the sight of rafe taking his shirt off
''I’ll join you guys later, I’m a little dizzy right now'', you spoke swiftly looking up at her, hoping to not get caught in the little white lie
all though kie nodded, the flicker of confusion in her eyes and a quick look behind you told you all you needed to know
you had never verbally stated your attraction to the him but you were pretty sure almost anybody could’ve guessed with the way you tensed up or seemed quieter and clumsier whenever he was in close proximity
taking off your top and shorts you shot a look over to the pogues who were already splashing and practically drowning each other. you giggled while settling down onto your beach towel before applying sunscreen and laying down on your stomach with a book in hand
even though your book was very interesting, the sight in front of you was much more enticing
rafe was currently riding a pretty common wave, yet you found yourself unable to stop staring
you adjusted your book hoping to hide the fact that you were practically ogling at the cameron boy
he was far enough out that you couldn’t make out the details but you still caught the way his hair stuck to his face, the way his body twisted with the rythm of the wave and the way he… kept turning his head towards you?
it seemed like he was looking for you, looking to see if you were watching him
cheeks burning, you try to push your delusions aside trying to find the passage you were reading earlier
you take another peek at him and by the the time you do, he was already out of the water, walking towards his friends with the biggest fucking grin, beaming with pride and confidence, already seeming to rave about the wave he just rode
hearing jj’s laugh you swiftly adjust and pretend to be reading your book that was definitely more interesting than staring at rafe’s wet body and stupid grin
while jj kept whining about how john b, supposedly, almost drowned him they both settled down on your left, luckily on the side where the kooks were lounging
fortunately he also kept talking which meant you were able to peep right past his face and steal short glances towards rafe
it was almost impossible for you to keep your eyes off of him. it didn’t matter where you would see him, you were always stealing glances or simply staring at him from a distance. others could call this stalking but you liked to call it observing, you liked watching him, but not in a creepy way, more so you were admiring him, he was pretty
you liked his side profile, the way his bangs framed his face, the way his eyes looked in the sun, the way his shirts hung onto his fit body - you noticed the way he was very articulate with his hands, which were always adorned with the same two rings, the way the corner of his lips turned downwards whenever he tried not to smile
noticing him facing you, eyeing your group, the staring quickly stopped
at this point the distance between the two groups was too small for your liking because of course the kooks had to settle down as closely as possible to the pogues - it was somehow impossible for them to keep their distance
given the short distance, whenever you actually were brave enough to look again it seemed like he was meeting your gaze, trying to maintain eye contact
heart beating way too fast and cheeks burning, you turn away from jj trying to initiate a conversation with sarah, who was sitting on your right
after a while of, luckily, managing to keep your head from spinning towards him, to meet his gaze - aside from the occasional looks to jj or john b whenever they were contributing to the conversation - you were desperate to get up, to empty your bladder
you dreaded getting up, fully aware that the beach bar was situated just behind the kooks, it meant walking past rafe and the mere thought of that unnerved you - every step would make you acutely aware of your surroundings, mind racing, until the very thought of moving felt like it might turn your legs into jelly
examining the scene quickly you notice half of the kooks gone, including rafe, they must’ve left when you weren’t looking - you feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders while also immediately feeling a certain misery overtaking you
this unrequited crush was spiraling out of control
strutting over to the bar you take notice of ruthie with another girl sitting at one of the tables and kelce talking to the bartender seeming to be cracking jokes instead of ordering
walking past them you try to keep your gaze relatively low to avoid any sort of interaction. turning into the small hallway of the bar you exhale a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding
the calmness doesn’t last long because as you round the corner to reach the toilets you spot him, standing in front of the mens bathroom, phone in hand and looking quite bored
before you get the chance to look away he lifts his head and notices you, he smiles - you smile back, a very awkward smile
relatively quickly you turn your head away and enter the women’s bathroom. your head becoming a blur, suddenly already washing your hands ready to leave the bathroom
he must’ve left already, right?
''topper are you fucking coming, man?!'', you catch rafe through the door
your plan of immediately leaving and paying him no mind, began to falter two seconds after stepping out of the bathroom
''hey, y/n'', you hear from behind you, shit
you freeze up for a second, caught off guard, before composing yourself and turning around
immediately drawn to him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his hair had dried in quite a messy way, his slightly squinted eyes and the slight smirk splayed across his face
''how are you?'' he questions before you had the chance to greet him back
''I’m doing fine'', you manage to exclaim, nearly tripping over your words before adding the usual ''and you?''
you dig in your mind trying to recall the last time you’d exchanged words beyond the usual "hi" or "hey''
''ditto'',
apparently not completely satisified with your answer, he regards you for a moment, the stare causing a warmth to creep up your neck as you shifted uneasily
''why did your friends leave you all alone over there?'', rafe inquired with a raised brow - a hint of curiosity in his tone, ''they seemed to be enjoying themeselves''
letting out a soft exhale you answer him, attempting to maintain eye contact but faltering almost immediately, ''I wasn’t feeling so good'' was all you manage to muster before adding the word, ''dizzy'' in a rather whispered voice, as you lied through your teeth, hoping he wouldn’t see through it
if he did, he didn’t let on ''are you feeling better now?’'
you nod quickly, meeting his gaze
looking up at him with those almost innocent eyes, he can’t help but offer, ''are you sure? I can get you a glass of water'', an unrecognisable sweetness laced his voice, softening his usual edge
taken aback by his unexpected offer you hesitate before denying his offer by simply shaking your head
he let out a quiet snort, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched you struggle to give a simple answer
''what book were you reading?'', he asked, his smirk widening as he leaned further back into the wall, clearly amused at the way the conversation was turning into a playful interrogation, as if he found some strange satisfaction in making you squirm just a little bit
you froze, your mind going blank, searching for the title before realising you genuinely couldn’t remember, maybe because you weren’t actually reading the book
like a savior, topper emerged from the bathroom, a flicker of confusion passing across his face as he scanned the scene before moving past you both, muttering a quiet "let’s go," clearly directed at rafe
for a split second, it looked like frustration crossed rafe’s face, fleeting before you could overthink it, flashing you a smile he pushed himself off the wall and made his way past you
but before he completely disappeared out of view, he turned back with a smirk and called over his shoulder,
''hope you enjoyed the show earlier''
oh
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eupheme · 3 months ago
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— sharing is caring
[part ii of come on and show me | masterlist]
logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson
rated e - 4k
tags: MMF threesome, jealous!reader, reader is wade's girl, mutual pining/crushes all around, dirty talk, open relationship, eiffel tower, oral sex, piv, shared blow job, one affectionate use of the word slutty, reader has her hair tugged, light wade degradation, come sharing/swapping, praise kink
It’s stupid how much a crush can affect you after everything, but Logan has a way of turning both of you into schoolgirls.
You’ve each had the flickers of feelings before, but it’s never been like the express train that is one Logan Howlett, unexpectedly crashing into your station. Neither one of you had stood a chance.
(or - you’re both eager to spend time with Logan again)
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The party is in full-swing. Plastic cups full of NOS and liquor - a crumpled up, passed around piece of paper, filled with scribbled-down drinking games.
It’s week two of Wade’s ‘Friday Night Yikes: an Analysis of Films Unfairly Nominated for the Razzies’ - or, movie night, to keep it simple.
A buzz of conversation during the intermission between the third and the fourth Fast & Furious movies, as you worked your way to Fast X.
It’s your first time being back at the apartment since your shared morning together. A busy past couple days - work schedules always just out of sync.
Wade coming to you one of those nights after you got off late - quiet, midnight murmurings filled with interest and hope, a conclusion that both of you on the same page.
Leaving you to wonder if he would be, as well.
You’ve felt the weight of Logan’s gaze throughout the night. Dropping when you glance his way, busying himself with his drink, passing around the bowl of chips or popcorn.
Trapped between Colossus and Peter - the seating in the small apartment is already limited. You've been perched on Wade's lap for the last hour, legs kicked over the side of an armchair as your head rests against his shoulder. A smile, with the rumble of laughter under your ear. The fingers that curl around your waist, fingers brushing.
But you know his gaze drifts across the room as well.
Catching the tail end of a conversation, Logan's beer tipped back as Piotr swipes through a phone that looks toy-sized in his hand.
"-be lonely in an apartment like this. I could help you find a nice girl."
It's not the first time this conversation has risen, but it's the first time it's made you go tense in Wade's arms.
"You don't want this hunk of metal helping you," Wade jumps in, "I got just the guy. Hope you like scars, because good news-"
Even as your elbow digs into his ribs, he doesn't budge.
“Right.” Logan scoffs, interrupting, “As if I was into loud-ass, scar-covered, bald assholes. You wish, Wilson.”
It doesn’t hold the same animosity it would’ve a week ago. There’s a muffled “fuck” breathed in your ear, the tilt of hips that lift beneath you.
“Nothing wrong with a bald asshole. Preferable, sometimes.” Wade smirks with a wink, “Come on Logi Bear, we can’t let a handsome young man like you become a spinster. What’s your type?”
Only now do Logan's eyes meet yours, holding your gaze as he answers.
"Don't have one."
It makes you inhale a breath, a little jolt in your belly.
'You have already got a girl, Wade. That is my point," Piotr frowns. A hum of interest as he shows Logan his phone, "What about Domino? You remember her, right?"
Peter leans from the other side, "Wade, you were supposed to give her my number."
"She has it." Piotr brushes him off, as Peter looks crushed. There’s a ping from Logan’s pocket - the information sent over.
Always getting lucky. You like Domino, quite a bit actually, but the thought sends a fresh wave of oozing green jealousy washing over you.
Logan huffs, a shift as his legs stretch out - the hint of a smirk, as he deflects, “How do you know me and Althea haven't been getting cozy?”
There’s a derisive snort from the armchair to your right.
“You wish you could handle me, motherfucker.”
There a chorus of laughter, Wade’s voice ringing out.
“Was that a joke?” It pitches up, as if he can’t believe it, “You're getting soft, maybe you are getting laid.”
As is he hadn’t been gargling Logan’s balls just a few days before. Coming so hard with his roommate’s fist around his cock, that he saw stars.
The look Logan shoots his way is unreadable. A lazy roll of his eyes, before his head tips towards the television.
“Just start the goddamn movie, dumbass.”
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You slip from Wade’s lap when Logan peels from the couch to grab another beer. The chip bowl scooped up off the table - can’t be running out, not when there’s another hour still left to go.
A moment as you linger, watching as the fridge light illuminates his face. The silhouette of his features, the sharp cut of his facial hair flecked with grey - before he’s catching you, an eyebrow cocked.
You make a show of rounding the fridge, stepping into the narrow pantry. Hoping that he follows.
He doesn’t let you down.
“You’re not gonna call her, are you?”
It’s not what you mean to ask him, even if it’s certainly what you’ve been thinking about - the conversation a lead weight in your belly.
There’s a beat, as his eyebrow lifts. The peek of the tip of his tongue, running across a canine.
“I might,” He drawls, an arm bracing on the shelves, filling the doorway, “Gonna try to convince me not to, sweetheart?”
That jolt inside you plummets, until you see the curl of his lips. How there’s a dark heat that simmers in his eyes, as they drop to your mouth.
Teasing. Logan is teasing you.
You step into him. A hand curling around the back of his neck, his sharp intake of breath just audible before your mouth tips up to his.
It only lasts as long as a heartbeat, but you can still feel the hunger.
How his hands curve around your waist, dipping to cup against your ass. Tugging you flush as he licks into your mouth, leaving you panting when you pull away.
You can’t get too caught up. Not with your friends just across the room, this tenuous connection still taking shape between you.
“Come stay with us tonight.” It’s quiet, as his lips brush yours again, “We’ll take care of you.”
Logan’s eyes open, his voice a low rasp.
“Thought it was a one-time thing.”
You can’t bite back your smile, “Mm, think it was at least a three-time thing, if I’m remembering right.”
And there’s still his words, echoing in your mind, when it wanders. “Our girl.” If it had been possible to come from that alone, you just might have.
He huffs, and your voice softens.
“But no. Not if you don’t want it to be.”
The look he gives you is searching.
“Wade put you up to this?”
You lean against the shelves, arms crossing, “Wade has been half-hard all night, thanks to you. He feels the same, hasn’t been able to stop looking at you.”
His tongue pokes against his cheek.
“I’ve noticed. You two are not subtle.”
Heat licks at your cheeks, as your eyes drop. It’s stupid how much a crush can affect you after everything, but Logan has a way of turning both of you into schoolgirls.
You’ve each had the flickers of feelings before, but it’s never been like the express train that is one Logan Howlett, unexpectedly crashing into your station.
Neither one of you had stood a chance.
“I’m sorry.”
You try to move away from him, but there’s no where to go. His hand reaches out, even as his eyes shift away - settling somewhere next to your ear as his own pinken.
“Don’t be. It’s… uh,” There’s a lift of his shoulder, as he searches for a word, “Nice. Been a long time.”
“I find that hard to believe.” You smile, head tilting, “So… maybe just think about it?”
There’s the sound of a cinematic explosion behind you - layered laughter pulling you out of the moment.
Logan leans close. A held breath, before he grabs the bag of chips off the shelf - dropping them into your bowl as he takes a step back.
Just as aware as you are of the time that has passed.
“Yeah, sweetheart.” He purrs, “I’ll think about it.”
There’s a low murmur in your ear, when you slip onto Wade’s lap a few minutes later. Stalling as you refilled, waiting for Logan to settle in before you went back.
You can feel him now, the considerably-more-pronounced ridge that presses into the curve of your ass. The hand that settles almost possessively just beneath your breasts, splaying wide.
“You’re so hot when you’re jealous.” Wade rasps in your ear, a press of his lips against your neck.
This time when your elbow digs into his side, he laughs.
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“Hello gorgeous,” Wade coos, “I’ve missed you.”
Logan shifts, scowling, “I live with you.”
There’s a sigh from behind you, as you settle between Logan’s thighs. It’s late now - the movie eventually winding to an end.
Tension stringing tight in your belly, that warm weight as everyone bid goodbyes. Al conked out on her recliner after ten minutes into the second movie, something that Wade may or may not have planned.
Making for Wade’s room - starting where you left off in the kitchen. Clothed peeled off with the wandering of mouth and hands, bared by the time the door kicks shut behind you.
Your palm pressing against his chest as he settles back against the headboard - you and Wade fitting yourselves onto the bed alongside him.
Even though you’ve seen him before, he’s still a sight to behold - all thick muscles and hair-dusted skin - something you’re still taking in.
“Not you,” Wade clarifies - a hand smoothing down your back.
Your thighs press together, squirming already, as his hips settle just shy of the soft curve of your ass. A shift, as he gets comfortable - the weight of his stiff cock dipping against your skin.
