#do you guys remember that post about how humiliating it is to walk down a hill

[reedilla]

I just hailed a cab for the first time in a while and let me tell you it was so awkward. So humiliating. Oh you want someone to drive you around? You stick your little hand out on the side of the street like a fool and wait for someone to perceive you and pull over? At this point cabs are cheaper than uber but at what cost

[sooniebby]

ఌ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

꧁ 𝙎𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

w.c. › 4.9k

Plot › if you had told yourself six weeks ago, that you would meet the camboy you’ve been faping for a year, you’d laugh. But meeting Gojo was a curse from God. Part 2 of this post!

Warnings › same as before. Gojo is a little shit and very annoying. A bit of dubious consent at first since reader doesn’t say “yes”. Nothing extreme. How yall not notice the porn I linked in p.1 though? Smh

Kinks › size kink, praise, rough sex, lite dry humping, creampie, manhandling, possessive Gojo, groping, brat behavior from reader, lite dom/sub,

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

“Today’s my lucky day, huh?”

Oh, fuck.

You kinda just… stood there for a few seconds, staring at Gojo in shock. Before you screamed out in fear and ran into the back room.

So humiliating.

“Hahaha!!! Put your glass back on, your blue eyes scared (Name)!” Nobara laughed, walking to join you in the back room. Megumi only rolled his eyes.

Nobara found you in a fetal position on the ground, rocking back and forth as she stared at you in shock.

“Okay, I know his eyes are freaky but it couldn’t have been that bad,” she said, kneeling down to get on your level. She ‘comfortably’ patted your hair, twirling a few strands around her index finger.

It took a few minutes before you could really open your mouth.

“I…know…him…”

“How? This is his first time here.”

You sat upright, staring Nobara right in the eyes.

“Camboy.”

Nobara was quiet, her eyes slowly widening as she took in the new information. Her mouth opened as a shriek left her mouth.

“No fucking way?! Him?! You’ve seen his dick?!”

“Nobara!!!”

She lowered her voice. “Him? Really? The one I called a 4 inch? He’s…. The one you had the call with? Holy shit! Do you think he remembers you?”

“Hopefully… not.. but he said it’s his lucky day.. do you think…?”

“Maybe he’s still mad over the four inch comment.”

“Uhm.”

“Or maybe he’s upset that you were a guy.”

“I dunno…”

“Oh! Maybe he wants to fuck you.”

“Oh c’mon. Now you’re just saying shit.” You stood up with a grunt. “If I’m lucky, he was just saying something about getting a discount. Can you do the cake for him? I really don’t wanna talk to him.”

Nobara frowned but didn’t say anything else. She walked away to go do Gojo’s order. It was silent for the most part, the slight muffled voices of Gojo and Nobara talking. Though it seemed Nobara was talking shit about him.

Hopefully, Gojo wouldn’t come here again due to Megumi’s insistence.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“So, can you take my order this time?”

You blinked, staring right at Gojo as he leaned on the counter, grinning at you. It was in the evening and the cafe was mostly empty. So you didn’t feel bad about shaking your head. You had hoped this blue eyed freak would leave you alone but he seemed set on bothering you.

He’d even come on days Megumi wasn’t there yet or was off that day!

You didn’t speak to him directly. Too embarrassed. All you could remember was your desperate moans to know his name. Yup, no way in hell were you going to speak to him.

Nobara came over to the cashier and took over—you didn’t even have to ask. This had been happening for weeks now. Just a simple look was all she needed. Even Inumaki and Megumi knew what to do. Though the two didn’t know why you seemed so adverse to speaking to Gojo.

Megumi believed you hated him for being annoying. He could relate to that.

Inumaki believed Gojo must’ve did something because you hardly hated people.

So he did from time to time purposely put salt in Gojo’s coffee.

And would sometimes put jalapeño seeds into his food.

What could he say? A true friend.

Nobara was the only one to know the truth. And while she did think you were overreacting a bit—she knew how embarrassing your actions were. If you didn’t want to speak to Gojo, so be it. She’s not one to force it.

You were in the back room when Nobara came back, sighing to herself. She plopped down on the chair beside you, staring down at the table before looking over to you.

“That blue eyed slut keeps asking for you it’s annoying.”

“Slut?”

“Affectionately.” She said. “‘Why does he keep ignoring me?’ ‘Why isn’t he speaking to me?’ ‘Let me talk to him.’ ‘Aren’t you his friend?’ Blah blah blaaaah!” She cried, her voice rising in pitch out of frustration as her hands dug into her scalp, moving her hair around.

“What would he even want to talk about?” You whispered to yourself.

“Maybe he’s scared you’re going to tell Megumi.”

“What would I gain from that? The only thing I’ll tell Megumi is to ban him from the cafe.”

Nobara let out a soft huff. “Really though… if he’s making you that uncomfortable, tell Megumi.” She said, her voice suddenly serious. She reached out and rested her hand against yours, squeezing it gently. “You don’t even have to tell Megumi the true reason… he won’t judge. If it comes down to it, we’ll tell Boss.”

She pulled away. Your eyes met hers, a bit shocked at how.. caring she was about the situation. You knew you were overreacting a bit and a normal person would’ve just told Gojo straight up to leave them alone. And you knew she was right.

Megumi wouldn’t judge. He would tell Gojo to stop coming.

But…

It was like you didn’t want him to go for some reason.

In the back of your mind, you truly wanted to know why he kept bothering you.

Was he angry?

Scared you’d tell people?

Well… it couldn’t be good either way.

You just hoped he’d get tired of you soon.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The sound of loud music was beating with your heart as you leaned against the wall. You, Nobara, and a begrudged Megumi were at a newly opened gay club in Shibuya. It was cool for like the first two hours but now your social battery was practically dead.

Megumi was somewhere… you remembered him saying he needed some fresh air.

Nobara was having the time of her life with some girls on the dance floor. Good for her.

You were dressed way more conservatively than most of the people at the club. Just a t-shirt and pants. You weren’t someone to dress up like that. As you drowned your drink and placed it on the bar counter, you asked for some water.

No one was approaching you which was great. You didn’t know if you could handle talking to someone right now.

But that soon changed when someone was suddenly right beside you.

A taller guy, black hair and brown eyes. He seemed to be looking for one thing. You didn’t look his way at first, believing he was just getting a drink until a shot glass was slid over to you.

“What’s a pretty boy like you doing here all alone?”

Typical…

You forced a slight smile. “I’m here with friends. No thanks.” You said, sliding the shot back over to him. He shrugged and took it himself, downing in seconds.

It was quiet for a moment, even though the music still roared in the background. “Would your friends mind if I steal you for a little bit?” He suddenly asked, his lips right near your ears. You flinched but couldn’t help but grin in response.

“Why? Where are you going to take me?”

“Wherever you’d like, baby.” His hand slowly trailed down your shoulders to your hips, lightly squeezing before his finger teased the slight opening in your pants. Since you were so touch starved and the last time a man ever touched you was a hundred years ago, you didn’t push him away at first.

So what? You were desperate at this point.

Dildos get lonely…

“Mhm, I don’t—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence because suddenly the man was… gone? You blinked rapidly before looking around in confusion. Huh?! As you reeled in shock at how fast a man could just disappear, you felt a tug at the belt loop of your pants before the hand grasped it entirely and pulled you out of the club.

“Who?! Dude, you’re going to rip my fucking pants off! Get—”

The fresh air slapped you in the face before you were harshly pushed against the wall of the alleyway. Your eyes saw dark spots before you could fully open them, ready to scream bloody murder before you saw who attacked you.

Fucking Gojo!

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you looked away. No way he found you here! Did Megumi tell him? Nobara? No, they’d never do that to you. Oh… he was a fucking stalker!

But you didn’t get to accuse him as he grabbed your face and forcefully turned it so you would look him in the eye. No, your cock didn’t twitch. You’re just horny.

You didn’t speak. More so just because you knew it pissed him off that you weren’t. So you only gave him your meanest glare and closed your eyes, knowing he wouldn’t pry them open. Only to be wrong because apparently Gojo has no sense of boundaries.

He did force open one of your eyes and you quickly slapped his hand away. Fuck that felt weird. You looked at him shock, the fuck was his problem?

But you weren’t going to speak first! No way. You were going to be petty until the day you died.

Gojo was silent for a moment before groaning, deciding he had to be the one doing the talking.

“What’s your problem?”

“My—?!” You clamped your lips shut. He almost got you there. You reached up and began pushing at his chest but you didn’t even make him budge. Gojo rolled his eyes and grabbed your wrists, with one hand, and pushed them against the wall, right above your head.

“You avoid me like I killed your entire family. What the hell did I do?”

You pursed your lips and shook your head. For the next few minutes, it was Gojo spouting questions and you acting like a child being asked if they were the one who drew on the wall. It would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so stupid.

It took a moment before Gojo was finally giving up. He sighed as his hand released his grip on your wrists. You watched as he pulled away and suddenly, you didn’t want him to do that.

So without thinking, you grabbed the belt loops of his pants and pulled him close. Gojo’s eyes widened, his hands quickly moving to rest on either side of you so he didn’t crush into you. You didn’t like the sad look on his face.

But you were about to regret it as his signature smirk appeared. He leaned in close, his mouth pressing against your ear. His light chuckle sent a shiver down your spine, making you unintentionally arch your back.

“I see how it is… you’re into being a brat, huh?”

You shook your head violently, biting your lip. Okay, you were certainly playing into it. But it was the reason your ex broke up with you so you didn’t exactly like the word used in regards to you.

Something something ex boyfriends suck

You gasped as his leg was shoved between yours, rubbing right against your crotch. It happened so fast you couldn’t even think straight.

“I asked you question. Answer.” He said, pulling away so you could see his face. His blue eyes stared straight into yours, making you squirm in embarrassment. You kept remembering the incident. Cumming just from seeing his face.

Gosh, who can say they’ve done that?!

The only sense of light in the alleyway was the moonlight and the blinking neon sign of the club. It would occasionally light up Gojo’s face and you felt your cock twitch when you got a clear view. His eyes staring you down. Jaw tight. His lips no longer in a smirk. You didn’t know he could look so serious.

His eyebrow raised a bit when you didn’t answer. You wanted to see what he’d do and he was quick to show you. His leg began to rub your crotch but it was slow—way too slow for you to get anything from it. It felt like a taste to what you could truly get if you acted like a good boy.

As your cock began to twitch, straining against your pants, he stopped. You whimpered, staring up at him with pity as he tilted his head.

You knew what you had to do to get what you wanted.

“N…no…” You whispered, shaking your head. He let out a sigh, a hand moving away from the wall as it harshly gripped your face, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“I don’t like liars. Tell me the truth. What happened to the good boy on the call, huh? The one who listened and put on a nice show for me.”

You bit your lip and closed your eyes, not wanting to look him in the eyes. When you felt his hand squeeze your cheeks, you slowly opened them only to see him looking at you with worry.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked.

Did you?

Did you want to stop?

You reached up and placed your hands on his shoulder, leaning up on your toes to press a soft kiss on his lips. It was soft, way too soft compared to the debauchery you two were just participating in.

Gojo eagerly kissed you back, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer. He kissed you as if he was hungry. Like if you were to pull away, he’d miss his chance. You moaned into the kiss as he grasped your ass, gripping it tightly before moving downward to grab your legs and hoist you up.

He slammed you against the wall, never pulling away from the kiss as you gripped his hair for some sort of purchase. The innocent kiss you had given him was leaning to pure lust.

His teeth biting your lips, earning little gasps from you. You’d never kissed a man like this before. But even though it was pure lust, you somehow felt loved.

“Ahem..”

You both froze. Gojo was still biting at your lip as you both glanced to your right to see a pissed off Megumi.

“I called you to take me home, not fuck my friend.”

Gojo pulled away, though his hand still held you up, “Megumi~~ sorry! I just got caught—”

“—fucking my friend? C’mon, I found Nobara.” Megumi stormed away while you felt like jumping off the nearest bridge.

Jesus Christ!! You might as well replace your middle name with “Embarrassment!”

Gojo only chuckled slightly as he pulled out his car keys and placed it in your hand. He gently placed you back on your feet. “Go to the car, I’ll join you guys in a minute.”

“What are you doing?”

He simply smirked. “Taking out some trash.”

He was so weird…

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Nobara was conked out in the spare bedroom while Megumi slept on a futon in the same room. Gojo had driven you three to his apartment. It was actually quite nice. You wondered what his actual job was because you knew being a cam boy couldn’t actually pay that well.

While Gojo was looking for some spare clothes for you, you decided to take a look around. You found his office and instantly knew this was where he did his cams. It was surreal seeing it in person.

As you closed the door, you shrieked when you came face to face with Gojo. He was smirking, handing you a pair of pajamas he found that could possibly found you.

“How was it?”

“How was what?”

He rolled his eyes. “The room. Better in person?”

You simply let out a huff. “Where’s the bathroom? I’ll change in there.”

“No need—change in my room. You’ll be sleeping there anyway.”

And then he just walked to his room. You stood there for a moment, mouth agape. Sleep? Sleeping? In there? His room?!

If there wasn’t two people already sleeping you would’ve screamed.

You slowly followed behind him, unable to stop the steady rise of your heartbeat. Your stomach felt weird, slightly churning as you thought about what could happen. But it didn’t feel like anxiety, more so like excitement. Though you couldn’t fight back the slight feeling of nausea.

You haven’t slept with someone in over a year.

And Gojo was so experienced.

Would he compare you to others?

Would you disappoint him?

You suck at giving blowjobs, haven’t gotten out of the habit of not using teeth. Your ex complained about that all the time.

Has he even fucked a guy before?

All these thoughts rushed in your head before you bumped right into something. You glanced up, grinning shyly as Gojo raised an eyebrow. His hands gripped your shoulder as he leaned down a bit to look you right in the eye.

“What’s wrong? Nervous?”

You couldn’t find it in yourself to lie. So you mutely nodded.

Gojo chuckled slightly, his hand moving up to lightly caress your cheek. “Don’t be. I’ll lead.”

His hand slowly slid down, his thumb lightly teasing your lips. It pulled down at your bottom lip before he switched to his index and middle finger. They pushed your lips apart before inching their way inside your mouth. It took a moment for you to not push them out—getting used to the odd feeling of them.

Slowly, you lightly suckled on them, closing your eyes to try and keep calm. More than likely, he was going to finger you open. And you felt your cock twitch at the thought.

You almost completely lost yourself, not even noticing the stuttered breath Gojo let out. Your eyes opened slightly, looking up at him hooded eyelids. He almost looked possessed. His throat bobbed as his lips pulled into a slight snarl.

You pulled away, taking his fingers out of your mouth. “What’s wrong…?”

“I wish it didn’t take me so long to fuck you.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“Jeez, you’re tight, (Name), you don’t stretch yourself often?”

The sound of your muffled whimpers was filling the room, moonlight seeping through the curtains as you tried to keep still. You were sitting on Gojo’s lap, your legs spread open as he fingered you. His fingers stretched you deeper than you thought was possible.

Your back pressed against his chest as you had your hand clamped around your mouth. You only imagined his hands inside you. Especially during his streams. It was almost like a fantasy that it was happening right now.

That he actively sought after you.

“If they weren’t here,” he muttered, most likely referring to Megumi and Nobara, “I wouldn’t have allowed you to hide those pretty little sounds.”

You felt yourself blush.

He finds your moans pretty?

If you weren’t too busy moaning, you would’ve been giggling.

His fingers stretched you slowly and methodically, rubbing against your wet walls as if searching for something. You wondered if he was having trouble reaching your prostate. So you shuffled a bit, thinking maybe it was the angle you were sitting in that was giving him trouble.

“Uncomfortable?” He suddenly asked, his fingers stopping.

“Oh.. no… thought you… were having trouble reaching my.. uhm, prostate.”

“I wasn’t. I know where it is.” You felt his finger brush against it, causing you to whimper. “I’m avoiding it on purpose.”

“W..why..?”

A light chuckle left him as he rested his chin on your shoulder, looking down at your nude lower half. He hummed slightly, his free hand trailing downward to tease your leaking cock. It was still taking you some getting used to being fully nude while he was still dressed.

“Because of this.”

Suddenly, his fingers began to harshly target your prostate. Rubbing and teasing it relentlessly. Your body arched against him, toes curling as you screamed out. It was inhumane at how he was able to keep the fast pace with just his fingers.

No wonder those girls in the video practically screamed when he fingered them.

His free hand grasped your cock, thumb lightly teasing your sensitive tip. The constant between the harsh thrusts and slow, sensual movements on your cock was something you never felt before. Your hands gripped at everything beneath you—bedsheets, your leg, but soon found purchase gripping his thigh.

Wow, how often does he work out?

You couldn’t dwell too much on it as you began to feel the familiar sensation in your body. Your cock leaking pre-cum all over your tummy. But just as you almost reached your peak, it was over.

His fingers pulled out.

“Wha…?” You muttered, chest heaving as you glanced over at him.

Gojo only patted your thighs before motioning for you get off. You hesitantly stood up, legs feeling entirely like jelly as you watched him pull down his pants, his cock sprinting out.

It was huge.