“I’m talking to king dong right here.”
There’s a rough scoff, “Don’t talk to my dick, Wilson.”
“Well someone has to. He told me he’s lonely, poor thing. Always what you doing, not how you doing. Isn’t that right, big guy?”
“Alright,” Logan scowls, a hand bracing on the headboard as he lifts up, “I’m out of-”
He chokes on the sound, as your tongue peeks out to lap at his shaft.
It’s pretty - flushed at the tip, as it rests against his thigh. A thickening twitch as you kiss along his hard length, down to the dark, wiry hair - a hushed groan as he sags back into place.
“Didn’t get to taste you last time.” You murmur, fingers wrapping around the base, “Been thinking about this.”
Stroking against skin, as you take him into your mouth. A soft moan in your throat, as he fills you - the tip skating across your tongue.
“‘s right,” Wade comments, with another roll of his hips. Thumb pressing against the tip, angling him down to tease as your entrance, “Gotta level the playing field, gorgeous.”
A glance up at Logan, eyes narrowing as he smirks.
“We’re totally pussy pals now, bee tee dubs. Both opened the gates of Mordor. Took ole one-eye to the same optometrist.”
The annoyed groan you make turns soft, as he starts a lazy rhythm with his hips. Knowing how to wind you up - skating his length against your slit, as try to take another inch down your throat. Cheeks hollowing as you suck, tongue tracing the underside of his tip.
“Counting down the days until we’re cock comrades,” He adds, with a friendly pat against your ass - before he sends Logan a wink, “But I’m willing to wait for marriage. Know you’re old-school, peanut.”
There’s a pull of Logan’s brow. A scowl, as he shifts - the movement nudging him deeper into your mouth. Distracting him from the sharp retort as you moan, the sound buzzing against his cock.
He meets your eyes, half-lidded. A hand coming to cup your jaw, urge you to take just a little more.
“Cold day in hell before that happens.”
It’s gritted out, half-hearted as your head bobs. A slow stroke of your fist across spit-slick skin - his hips lifting, chasing you.
“I dunno,” Wade coos. Eyes dropping down to the leaking tip of his cock. His thumb pressing against the curve of your ass - tugging you open so he can watch how he sinks into you.
“I have a way of making people beg.”
You whimper, as he inches into you. Mouth full, spit pooling on your tongue. It almost overwhelming, to be between them like this.
The pleasurable warmth that loops through you, your eyes sliding shut. Leading into Logan’s touch as Wade splits you open, leaving you squirming.
There’s a shift, as his hands slip to flatten against the mattress. A smooth drag as he surges forward - hilting himself with a final roll of his hips.
It makes you gasp, even with how slick you are. Clenching down around the cock that fills you - eagerness flickering in your belly, as you life your hips to take him deeper.
“Fuck, baby. So fucking tight.” Wade moans appreciatively. Slipping half-way out, only to watch how your ass sways when he fills you again, “Gonna turn my dick into a goddamn diamond. Emma Frost this shit.”
Another thrust sending you forward. A rhythm starting - sinking back onto Wade’s cock when to rock back, your throat relaxing when you take Logan further.
Your jaw has to open wide take him. There’s a throb against your tongue as he nudges at your throat. A rattling gasp when you’re shifting back again.
“Feels good, sweetheart,” Logan coos - his hands curving around your throat, fingertips at the base of your neck, “Think you can take more?”
The praise stokes the fire in your belly. Eyes wide as you nod - Wade slowing as you angle your head.
“Oh yeah, she can.” Wade purrs.
Watching as you try to take more, until your nose is brushing the coarse hairs at his base. The air burning in your lungs as you hold your breath.
A gasp, when you pull off him. Leaving you to kiss and suck at his tip, lips slick with spit.
You ache for them - your other hand wedging between your hips and the mattress. A whine when your fingers circle, slipping against slick skin.
It sends your nerves alight, with the way Wade grinds himself into you. His cock dragging against your walls, nudging against a sensitive spot inside you - you can feel your thoughts starting to go hazy.
“You think she gets wet from kissing? Fuck, you should feel her now.” There’s a rough thrust, the slap of skin against skin.
There’s a pressure against your back, as Wade dips down. His chest pressing against your shoulders - caging you in as his cheek nudges against yours.
A kiss dropped against your shoulder.
“You get a little slutty with a dick in your mouth, baby?” His voice goes soft and low - teasing.
“That’s okay, I do too.”
His words make you moan. He’s deeper like this, filling you with shallow thrusts. A hand tucking beneath you, cupping a breast.
A rough groan in your ear, “Makes me wonder… why am I letting you have all the fun?”
Logan’s hips lift on their own accord. A bitten-back sound, trapped in throat as you register what he means.
Your head angling to make room for your boyfriend, lips trailing down to press against his base. A tilt of your fist, holding Logan’s cock for him steady as you smile.
“Room for two, honey.”
There’s the twitch of Logan’s hands against your skin, his grip tightening in your hair. His eyes dark when you glance up at him. A heave to his chest, lips parted as the tip of his cock slips past Wade’s lips.
“Fuck.” It’s gritted out.
His hand leaves your neck to hook against Wade’s shoulder, fingers pinching into skin. A muffled sound caught in his throat, as Wade pulls off him and grins.
Twin kisses pressed against his shaft. You travel up this time, tongue tracing over the thick vein. Logan’s jaw clenching, teeth grinding together.
“Don’t hold back on us, daddy long leg.” Wade hums, smirking, “As if you didn’t cream your panties the last time I did this.”
A drag of his tongue against Logan’s sack, and the moan loosens. Words coming with it, the next time you trade - kisses pressed against the seam, as Wade takes the shaft into his throat.
“Oh shit,” It’s panted out, “That’s it, put that fucking mouth to good use.”
There’s a groan, with the bob of his head. Your own lifts as you watch, a soft hum as you kiss his throat. Watching the way his eyes flutter shut, brow pinching as he tries to take him further.
“You’re not used to something this big, are you baby?” You coo, “Gonna need some help?”
“Fuck.” Wade laughs, as he pulls off him - the sound strangled, as the rock of his hips goes sloppy, “Teaming up me. Don’t bully me, I’ll-”
He moans, when Logan’s hand presses on the back of his head, urging him back down. Your teeth sinking into your lip as you grin - a kiss pressed against Wade’s cheek, then chin.
A shift, until the tip slips from his mouth, and then you’re sharing it - messy, spit-slick lips against skin. Open-mouthed, tasting him, tasting Logan, as you rock back to meet his thrusts.
“Fuck, I dreamed about this.” It slips from Logan. Hushed, you almost miss it in the hazy swirls of your mind.
It shoots through you, straight to your clit. Your efforts doubled - you like how messy it is, the brush of his tongue against yours. The hand between your thighs bracing on the mattress instead so you can twist further, the other pulling his mouth to fully meet yours.
There’s a ragged moan, as Wade’s body goes taut. His face burying in your shoulder as he ruts into you - two more shallow thrusts before he’s spilling with a rough moan inside.
Grinding against you, pumping himself into your tight warmth until the throbbing pulse of his cock ebbs. Until you’ve milked him empty, his come painting your walls.
“It’s too much,” Wade gasps, lips curling up at the edges. Teeth nipping at your skin, “You two are gonna kill me-”
Logan huffs - eyes dark, “If fucking you to death was an option, our fight would’ve gone a lot differently.”
“Look at you,” It’s wheezed against your skin, an eye cracking open, “Another joke.”
Logan hums, more amusement than annoyance. A hand slipping from Wade’s shoulder, wrapping around his base. A slow squeeze in front of you, as your eyes widen.
“Supposed to be taking care of you.” Your smile is sheepish, “Sorry, Logan.”
Too caught up in sharing him - the weight against your tongue, how the tip slipped between pressed-together lips - to concentrate on your goal.
“You are.” It comes out rough - another squeeze. Angling it down, tapping the tip against your tongue when your mouth opens.
“Know you want a taste baby, but I’m not coming ‘til you do.”
You groan, as you suck him. As he feeds his cock to you, still stroking at the base. Feeling empty when Wade eases from you, hands at your hips - coaxing you to your knees for him.
“Human centipede, got it.” Wade grins - kissing down your back. Teeth sinking into the curve of your ass, as you hiss, “Better save some for me, gorgeous. Sharing is caring.”
You jolt, when his mouth presses against you.
Practiced swirls of his tongue, fingers that replace his cock. The needy rut of him inside you has been edging you since he started - and as you watch the way Logan watches both of you, it’s not long before you feel that tell-tale twist inside you, that pressure that winds tight.
Logan growls - all rasping voice and pinched brow. His lips parted, thighs inching wider as you let you hands wander across the thick muscles of his thighs.
Tracing over his fingers and lower, cupping him. A sharp hiss - his fist squeezing at his base, holding himself back.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let me give you what you want.”
It’s as close as you’ve heard to begging. A moan as the fingers curl and sink inside you. Teasing swipe of a tongue, dipping down to press against your hole. Panting breaths turning into whimpers, as Logan’s cock brushes over your lips.
“Please,” You whine, rocking back, “I want it, Logan. Wanna come-”
Wade’s lips close around your clit, and with the pound of his fingers, that string inside you snaps. Pleasure arcs through you, crackling up your spine.
Eyes half-lidded as you moan, the plunge of his fingers drawing out your orgasm. Muscles tensing as he teases at the sensitive bud - sharp, pointed licks that leave your toes curling.
Logan’s fist moves faster, as he watches you come undone in front of him. A hand curving around your chin to keep it in place - a thumb hooking around your teeth to keep your lips parted.
“Good fuckin’ girl, that’s it.” Logan growls, “Open your mouth for me, there you go.”
You open wider, just in time to catch the ropes of come that spill across your tongue. Taking him into your mouth, tongue lapping at the sensitive head as Logan moans. His fist working himself empty into your mouth, pulsing against your tongue.
“Can’t believe I’m saying this,” Wade’s hands press against your hips as he shifts beside you, “But don’t you fucking swallow.”
His hands joining Logan’s, tilting your head to mouth to the side - thumbing at your lip.
“Open.” Wade grits out - a sharp hiss when he sees how you hold it on your tongue, just before his mouth presses to yours.
Something thrumming in your belly, as he licks into your mouth. You’ve never shared anything quite like this before - the heady mix against your tongue. The moan that slides from you, echoing with the buzz in Wade’s throat.
The look of hunger in Logan’s eyes, when the kiss breaks. Lips glossy with your messy kiss, as his hands close around your biceps. It’s easy, with his strength, to tug you up until you’re straddling him.
His half-hard cock trapped against his slick core as he pulls you close. You laugh as your knees press into the mattress, a hand braced on his chest.
“Okay,” You hum, eyes dragging down, “This time, you lay back. Let me take care of everything.”
The murmured “fuck” against your lips, before his mouth presses to yours. Hips canting upward, seeking your heat.
And if you were a betting girl…
You’d bet this wasn’t a two-time thing, either.
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Wade stretches out, cat-like. A matching lazy grin, as he peers out of one eye up at Logan, using a thigh like a pillow.
“Never thought I’d visit Paris,” He sighs, “Much less twice in one night. Good thing I’d been saving those frequent flyer miles.”
A yawn, muffled with the back of his hand, “Though I guess it’s not your first time though. Eh, Valjean?”
Logan grunts, the sound buzzing beneath your ear, where you head cradles against his chest. Muscles still burning from riding him, until his hands had hooked under your thighs to help.
Your leg stretches out now as you doze - boneless - hooking around his other thigh, as his fingers trace patterns on your skin.
“And don’t you think I didn’t hear that you dreamed about this,” Wade props himself up on an elbow - never one to let a comfortable silence linger.
A finger reaching out to poke his roommate in the ribs, “You catching feelings, peanut?”
Logan’s eyes roll, as he bats the hand away - nudging you to the side so he can ease carefully out from under you.
“Don’t ruin it.”
Swinging his legs around until he can push himself up - his ear to the door for a heartbeat until it’s swinging open.
“You’re coming back, right?” You ask, groggy - the words murmured out into the dim room.
His head turns, glancing back as he turns. You can catch the way his eyes soften, a thumb hitched over a shoulder toward the bathroom.
“Yeah, sweetheart.” He rasps, “Just grabbing somethin’ to clean you up.”
“I’ll be right back.”
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thanks for reading! 💖 I have three more nights I’ve been wanting to explore with them (next one being the old dp with dp+w), so hopefully will have that up soon!
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downhillrepose · 1 month ago
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an old love
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overview : father charlie mayhew reunites with an old lover he was head over heels for before he began his journey into priesthood.
pairing : father charlie mayhew x fem!reader
word count : 1152 (and it’s still ASS)
a/n : this is my first fic so please excuse.. everything… while i try to figure it all out! xx
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it was an early sunday evening when father mayhew was interrupted while planning his next sermon. the doors to the church pushed open, the loud hinges and heaviness of the door stirring him from his concentration.
father mayhew looked up from his altar to the entrance of the church, not necessarily surprised to have someone else join him in the holy place, but startled nonetheless by the sudden intrusion.
a frazzled young woman stumbled in, her wide eyes looking around to the tall pristine ceilings and stained glass windows before settling on father mayhew’s tall figure on the stage.
though a sin, father charlie swore his heart stopped beating when his eyes finally settled on the woman in his church. could it really be? no… no, it’s not possible.
“charlie?”
charlie’s eyes widened beyond belief, definitely sure this time that his heart stopped beating. “Y/N..? is that.. you?” his voice was breathless, rough with disbelief.
“oh, charlie,” you beamed, quick steps scurrying over to the altar, stopping short before the steps. “i’m so glad to see you..” your eyes raked over his attire, “oh! i’m sorry, father charlie.”
frozen, charlie just stared at you before he somehow got the courage to say something. “Y/N.. what are you doing here? it’s been..” he trailed off, not wanting to say how long it had been since he’d seen the woman he fell in love with.
“forever?” you finished for him,
“yea, forever,” he gulped, slowly moving from behind the altar to descend the steps. his eyes never left your frame.
your gaze followed him as he made his way toward you. the closer he got, the faster his heart beat. is it about to come up his throat?
“i’m sorry to barge in on you like this it’s just that i got word that you were here and had to see for myself,” you softly smiled. how are you smiling right now? how are you not in complete and utter pain like he is?
charlie just blinked, finally in front of you now.
“right, i have to explain myself, god, oh! GOSH,” you corrected yourself, hand over your mouth. “i’m so sorry, i’m an idiot.”
this finally made charlie’s face lighten up, you hadn’t changed at all. “it’s okay, Y/N, really,” he felt his lips tug upward. you were still the cutest thing in the entire world.
you just blushed, embarrassed. “i.. i just finished my degree abroad, you know...? anyway, when i got back home my dad said that you were a priest now and i… well, i had to see you. couldn’t believe it.”
charlie raised a brow, “how come?”
you clasped your hands in front of you, “nothing, really, i just always envisioned you to be out of this old little town.. traveling.. doing whatever your heart desired. like you said you would…” your gaze flicked to the floor, your shoes suddenly very interesting.
charlie hummed, “no, i couldn’t leave this place.. trust me, i tried.” charlie’s gaze suddenly turned to a dim one. a dark, glum cloud seemed to hover over his head.
you raised your head at that, eyes locking with charlie’s once more. you opened your mouth for a moment before abruptly closing it. you contemplated for a moment before forcing a smile on your face.
“well i’m just happy to see you, charlie” your eyes flickered over his face, almost as if you were trying to imprint the image of him in your mind so you would always have it.
charlie didn’t say anything at that. he opened his mouth just to close it, too. he shook his head slightly, hand coming to comb through his hair.
“are you sure?” he clenched his jaw.
your eyes widened at that, flinching at his brazenness. “of course i am, charlie..” your hand moved to his arm before hesitating, tucking your hands behind your back in tight fists.
charlie saw this, his jaw clenching even tighter, he was sure his teeth would fall out. “i’m sorry it’s just hard to believe when i’ve been here the whole time.”
“charlie..”
“no, Y/N, what are you doing here? really?” his tone became defensive, building a wall around his heart right in front of the woman who helped him tear it down all those years ago.
you didn’t say anything, eyes wide looking up at him.
“i never left, Y/N.. i never left…” his voice was barely above a whisper, eyes hardened in faux credence.
your lower lip quivered, looking away.
“i’m sorry.”
“for what? for abandoning us? or for never coming back?” charlie bit out. according to his beliefs, charlie should forgive, but something inside him still ached from when you left, it wasn’t that easy.
“everything, charlie.. everything.” your eyes were glistening with tears when you looked back into his. charlie’s heart sped up at the sight, hand itching to take your face in his palms.
as the first sob of yours was let out, charlie couldn’t stop himself, pulling you into his arms and into his warm chest.
“shh, shh, baby.. don’t cry.” his hand caressed the back of your head and neck, head coming to rest atop of yours.
your heart clenched in your chest. “i’m so sorry, charlie.” the words were slightly muffled against his chest, but he knew what you said.
palms coming to cup your cheeks, he wiped your tears with his thumbs, eyes locked on your red and watery ones. “shh, it’s okay..”
you shook your head, “no, it’s not.”
charlie’s eyes softened even more, if that was possible, “sweetheart… come here.” he brought you back into his arms for another embrace.
“missed you so much, charlie, i just.. i couldn’t face you after what happened. please. you knew i missed you, didn’t you?” you raised your face from his chest, neck craning up to look into his eyes.
“well, i do now…” his ring covered hand came to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “just wish you came back sooner.”
your eyebrows crinkled up again, “i know, i’m sorry i just thought you hated me and i couldn’t bring myself to face you.”
charlie brought his forehead to yours, “oh, sweetheart, i could never hate you..” his palm caressed your cheek. you leaned into his touch, releasing a heavy breath.
the two of you stayed like that for a while, the silence of the church engulfing you, making it seem as though you were the only people in the world.
charlie broke the silence first, eyes soft looking down at you, “what do you say we get something to eat? that diner is still open, and you can tell me everything..”
you softly smiled, sniffling, “i’d like that a lot.”
with your arm locked in charlie’s as he led you out the church doors, he realized something:
a million years could go by without seeing or hearing from you, but his connection and devotion to you will never falter. ever.
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so… that’s it! im so sorry the ending is so rushed and just. bad? im sure grammar and the present and past tense verbiage was annoying asf pls forgive me :,,) im new to writing (writing my own stories i mean) and am open to criticism! constructive pls..
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awearywritersworld · 10 months ago
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poker night — fushiguro toji x reader
warnings: unprotected sex. implied age gap. pet names (pretty girl/baby/sweet heart). "daddy". creampie. sub par writing.
mdni.
toji shows up early to poker night, an event your father hosts once every week, when he hears you're home after graduating from university.
he's exceptionally pleased when you answer the door in nothing more than a thin tank top and tiny pajama shorts, inviting him inside even though your father isn't home yet.
he makes himself comfortable on your living room couch, his broad frame and long legs taking up an impressive amount of space.
"so, you find yourself a boyfriend yet, pretty girl?"
your cheeks grow warm and you struggle to meet his eye. you've had a crush on toji for as long as you can remember, but he would never actually be interested in you... right?
"not yet," you answer, biting your bottom lip nervously. "most of the boys at school seem a little clueless when it comes to girls."
"that so?" he questions, eyes unabashedly trailing over your body. "maybe you should find yourself a man instead."
you're ashamed how quickly you wind up on your back, toji's cock greedily stretching out your pussy. really, it's almost pathetic— he didn't even have to work for it.
"f-feels s'good, daddy," you whimper, your hand clutching his bicep.
"oh, that's just wrong sweetheart," he chuckles, gripping your hips so harshly you're positive he'll leave marks. "you wan' me to be your daddy? hm?"
it is wrong. it's wrong and it's unforgivable and he loves it. why else would he be fucking you on the very same table he'll be sitting at tonight, playing poker with your father and their friends?
you nod weakly and his lips twist into a sly smirk.
lifting one of your legs over his shoulder, he uses the opportunity to land a smack to your ass. "words, baby."
"yes, ple—" you gasp sharply when he readjusts his angle, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing steady circles there.
"what was that? couldn't hear you."
"yes, toji! wanna be yours. please."
you don't have to ask him twice, not when your pretty little pussy is the best he's ever had. no one else even comes close.
his fingers thread through yours, an uncharacteristically soft gesture. "you are, sweetheart. all mine."
he feels you clench around him in response, and the sensation pulls an absolutely sinful noise from his throat.
you're so painfully close to your release that your eyes grow teary and your head lolls to the side.
"tch, i don't think so sweet girl," he chides, grabbing your chin roughly and turning your gaze back to him. "wanna see that pretty face while i fuck you."
you cum on his cock four times before he's decided you've had enough. he makes you beg him to fill you up, even though there's nothing he wants more than to see his cum spill from your cute little hole.
the two of you fall into a simple routine after that afternoon and for three whole months, no one has any idea that you spend most of your nights wrapped around toji's cock.
that is, until you interrupt poker night when the men sitting around the table have all had one too many drinks.
"hey, daddy?" you question, planning to ask your father if he knows where your mother is.
but before he has a chance to reply, toji speaks up. "yes, baby?"
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alnilaem · 7 months ago
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cw for kidnapping and emotional manipulation
-
Ghost spots a bird across the pub with her wings clipped. She trembles as she watches her friend disappear into the sea of gyrating bodies, holding onto a man she just met and is deciding to abandon her for.
“You don’t mind, right?” Her friend had asked.
She chirped ditheringly. “Um… sure, yeah. You go have fun.”
A fickle smile split her cheeks. A warm wash of liquid glossed her eyes.
Ghost watches her watching her friend. Sadness is written into her features. That type of sadness so deep-seated you feel it crushing your ribs, denting your heart. She sighs and hangs her head, staring down at her drink. Her ice cube has melted, the salt crusting her rim having hardened. Her shoulder start to shake.
Ghost decides it would be remiss of him to not check up on her. The bird with frilly feathers and bent wings, wounded, too feeble to fight back.
He throws back the rest of his drink. He doesn’t wince at the burn, but still, Ghost’s face puckers into something different. Something mean as he approaches her and lays his elbow on the bar’s sticky countertop, splitting his hand across the top of her spine.
“What’s a bird like you doin’ all alone?”
She girdles. It’s like she’s been folded in two and hung out to dry, the way she shrinks into herself and flexes her shoulders.
His words hang stagnant for a few seconds. Perhaps it will make him lose interest and slip away, but Ghost is a persistent one. The badges embroidered into his uniform are a testament to that.
He passes his thumb over her neck. She shivers.
“I… um. Well, my boyfriend’s in the bathroom.”
Ghost almost chuckles. The bird says it with such skittish conviction that surely, not even she believes it.
He grunts. “It’s rude to lie, y’know.”
She gulps. “My friend’s with me.”
“The one that just left you?” He asks. “A pretty shit friend, if you ask me. A bird like you deserves someone better.”
She purses her lips because they begin to quiver. She tries shouldering him away, tries blinking back the fat tears of brine that threaten to thaw and slip down her cheek. Her voice is distorted with discomfort and self-pity when she replies, “That’s stupid. I just want her to be happy.”
“And her?” Ghost prompts. He distracts her with his rough lilt as he slips his hand low, into the divot between her ass and waist. “How often does she fuck off with the men you fancy?“
She flinches. It’s the sudden recoil of her muscles, and her mind’s attempt at getting away from him.
“I-it’s not like that.”
“Yeah?” He asks. “It’s not like she leaves you alone every time you go out, lookin’ like a dolt when she finds someone more fun?”
She swallows thickly. Her lips warble around her next words. “… Sometimes, I guess.”
Ghost’s cock jumps. The fat mass pushes against his jeans, angled towards her.
“Yeah,” he croons. “I know how hard it can be. Why don’t you come over to my flat, huh? Give ‘er a taste of her own medicine.”
She inches away. Ghost only holds her tighter, gripping that broken little wing of hers and doting on it.
“I don’t… do that stuff. Sorry.”
Something primal in Ghost barks. That stuff. She’s never taken dick? Or never taken dick from a stranger? Either way, Ghost’s cock stirs and starts drooling on his thigh. She can probably see it. That blotchy stain on his jeans under the mellow lighting.
“I play nice, bird,” he mutters. “And wouldn’t it be nice to get back at them? Your mate? All those blokes who ignored you?”
She squeezes her thighs when Ghost settles his hand on her ass. She has trouble pulling them back apart, her thighs that is, as they’re adhered with slick.
“I asked you a question. Wouldn’t it be nice?”
“I guess so…” she whimpers. Keening into Ghost’s whispering touch, the heat of his cock.
He pulls a wad of cash from his pocket and slams it onto the table. He stands up, looking something like a predator on its hind legs, and pulls her from the barstool.
“Let’s go, pretty bird,” he leashes his hand around the base of her neck, leading her outside and into his rust-spattered truck. “You deserve it.”
A stroke of heat licks up her innards. She’s already dazed by the time she’s in his truck, preening as he splits his hand across her leg and digs divots into her thigh, kneading her supple flesh. She’s bleary eyes and impaired on arousal as they drive past the city’s margins and into the outback, the roads turning pebbled.
She’s too excited, too sweet to heed Ghost pulling her out of his truck and hauling her into a neglected flat.
She only feels his hands on her, big and warm. And the cool carbon steel of handcuffs locking around her ankle.
She smiles.
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remember-the-fanfics · 10 months ago
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Gen-Z!Overlord!Reader
• Died at 18, been in hell for a few years.
• Came in after Alastor disappeared, just before Vaggie showed up.
• You were never one to follow what everyone else did. Killing, drugs, theft, or porn.
• Kept to yourself for a few months, getting use to being dead and in hell.
• Accidentally became an Overlord after you killed one in self defense.
"In my defense, she was like super creepy and an asshole. A big one."
• The souls were free but you kept your new territory nice so they didn't leave.
• You made jobs and kept the housing in better shape, only made deals to help souls.
• Gave them a job, house, and protection. You give them a limit of a few years of the deal and if they don't mind it, they can renew it.
"Well I don't want to force them to do something, its rude."
• In return, they keep your territory nice, clean, and less violent than most. Work the jobs you made and protect your little town.
• There's been occasions were you trade souls to other overlords, either the soul did something against them or just an asshole.
• The time on the contract would restart
• To every other overlord, you are a child with a knife and to much power.
• You demolished another overlord because they thought you were weak and tried to destroy you territory.
"You ass eatting bitch-"
• You let others fight for new open territory because you're fine with what you have.
• Panicked when you got invited to an Overlord meeting.
• Apparently you had enough power to be one, then you realized you actually were one.
• It was awkward to meet the most of the overlords. Not knowing who you were to begin with.
"This is for overlords only."
"Oh, I'm (Y/n). I got invited."
• Chatted with Rosie before and after it.
• Camilla likes how you run your territory but you seem so young.
• Did apologized afterwards, introducing you to her daughters, apparently you were around the same age.
• Zestial wanted to know how you took over you territory, interested on how you did it.
• You've only meet Velvette because you need some clothes. She recognized you as the up and coming overlord.
• Throwing the clothes you had in your hands away, saying you need to be in the best lastest trend of clothes.
• You were now stuck having a fashion show as she decided what look good on you.
• While not enjoying all the clothes she had you try on, you kept being nice having conversation when she wasn't yelling at everyone else.
• Velvette learned that you were around the same age so she decided that you were acquainted enough to have her number.
• Apparently it wasn't optional for you.
• You brought back way to much clothes for one person, atleast now you have style.
• Chaotic neutral energy
• Charlie meet you after she heard that you improved a part of hell, wasn't expecting someone so young looking.
"Dying just after I turned 18 just means I look young forever."
• Laughing at your own dark humor.
"Ha...ha.
• Charlie did not find it as funny.
• Told you about the hotel idea and you were right on board.
• Thought it was a good way to stick it to the man and help people.
• Vaggie was surprised when Charlie brought back a child.
• More surprised that you're the Overlord that Charlie wanted to meet with.
• Definitely said Vaggie's name wrong for the first time reading it.
• Meeting Angel Dust after he decided to crash at the hotel.
• Not knowing what he was known for but definitely heard his name from someone.
"You're a kind of actor?"
"Of the sorts."
• After you heard what he was famous for.
"Well, he'll do him and I'll do me but never do each other."
• There was an awkward silence of confusion from everyone.
• Having to explain every reference you make.
• Vaggie made jar for everytime you make a dark joke.
• Charlie has asked you why you were in hell. You shrugged, never living a truly bad life but probably just too chaotic for heaven to handle.
• You leave every few days to check back in your little town to make sure everything was running smoothly.
• You know when something happens, feeling the souls you own in a panic.
• Having to let everyone remember why you were in charge a couple of times.
• Either with your words or actions.
• Luckily Rosie just adores your mannerisms and how you don't completely turn away from her with what or who she eats.
"You could say the food was to die for!"
• She finds your dark humor funny.
• So she keeps an eye out for you, sending letters to you every few days.
• You vist her every other week to just chat, she tells you about easy territories that you could get. You say you would rather show up some punks than have more responsibility with more souls.
• Offers food everytime, you say no thanks everytime.
• Rosie would tell you all the tea about the other overlords or her own town.