That seven inch dildo certainly came in handy…

His cock was possibly close to eight. Seeing it in person was different from any video or live stream. The veins and just how much thicker it was.

“Condom.” He whispered, pointing at the nightstand beside the bed. He began to lightly stroke his cock, spreading the pre-cum leaking from his tip.

You didn’t move to get the condom. He didn’t use condoms when fucking those girls. Why did he need to use one with you?

There was some weird surge of jealousy within you. And it wasn’t because he fucked other people.

It was because he wasn’t going to cum inside you.

Well, what if you wanted that?

“Mhm, no.” You replied, pushing his hand away from his cock.

Gojo raised an eyebrow at this, watching as you moved to sit down on his lap. You grasped his cock and placed it right between your ass, lightly teasing your puckered hole. Your free hand gripping tightly at his shoulder, balancing yourself a bit.

“You cum in all those girls.” You whispered, smirking slightly as you leaned in. “What if I want it too?”

A laugh left Gojo as his hands reached over and grasped your waist, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. You were sure this was going to leave a mark. Any sort of control you just tried to hold was pushed away by Gojo.

“Aw~ it’s okay, baby. You’ll be replacing those girls, no need to think about ‘em anymore.”

“Wh—?”

You screamed out as he pulled you down onto his cock. Your face squinted in pain as you whimpered and squirmed, trying to get used to his cock. It was different seeing it than feeling it stretch you whole. No wonder he spent a good amount of time stretching you out.

Gojo kept his grip on you tight as he bounced you up and down on his cock. You didn’t get no say in how he got to use you. Your voice filled the room, you forgot all about keeping quiet by this point.

“Ngh, sorry, hate this position.”

You didn’t even get to answer him back when you were suddenly picked up from off his cock and dropped onto the bed. You were now on your knees as he got behind you. His cock teased your hole for just a moment before he slammed right back inside.

Your face squished against the bed as his hands moved downward, gripping your ass tightly as he began massaging it. His cock stretched you fool, easily rubbing against your prostate with each thrust.

It was better than any dildo.

“You don’t even know… how much I masturbated to your moans,” he suddenly said.

You almost didn’t hear him at first. “H..hng..?”

“I recorded the sound of your moans during the call. How could I not when it made me cum so fast,” he reached down, pressing his chest against your back. He angled his hips against your ass and began thrusting again, his cock continuously rubbing right against your prostate.

You tried to say something but the only sound that left you was cries of pleasure. The sounds of skin slapping and your whimpers filled the room.

It was weird, totally. But…

You’d look past it.

Dick too good, y’know?

“Then you came from just seeing my face.” He chuckled slightly. “Knew I couldn’t let you get away but you blocked me everywhere.”

He pulled away slightly, his thrusting coming to a pause. You whimpered in disappointment, glancing back at him. Gojo grinned slightly as he grabbed your arms, pulling them back a bit before sliding down to grasp your hands.

The position wasn’t comfortable at all, having your hands behind your back. You couldn’t hold up your face anymore, being forced to just let it lay on the sheets.

“Imagine my luck when I saw you again. You’re prettier in person.” His hips slammed against your ass, earning a scream from you. But he didn’t move again, leaving you to calm down from the harsh thrust.

“But then you ignore me.” He muttered. “Thought I was going to have to give up on you… but today was my lucky day. Just had to throw that guy away and you were mine.”

You felt your cock twitch.

His?

You were his.

He released his grip on your hands and pulled out again. You didn’t even get to whine this time as you were flipped onto your back, staring at him now. He crawled over you, his cock easily sliding back inside. You wrapped your legs around his waist to hold him close.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours…” You whispered, “won’t… run away anymore… promise.”

Gojo grinned slightly as he leaned down to press a kiss on your forehead. His hand patted your head, his finger twirling a strand of your hair. Seeing him like this, so soft compared to his camboy persona was out of a dream.

“I’ll be nice—since it’s our first.” He sat back, his hands reaching down to rest on the curve of your hips.

As he began to slowly thrust inside of you, you couldn’t help but sigh. It felt nice. The soft rhythm of his cock going in and out. But it soon started to pick up, his grip tightening on your hips. You whimpered, gripping at his chest as you wondered how this was going to go.

“G-Gojo?!”

“Hm?”

“H…how is this nice..?!” You managed to moan out.

His hips slammed against your ass, the sound of skin slapping together returning in harmony with your moans.

“This is my nice.” He grinned.

Fucking asshole!

His hand moved up and gripped one of yours, tangling it into a handhold. Your hand was practically engulfed by his. Crap, he was making you feel crazy.

“You know my name now, so scream it.”

You gasped in shock, suddenly remembering when you had whined in the call about not having a name to moan. Your back arched as his pace somehow picked up even more, his hips slamming into you with a force you questioned was human.

If this was his nice… you didn’t want to know what his mean was.

Okay—that was a lie, you definitely wanted to know.

You started to moaning his name which soon turned into screams. Your cock spurted pathetically on your stomach, coating it with your cum. But he didn’t stop. He kept his rough pace as he used you for his own release.

His last thrusts practically took your breath away as he pushed deep inside of you. The only sound left was your gasps as he cummed, coating your insides.

Your hand was still entangled with his and he didn’t seem to want to let go. As he pulled out, cum slowly leaked out of you, coating the bedsheets beneath you. He laid down beside you, wrapping his free arm around your waist as he tugged you closer.

It was silent for a moment, only your heavy breathing as you tried to calm down. Gojo buried his face in your neck, humming slightly. The moonlight shined down on you both through the windows, illuminating his white hair beautifully.

As your eyes felt heavy, you cuddled closer to him and fell asleep with a smile.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“I can’t believe you.”

You and Gojo sat kneeling on the floor in front of a disappointed Nobara and Megumi.

“I can believe Gojo… but (Name)…” Megumi whispered, shaking his head as he looked at you.

Nobara sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “I thought he was killing you at first. Can you imagine the horror of hearing you scream in the middle of the night?!”

You froze, glancing up at Nobara. “Did you…?”

“Head back down!” She yelled, you quickly obeyed. “And yes, I did see Gojo fucking you! So traumatizing.” She whined, wiping at her imaginary tears.

“I wish I didn’t hear it.” Megumi muttered.

“So, were you guys role playing or something?! Why did you act like you hated him for almost two months straight?!” Nobara asked, staring right at you.

You pursed your lips, keeping your head down. “Uhm… I dunno… I just…”

Gojo grinned. “It was a brat tamer role play!”

“I didn’t need to know that!” Nobara screamed, covering her ears as she began to sing to herself as she ran away to the kitchen. Megumi only gave you another disappointed look, one that reminded you of a mother, before glaring daggers at Gojo.

“You still can’t bother me at work.” He said before walking away.

Gojo simply laughed, standing up. He stretched as he held out a hand to help you up. “Don’t mind Megumi, he’ll get over it.”

You nodded with a pout, hoping he was right. As you moved to go join Megumi and Nobara in the kitchen, Gojo suddenly grabbed your hand. He pulled you close, pressing his lips against your ear.

“I wasn’t lying about you replacing the girls, I wanna show you off.” He whispered before releasing you. He gave you his signature cocky smirk before walking away to go bother Megumi some more.

You stood there for a moment, reeling in shock.

Show… you… off…?

Did he mean…?

Holy fuck.

He wanted to make videos with you!

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

No part 3, stop bugging me

Tag list: @teyvat-writer @tehyunnie @the-ultimate-librarian @kiiyoooo @mello-life69 @iwishtobeacrow @remdayz @ofclyde @smellwell @flurrina @tomoeroi @star-3214 @rhetorical-conscience @honey-valentin3 @byul9158 @xiaovrsven7ti @vivian-555 @huboi @a-purple-person

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (Part 3)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie

Part 3 A tragedy 

So enraptured with Alastor, you forgot how you left work on Saturday. Tommy didn’t forget. And he made sure you remembered. Unfortunately for him, and fortunately for you, your paramour made a habit of helping quicken karma’s balancing act.

「warnings/promises: immediate physical assault (let’s be up front about that), allusions to sexual assaults having happened in the past to non-reader characters, HumanAlastor x FemReader, penetrative sex, Protective Alastor, bruises, somewhat graphic descriptions of murder, mentions to coerced prostitution, sex near a corpse (words that have the FBI watching me), stabbing, knife, bad burlesque names, gambling, my own new HC for the Radio Demon’s origins, another deer reference thanks to @n-after-me , chin quivering, Tommy doesn’t know French and it shows, posted early for @jazzmasternot, wrath」

Minors DNI 🤺

You walked into the theatre for rehearsals with a pep in your step, body still humming. It was like the usual adrenaline rush Alastor brought couldn't fade this time.