• Yay! You have an allie with an another overlord by being friends.
• Also with offering truly worse souls sometimes. On a rare occasion.
• Rosie knowing when you offer a soul to her, she would take her time with it. Enjoying every bite.
• Anyway- Sinners would come up to asking for deal when they are completely down on their luck.
• But whats following a couple of rules for free house and job.
• You give them enough warning before you would shake hands then saying you would know if they even thought of fucking your shit up.
• Putting an add for Charlie's hotel in your territory.
• Charlie almost hugged you to death after seeing it.
• When Alastor showed up, the two of you would have a intense staring contest.
• He wasn't expecting another overlord here, oh wait, you're new.
• Alastor not actually taking the hotel serious, pissed you off but he was more powerful.
• Charlie having to keep you and Vaggie from trying to fight him.
"I didn't know there was a new overlord! Charmed to meet you. Whose territory was up for grab?"
"She was a bitch-."
"I know who exactly you speak of, that's good. She never had any manners."
• Watching him summon Husk and Niffty and was shocked.
• Tried it and summoned one of your workers.
• Excited that it worked! Apologetic for interrupting their day.
"Ah ha! It worked! Oh shit it worked! Sorry!"
• You and Niffty vibe on a similar level. Charmingly violent.
• Vaggie has to make sure either of you give the other one a bad idea to do.
• Husk question your age when you went to the bar. Making you do the math.
"Well I died at 18, it's been a few years so old enough."
• Gave you a hard drink which you spit out after tasting.
• You decide hard alcohol wasn't for you.
• Knowing how technology was when you died making you the most technical advance Sinners in the hotel.
-
That's enough for now, just a thought I had when working.
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gabriellessworldd · 4 months ago
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Never get yo bitch back!
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plug!connie x black fem reader 😛😛
wc- 1.7k!
☆ warnings ☆: mdni! mentions of weed nd alcohol, smut 18+, cheating (established relationship w eren), public-ish sex (bathroom unlocked door), pnv, oral (f receive), Connie and reader have wanted each other for a min, first time writing ever don't drag me y'all pls!! 😓 I kinda want to make this have multiple parts but idk yet. I'm very open to criticism nd I hope y'all enjoy!
"Y/nnnnn, cmon you can come outside for one night!" Your best friend Sasha whined through the screen. As much as you protested, deep down you really did want to go out. Especially because Eren wasn't at home, you really wanted to talk to him since y'all haven't been doing so well recently. Petty arguments, sleepless nights, ig posts, and to top it all off he hasn't been to your house in weeks, not giving y'all anytime to have a conversation.
You check the time and see it's 6:00pm that means you got at least 2-3 hours before you would have to leave. "Girl you right, send me the lo. What you wearin?" Sasha set her phone up to show you the outfit she picked out, "Girl that's cute asf!! Ima match you." Sasha helped you pick out an outfit (1 or 2) that resembled hers. "Okay Sash ima finish my hair nd makeup, lmk when yall otw there." "Bye N/n, i gotchu." Sasha hung up and you continued finishing your hair and makeup.
Once you were in your car you looked at the location, realizing that it was at Jean's house, meaning Connie would be there. There was something so attractive about Connie that you didn't know how to explain, he was just, mesmerizing. You knew you would never be able to approach him tho, him nd Eren had been friends forever, and that was a boundary you wouldn't cross. Nothing being crossfaded couldn't fix..
You pull in front of Jean's house and it's packed, you can hear the music from the street. You text Sasha that you pulled up and fix yourself in the car mirror. "We're waiting for you at the front N/n." You read Sasha's text and get out of your car. When you open the door Mikasa, Annie, Sasha, and some other girls greet you. You scan the crowd feeling a familiar stare, you turn to your right and see a crossfaded Connie Springer and his homeboys sitting on some sofas in the corner. Connie feels you stare back and smirks. 'This finna be interesting.' You think to yourself.
You make your way to the kitchen to take a couple shots, Sasha gets a blunt from Ony, and y'all head upstairs to light up. When the sesh is over you feel amazing, the music is blasting, you're having a great night, and you're a 10, what could be better? You and the girls head downstairs to go dance and enjoy your night. You and Sasha throw ass like there's no tomorrow and Mikasa is right there to catch it. You laugh and stand up straight when you feel the stare of those familiar hazel eyes. "Ima go grab another drink" you tell Sasha and she drukenly nods.
You walk up to the counter where all of the drinks are, "hey connie" you look at him, and smile. He leans in closer to you "wassup mami, you look good. shit, you smell good too." he smiles at you with all of his pearly white teeth and you notice his silver grillz.(#1, #2, #3) God he's so fine. The way his red eyes are hanging low, the smell of his cologne, and his pretty ass accent, triple homicide.
"Where yo man at tho? Thought he was gon come tonight." Connie's confused as to why Eren isn't at this party trailing you like a lost puppy, unless, y'all wasn't on speaking terms right now. He grinned at the thought "Oh um Ion really-" You stuttered out wondering why he would ruin a good conversation. "Nah you ain gotta answer mami, follow me." He held his hand out with a 'hm' and you quickly took it, needing to feel his touch. He lead you upstairs to the first bathroom he saw, he opened the door, "Tu vas primero hermosa" you go first beautiful. You smiled at the sentence and walked in front of him. His eyes naturally trailed down to the best view there was 'Damn.' was all he thought as he watched you walk and felt himself get harder in his sweats.
"So wassup?" You questioned him, almost like a challenge. You leaned your back against the counter and looked into his eyes. "To be honest ion wanna play no games ma, you know what I want." He leaned towards you, muscular and veiny arms on both sides of you, caging you in.
You could feel the tension grow as both of you realized just how badly you needed the other. "Can I?" Connie asks to kiss you 'and he's respectful omg add that to the list' you think, "Yes, you can." As soon as those three words came out of your mouth, Connie grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you to him, his other hand quickly found your ass and squeezed, while your hands slid their way into his scruffy buzzcut. The kiss was passionate but it also had a hint of hunger, longing almost, like both of you waited your whole lives for this. Both of your tongues fighting for dominance, and both of you wanted, no, craved more from each other. Connie's large hand found it's way to your throat and he squeezed softly earning a light moan from you, Connie pulled away, a string of saliva connecting you two.
"Ay dios mio mami" oh my god Connie whispered. Connie littered bites and hickeys down your neck and exposed cleavage, not caring who would see. He tapped on your thigh, a signal for you to stand so he could remove your pants. He then picked you up and set you back down on the counter, he kissed the insides of your thighs and left a trail of bites. He looked up at you for confirmation, and you nodded your head, he pulled your panties to the side. Connie was in a trance, the way your folds were so puffy, the way they were covered in wetness, connie almost came in his pants at the sight. "Fuck." was all he said before he began kissing and sucking on your lips. He spread them open with his middle and index finger, and could've sworn he saw heaven.
He plunged his fingers inside your wet hole, sucking on your clit while he pumped his fingers in you nice and slow. "Fuck con" you let out a soft moan, it was like music to his ears. He worked his fingers a little faster and curled them up grazing over your spot. "o-oh fuck connie mmhm, right there" He came up, bottom half of his face covered in your sweet juices "You taste so sweet, princesa" and with that he went back down and devoured you like you were his last meal. "a-ah mm con. That feels soo good" you whispered, feather light moans. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening as he pushed his tongue in and out of your hole. "Cmon mami let me hear you." he felt you squeeze his tongue and pull his hair, that was enough to let him know. He pushed his fingers back in and started pumping at an insane speed.
"Go ahead ma, let me taste all of you" Your thighs tightened around his head as you felt your high coming. "ah connie 'm gonna cum, fuck!" you moaned out louder than before, he curled his fingers again, making you throw your head back and squeeze your eyes closed. "Joder, eres tan deliciosa." damn, you're so delicious.
Connie stood up and your hands immediately found the band of his sweats and boxers, in one tug you pulled them both down. "Eager much huh mami? Well I expect you to take it all then." Your eyes widened at the statement but your thoughts were cut short when you heard him speak again. "Turn around for me mami, and don't take your eyes off the mirror." The dominance in his voice made you even wetter. You turned around towards the mirror and he slid off your panties.
He smeared his tip on your folds, collecting your wetness. Without warning he pushed his full length in, starting off with slow strokes. "Fuck mami, you're squeezing me so tight" You arched your back a little more and relaxed. He starts moving quicker and palms the fat of your ass.
Connie props one of your legs on the counter and smacks your ass. "f-fuck connie oh!" hearing you get louder, not caring if anyone could hear you, only riled him up more. He snaked his hand around your throat pulling your head up more so you could see what a mess he made of you. Your lip liner gone, mascara smeared on your damp bottom eyelashes, and a fucked out expression. Connie thought you looked perfect.
"Y-yes mami, take all t-this dick" you hear him stutter his calm demeanor fading away as he fucks into you at an unruly pace. "Ah! Con so good. i-it's so big" He smacks your ass again and continues fucking you.
He pulls out and you pout feeling empty "Calmate princesa." calm down princess He chuckles and flips you on your back then he pulls your hips closer to him. He pushes back into you, not wasting any time. Connie pushes your legs back a little more "Keep 'em right there ma." You hold the back of your knees with your hands, feeling connie's tip hit all the right places, Connie places a heavy hand on your lower stomach and he presses down. "a-ah con please! it feels soo good." You and Connie both feel yourselves about to cum.
"Con 'm about to cum! ah please Connie!" You can feel your thighs starting to shake, "g-go ahead mami, fuck you're so perfect. m-make a mess all over me." Connie rubs on your sensitive bud and keeps fucking you deep. You can feel a wave of pleasure wash over you and your vision turns white. "Ah! Connie fuck 'm cumming!" You yell, "f-fuck me too ma." You notice his voice falter and crack at the end, he sounds so angelic. He pulls out and hot, white, ropes coat your tummy.
Connie begins wiping off your stomach and he leans in to kiss you, but he sees something in the corner of his eye, almost like a, figure. "Shit" Connie says blankly, putting his pants back on. You scramble to put your clothes back on and turn to see Eren standing there looking pissed.
"what.. what the fuck is wrong with y'all?"
Whew chileeeee. y'all did I at least nibble or what 👀 but lmk if I should make this multiple parts, also give me title ideas!! lmk if y'all want to be tagged in the next parts! love u all nd I hope y'all had as much fun reading as I had writing this! (watch nb read ts #embarrasing 😰)
- with lots of love, gabrielle <3
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vampiefemme · 9 months ago
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in which ellie shows you exactly who you belong to.
18+ minors dni!
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You and Ellie aren’t together. 
You’re not a couple. You’d both agreed to keep things casual. You’re just roommates who mess around sometimes; simple as that. 
So why do you feel so guilty for going on a date with someone else?
You’re dressed and ready, adding the final touches to your makeup in the mirror, and you should be feeling excited - your date is a total dreamboat. Perfect on paper and so, so hot. But instead of that giddy, fluttery feeling in your stomach, all you feel is guilt. 
You and Ellie aren’t together, you keep reminding yourself. You repeat it like a mantra in your head. There’s nothing wrong with going on a date, right? Because you’re single… Right?
On your way out, you run into Ellie, because of course you do. She’s sprawled out on the couch, head propped on a pillow, playing her Switch with a determined look on her face. Your stomach clenches when you see her. She looks up when she hears you walk to the front door, her eyes following you as you slip into your shoes. 
“You look nice,” Ellie says from the couch. You look over and see that she’s paused her game; she’s sitting up and drinking in the sight of you, eyes lingering over your frame. You pretend not to notice. 
“Thank you, Ellie.” You grin and look down at your outfit, palms smoothing over the fabric of your skirt. You do look nice. 
“Where are you going?” 
Your cheeks go hot at the question, and your first instinct is to lie - to tell Ellie that you’re going to see a friend. Just catching up with someone from college over dinner. But it’d be stupid to lie - you’re single. You’re allowed to go out.
“I’m, um, going on a date.”
You don’t look at her when you say it - you know you’d feel guilty, even if the two of you are just friends with benefits. Or… Roommates with benefits?
“Oh,” Ellie says, as you busy yourself picking off nonexistent lint from your shirt. Anything to avoid her gaze. “Okay. Have fun, then.”
There’s no bitterness in her voice, which you had expected. You glance at her face, and she’s back to that determined expression, focused on her Switch again. 
You clear your throat. “Thanks. I’ll, um… See you later.” 
Naturally, you spend the entire date thinking about Ellie. Her eyes, green and dotted with flecks of brown. Her hair, which falls in her face just right. Her mouth, and the way it feels against the supple flesh of your throat, Ellie’s lips soft and wet as she trails kisses down your neck. 
And her hands - her strong hands. You can almost feel them on your hips, on your chest, between your legs. 
God, this date was a mistake.  
Still, you have the common decency to see it through. You pretend to be interested in your date’s job, their hobbies, their five year plan. They drone on for hours, only asking you a few pointed questions about yourself, and when the dinner’s finally over and they’ve signed the check, you’re itching to leave.
Not long after you’ve made it back home, you’re face-down on Ellie’s bed, moaning into the mattress as her tongue circles your clit. 
She’d asked you about your date between heated kisses, her lips flushed and swollen. You hadn’t given her much details aside from it was boring and I just wanted to come home and do this. That seemed to give Ellie some sort of complex, because now, as she pumps her fingers into your cunt with one hand and lands a stinging smack on your ass with the other, she pulls back from mouthing at your clit to rasp, “That’s it, moan for me.” 
And she’s always been talkative in bed, all slurred curses and dirty comments, but there’s something different this time. You arch your back deeper, giving her more access to pound her fingers into you, and she groans in approval. 
“Good fucking girl,” she breathes, using her free hand to dig her blunt nails into the flesh of your ass. She gives it another spank for good measure. “Wanna tell me whose pussy this is?”
There it is - something she’s never said before. You can feel yourself getting wetter, tightening around her fingers as your hips involuntarily push backwards against her palm. You forget to respond entirely, every thought in your head smooth and shapeless, disappearing as quickly as it came. But Ellie won’t let you off so easily. 
“Flip over,” she orders, the rasp in her voice sending a thrill up your spine. You obey wordlessly, and when you’re on your back, you see it: a possessive glint in her gaze, a sharp edge to her expression. You gush impossibly wetter, cunt clenching around nothing - the absence of Ellie’s fingers makes you want to sob. 
“Ellie,” you whisper, brows knitting together. Her gaze softens. “Please make me come.”
A smile tugs at her lips and she nods, her palm rubbing over your stomach in soothing circles. 
“I will, princess,” she assures you, “but I need you to tell me who you belong to. Think you might’ve forgotten.”
Guilt twists in your gut. “You, Ellie.” 
“What about me?”
There’s a challenge in the teasing lilt of her voice. You swallow. “I… Belong to you.”
“Mm, that’s right.” Ellie’s hands travel upward from your abdomen to your chest, closing around each of your tits. You suck in a shaky breath when her thumbs stroke over your pert nipples, making them draw even more taut. “These are mine?”
“Yours,” you gasp, chest rising and falling quickly. Ellie’s bangs fall in her eyes as she leans over to suck a nipple into her mouth, tongue swirling over the bud until you go cross-eyed, hips canting upward. She repeats the same torture with your other breast, leaving both of your nipples swollen and sensitive. 
“What about this?” Ellie asks when she pulls back, her hand moving to the heat between your legs. You whine, a desperate, pathetic little sound that makes Ellie want to eat you whole. 
“Yours, Ellie, it’s yours,” you say, voice betraying how needy you are. She dips a finger into your wetness, your folds silky with arousal, and you almost miss the way her eyes flicker back into her skull for a moment. She’s enjoying this just as much as you are. 
“This is mine?” She drags her fingers up to your clit, drawing torturously wide circles around it - close, but not close enough. You could start crying right there. You nod, frantic.
Ellie clicks her tongue, tuts in disapproval. “No, baby, I need to hear you say it. Whose pussy is this?”
And it’s not so hard to admit - Ellie’s had you under her spell long before you went on that stupid date tonight. You realize it now, cheeks warming at the obscene sounds of Ellie’s fingers playing in your cunt, unable to look her in the eye without squirming. 
“My pussy’s yours,” you pant, “s’all yours. Nobody fucks me like you, Els.” 
You’re pushing your hips towards her touch, your tits in your own hands now, pulling at your nipples like it’ll relieve the growing need in your belly. Ellie eyes you with half-lidded eyes, lust heavy in her gaze, and it’s like you can see the remnants of her resolve break. She sinks between your legs and finally, finally laps at your desperate cunt, drinking in the taste of you as you whine and writhe above her. 
When you come, it’s with Ellie’s name on your lips. And you know it’s true - you’re entirely hers.
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murdrdocs · 1 month ago
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pied piper
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murdrtober oct 12th. father charlie mayhew description. between paranoia, extra shifts at work, and the comforting embrace of a catholic priest, you can hardly keep up with everything happening in your life these days. you can only go about it all one day at a time.
includes. SMUT 18+ MDNI, oral (f receiving), paranoia/anxiety, slight religious manipulation, religious doubts, catholicism (but inaccurate i was barely raised baptist)
wc. 5.8k+
a/n: one night only! come one come all and see the weird priest get with the girl who honestly does not know what is happening
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You see him often. 
The first few times were from afar. He always elected to sit in a section that wasn’t yours, switching every couple of visits as if he were testing out the spots in the diner. You believed every spot was just like the others—equally as shitty. But there was the spot you liked most. The corner seat in your section, situated between two of the large windows. When there weren’t any spiders or ants nesting in the corner, it was a favorable spot. 
And within the past month, it’s been his spot. 
It’s the longest he’s ever sat anywhere. You initially attribute it to the spot, but then there are things that make you believe he sits there because of you. 
The way his crestfallen expression brightens up when you come over, even if it's barely a noticeable difference. The hefty tips he leaves you, always in cash and always delivered right to your hand. The whispers from your coworkers whenever he comes in on a day where you weren’t working. 
“The priest was looking for you yesterday,” spoken right into your ear as if it were a secret that others would die to be let in on. 
Your coworkers thought it was flattery, maybe his attempt at flirting. But you’d seen what it was like for men to flirt with you through work. The jeers they gave you, the way they eyed your ass in your work pants and made direct advances, no matter how many times you turned them down. That was flirting, not politeness from him. 
Besides, he was a priest, he’d sworn himself to God. Maybe his vice was just a greasy meal once a week, and he didn’t mind a smiling face giving it to him. You didn’t think much of it. 
You didn’t think much of the pamphlet he gave you with your tip today, either. 
“I don’t know if you’re religious, and if you aren’t, I don’t mean to offend. It’s just, um, I preach at this church. Every Sunday.” He scratches the back of his head, watching you look through the tiny pamphlet in your hand. “If you’re interested, everything’s on there. The time, dates, location … yeah.”
You grin down at him. “Thank you,” you say, knowing in your head that you won’t go to a service. Sunday’s are your reset days, a time dedicated to putting yourself in breathable clothing, lounging around a newly cleaned house, watching whatever show you thought about the night before. Church service for a religion you don’t practice doesn’t fit in that schedule. 
Still, you tuck the pamphlet in your apron along with your tip. “I’ll see you next time, Father.”
He nods his head with security, as if he knows that he will only be seeing you at your job and never at his. But he doesn’t say anything, only pulls his mouth into a thin smile before reaching over and taking a final sip from his drink. You walk away from the table, going back to the kitchen and watching him leave from the window. 
You’re lingering. 
Should you stay and say something? Everyone seems to want to speak to Father Mayhew, and you would just be yet another pupil itching to talk to him. But leaving without saying something seems improper. It feels rude. 
You stay put, standing near the door in the lobby, watching the small crowd form around Father Mayhew. 
He looks in his element like this, grinning, nodding along to whatever is being said to him, but there’s something off. He looks a little dissociated, a disconnect between the smile on his lips and the look in his eyes. 
You’re busy analyzing him, pulling up your high school memory of Psychology to throw half assed theories about his attitude around in your head, when he looks at you. It’s quick, nothing but a glance that could have been directed in your general area. Maybe he was simply looking at the door and he ran into you instead. 
But he sees you and he pauses. He doesn’t stop listening, but the grin on his lips contorts for just a second. It loses the rough edge, and then it softens. He looks back at the person he’s engaged in conversation with and you watch as he ends the conversation within the next thirty seconds. 
It’s unprofessional how he dodges those wishing to talk to him in favor of reaching you. You think it’s even more professional for him to grin the entire journey over. 
He says your name like he’s shocked you’re here. 
You’re shocked you’re here, too. 
“Father,” you greet, clasping your hands behind your back. 
“What did you think?” The question throws you off kilter. 
Does he actually care about your opinion on his profession?
Your eyes lift to the ceiling as you think, trying to find adjectives to describe the hour you’ve just sat through. “Um…” you hesitate, flicking through the less favorable adjectives as you attempt to find something positive to say. 
“You thought it was boring.” 
You’re ready to do damage control, your mouth already open with reassurances that are all lies. But Father Mayhew is smiling at you with more conviction than you’ve ever seen from him. When he looks at you like this, he looks more like the young adult that he should be and less like the figurehead of a church that he is. 
You don’t pretend any longer. “It wasn’t that boring, I’m just not a churchgoer,” Father Mayhew nods. He tucks his hands into his pockets and you try not to notice how the sleeves of his black shirt have been rolled up to sit right beneath his elbows. You do get a glance in, though, nothing longer than a second, and when you look back up at him, he doesn’t seem to have noticed. Feeling awkward with nothing else to say, you add, “As you can tell by my outfit. I have been in a church in a while. I didn’t know what people wore these days.”
The implications of asking a Catholic priest to form an opinion on your clothing doesn’t enter your brain until after you’ve said the words, but Father Mayhew doesn’t appear uncomfortable. 
He stands there for a second, just looking at you with too much of something in his eyes. It makes you uncomfortable and you squirm in your church shoes. The movement reminds you of the pain in your toes and on the back of your ankle. 
Father Mayhew’s gaze sweeps down your body, slowly taking in every aspect of you from head to toe. 
“That’s okay. I’m just glad you came. And for the record, I think you look beautiful. Angelic, even.”
God, why is your stomach fluttering from this tiny interaction? You need to get out of here before things go in a direction you hadn’t intended. 
You smile politely at him. 
“Well, thank you for the invite, Father Mayhew. It was … interesting.” 
He laughs as he nods. “Yeah, yeah. Of course. I guess I’ll see you around?” There’s more hope to it this time, like this one excursion has given him the idea that you’ll be back. Will you? 
You stick to nodding, not verbally confirming anything. You turn around, heading for the door, but then he calls your name. 
You turn back around, watching him make up the step that you took away from him. “You can call me Charlie if you like.”
You test his name in your mouth. “Charlie.” It feels wrong without the title in the front. But you still grin, unsure of how often you’ll call him just Charlie, especially when it feels less professional than you would have liked. 
Charlie grins. He says your name once, too. 
And then you reach for the door and step out into the day. 
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Despite your initial intentions, you see a lot more of Father Mayhew after that first Sunday. 
He starts to come into the diner just to sit, sometimes steadily sipping a milkshake or a sweet tea while he reads a mass market paperback. In turn, you go to Mass more often, once a month at first, then every other week, and eventually every Sunday, showing your face so often that he starts to look for you in the crowd. Well, at least you think he’s looking for you. 
The crowd he brings in is mixed—some of them younger, drawn in by his relaxed nature that’s a breath of fresh air from the other priests, but most of them are older. You’ve made friends with a couple women, an older woman who sees her grandson in Father Mayhew, and a middle aged woman who understands Father Mayhew better than she’s ever understood any other priest before. 
You sit in a pew with them, listening to them praise the teachings of the lord as it comes from the young priest’s mouth. You nod along with them, ignoring your confusion as you try your hardest to listen. A lot of the material seems contradictory, either to itself or your own personal beliefs. So by the first fifteen minutes, you end up just staring at Father Mayhew, hoping your eyes hold platonic interest even if your emotions are anything but. 
You’ve begun to crave the routine of it all. Waking up early Sunday morning, showering and getting ready just to sit in a church pew, retiring back home where you cleaned with nothing else on your mind except for how dark and deep Father Mayhew’s eyes are. 
It didn’t occur to you that you were lusting after him until later. 
 The weather had begun to cool down, even though it was never really cold here. You could still feel the implications, recognizing how the night began to greet the sky quicker than before, feeling a bite in the air when you finished a closing shift and sped to your car. 
There was a lot happening in your little town, horrors that you couldn’t even begin to fathom. You didn’t feel safe anymore, you couldn’t feel safe when someone was out there committing crimes that only the sickest minds could conjure up. It was inhumane to the point where you couldn’t imagine a human being conducting the murders. There had to be another force at hand. 
Father Charlie understood this. He preached with sympathy towards the victims, and condemnant towards the perpetrator, but there was something else there too. He preached as if he were inside of the killer's mind, painting an understanding for each of you in the pews. When Father Charlie explained it, the killer was humane, with interests and desires just as you have. He was an extremist, yes, but he was an artist all the while. 
You felt less fear when you had the safety net of Sunday Mass. When you had the safety net of Father Charlie. 
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“Am I safe to call you an avid churchgoer yet?” 
You’ve grown used to the sound of Father Charlie’s voice, but you weren’t expecting to hear it so close to you. When you jump in your skin, he laughs under his breath. 
You turn around, your eyes wide and your hand pressed over your heart. Your immediate instinct is to expel the Lord’s name, but you know Charlie’s stance on taking the Lord’s name in vain, so instead you tell him, “You scared me, Father.” 
“My apologies.” He reaches his hand out as if to touch you but he stops midway. “You’ve been coming every Sunday for what, the past two months? Three?”
“Yeah. I guess I would technically be considered a churchgoer.”
He places his hands in his pockets, squaring his shoulders, and this isn’t the first time you’ve noticed how strong his structure is. Still, you ogle like this is new information to you. 
“Do you see yourself becoming a Catholic somewhere down the line?”
You go to disagree, preparing to spew the same opinion you’ve had for a while now. You might be coming to church, but you’re here for the community, not much else. But lately, things have begun to change. There’s no reason for you to not consider it at least. 
You shrug. “Maybe.”
“Why maybe?”
Weighing how to formulate your reasonings, you shift from one foot to the other. Father Charlie doesn’t say anything. He just patiently waits for you to respond. 
“I guess there’s just so much that I don’t understand.”
“Like the rules and sins? Along that territory?”
“I guess, but also just in general. Like foundational. Maybe since I didn’t grow up with it I’m just left in the dark.”
Father Charlie’s face lights up. “How ‘bout this, I will explain it to you. Whatever you want. Even if you want me to go from the very beginning.”
You’re quick to politely decline. “Oh, you don’t have to, Father. I can just look things up. Not like I’ve been getting much sleep these days anyway, might as well use the nights for something a little more productive.”
Father Charlie doesn’t let you go without reinstating his proposal. “Seriously. It would be no problem for me. I get to do the two things I love most: spread the word of Christ and help out those in the community. I’ll give you my number and then we can go from there?”
There’s no room for no in there, so you pull your phone out, hand it over to Father Charlie, and watch his thumbs click onto the digits until you have his number saved in your phone. 
You meet with Father Charlie after Wednesday Mass. 
You come in once the others have trickled out, and Father Charlie is always in the same spot—sitting atop his chair in the center, leaning back with his legs spread, appearing contemplative as you humbly approach the altar. 
Whatever expression he had on his face before he sees you is always wiped away as soon as he looks down at you. He grins, big and comforting, and takes you to a small office off to the side of the church, where he patiently listens to your questions and answers them. 
Comprehension entices you, pushing you further and further into religion’s embrace. Session by session, you start to hate the idea of confirmation less and less. 
It’s all thanks to Father Charlie. 
It’s not necessarily comparable for the two of you, but Father Charlie meets you at your workplace, too. When he jokes about it, likening your work to the same level of achievement as his, you sweetly laugh. 
“Not really the same though, is it? Your job is a little more … aspirational, right? No one really aspires to be a waitress at a diner.”
Father Charlie raises his eyebrows as if he’s reprimanding you for negative self-talk. “Hey. Who knows maybe there’s some kid out there who really wants to make ten fifty an hour.”
The bell above the door dings and you glance over your shoulder to see two customers walk in. They hesitate, looking around, before eventually heading off to a table not in your section. 
You turn back around, a little grateful to have more time to speak to Father Charlie. You haven’t seen him since last Wednesday, and you won’t admit it to anyone out loud, but you’ve definitely missed him. 
You’ve missed the smell of his cologne—something fresh and a little earthy. You’ve missed the low timbre of his voice, the dark stare he fixes you with when he’s explaining a Bible verse, the slight twitch in his eyes when you question something for the umpteenth time. 
It’s a slow day today, no one really comes in at 3 o’clock on a Tuesday, so you take a seat across from Father Charlie in the booth. 
His eyes flicker down as if surprised by your actions. You raise your eyebrows, challenging him to comment. 
“Slow shift?” he asks. 
You nod, taking a fry and placing it in your mouth. “You mind if I sit? Keep you company for a bit?”
He only sits back in his seat and pushes his basket of fries to the center of the table. 