But it did, when Tommy grabbed you by the hair out of your makeup chair and threw you into the wall. 

You couldn’t react, head ringing after it left a small indent in the drywall. Unlike before, you didn’t try to stand. Make him work for his second hit. And he did. Leaning down he yanked you off the ground by your arm and dragged you to your feet. 

“Do you think you’re funny?” He shook you, you were sure you could feel your brain jostle. It was rhetorical, but you replied anyway.

“No, Tommy.”

“No. Exactly.” He backed you up onto the make up table, head pressed into the mirror. “Mr. Wilson was not happy. He pulled his contribution. I know you don’t have that kind of money. Do you know what you’re gonna do?”

His fingers dug into your cheeks, “No.” You genuinely didn’t. He was talking to you like you had been in the loop on whatever it was he had been doing on the side. All of this was as shocking to you as your actions were, apparently, to him. 

“You’re gonna take whatever meetings I make until that money is back.” He let go of you and turned to leave but changed his mind. Coming back, he swung his fist and clocked you on the left side of your face.

You didn’t see it, but you heard the other girls running and pulling Tommy off of you, yelling and pleading for him to calm down.

“I worked really hard for you!” He shouted, jerking his shoulders out from under the hands of the other performers. What was he talking about? You hadn’t discussed any of this, asked for any thing from him. “I waited for a high roller for you. Real classy guy. Just wanted a private show! That was it!” He spit, “No, every Tom, Dick, and Harry is welcome now to ask for your time.”

You just held your face, unsure if you had the right makeup to hide the bruise before stage call. 

“Well?! Say you’re sorry.”

You considered not saying anything. No response. When you looked at him, you could see the half a dozen other girls staring back at you, just say it. We have to rehearse.

“I’m sorry.” Eyes cast to the floor.

“For what?”

It hurt when you rolled your eyes, “For being ungrateful?” 

He shoulder checked a few girls on the way out. A couple came to you.

“He’s got some gambling debt, he’s just using us to get ahead.”

“I have some stuff to cover that up for tonight.”

“He usually cuts us in.”

Tears stung your eyes, you were angry and humiliated. You could work elsewhere, with a little luck. Take a job at a diner out of the area where no regulars would stir up trouble. Maybe leave until Tommy got his debts paid off or whatever was motivating this recent streak of cruelty. But you didn’t want to run away. No one applauded waitresses. Maybe if you made yourself as unattractive as possible, no one would request you. Dirty your teeth, talk about other men, speak crudely. 

“What exactly was he talking about?” you asked no one in particular. The girls were quiet for a beat.

“Well ya know, private shows for clients who can afford it.” High pitched and nasal, Florence spoke as she searched her make up station.

“That’s it?” Incredulous.

“Sometimes. You know how it is… woman left alone in a room with a man who has too much money or ego or drink. Doesn’t always stop at a dance.” Minnie had much more experience than you, “It isn’t our jobs. It isn’t normal. But, well, ya heard about New York right? They’re trying to make burlesque outright illegal…”

“Gotta enjoy the art while it’s just misunderstood.” Florence wiped down your mirror before setting her supplies down for you. “Come on, let’s get you fixed up.”

By the time patrons began to stream in, you had blood staining the white of your left eye. Nothing you could do, but maybe at a distance it wouldn’t be noticeable. The bruise under your eye from his fist was easy enough to cover. The contusion from where your right cheek hit the wall was a little harder. 

Luckily, the stage offered a buffer of space and the rest of the room was dark. 

During your show, you tried to keep your eyes moving so the red sclera never stayed in one place too long. For the first time, the cheers did nothing for you. You felt your chin quiver, fighting back tears. You wanted to scream, to tell them to hate you and leave. Stop fucking clapping.

Ruth was naturally the first to come to you after your performance, “Want me to do the tour with you? Arm in arm around the hall.”

You took her up on the offer. It lightened the load, her taking charge of the conversation when people approached or bought you drinks. Luckily the bartender always poured the performers weak cocktails and watered down liquor to keep their heads on straight. 

Ruth’s companionship afforded you precious time to plan, to consider how quickly you could find new work or at least a way out of this.

“What a treat. Two for one. Can I buy you both a drink?” 

Ruth turned first to greet the customer, “Ooh yes sir! Gin and tonic, please and thank you. Autumn?” Your stage name drew your attention back to the world, turning finally.

“Alastor.” It fell from your mouth like a lead balloon.

He smiled down at you, his hand offering a little wave, “Hello. Surprise.” 

Your face fell, a frown pulling down your chin. It took you too long to recover, batting your eyelashes and turning the corners of your lips up unnaturally. 

“So you do have a beau!” Ruth slapped your arm, “I’m Skye, Skye Scraper. Pleasure to meet you, Alastor.” She extended her hand, Alastor planting a kiss on the back of it, concealing his smile at the name.

You tried to keep your eyes on the floor, head turned slightly away from him to obscure the neon sign of an eye shouting, ‘Weak!’

Unfortunately for you, Alastor wasn’t an oblivious man. Unless he was dancing or drunk. “May I have a moment alone with her?” Alastor asked Ruth. Ruth looked to you for your okay, and you just nodded. She gave a little nod of her own to Alastor and slinked away. 

“Are you unhappy to see me, dear? Did I overstep by coming by unannounced?” You hadn’t heard him worried before, it pained you. 

“No, no! I am… so happy to see you. I just had a long day.” You scanned the room for the darkest area to bring him. A booth would be best, you could keep him on one side of you. You gestured with a nod of your head.

“Ah, I kept you out too late.” Alastor didn’t move.

“Not at all, come on let’s sit down.” You reached back for his hand without looking at him, but when you pulled he still didn’t move. He remembered the way you pulled at the hand of that man in the alley the first night you met. Desperate to escape somewhere. 

“Is there a reason you won’t look at me?”

Lie. 

“Uh, no, I’m just embarrassed about this heavy stage makeup.” 

Alastor paused, hand slipping from yours to adjust his sleeves. It was a nervous action, an attempt to self soothe, but you didn’t know that. “I should have asked before coming.”

“Alastor, it’s not…,” you kept your eyes down at your hands.

“Then look at me.”

Would he think you were incapable of protecting yourself? His pity would kill you. Perhaps he would decide a second rate burlesquer wasn’t worth making time for anymore.

You could intentionally wound him, say you don’t want to see him so he leaves. But that sword was double edged and you weren’t sure you’d survive that either. You weren’t making it out of this.

You finally looked at him. He leaned in, “What happened to your eye?” A slender finger gently tilting your chin upward.

Lie. 

You thought too long for an answer. Why were you getting worse at lying? It used to be one of your best shields and swords but now you were so slow on the draw you were left defenseless. Vulnerable. His hand took yours, gently pulling you into the lobby and through the glass doors of the theatre.

Under the bright lights of the marquee and the street lamps, Alastor inspected your face. He reached into his pocket for his handkerchief, wetting it in his mouth before wiping the makeup off of your under eye.

“Alastor, people are staring.” 

His eyes fell down, soft hands lifting your arm where a bruise was already formed. You hadn’t noticed that one.

“What happened?” He wasn't looking at you when he said it, instead cautiously wiping the makeup off your cheeks in search of more marks.

“The truth or wh-“

“Always. Never give me anything else.”

You sighed, and explained, “Tommy, the manager, he’s been shifting tactics for bringing in money because he owes some big bads a lot of debt. Private shows with performers that sometimes get hands on…,” his hands stopped moving but his eyes didn’t meet yours, “I never asked to be included in it. I wouldn’t do it. I was rude to a man Tommy introduced me to and I ran off Saturday. Yada Yada. He got me as soon as I got to work.”

Alastor didn’t reply, just turned on his heels and marched back into the theater. You chased after him, “I don’t need you to fight my battles!” You tried to get in front of him but he walked right past you.

“Not about what you need, dear, it's about what he deserves.” 

Alastor asked the bartender for Tommy, who pointed to the short but stocky man talking to a group of guests. Alastor approached so quickly Tommy didn’t have time to greet him, instead just backing up until he fell ass first into a booth. Alastor boxed him in, one hand on the wall and one on the table, towering over Tommy as he sat.

“I hear you sell dancers by the night.”

You paced the lobby nervously. Would you be fired? What would Alastor say? Would Tommy hit him, too?

He re-emerged, “Come to my car, please.” He didn't stop walking as he said it. 

You followed a few blocks down to his car, parked on the street. He opened the passenger door for you and closed it behind you. You wanted to ask if you were going somewhere, but thought better of it. A tight u-turn, he pulled the car into the side street where you’d first met each other.

Wordlessly he got out of the car, you opening your door before he could. Popping the trunk, he set the folded canvas inside a paper bag. Checking first, he placed it inside one of the tin trash cans. 

You stood, waiting for an explanation.

Finally he stopped and made eye contact with you. “You have a date tomorrow, with me. Bring this to the apartment above the theater before Tommy and I arrive.” Opening your mouth to speak, he didn’t stop to let you add anything. “Preferably near the bed.” He closed the trunk, “Wear red, please.”

You searched his face for some kind of discernible emotion but found none. Those constricted pupils again, an animal staring back at you from behind a pair of glasses. There was no reason to ask him, it was obvious what was going to happen. Did you want to stop it? 

Did you want to see it? Alastor at work?

“Okay. On all the points.” You looked back at the trashcan, “Canvas hidden near the bed. Wear red.”

“The extra clothes can go anywhere out of sight.” He leaned down, kissing your forehead, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Your voice cracked a little, “Wait, you’re leaving already?”

He nodded, “I can’t stay here.” Before getting into his car he turned and added, “Don’t cover the bruises tomorrow. He should see them.”

You nodded in return, “Are you doing this for me?” So quiet you almost hoped he didn’t hear it.

He paused, one leg already in the car and his back to you, “No. I’m doing it for everyone.”

You watched his car light up and leave the alley.

It’s not that you felt abandoned, you felt…. Stranded. You had to go back in there, alone, and put on the normal act but under abnormal conditions. 

So it was happening. You hadn’t seen the first time. Just felt it. You didn’t see the second. You were going to actually see a man die. Not just a man, someone you knew. Someone you used to consider a friend of sorts. Before he got into whatever trouble was driving him to act like a flesh peddler. Could you do it? Could you watch a man be killed? Was that even what Alastor had planned?

Tommy found you the second you were back in the room, hand pressing too hard on the bruises he left on your arm. “You have a meeting tomorrow after your show. If you don’t show up,” he yanked you close, putrid breath of dead teeth you’d never been bothered by before this moment and bad booze assaulting your senses, “I will fucking kill you.”

You almost started laughing, bringing your hand to your mouth to hide your smile. “Okay Tommy.” 

Fuck it. He was going to die anyway, might as well make it a date. 

Ruth saddled up beside you as soon as Tommy was out of earshot, “Look at that smile. Quickie in the alley?”

Disgust, “Jesus, Skye, I was gone like, 5 minutes.” She shrugged. “Why does everyone think — is everyone fucking their daddies* in the side street?” She nodded. “Well, I’m not.”

“Prude.” She joshed before linking your arm in hers again, “We’ve got at least another hour of schmoozing. Tits up!”

Your smile came effortlessly that night, a thrum of excitement keeping you light on your feet. Not excitement for death, but for the very concept of being closer to Alastor. Would you see it happen, in front of you? Or would he have you leave? Either way, you were an active participant with a task list.

He trusted you, even if in a small way. Trust was so rarely given from the people who mattered. Men trusted you often; to be sweet when they tell you they were embarrassed about something, to lie when they ask if you orgasmed, to not steal their cash when they blacked out with their pants still on. Pulling it from strangers was one of your greatest pleasures. But it was easy. You were skilled. 

Yet again, like so often now, Alastor was the exception. He didn’t toss himself at your feet. He stood tall in front of you and on his own terms offered you the things you wanted. You didn’t have to pretend to be demure, you didn’t have sit on his lap in silence and nod and laugh. Just yourself, as much as you could allow yourself to exist in the world. No tricks. If his trust was presented wrapped in a bloodied bow, well, you would thank him dearly and wear the ribbon round your neck like a trophy.

Many men spoke to you, but luckily your participation in conversation wasn’t something they really cared about. As they spoke, your eyes were looking past them and into the future. 

However there was a sense of dread when you lied in bed that night. The excitement of getting closer to Alastor had melted into the fear there was no going back from this. 

Something in your chest stung, a thorn growing from somewhere unknown. Three encounters (that he knew of) and already it seemed your thoughts were more Alastor than yourself. No person had ever made such an impression before. You didn’t like it, but it made you happy. Which is why you didn’t like it. Tying your happiness to another person was a reckless thing to do. You’d seen your mother and half sister both use a man’s attention as a replacement for being happy with themselves and it made them brittle and hollow.

Thinking of what would happen the following night, oddly, you were reminded of losing your virginity. You were a “late bloomer” and were terrified you’d never be you again after. Like something would be taken from you. You fell asleep to that thought, of what you’d lose.

Then you woke, uncharacteristically early, feeling none the bit rested. No dreams. No nightmares. A few seconds of darkness and suddenly it was morning. With the extra time you had you wandered into a department store before going to the theater.

When a sales woman approached you, asking what you were looking for, you were too tired lie.

“A red dress.” You didn’t have the makeup at home to cover your marks, and gave up being worried about it. 

Unfortunately, it seemed it wasn’t so odd of a sight; a woman with a black eye.

“What’s the occasion? Apology dinner?” The woman fidgeted with the hangers while looking at you.

You grimaced, “No, a murder.”

She howled, “You are a hoot! Don’t we wish, huh? Let me pull you some options.”

You put the dress on the top of the paper bag, having hidden it under your make up table the previous night. Your fingers were trembling, applying your makeup needing deep breaths and concentration.

“Ruth, can you do my lips?” You turned and handed her the brush. 

“The eye looks better.” She took your chin in her hand and painted your mouth a pretty shade of red.

“Thank you.” You offered her a smile but she didn't let go, “What?”

“You ever seen a cornered raccoon? Like one got in the house and your mom boxed it into a corner with a broom?”

A nod, yes, actually, you had.

“Who’s got the broom?” She asked. You knitted your brow, not understanding. “Who’s got you in a corner? Is it Tommy?”

You took your chin back, deep breaths. “No brooms. No corners. Just rattled still from last night.” Not a lie, surprisingly. “You thought of a raccoon? Really? Is it because of the eye?”

When you took your bow for the evening and turned to escape the stage lights for the darkness of backstage, you found Tommy leaning just outside the dressing room.

“Get changed, doors unlocked upstairs. Room 504.” 

Grabbing the paper bag you ran through your mental checklist. Wear red, take off your make up, hide the canvas by the bed. An odd to-do list for murder.

The theater had two floors of modest apartments above it, the owners keeping two of the open for the theater’s use. One was for the owners should they ever visit New Orleans, and the other was multi use. Storage and a crash pad for performers or Tommy when he worked late.

The bag crinkled as you hugged it, looking over the small apartment. Boxes, decorations, a modest kitchen and a bed. The bathroom was quite large, a tub and shower head. Was this where the other performers went?  

Why hadn’t anyone said anything sooner? Why didn’t anyone leave yet?

Taking a second, you got to work. You opened the canvas and slid it under the bed, the smallest bit of edge sticking out for easy retrieval. Dizzy with the quickly settling reality of what you were doing, you sat on the floor for a moment. Trying to calm your breathing, you closed your eyes.

The fear of the unknown was suffocating you. There was a possibility Alastor failed and ended up hurt. Or, that he changed his mind and Tommy left you two to just hold hands on the bed for a sex-appropriate amount of time.

You patted your thighs and stood up. No time now for a panic attack. Alastor had a change of clothes in the bag, neatly folded and tied in twine. They were set onto the shelf above the closet.

And finally, yourself. Your dress was on and you stopped to wipe the make up off your face in the bathroom mirror. Still bruised, still nasty. The dress was nice though, carrying some of the weight for your battered mug. Red cotton, sailor neck and little gold buttons down the front. Flashy, brighter than the dark number you usually wore.

Would he like it? Most men looked for how a dress accentuated your curves (or hid them) but you had a feeling Alastor didn’t care so much about that.

You took your seat at the edge of the bed, thin mattress sagging from your weight.

The clock ticked, until finally the door opened and you saw something you hadn’t seen before and knew you’d never see again. Tommy and Alastor.

“Here she is. Autumn, this is Mr. Cerf. He's asked I stay in the apartment, apparently word of your attitude already spread among the upperclass.” Tommy wagged his finger at you in a playful way that was entirely out of place.

“Look at her. Pouting. Not very excited, is she?” Alastor smiled at you, softly. You felt for a second that maybe you entirely misunderstood. He looked calm, normal. Even peaceful.

“It’s always nice when they fight a little. But she won’t cause you any trouble.” Tommy patted Alastor’s back, who immediately shirked away.

“Do you like it when women try to fight you off, Tommy?”

A dry laugh, “Ya know how it is. They gotta act like they don’t like it so people still respect ‘em.”

A hum. Alastor’s smile falling entirely. A shadow settled over his face. “I see. That does make things easier.” He slipped on his short black gloves. “I always tell her she looks lovely in red. She rarely listens to me, but I’m happy to see she did tonight. It’s a special occasion.” 