He watches you silently finish off the remainder of his fries and whenever you hesitate, he instantly slides his drink over to you, too. A diet coke, you know it before you even wrap your lips around the straw. 
There’s a lipstick stain left behind, but that doesn't stop Father Charlie from leaning forward and wrapping his lips around the straw once you’re done. When he holds eye contact the entire time, you try to ignore the flashing sign in your brain that tells you there are sexual implications there. Surely, he wasn’t thinking that way. 
Father Charlie continues like nothing happened and you maintain your belief that whatever just happened was really nothing on at all. 
“We still on for tomorrow, right?”
You hum, mentally trying to find a work around for the third time today. No matter how many times you run it through in your head, you just can’t do it. Without enough gas, and short on a paycheck, you don’t think it’s responsible for you to drive to Father Charlie, especially for a meeting that will only last an hour tops. Besides, you picked up a shift tomorrow that ends right when you usually meet with him. 
You tell him this, and you shouldn’t be surprised that he’s quick to suggest a solution. 
Father Charlie is so adaptable to your needs, pushing your meetings back by a half hour or a week if you need. You should have known that a small complaint that was out of his hands would have him scrambling to make up for the inconvenience. 
“It’s really no biggie, I can just come by your place then, if that’s okay. We can do later, too, give you some time to freshen up.”
You don’t see why not. Father Charlie has been nothing but kind to you thus far. Besides, he’s a devout member of the community. You don’t think he could ever mean any harm. 
“Yeah. That’s totally fine. I’ll send you my address.”
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Having Father Charlie in your home provides a different atmosphere. 
Thus far, you’ve been pushing down your desires for him. Throughout the past few weeks, you’ve been able to avoid the churning in your stomach when he places a—platonic, you think—hand on your lower back as he leads you out of the office after your sessions. 
It was easier to convince yourself that you were just being typically delusional, holding onto small moments to give you giddiness that would push you through a particularly grueling day. Father Charlie’s small smiles and acts of kindness outside of the four walls that you call home was attributed to being a public servant, a member of the community, a priest. 
But here, when he stands close and stares down at you, sending you a small smile while you attempt to hide the grin that wants to rise to your lips, things feel more intimate. 
You need to get away from this moment. You won’t be the one to tempt a Catholic priest’s faith and devotion, no matter how many times you picture tearing his clothes off and letting him take you right on the couch. 
“Could I get you something to drink?” 
Charlie looks around your living room, taking inventory of the decorations hanging on the walls, strategically placed to cover chips in paint and suspicious holes that you’ve never gotten around to patching. 
“What do you have?” he asks as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jean jacket. 
It feels weird to see him out of clerical dress. You’ve always thought the mock neck and collar suited him, it worked well with the square structure of his face. But he looks younger like this—dressed down in a plain white tee shirt, jeans, and a jean jacket. 
He looks like the 20-something year old man that he actually is. 
“Lemonade. Soda. Water. I could make you tea, if you’d like. I have earl g—”
“Lemonade sounds fine. Thanks.”
You stalk off to the kitchen to grab him a glass, filling it with ice and lemonade. It’s a task that takes no more than a couple of minutes, maybe a few at most, but you take as much time as you can, standing in the kitchen cursing yourself. Accepting Charlie’s invite yesterday seemed like no big deal, but now you’re regretting it tenfold. 
If you don’t end up succumbing to your own desires, you’ll end up driving yourself insane.
Either way, you don’t think you’ll ever be the same after tonight. If anything, you’ll just have to hope Charlie doesn’t come into the diner for the rest of the week while you cleansed your mind the best way you knew how—disastrously horny imaginative scenarios and masturbation until you were too sensitive to walk. 
You hand Father Charlie the glass of lemonade, trying your best to ignore the satisfying sigh he gives when he takes the first sip. You smile politely when he does it again, folding your hands in your lap as soon as you sit down. 
He downs half of the glass without interruption, and then places the half-full glass on a coaster atop your coffee table. 
“So,” Father Charlie wipes his hands on the denim gripping his thighs. “Should we pick up where we left off last week?”
Last week, you and Father Charlie got into a discussion about sinning. It was trivial, nothing that hasn’t been discussed before, but it has always been on your mind. After knowing him for some time, you felt comfortable enough to discuss it with him, not exactly giving him complete detail involving your many sins, but you alluded to them enough for him to understand your trepidation towards committing to a religion that frowned upon human nature. 
You found yourselves going in circles with the conversation, and you thought today would be different. Apparently not. 
“Everyone sins. That makes us all sinners,” Father Charlie assures. 
“Well, yeah but—”
He doesn’t let you speak. “For example, when’s the last time you judged someone? Held hatred in your heart? When’s the last time you’ve done drugs, smoked weed? Or,” he shifts on the armchair, bringing himself closer to you as if he’s about to tell a secret. “The last time you masturbated?” 
You stay silent, blinking at Father Charlie. How has the conversation pivoted here? Was he just simply giving an example, one he felt you might be able to relate to, or was this something else?
“I’m not saying that I don’t sin, Father. I’m just saying that I don’t think I could be a sinner, and join a religion that despises sinners.”
Father Charlie’s face contorts into one of confusion. “I wouldn’t say Catholicism despises sinners. Sinning is a part of human life and nature. I’ve always believed this. And yes, some sins are worse than others. But some of the cardinal sins are just preposterous. Those who lust a little too much shouldn’t be given the same punishment as a murderer, that I don’t agree with.”
You blink at him when you notice that the conversation has steered back to lust yet again. “Where are you going with this, Father?”
“Charlie,” he corrects, his tone sterner than you’ve ever heard it before. 
You suddenly feel smaller than you did before. Sitting in your home, on your couch, you feel out of control. 
Charlie stands and approaches you. He looms over you for a second, standing with his torso right in your eyeline. You stare at the material of his shirt for a moment, nervous about the sight you’ll see if you lift your eyes. But when Charlie doesn’t move, you know what he wants from you. 
You look up to find him already staring down at you, 
“The point that I am making is that without sinning, we would not be human. I understand this, but I don’t think the Church will ever understand. They would rather sit by, follow tradition, and let the Church die. But things are changing. Slowly, but they are changes happening.” Charlie kneels down but he doesn’t break eye contact. He slowly raises a hand, and you watch it meet your knee from your peripheral vision. 
“My conversations with you these past few months have been insightful. I … I used to think about the Church like you do. The contradictions, the injustices within the Church… I thought I moved on from that but now I’m not sure.” He trails off, breaking eye contact to stare off to the side. 
“Charlie, are you questioning your faith? Did I make you question your faith?”
His eyes snap back to you. “No.” He takes a moment, as if considering, and then he repeats himself, a little firmer this time. “No. But I am beginning to realize that not all evil should be turned away or casted out. Some evil is natural. We should shine a light on it, give it our attention, give it room and allow it to grow. One can be a sinner, while also being a member of the Church. I am living proof of this.” His hand trails up your thigh as he speaks. You don’t think you’re following his train of thought, mostly because you can’t concentrate when he’s touching you like this. 
“Do you understand what I’m saying?”
You blink down at him. You could ask him to repeat himself, but you don’t think you need to. He might be speaking in a way that’s going in one ear and out of the other for you, but the implications that he’s feeding you with every touch and every glance up at you through the long fan of dark eyelashes framing even darker eyes are clear. 
You know what Charlie wants from you. 
“Yes. I understand.”
He smiles, just a small, almost shy, quirk of his lips. 
“And do you feel the same way? Do you see things how I see them?”
This time you only nod. It happens in a flash, Charlie’s hand cupping the back of your neck, pulling your face down to his. You almost fall off of the couch with the movement, but you hold yourself up with both hands on his shoulders. Immediately you feel the thick structure of muscle beneath his shirt. 
“I need to hear you say it.” 
You don’t mean to hesitate, but you do. You want Charlie, you have wanted him since the first time he sat in your section. But he’s a priest for God’s sake. What type of person willingly sleeps with a priest?
When you tell him this, his nostrils flare and his jaw tenses. 
“What type of person?” he repeats. “A sinner. That’s what you are, right? You told me that when we first started having private sessions, didn’t you? You told me you sin too often to commit to the church. You couldn’t possibly find yourself in the home of Christ if you are out sinning every weekend, and then be forced to confess each and every sin in excruciating detail.” 
His hand slides up your inner thigh now. He tilts his head, staring up at you as if he’s innocent. “And you never did tell me about those sins, did you? About the times you went out partying, brought some guy back here.” He slides his fingers up until they reach the button of your jeans. “Did you let him fuck you right here? Slip your dress up and your panties down for him. Sit yourself on his cock. Let him defile you like you’re nothing but a common whore.” 
He pops your jeans open and glides your zipper down. “You’re not, by the way. I think you’re more than that. If you were a common whore, you would’ve put out by the third, maybe fourth, session. But you’ve been a good girl. You’ve been holding out on me.” He pulls your pants down, quirking an eyebrow up at you when you don’t lift your hips to allow him to pull them down the rest of the way. You eventually lift your hips up, and you watch Charlie smile to himself. 
“I had to be the one to make the first move.” He laughs, but the humor in it doesn’t allow you in on the joke. 
You expected Charlie to go slow. In the brief moment where he continues pulling your jeans down your legs, you thought he would take his time, prolonging each moment and every movement. But he doesn’t do this. He speeds taking off your pants, throwing them off to the side without much consideration at all. One of the legs almost hits the glass he has on the coffee table, and you watch in horror as it barely misses it. 
Even if the glass was knocked over, you don’t think you would have wasted time to clean the mess up. This was your main priority now. 
There’s no hesitance to his movements. He’s done this before, maybe more recent than you think. 
He’s presented with your cunt, still clothed by the thin layer of your panties. He licks his lips, a small smile tugging up one corner. He doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s noticed how soaked you are, definitely soaked through the cloth.  
He reaches his hand out and pushes his fingertips beneath the waistband of your panties. He pulls them down slowly, presenting your bare cunt agonizing inch by agonizing inch. And then, when he has your panties thrown off to the side, he doesn’t waste anymore time. 
His big hands grip the outsides of your thighs, calloused fingers pressing into the miscellaneous bruises you have. As soon as he finds them, he digs his fingers into the tender spots, holding you still even when you writhe around in his grasp. Charlie keeps you still, his mouth remaining flush against your cunt, not like you’re trying to get away from that. 
The discomfort paired with the pleasure is a new one for you, and you fear that once this is all over, you’ll crave this combination more and more. But you know you won’t ever want it from anyone that isn't him. You only trust Charlie to give it to you like this. 
You trust Charlie to devour you while you sit on your couch, your hands tangling in his dark hair, pushing his nose into the low cut bush that tickles his skin. You trust him to guide you to an orgasm. 
It’s like he’s your pied piper. 
Charlie puckers his lips and sucks, gliding down from your clit to your entrance throughout. He flicks his tongue out, lapping up your essence, and then shallowly inserts the pointed tip into your walls. He flattens his tongue then, nuzzles his nose into your clit, and shakes his head. 
Your nails scratch Charlie’s scalp and he groans right into you. You watch his eyelids flutter, long lashes fanning out, so you repeat it. This time he comes up for air, licking his lips just before he pants into the open air. 
You feel heavenly, but you can’t help but worry that you’re at fault when you let Charlie have you like this. You’re the one who leads a mostly normal life. You never consider the religious implications of lying with a man at night, because that’s not who you were. But Charlie had never suggested that this was the kind of person you were. You were just having trouble figuring out if that was just a falsehood by omission, or if this simply isn’t the man that Charlie usually is, and he’s been turned this way by you. 
Guilt begins to perch on your shoulders, taking the shape of a vulture. It sits at bay for now, but you know it’s there. 
It’s too much for you to handle right now, too much to consider when your brain is mostly fog, so instead you spread your legs a little wider and tighten your hold on Charlie’s hair. 
The heels of your feet dig into Charlie’s back and you feel something beneath his shirt. A form of abrasions, healing skin raised off of his back. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bring your head down so you’re looking at Charlie instead of the raised bumps in your ceiling. You’re about to ask him about it, his name beginning to form on your lips, and then Charlie sucks your clit into his mouth and twists the finger he has in your walls. 
Your orgasm kills the unasked question. 
Charlie grins up at you the entire time; you feel it while you’re noticing the way the corners of his eyes crinkle. 
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The relationship you have with Father Charlie is weird. It’s unorthodox.
You’ve attempted to keep things separated with Father Charlie after that first night. You refuse to address him by just his first name. You’ve kept up with your sessions, but they only happen in the church and never at your home. You’re trying to be considerate of his faith. 
But things aren’t right. 
You still aren’t a confirmed member of the Church, but you find yourself at mixers, knowing the names of the others, even beginning to address the Sisters like you’re one of them. Father Charlie stands at your side the entire time, a smile on his face, a look akin to that of a proud mentor in his eyes. 
Either way, you still find comfort in him, especially when the killer—Grotesquerie is his name, Sister Megan told you one morning over coffee—continues to strike. 
That’s where you find yourself now, seeking comfort from Father Charlie in the center of the otherwise empty church. It’s Wednesday, service will be starting soon and you should be heading out for your shift. But you couldn’t possibly leave and drive on your own without expelling some of your worries. 
“I’m scared, Charlie,” you admit for what feels like the first time, your voice wavering. 
Charlie shushes you. He takes a step closer, circling his arms around your shoulders and running a calloused hand over your hair as he pulls you into his chest. “Don’t be. There’s no reason for you to be scared, okay? He’s not targeting you.”
You shake your head. “How do you know that? You can’t know that.”
“I do. He’s going for sex workers. Remember what Sister Megan said in her article? ‘Women of the night’. That’s not you.”
You are still with your head against his chest, your ear positioned over his heart. The thrum of his heartbeat is steady, something that should be comforting. You can’t be comforted right now, though. “I know but … I just can’t … I can’t–” The words won’t find you, not without your eyes and nose burning at least. 
Charlie inhales, the sound restricted by his teeth. He rocks you side to side, the circle of his arms sliding down to your waist. “Look, if it makes you feel any better, how about I make sure you get home safe? Alright? What time are you off?” 
You shouldn’t have agreed, but you did. 
That night, you lay with Charlie on your couch. Your bed felt too intimate, too inappropriate for a relationship that was not really supposed to be a relationship at all. You try to sleep, and eventually you do. 
You dream of Charlie, standing in the center of your living room, watching you get off. His hands are bloody and his back is scarred. 
When you wake up, he isn’t there. 
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princessbrunette · 15 days ago
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ᡣ𐭩 。ꪆৎ ˚⋅PRINCESSBRUNETTES SCREAM SALON INTRODUCES … ໒꒰ྀི ˃̵ ࿁ ˂̵ ꒱ྀིა
PICTURE YOU ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃
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♩chappell roan — picture you ♩
pairing: pervy pope, jj, john b x reader
cw: sexual fantasies, the pogues being peeping toms, masturbation.
you are responsible for your own media consumption. welcome to kinktober day five. better late than never!
pope knew was he was doing was wrong. you were his neighbour for christs sake.
at the end of the day, he was but a man— and whilst he had no intention of stooping to full pervert level like this, he had slipped up and bragged to the wrong people, AKA — jj maybank, about how his fine ass neighbour had a certain… routine, every friday night… and would leave her bedroom blinds open for it.
the regret fully kicked in when he opened his front door, seeing the excited expression on his two best friends faces.
“no. i shouldn’t have told you.” is how pope greets them.
“dude it’s fine,” jj reiterates, easily moving past him in the entrance to his house with a clap on the shoulder, an only slightly less enthused john b following closely behind with an awkward but willing smile. “we’re not gonna watch. we’re just gonna… like — happen to glance out the window. while she’s flickin’ the bean.”
“thats — that doesn’t make it any more okay.” pope stresses, following his friends up to his bedroom.
“look, she leaves her blinds open right? isn’t that what you said? have you maybe considered that… possibly, and hear me out on this… she wants to be watched?” john b, usually the voice of reason finds it in himself to convince pope just that little more, wide puppy-like eyes doing most of the convincing. he’s probably the only reason pope hasn’t grabbed them both by the scruff of the neck and hauled them out.
the night goes on, and honestly — the perverted plan is nearly forgotten about until their attention is brought to the window just across from popes, the lamp switching on as you arrived home from work. john b swivels on popes desk chair, nodding his head toward the sight with a whistle.
“oop, shows starting.”
“honey, i’m home.” jj sings out in a high pitched voice, excited for what’s to come.
“you’re so much better than this, john b.” pope deadpans, double taking at jj as he switches off the lights to the bedroom sending them all into darkness. “what the hell?”
“do you wanna get caught creepin’ on your neighbour? no? didn’t think so.”
“you done this before jayj?” there’s a lilt of teasing to the brunettes voice as his blonde counterpart grabs a seat and drags it up beside him, the young adults gathered as they watch your figure dart around the room going about your nightly activities.
“shh.”
the boys curse, ducking down slightly when you suddenly appear at your window, fingers grazing the blinds. they stay deadly still in the dark, barely even breathing as to not draw attention to the fact they’re gathered round to watch you. you look pensive, hesitant, like you’re about to draw the blinds and shut the world out and yet… you don’t. you back away, leaving them open.
“huh.” pope breathes, glancing at his wavy haired friend.
“likes an audience. interesting.” routledge hums, voice deep and breathy.
you begin to undress, and they swear the air in the room gets thicker. peeling your leggings down your legs like they’d been painted onto you for the day creates an audible reaction from your neighbour and his friends, jj even going as far as to stick his knuckle in his mouth.
“god damn.” he garbles, earning a hum of agreement.
“oh you really lucked out here pope. the only neighbour i ever had was a 70 year old woman. trust me when she left her blinds open you look the other way.” john b doesn’t remove his eyes from the scene as he recounts the anecdote, causing pope to screw up his face.
the truth was, pope did have his own fantasies and perversions. he told himself time and time again, he wasn’t watching. he was at his desk first, you left your blinds open. visions of you at the library you worked at, helping him with research in that little mini skirt he saw you wear once. bending over to rummage shelves, sweet fat crescent of your pussy on display through your panties. pope would have no choice but to take you right there on the table behind the bookshelves, the two of you trying to stay quiet as he disappears between your thighs, seeking out that sweet nectar…
when he snaps out of it, you’re already on the bed, in perfect eyeshot of the window. just you, that dim lamp that made your skin seem to glow, an oversized tshirt and some panties.
“you guys don’t feel wrong doing this?” pope speaks in a hushed voice like you might be able to hear.
“how could something so right be so wrong, my friend?” jj pulls out a joint to stick into his mouth, only to have it plucked from his lips and tossed aside by the heyward boy.
“i’m drawing a line.”
“alright, that’s fair.”
“you guys are missing it.” john b hums, entranced by the way you palm at your tits through the top, eyes fluttering shut as your body starts to relax into the bed. “putting on a show for us.”
silence falls upon them finally as they stare, your hands trailing down to lift the hem of your shirt up and over your breasts, massaging the fat and plucking at the nipples.
“oh wow.” pope breathes, jj breaking out into a grin.
“this is some american pie shit right here.”
“grow up.”
“i’m just saying.”
it seems like forever before your hands reach down to your panties, fingers gingerly dusting over the thin fabric of what appears to be baby blue panties with a pink bow at the top centre. jj even swears he can see the gloss of your arousal on your open thighs from where he’s sat. you begin to rub yourself through the material, teasingly and you pull your bottom lip beneath your teeth, sucking in a breath.
“th’atta girl.” john b murmurs, and the air in the room suddenly feels too hot, too stifling. it wasn’t this hot five minutes ago.
“its like i… can’t look away.” pope justifies in just above a whisper, finally perching down to a more comfortable view, watching the way your head tosses side to side, back arching just that little bit as you try and find a better angle. patience leaves you, and you’re pulling the panties off all together.
“would you look at that.” jj marvels, before glancing at his two friends. “y’all mind if i jerk off real quick?”
“what?” pope screws up his face, and john b glances at him.
“yeah, uh. i mind.”
“it can’t wait?” pope adds, shaking his head and jj throws up his hands.
“i thought that’s what we were doing’ here alright my bad!” he dodges john b’s disapproving swat, eyes wide. “oh that’s where you draw the line? y’all are not real freaks.”
“no.” john b shakes his head, pope chiming in with a “thank god.”
but as their attention lands on you once more, your fingers sinking into that glossy hole — they begin to really reconsider their choice.
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prettyboykatsuki · 2 months ago
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KINKTOBER DAY 2: ISAGI YOICHI + VOYEURISM.
♡ tags ; afab + gender neutral reader (reader wears panties + has boobs. no gendered language), implied noncon voyeurism (noncon to dubcon), roomate au, mutual masturbation, aged-up characters, 18+
♡ wc ; 1.2k (keeping this short was . hard)
♡ a/n ; one of two pieces for @ficsforgaza ! i have another one out for the 19th.
its only been two days but i miss my pookies immensely. i spend so much time on here my day has felt quiet af without it lol. but no being here until the 14th 😔😔
♡ synopsis ; isagi can't help but take advantage of the fact you keep forgetting to close the door.
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It was never his intent to make a habit of it.
The first time was an accident. A late realization that you hadn’t shut the door to your bedroom completely when you got out of your bath, door slightly ajar. When he went to be a half-decent room mate - you were bent over and naked, damp skin and wet hair right in his line of vision. The first time he ever saw what you kept concealed under baggy clothes and long sweatpants. His hand dropped to his side just before he could turn the knob and silently signal that he’d closed it. It was well past midnight when you took your shower, and he’s usually not home. He didn’t figure there’d be any point in announcing it so he was going to close the door.
He was just going to close the door.
Maybe you figured he wouldn’t be home and didn't bother. Maybe you didn’t sense him. But he stayed there for the duration of your post bath routine - half-hard and chest heaved, guilt weighing on his conscience as your fingers smoothed lotion into your skin. As you bent over to reach for your clothes, showing off whats between your legs before you slid your shorts on to go to sleep. He only left after he was sure you were done, crept quietly to his bedroom as not to alert you.
When he came back to his room, he mostly felt ashamed. He did his usual routine, turned off the lights, and went to bed. Laid in the dark with his heart pounding and a dull throb between his legs. He absolved the feeling by assuring to himself that it would be one off and using that to lull himself asleep.
You’re roomates, so you saw each other the next morning like normal. Ate breakfast, talked before he went back to practice, asked if he would be home for dinner and if he would - what he wanted to eat. He pushed it out of the forefront of his mind when he had to reply. Managed to act normal.
But when he’d left for practice, he was dizzy with lust. Knowing all your curves and outlines and stretchmarks made him so hard he could barely stand, back to the door of your apartment with his heart up in his throat.
He went to practice to sweat it off, worked extra hard to push it out of his mind. He'd done that for weeks.
It worked until he inevitably came home to you every night - until he started to take notice of how often you make these little careless mistakes. It was an accident at best. You had no idea he’d seen you that way. Or that every time you bent over to reach for something, he pictured bare legs and soft cunt on display - something arousing about even your most innocuous gestures.
He didn’t intend to make a habit of it, but he couldn’t get it off his mind. You didn’t know. He liked that you didn't know. You smiled, spoke, laughed with him as usual. Nothing had to change between you or be ruined, if he got to curb any stronger desires by letting himself look when he wasn’t supposed too.
Isagi learns almost against his will, you frequently leave your door slightly open when he’s not supposed to be home. He starts coming home earlier just to affirm it.
You’re not always naked, but sometimes you are - in which he always stays to watch you until you dress. Most other times, you’ve taken your pants off and you lay on your stomach, with your ass facing the door. He usually stays to see that too. Your panties are always thin and cute - and rarely cover up what he's most interested.
He never risks doing anything about it in the door way. He always waits until he’s back in his room. Shuts his door, leans against it with the clothes he wears to practice still on - shirt clamped between his teeth as he rubs his cock raw to the sight of you. Dizzy with want, despite himself. Hard enough for one time to not be enough.
Until now, he’s never gotten so lucky as to catch you masturbating, which is also why he’s never risked doing the same - only a few feet away.
Isagi feels his chest grow tight with want as he watches you through the crack of you’re door. A towel underneath you as you ride a silicone toy with your ass up and face down. You’ve got something else pushed against your clit, a vibrator whirring as your hips buck up every time you move back down.
You’re at an angle so you can lay forward on a pillow, arm underneath with your face pressed into it. It’s not enough to muffle the noise as you move your hips on instinct, rocking up and down to get the right pace as you fuck yourself.
Isagi is so fucking hard. So hard, he can barely breathe. His hand is wrapped around his cock without shame, arousal making him lightheaded as he watches you slowly move against it - moaning loudly. He can see everything. How wet you are, how your soft cunt clings so tight to the silicone toy, how your arms shake as you hold the vibrator at an angle to make sure it keep contact with your over sensitive clit.
You make yourself cum once. Slam your hips down, tensed thighs trembling as your free hand holds onto the sheet underneath you. He slows his hand, takes a deep breath and waits for you to stop before he turns to leave.
But you only pause, brief - to let yourself take in some air before turning up the intensity and fucking yourself even harder.
Isagi barely suppresses a groan. He spits quietly into the palm of his hand and fists his shaft - fucking his fist as he watches you fuck yourself again and again. You look pretty when you get off, sound even prettier - moaning soft until you get closer to your peak again and gradually get louder. He pictures joining. Replacing your toy with his cock until you’re bent over with your face in the bed - his hand holding up your vibrator so he can feel you cum on his cock again and again. How nice and wet your pretty pussy would be squeezing the cum from him, how deep he’d fuck himself inside of your tight hole like he’s been imagining for all the months he’s been watching you. He doesn’t have to touch you to know your pussy would be so perfect for him. Doesn’t have to guess what you would look like - tits bouncing as you ride his dick and whine his name.
He’s so busy thinking about it, he thinks hearing his name slip from your mouth as you push yourself to the edge twice is nothing more than a fantasy. An illusion of his own desire.
But then he hears it again, a lot louder - as you tense, just before cumming again.
“Isagi,” You whine. His cock twitches hard, eyes blown wide as your hips halt to a stutter. “Shit, shit - Isagi, I’m cumming,”
Isagi cums in his hands instantly. Shoots thick, hot ropes of it into his fingers - barely catching it before it can hit your fucking door. His breathing erratic, heart beating hard against the cage of his ribs. Fuck. There’s no way… right?
He looks up again, to see if you’re going to stop. Or to affirm it isn’t an illusion.
And he swears you lock eyes right through the door.
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domoriu · 30 days ago
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perv bsf!bonedo
req - could you imagine bonedo as your bestfriend and theyre lowk freaky and a perv for you
warnings: the boys are kinda (really) icky, 18+ mdni !! panty stealing/sniffing, non consented recording, manipulation? idk… also ty @tsandoll for helping me w some of these 🫶🏽 the rest of the members under the cut !! <3
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sungho
super subtle about it
youd never guess he was so pervy
everyone else around you guys would definitely know sungho had some sort of crush on you, but you’re oblivious to it and think its just him being a gentleman and good friend
buys you whatever you want, will even buy you clothes if you talk about needing some new outfits. ends up dressing you up the way he likes and gets turned on seeing you in the outfits he bought for you
“do you think this looks good?” and he’s nodding and trying his best to not pop a boner in front of you
you’re at a party? sungho is gonna be your plus one. he doesn’t even care about your complaints about him “scaring the hoes” cuz you get touchy when you get under the influence and he’s going to be there for you and enjoy the next few hours of you clinging to him
he even lowkey sabotages any relationship you could possibly have, tells people you two are dating/fucking and leaves you to wonder why none of the people you’ve been interested in ever pay you any mind.
when he comes to your house he has to fight the urge to sniff all of your clothes and your sheets. you just smell so good to him, and he knows if he gets a hard enough whiff he might get hard.
when he jerks off, he’s imagining its your hand, he’s imagining what your mouth would feel like wrapped around him, and he imagines how you’d look taking his cock.
goes through your messages together with his phone in hand while the other one is wrapped around his cock, playing back the voice messages you’ve sent him before to help him get off. then once he’s cum to the thought of you he’s calling you and talking to you like nothing happened.
riwoo
shy boy. its a little more obvious that he’s a little pervert, and you’re using that to your advantage.
he’s acting really innocent but he knows exactly what he’s doing. he just might be a little clumsy with it, which is ultimately how you figured out his perv agenda.
gets hard so fast, and you constantly touching him doesn’t help his case at all
you invite him over, he’s running to your bathroom to quickly jerk off. he tries to be quiet, but he fails miserably.
“riwoo? are you okay in there?” you’re smirking behind the door and he doesn’t even realize how obvious it is that he’s in there getting himself off, and by the way he stutters a weak “y-yeah im fine!” you know exactly what he’s doing.
he’s a bed/pillow humper. when you two have sleepovers, and you fall asleep before him, he’s putting a pillow over his dick and softly thrusting into it, even sometimes he’ll do that when you’re awake, just really slowly and subtly so you dont notice. but when you’re asleep, he’s more shameless. eagerly humping the pillow or even humping the mattress while he stares at your sleeping body.
sometimes he’ll just jerk off as fast as he can, staring at your figure while you sleep. he’s edging himself, each time your body twitches or you turn in your sleep he stops touching himself, so close to cumming but he doesn’t want to get caught. he cums quick the nights you wear something loose or something more revealing, because he can move the fabric to see exactly what he needs to get to his climax.
whatever he does while you’re asleep you’re not aware of, but you know that you catch him staring a little too hard at your cleavage sometimes or catch him looking at your ass
touchy with you and he tries to say its just friendly touching, but no friend keeps their hand right at the bottom of their friends back before the curve of their ass, or rests their hands or head on their friends tits when they watch movies.
jaehyun
a little shameless about it, but he’s always scared out of his mind that you’ll find him gross
the flirting he does with you is a bit more flirty than his usual, sometimes leaving you flustered but you mask it well.