Once, you thought. You didn’t listen once. 

Tommy nervously chuckled, looking from Alastor then to you, “What?” Alastor grabbed him by the back of the neck, pushing him to the ground and onto his knees. Hand fisted in his hair, knife pressing across his throat. 

Alastor dug his knee into the small of Tommy’s back, “Tommy, I think you owe the lady an apology.” You let your feet find the edge of the canvas and slid it out with a kick. It glided across the wood and stopped where his knees met the floor. 

“I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry.” Tommy was staring at the waxed fabric in front of him. 

You felt your eyes sting with tears, a smile breaking out against your will. “For what?”

“I—,” his eyes searched the room for an answer, your words bringing a pulse of Deja Vu, “It’s about yesterday?” He seemed to relax a little, “Come on. I said sorry. ” Looking back to Alastor. “I didn’t know she had a guy.”

Alastor yanked his head back to look him squarely in his eyes, “Wrong answer.” He pushed him down onto his stomach, “Come on Tommy. I like when my victims fight a little, too.” Sensing the taller man towering over him with the knife, Tommy scrambled onto his back to look at Alastor. Tommy started shouting, “Hey!! Someone!” But there was no one to hear him. That was the beauty of the space he always brought his dates to; it was too loud to hear anyone scream. 

Funny how that works both ways.

Alastor shrugged, “Well that didn’t last long.” As Tommy backed up, trying to get traction on the slippery canvas and failing, Alastor straddled him. Tommy’s hands came up, one pushing against Alastor’s face, the other against the arm holding the knife. Alastor put both hands onto the knife’s handle, staring down into Tommy’s eyes as he inched closer to the man’s neck. “You look scared, Tommy. Are you scared?” 

The other man shouted, eyes trembling as he watched the knife come down.

Alastor pushed through, metal sinking into Tommy’s throat. No pause, he withdrew and sank it again and again. Tommy’s hands fell from Alastor’s face, flailing slightly at his neck before slumping down. He was frenzied, stabbing at his chest and upward with wide eyes. You recognized those constricted pupils. They made sense in this setting. Alastor was panting, taking a second to split the skin from ear to ear in the middle of his melee. 

You brought your knees to your chest, watching the crime unfold. Was this anger for you or truly for everyone? No one ever got so angry for you before, if you could be so conceited as to say this was for you. Your mouth opened and you spoke without thinking, no filter. “You look like an angry God. A jazz demon of wrath.” You smiled, the morbidity not lost on you.

Alastor stopped, frozen as he stared at you. For a second, he had forgotten you were there. He was always alone during these hobbies of his. Until recently. You looked like an angel in red and gold. Had he dyed your heavenly robes crimson? Or had you been made that way?

He dropped the knife, peeling his gloves off and stepping over Tommy’s decimated torso before kicking off his shoes.

You scooted back onto the bed and opened your arms, welcoming a strange after-kill cuddle. Your reward.

Alastor took off his bowtie, then his shirt. It took you a second, not realizing what was happening until he began to unbuckle his belt. “Now?!” 

He nodded, “Yeah.”

“What the fuc— okay,” your hands flew to unclasp your stockings and roll down your panties. You mumbled to yourself, “Jesus Christ.”

As he crawled over you, warm gloveless hands tracing along your legs, hips, waist, you looked at up him with your now dilated pupils, “It’s murder? You need murder?”

He laughed, embarrassing you a little, “No it isn’t that.” His face nuzzled into your neck, “You’d go to hell? For me?” 

You froze, you hadn’t really seen it like that.

“You’d damn your eternal soul,” his hips pressed into you, an unfamiliar hardness there that made you gulp, “just to spend time with me?”

How were you so heated over an erection? A dime a dozen, men practically threw them at women who offered them the slightest smile. Yet feeling him so hard against you, something you had been practically praying for, made you weak. A trembling virgin all over again. 

Don’t lie, he always told you to be honest so you decided to try it out even if it made you feel at risk of harm. Your hands slid up and into his hair, gripping gently, enough to elicit a groan from him, “Well I was worried heaven wouldn’t have jazz, so… yeah.” You had to always say something a little in jest, to hide from the vulnerability of honesty, “This seemed like a better option.” The truth was, if you had to state it plainly, you would dive head first into hell in exchange for his smile. To hear his laugh. To feel his breath over your mouth. You were quite sure hell was more your scene, anyway.

“I’ll be sure to fill your afterlife with jazz every day, dear.” 

How could he make hell sound so sweet?

“It’s a deal.” Fingers playing with his hair, basking in the warmth of skin on skin. 

He leaned up, eyes scanning your face as he always seemed to do in these intimate moments. The feeling spreading down his chest was one wholly foreign to him, one he was struggling to put into his own words. You hadn’t run away. You opened your arms for him even still, welcoming your own damnation in exchange for… affection? Attention? Him? The reason didn’t matter, not to Alastor, and not now to his growing need. You didn’t even push him for more than he wanted to give, not yet needled him for details, secrets, sex. Could you really just be there for Alastor? Take him for what he was and what he wasn’t?

His mouth was salivating at the thought you’d give him anything. Reality was, you already had. His finger caressed the purple welt on your cheek. You were given pain and he returned it ten fold to its owner. A demon of wrath. He felt his cock twitching, underwear tented around him. 

You smiled up at him, wiping a little streak of blood from his jawline, “You look quite pretty in red yourself.”

His head came to rest on your collarbone with a shaky sigh.

Had you said something wrong? 

“Please, you’re already pushing me to my limit.”

Making a show of it, you zipped your mouth and pretended to toss the key. You wanted to reach down and pull off his remaining bit of clothing, to rub yourself against his manhood. But, you weren’t sure if that was something he would appreciate. You didn’t want to ruin his experience, to make him regret offering you something he so clearly didn’t need to give.

He removed his underwear, watching you unbutton your dress and pulling your arms free. Your bra, garter, and stockings were still on. Somehow he found it more scandalous than if you were completely naked.

Your breath was shaking, uneven as the excitement took control of you. There was a not totally unfounded fear you'd black out from hyperventilating.

Alastor lined himself up with your heat and pressed in, making a hard to decipher face as his brow knit up and he bit his lip. You were already so wet, not a hand or mouth needed from him. He wondered if you shared more than an acceptance of justified homicide; your body so relaxed and welcoming to him. 

With a few shallow thrusts, he was fully sunk into you. You may have let out a cry. An emptiness you hadn’t clocked was suddenly gone. Was this what Zeus meant when he said the two souled humans were too powerful and tore them apart to weaken them? 

Was this sex, or love? The word made you nervous. But—- if he offered it to you in both palms, you’d suffocate yourself in his hands.

He began to move in earnest, thrusting in and out slowly. You had expected the frantic moves of a horny virgin. Instead he was moving with control, hips rolling into you like waves gentle and steady where the lake met land, not slamming like many men before him. 

Had it been any other dick, you’d whine and begin moving yourself against it for that needed speed. This was Alastor. Dripping pleasure into your open mouth like a drought-breaking summer shower.

You didn’t recognize your own sounds, already panting and moaning as a warmth spread from the place where his cock was sliding around inside you.

Alastor tried to keep calm. Even when his body was sensitive, he wasn’t used to the mental work needed to fight off his orgasm. Usually he had the opposite issue, struggling to stay focused enough to finish. Mind wandering to more productive chores. 

But you were so wet, so accepting in body and mind. He watched your eyes close, one hand gently clawing at the blankets, the other reaching down to touch his lower stomach every time he thrust back in. For the first time in a very long time you really truly wanted to remember who was at the other end of the dick you were enjoying.

Languid moves. Swollen cockhead hitting the bottom of your walls, the top, the end, pushing still a little further.

“I’m sorry,” Alastor leaned down over you, kissing at your jawline, “For making you wait so long for so little.”

His rhythm picked up then, burying himself deeper into your sopping cunt and dragging out enough to pull back that quiver of his release.

You shook your head, lips tingling. “Nothing little here.”

He attempted a laugh, losing his breath. He wanted to last longer, to make the experience worth your while but he could feel you dripping down his balls and it weakened him with alarming efficiency. Finally the frenzied speed you witnessed earlier was turned to you, you brought your legs up, holding at his sides. “Darling I need to-,” he moaned into your ear.

“Please stay.” You clung to his neck, nails grazing at his shoulders.

Alastor’s voice was soft and sweet, a small moan and a gentle grunt. His legs spread more, trying to get every centimeter of himself into you. Hips now grinding in a small circle, but not losing any of the comfort of your warmth. You felt him still pumping that welcomed heat into you, and you tightened around him, drawing out your own moan. He hissed, “Sensitive.” Your legs were shaking like leaves in a storm, no orgasm but the pleasure nonetheless intoxicating.