“a little kissing never hurt a friendship” while he looks at you with his big puppy eyes. all you can do is stare at him and laugh because no way he’s serious.
“jaehyun… you’re staring at my tits again” “sorry! sorry… they’re just… so nice…” and he’s absolutely not sorry
dirty little panty sniffer. super scared of getting caught though, but he ends up snitching on himself
“definitely wasnt going through your stuff while you were in the bathroom” no one accused you of doing that but if you say so…
touchy as fuck. like youve never met someone as touchy as jaehyun. and you know he means no harm, so you let him cop a feel from time to time
back to the panty sniffing, also a pillow humper. will steal a different pair of your panties each week, ruin them completely and then return them like nothing happened (he’ll wash them first of course, he doesn’t want to get caught)
he even knows about the box you keep in your bedside drawer, the one with your toys in it. jerks off to the thought of you fucking yourself open with your dildo, wishes that he could be the one fucking you instead. wishes he could press your vibrator on your clit while he stretches you out on his cock.
taesan
also a shy perv
but he’s a lot bolder than youd think
thinks with his dick… once his dick twitches his mind goes blank
since he’s tall, he’s definitely using this to his advantage. its a lot easier for him to stare down your shirt with this angle
he might get a little bold sometimes and take a pic under your skirt
has a whole folder of “off guard” photos of you, every time he takes one you’re trying to grab his phone to see the pic but he refuses, telling you that its for his eyes only and that youll try to delete them - whole time he had taken various panty shots and other body pics
steals your panties, goes through your clothes bin and sniffs them until he feels dizzy and his cock is straining in his pants.
he tries to be subtle about everything and he’s mostly successful, never catching him doing anything out of the ordinary and anything he asks you to do for him doesn’t seem too off putting
if you’re complaining to him about a guy you’ve been talking to, he’s asking you what they do that gives you the ick and what they do that makes you like them a little more
he makes sure you’re comfortable with him always, there’s never been tmi between the both of you so you feel comfortable telling him about your sex stories - he listens super intensely, and at night he’s humping his mattress at the thought of fucking you just the way you like, because he knows he’d be better than any of the guys youve been fucking
he’s also cumming loudly with your name leaving his lips repeatedly. he wishes he could send you a pic of his stomach covered in his cum and tell you that you’re the reason he came so much
having trouble deciding what type of revealing pics to send to a guy? taesan is telling you that you should send it to him first, so he can tell you from a guys perspective if its good, and will definitely ask you for multiple pictures for “options”
he couldn’t care less what you sent to someone else, as long as he always got access to the pics first and he was definitely going to be jerking off to them later.
leehan
another shameless perv… but he’s really shameless - he’s touchy, he compliments you, he even purposely tries to get you flustered
once he gets the reaction he wants out of you he’s just laughing, and he’ll go back to doing the same thing over and over
lets you believe he’s just joking around with you, even though he’s so serious
“can i eat you out as a friend?” “leehan stop, you play around too much” and there was absolutely no hint of joking around in his voice
whenever you stay over at his place he tells you that you can leave your old clothes with him, that he’ll wash them for you so you have clothes when you come over
before he washes them he’s definitely jerking off with your panties, he might even put them in his mouth cuz he’s a sick freak like that….
and whenever you two are on the phone he’s most likely going to jerk off to the sound of your voice
“leehan, are you okay?” “m’fine, just keep telling me about your day” and he has to mute his mic when he cums - might be a little bold and let you hear it
with him being touchy, anyone would think you were a couple with how comfortable he was touching you however he pleased - seriously, why was he gripping your ass in the middle of the store?
pet names!! darling, princess, he’ll even call you a good girl sometimes just to gauge your reaction. might ask you to grab something for him and he’s like “such good girl for me” and you’re left feeling hot all over and confused about your feelings (even if leehan was insanely straightforward)
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bigfatbimbo · 2 months ago
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I love you like an Alcoholic
2.1k words,, Bill x Reader
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a/n — You did it, you saved the town.
warnings — NSFW, dom!reader, sub!Bill, toxic relationships, book of bill time era, orgasm denial, ambiguous superpowers, NOT PROOFREAD**
summary — Bill goes to his incredibly powerful (moreso than him) business partner, you, to try to get him out of theraprism. Things take a turn.
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“I had to pull a lot of strings for this Bill,” you cross your legs and lean back in your thrown. 
Bill straightens his bow-tie, “Well toots, what if I told you I can make it worth your while?”
You breathe and then get up from your chair, “I’d tell you to stop floating in my lair. It’s distracting.”
Snapping your fingers, a bar appears in your otherwise empty room. While pouring yourself a drink, you can feel Bills eye-roll from across the room.
With a tip of his hat, his more human form appears, and sits down at the bar stool next to you. “Better?”
“Could do with more abs.”
He laughs but doesn’t change his appearance, “So, y/n. We go way back, right? I’m not gonna sugar code it, you’ve always been one of my favorites to do business with, doll. Wanna know why?”
“The fact i’m always so interested in what you have to say?”
His eye practically twitched at your indifference. Your attention was never payed in full. “Ha! Don’t flatter your self, pal. No, i’ll tell you why: did you know out of everyone in the galaxy, you’re the only equal I do business with?”
Your eyebrow arches, “equal?”
“Humor me,” he doesn’t give you the chance to reply before continuing. “Now, given my current position in ‘necessary therapy’—“ he makes a point of doing obnoxious air quotes, “—I don’t have much to occupy my days. And we both know i’d be of better use to you out here, right?”
You took another sip of your wine before getting up from the bar and walking over to your throne. The bar disappears behind you, leaving cipher ass-flat on the ground.
“Oh come on—“ His open eye turns red momentarily, before he dusts himself off, “Look, it’s hard being a god, y/n, I know that much. With that responsibility, I think a business partner would do you good. And all you’d have to do is bail me out, that’s practically no downside for you at all, buddy.”
Your patience had been wearing thin, and without further consideration you let out a larger grown from your chair, “Cipher, you’re a liability. I don’t want you. I’m honestly struggling to find enjoyment in sharing a drink with you, despite our history.”
A flick of your hand lifts him off his feet and brings him over to you, “Thought you had a no floating policy, eh?” There’s no fear in his voice, but there is in his eye. He’s losing.
“I’m gonna make this clear to you. You’re gonna take your disgusting human form, and you’re gonna march your happy ass back to theraprism, and you’re gonna stay there. Want my advice? Stop being so damn pathetic.”
A portal opens to take him back and he struggles in your invisible grasp, “No, wait! Please, I’ll do anything, just wait!” 
A human form was already a disadvantage, one he’d accepted in order to strike a deal, but a disadvantage still. And he hadn’t had any contact in a long time, aside from various psychiatrists telling him what’s ’wrong with him.’ 
So, you being someone he has history with could have contributed to his annoyingly human problem. Maybe it was the excitement, your attention or the lack there of, but something terrible happened at that moment. 
“Jesus, Bill. You really have hit rock bottom,” You murmur to yourself as you pull his floating body closer to you, your fingers dance around the bulge without touching it.
“Hey, hey, watch it— Your the one that made me have this stupid fleshbag, anyways— cut that out!” He struggled in the air, finding that he just couldn’t turn back into his normal form. You’re doing, he’d assume. 
To his dismay, you giggle and lean back, “Well now i’m enjoying myself. Now this I could help with, Cipher,”
“Ah, ah pass! Just get me down from here and—“ Back to prison? He’d have to swallow his pride on this one. And besides, it’s not like he wouldn’t like it… “Whatever you want, doll. I’m here all night.”
You examine him further, “Is that so?” 
Before he can answer, you drop him to his knees in front of you. “Ow! Careful with the merchandise, sweetheart. I’m not in mint condition these days— ah!”
Your foot presses down lightly on the bulge in his pants, and your fingers grab onto his chin, “Been a minute since we’ve done this. Huh, Cipher?”
He nods, going to say something, before you interject, “So i’d be good if I was you, baby.”
You press down on his hard-on with more pressure, watching Ciphers face flicker, biting his lip, before letting on a whimper. 
Despite not being his first encounter, so to speak, with you of this nature, it never failed to eat as his pride. And furthermore, despite this, it felt good. If Bill was anything, he was selfish. He could admit he was letting it happen for himself, instead of in spite of himself. So it can’t be that humiliating?
But in this position, there’s always shame.
“Y/n — give me a break—“ He breathed, eye twitching. 
You rolled your eyes and snapped your fingers, with that, his pants were gone and his dick was exposed. That’s another thing he could do without: your unpredictability 
“Next time, say please. Asshole.” You say, lifting him up with your powers once more.
“Wow, buddy. I’m not the one being the jerk here—“ It came out quick, as Bill words often did. But these ones he regretted immediately.
Your eyebrows furrowed, “Tough crowd?” He felt a sensation tugging at the base of his dick, indicating the start of mind games that wouldn’t end anytime soon.
He backtracked. Play it off. “Yeesh, you’re a tough crowd! Did I say jerk? You heard me wrong, I meant lovely— Ah, wait! Wait!”
A wave of pleasure flooded his senses abruptly, followed by a short pinch of pain, similar to what a mortal feels when they prick their finger on a piece of metal. Does that happen a lot? They’re all so clutsy, can’t be that out of the ordinary—
“Smooth talk your way out and maybe I’ll lighten the blow, yeah?” You smile cruelly, hand dangling out, flexing as if teasing what you could do to him.
“I— I know we’ve had our disagreements but I— augh!” A spike of pain, his eye rolled back a bit, “You— I’ve always admired your work— Yes! Respected you even, you’re an idol, sweetheart, ah, yes!”
With each compliment a burst of pleasure would go through him, landing at his unnatural dick, now leaking with precum. He was nearly babbling, but he was as aware of that as he was aware of the fact it was dearly encouraged.
“Very good, Billy. You’re too sweet, really.” Your voice was smooth and you bit your lip, watching him writhe with pleasure mid-air.
“A-anything for you, toots! Ah, more, more!”
He didn’t notice he said anything wrong this time until it was too late, but your face had noticeably darkened at the statement. 
“That’s awful demanding for someone in your position, dontcha’ think?” You weren’t actually mad, of course you weren’t. But you loved to you with him, and you took every opportunity. One of the reasons Bill tried to avoid you when he could; you were far too similar people, dealing in cruelty for the sake of entertainment.
“Wha- No wait!” The attention to his dick ceased to exist, and he was left with only aching for attention again, despite the fact you never gave anything physical in the first place. 
All mind games. “That’s- That’s not fair!”
“I’d watch who you were talking too, baby,” You flick your hand, spreading out his body parts mid air, hard leaking cock protruding out, crying for any kind of sensation. 
“You know what I can do. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you,” You sigh expectantly.
Bill tried to speak to defend himself, to talk his way out, but he found his ability to gone.
“I can make you do what I want, Cipher. Can make you feel whatever I want. Extraordinary pain—“ He cries out for a split second, eye flashing with fear, “—Or overwhelming pleasure.”
This time his eye rolled back, and he moans in wonderful agony, unable to move expect for wriggling his body parts weakly. His dick twitched.
“You like that feeling?”
He nods weakly, eyes fogging up, letting a small whimper escape.
“Don’t want me to hurt you?” Another nod, “Want me to make you feel good? Think you deserve it?”
“Ah— y/n, I need…” He swallows, revising his words in his mind, “Please, I need this.”
It’s true, Bill had never reached such a low in his entire existence. And he wasn’t sure if this interaction was pushing him further down or making him feel better. Now, however, he was struggling to think.
“Aw, baby. You have taken your punishment well? Been having a rough time too..” Your tone switched to something softer, almost to a condescending note.
His pathetic appearance did him justice, he pretended this was on purpose. 
Either way, a whine slipped from his throat and he shut his eyes, playing into it. You cooed in response, bringing him closer to you in order to run your hand along the side of his cheek. 
A spurt of pleasure shoots through his dick once more, and now he can’t help but yearn for something more. “Touch me— I need it— Please.” He threw in, trying to help his chances, despite the struggle at forming a coherent thought other than need.
“Hm,” You consider. Finally you reach out, running a finger along the base of his cock, to the tip. “You really want me to?”
He nodded desperately, mouth falling open to let out a small whine. Swear bedded his hot, red face, and dripped down, make his multiple chins glisten. Ugh, you preferred him further away. His already greasy looking hair was now slick against his forehead, and his eyes were glazed over. 
You slowly shift all of your fingers onto his shaft and then saintly drag them up and down for the first few strokes. A gutteral whimper falls from Ciphers mouth, “Oh, yes!”
“What do we say, baby?” You ask, grip tightening suddenly as if to bring him back to reality, but not too tight. 
“Ah— Thank you!” He’d almost forgotten to detest you for making him say that. And he’d almost forgotten to remind himself to be mad after he was done feeling good.
He used to daydream about taking you down after these sessions. Rising to power and having you at his feet. But now he only wants to keep your attention on him. Now it’s all he can think about. 
You continue to stroke his leaking cock, leaning in to kiss his cheek fat, “Good boy.”
He moaned, “Don’t do that-“
“I’m not patronizing you. I mean it, you’re acting better than usual and i’m glad. Maybe you’re more desperate, or touch-starved, but you’re doing good. I’m proud of you, sweetheart.”
“Ah—“ He would have came right there if he could. And in the most literal sense, he couldn’t. You weren’t letting him. “Please, let me come. I can’t do this, have mercy, I’ll do anything—“
“I don’t know, I’m having a good time. Why should I?” Another desperate need to release wipes over him, an uncontrollable need that was actively being controlled. 
Despite himself, he teared up. His fingers rose to touch his face, which he realized, was now damp with falling tears, “No, no, no! I can’t- I’ve never- Human bodies— I need to. Please!”
You look at him and smile. 
“I’ve been good,” He reminded you.
With that, you have in. Your other hand moved away to snap your fingers, a gesture that wasn’t need to carry out the action, but to show that he’d earned his reward. 
“Yes! Thank you! Oh gods— Oh-“ He leaned back, finally having the orgasm that was being withheld from him. And god, it felt good.
You felt good, and he hated that. 
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