The front of your brain felt like static, perhaps from the lack of oxygen as you had uncharacteristically lost your breath under Alastor. 

Like losing your virginity, after the fear faded and you were able to find a moment for introspection, you found yourself larger than before. The edges of your canvas expanded out, new parts of yourself unfurling for you to explore. Nothing had been lost, only gained.

Alastor kissed at the dark circle under your eye, at the bruise of your cheek, he lifted your arm and kissed gently at the purple and blue spots there too. He had lied, and he wasn’t sure why, but maybe he’d find the will to admit it to you someday.

He had left yesterday to keep from strangling Tommy in the center of the theater, finding himself in a rage. He rarely felt anger. His killings always about retribution, about karma, about righting the scales. He needed to leave to keep from losing his composure.

He lied to you in the alley, unable to look you in the eye when he did it for fear you’d see it. You always seemed to see him with a clarity others didn’t despite such a short time together. He struggled to hide from you and it was as exciting as it was frightening. A testament to your similarities.

He hadn’t done it for everyone. No. His personal moral code fell to pieces when he saw your bloodied eye and bruised skin. He would have killed Tommy even if he had been a good man, even if you’d been the instigator. None of his murderous rules mattered. And it scared him. 

(Next Part Next Week, orz)

*slang for boyfriend, often a rich one

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay /

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

[ateezscupid]

can u write a fic where san is a mean dom? i have this thing for calling him sannie bc its cute! and i think it would be hot if he mocked yn calling him that and it was kinda centered around humiliation!!! i love ur writing sm id love to see this done in ur style <333 i hope this doesnt make u uncomfy to write!! ):

- 🕸️

hello hello! i’m getting to this after a very long time, my apologies but i’ve been WAITING for someone to request mean dom!san. he’s been in my mind for a few weeks but i’ve had writers block and could never figure out how to write it out, so thank you for this.

and don’t worry about anything making me uncomfortable! a lot of things, i don’t have a problem writing. i plan to make a really detailed post about my rules and things like that soon so you guys know what i do and don’t write!

anyway, let me stop blabbing. enjoy!

﹟𝗠𝗬 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟 ⋆ 𝖼.𝗌𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗭 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 / 𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧

plot - san always gets flustered when you call him sannie during sex, but he loves it just as much as you do.

warn - kinda smut w/o plot, dom!san, unprotected sex, rough sex, pet names (baby, princess, pretty, etc.), choking, begging, degrading, humiliation

w/c - n/a

𝗧𝗔𝗚S - @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan

you didn’t think today could’ve gotten any worse. you were teasing san the entire day trying to imply you needed him without actually saying it, but he clearly wasn’t catching the signals you sent. he was so busy with work, he couldn’t spare at least ten minutes for you.

you didn’t want to tease him so much that he’d be annoyed of you and he’d stop talking to you for the rest of the night, but you needed him. it’s been a while since the last time you two were together in bed. all you’ve been thinking about for the past week is how his hands would feel on your body; his hands squeezing your breasts and caressing your skin. rubbing the pads of his fingers on your clit and messing with the sensitive little bud that was there.

if anyone had asked you how badly you wanted to spend at least one night with him, you’d ramble on and on about it. you rambled about it to wooyoung the night before and it was clear he didn’t want to listen to your horny problems.

“distract him while he’s working!” is the advice he gave you, and boy, he couldn’t have been more wrong.

now you were face down in the bed with your arms pinned behind you, your makeup smudging on the pillow and your entire body shaking uncontrollably. you thought distracting him would make him realize what he was missing out on, but you did it at the worst moment.

it was embarrassing to say the least. san was in his office having a meeting, and you had the crazy idea to walk inside with nothing but a lingerie on. you’ve been wanting to wear it for a while, so what harm was there to wear it while he was having a business meeting? it was a harmless idea, and hic co-workers wouldn’t have seen you since you planned to go underneath the table. but you messed up.

while you were busy unbuckling his pants, neither of you noticed the top of your head was visible at the bottom of his computer screen. that meant everyone in the call saw yo ur head, and only one thing came to mind. when it was brought to his attention, he excused himself then turned his mic and camera off. you knew a punishment was coming your way when that happened.

he dragged you out of the office without saying anything and threw you on the bed, ripped the lingerie off your body without hesitation, and pounded into you like there was no tomorrow. there was so much going on in your mind, like would his co-workers think you were some sex crazed lunatic? or would they think of him as someone addicted to sex? unprofessional? there wasn’t any room for you to feel bad when you felt too good to remember what happened.

“this is what you wanted, right?” san growled as he pushed your head into the pillow, using his unoccupied hand to land hits against your ass whenever he felt like it. “you wanted to be treated like a slut, now you are, you little whore.”

no words could come out of you. just a bunch of incoherent babbles spilling from your swollen lips and tears falling down your cheeks. you loved when he was so angry all he could do was fuck the lights out of you. you loved him being rough and treating you like a rag doll. it was impossible for you to get over how easily he went inside you and how much he stretched you out. it felt like heaven.

“s-sannie~!” you whine into the pillow, hands curling into fists behind you. “f-fuck, s’good… y-yes!”

“don’t call me that.” he smacked your ass once more and thrusted harder. he was lucky you were facing away from him otherwise you’d see the visible red tint on his cheeks. he liked when you called him sannie, but now wasn’t the time. at least that’s what he told himself.

“such a little whore for me, hm?” he grunts, leaning down and biting your ear gently. “you wanted to mess with me during my meeting and now everyone saw how much of a dirty girl you are~. you wanted attention so bad but ended up embarrassing yourself in front of everyone.”

“i-i—,” even your attempts at forming full sentences failed.

“aw, is it too much?” he whispered in your ear. “you like it when i fuck you like this, huh? such a fucking whore.”

“sannie, p-please i-i can’t—,”

“sannie blah blah blah!” he rolled his eyes and basically forced you to arch your back. “i said not to call me that, and now you’re not listening? you wanna be bad now?”

“s-sa—,” you weren’t even allowed to finish your sentence. the minute you tried to speak, his hand was wrapped around your neck and gripping so hard, it felt like you couldn’t breathe. you loved every bit of it.

“pl-please—!” you whine. “l-let—“

“let you what? cum? after you were being disobedient?” he kissed your temple, groaning softly and letting go of your arms and planting his hand on the bed. “fuck, you feel so good.”

you opened your mouth to speak, which triggered san to tighten his grip around your throat. it was almost too much.

“call me sannie again, i dare you.” the tone in his voice was enough to let you know he wasn’t joking around, but the urge to be a brat was weighing on you.

“s…” you bit your lip. “s-sannieee!”

he didn’t say anything. he took his hand away from your throat and lifted you up by the shoulders, wrapping one arm around you and using his other hand to rub rough circles around your clit.

“you wanna be a whore? i’ll treat you like one.”

[hayakawalove]

Freak Like Me

Summary: You trust Toru with your life. You tell him about one of your fantasy's, and the two of you try it out with stellar results.

A/N: Kinktober going strong! I've only written this kink once before, but I had fun with it. I hope you guys are having a wonderful month. If dark content isn't your thing, that's totally fine! I have lots of other fics that are much more tame. Kinktober was meant for me to test the waters with things I haven't written before. I'm liking it so far, so hopefully you all do too! Once you finish reading, I would love to know how you are feeling!

CW: Smut, Knifeplay, Consensual Knifeplay, Dark Content, Fear Play, Vaginal Fingering, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Humiliation, Post Time Skip, Female Reader, AFAB Reader W/C: 1,159

Credit to cafekitsune for the banner

Toru Oikawa is not a scary man. Not by any means. He has kind eyes and a soft smile. Scary is the last word you would use to describe him. However, you find yourself coming up empty handed when looking for a different adjective as he enters the room wielding a blade. Scared is exactly the feeling rushing through your veins right now. 

“Sweetheart, we don’t have to try this.” He notices the fear in your eyes. 

His comment brings you back to reality. You did want to try it. It had been on your mind for a long time, and tonight was the night you were finally going to make the dream come true. 

“No! I want to.” You say, laying flat on your back. 

Toru walks further into the room, stopping short in front of the bed. It creaks with his movement as he crawls on top, his large frame easily overshadowing yours. The knife is pointed away from you as a safety precaution, yet part of you wishes it wasn’t.

“Okay,” he places a gentle kiss on the side of your throat. “Say the safe word if you change your mind.” 

Goosebumps crawl up your skin from his lips and from the low tone of his voice. You try to keep your body as still as possible as Toru lowers the knife, letting the dull side scrape down your flesh. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. It doesn’t hurt, but alarm bells are going off in your head nonetheless. Adrenaline shoots throughout your body as he slowly drags the knife down your stomach. 

You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until he says something. 

Toru stops in his tracks, and reaches up with his other hand. He grabs your chin and tilts it up, making you look into his eyes. 

“You have to remember to breathe for me baby, yeah?” 

You let out a whimper and nod, slowly releasing the pent up air from your lungs. An easy smile spreads across Toru’s face before he looks back down once more to resume. 

“Good girl,” he croons. 

Toru presses the blade down a little harder, still using the dull side, as he brings it across your stomach down your soft thighs. You can feel your pussy begin to leak at the lingering sense of danger. Toru’s eyes keep flicking up towards your face to watch for any sign of apprehension, but he doesn’t find any. 

He moves the blade once more, and in doing so the tip briefly pokes into your skin. You let out a moan, and refrain from arching your back. He almost looks just as excited as you do. 

“Toru, more-“ you sob.

Toru breathes heavily and nods, tightening his grip on the handle. 

“Okay, but you have to stay still.” He orders. 

The firmness of his voice sends a shiver throughout your body. You silently agree and wait for him to continue. His eyes are laser focused as he looks down at your thighs. Toru flips the knife around, using the sharp edge to drag down your skin. He doesn’t press hard enough to cause any damage, if anything it feels like a soft tickle, but the threat of it is enough. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, and you let out a shaky moan. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so horny in your life. 

In contrast, Toru knows he’s never been so horny before. The drool seeping from the side of your lips and your fingers digging into the sheets is a sight he won’t soon forget. It’s taking all of his willpower not to toss the knife away so he can fuck you. 

Patience, he knows this. 

“Touch me, please, please,” you’re gasping as he trails the blade up your tender flesh. 

Any wrong move could be detrimental, but Toru’s been careful and measured his entire life. 

“You can’t wait, sweetheart? We just got started.” He teases, putting on a front as if his cock isn’t so hard it’s threatening to rip through his pants. 

“No-“ you whimper. 

Toru holds the knife steady as he peers between your legs. Strings of your juices decorate your puffy cunt, the sight ripping all coherent thought from his head. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs underneath his breath. “Okay, alright,” 

He sets the knife down to maneuver your body against his. The two of you fit together like perfect puzzle pieces, your back slotting nicely into his chest. Toru keeps your legs spread while he dips his hand down, collecting your wetness to plunge his fingers inside you. 

He revels in the moan you let out. His fingers start off slow, two of them carefully stretching you out as he fucks them into you. With each press of his hand, his palm grazes your sensitive clit, making you groan. 

“Bring it back, bring the knife-“ 

Toru lets out a chuckle, keeping his gaze focused on your pussy. He continues to finger fuck you as his other hand reaches for the knife, once again bringing it up to your skin. 

“So needy, baby.” He mumbles, dragging the blade up your side. “It’s nasty.” 

Even though it’s an insult, it doesn’t sound like it. The way the syllables curl in the air has your pussy clenching around his fingers. 

Toru speeds his hand up, easily locating the sensitive tissue inside you which he abuses. His cock is stiff behind your back as he fingers you, your clit getting stimulated constantly. You’re incoherent, but trying your hardest to remain still, the threat of injury still looming in the air. 

“Toru, please, fuck,” you groan. 

He brings the knife up to your neck, the dull side biting into your throat. It doesn’t register to you that there’s no danger involved, that Toru would never put you in serious harms way, your brain thinks it’s the sharp end kissing your skin. 

Toru grinds his palm against your clit, feeling as you inch closer to release. He wonders if you notice how hard he is behind you, how it’s taking all of his concentration to guide you through first. 

“You gonna cum for me?” He asks. 

“Yes! Yes!” Your legs tremble as he fucks into you faster. 

Toru presses the knife down slightly harder against your neck, and that’s all it takes to send you over the edge. You cum with a loud moan, your pussy gripping onto Toru’s fingers so tight that even he sees white. He fucks you through it, only tossing the knife aside when he feels you relax in his hold. He presses a kiss to the side of your head before pulling his fingers away, admiring the strings of cum decorating them. 

“Damn, you really are freaky.” He taunts. 

You pout in his hold, playfully smacking his leg. 

“Says you! Your dick feels like cement!” 

“Oh uh…right.” He plays off, chuckling. 

Maybe he was just as freaky as you.

If you want to be tagged in my future works, just let me know. Please tell me what you want to be tagged in.

[artisticxlly]

*timidly knocks on your asks* Tr-trick or treat?

BOO! :D

I'm trying to fit my answers to what you guys like, and since I see that quite a few of your art posts are about Sakuatsu or Osasuna, I've dug around for a Sakuatsu one! Maybe one day I'll turn this into a whole Ao3 post, so here's just a sneak peek!

Atsumu wasn't an idiot, contrary to what Kiyoomi called him.

Kiyoomi had been acting off, and it definitely didn't get lost under Atsumu, someone who deeply analysed his spikers to assist them in the best possible way. Kiyoomi was a strong player, especially with how he could handle the ball, his flexible wrist letting him spin it. During training today, it was different, though. He ball kept losing its momentum, even more so as the training went on.

The others usually showered quickly, and Kiyoomi would take his time. This way, most of them would be finished by the time he got in the shower. Atsumu stayed this time, though, eyeing Kyoomi.

The taller man of the two glares back. "What." He huffs. "You've been staring at me all training, Miya." Kiyoomi points out, untying his shoes and slipping out of them.

"Are ya doin' okay?" Atsumu asks, blunt and to the point.

Kiyoomi looks at him pointedly. "If this is about my spikes, don't bother."

"I'm asking ya 'cause I care. Today was just training, yer performance was... Off." Atsumu puts it bluntly.

"Just a bad joint day." Kiyoomi mutters. "Worry about other things, Miya. I'll be fine."

Atsumu remembers Kita well. Their captain had been just as observant and wasn't hesitant to send them home when they were sick. He remembers Kita leaving him a note and pickled plums to make him feel better back at Inarizaki.

"Any... Way I can help?"

"What?"

"To help the pain, I mean." Atsumu rubs the back of his neck. "Ya should be takin' a break."

"I wasn't aware you were my captain. And..." He pauses for moment, his expression softening a little. "I should be fine."

"I'd be stupid to not make sure that my spiker is gettin' the rest he needs." Kiyoomi stands up and walks towards him. "How about this, since you're so stubborn." He chews on the inside of his cheek momentarily. "You come over to mine for dinner and help me with my routine. Will that make you stop whining?" Kiyoomi huffs, eyes squinting. He was playing right into Atsumu's hands, despite acting like he he was compromising.

Atsumu grins. "Sure does, Omi."

They shower and buy a bite to eat since neither of them feel like cooking.

Kiyoomi's apartment feels nice. Minimalistic, somewhat, with some cute memorabilia. Atsumu avoids staring too much, though, knowing Kiyoomi still felt prickly about having someone over. While taking off his jacket, Kiyoomi explains. "Usually, massages help me most. Since you're so eager to help me, you could help me with that?" He looks shy almost, with a blush on his face. As if it was humiliating to ask for help.

"Sounds good. Do ya have a cream or somethin'?"

Kiyoomi blinks. "Good... Good thinking, actually. I do."

He leaves swiftly to get it, while Atsumu sits down on the couch. He sets down the dinner on the coffee table, waiting patiently. Kiyoomi not only returns with the cream but is re-dressed in shorts and a shirt instead since his knees and ankles would need to be free from clothing. He sits down next to Atsumu, a few wrinkles forming between his eyebrows from the pain. He leans back into the couch.

"Do you uhm... Know how to massage joints?" He asks Atsumu, aware of the other watching him as he hands him the tube.

"I think I could use yer guidance." Atsumu takes some of the cream and applies it to his palms, warming it.

"Well, heat helps..." Kiyoomi offers his wrist, trying to relax.

"You can't really... uhm... Your hands are really warm." He is thrown off track when Atsumu takes his wrist, holding it gently in his warm, broad palms.

"Yer just cold, Omi."

"... Right. You can't really do much wrong. Deep, slow pressure is usually what does it. I'll let you know if you're doing awful." His remark had just a little bite to it, undermined by the blush decorating his ears and neck.

------

Thank you for the ask!

[mas-o-kissed]

(FROM THE IMPCO ARCHIVES, IT’S PART 1 OF AN EPISODE OF BRAINDRAIN.

CW: hypnotic intox, dubcon hypno, public humiliation, kidnapping)

It’s the middle of the night, and your television flickers. There’s a static haze, a soft droning. As the picture comes into focus, a jaunty, old fashioned tune plays over the title card:

BRAINDRAIN

with Imp

Camera slowly zooms in on a small, effeminate man, grinning at the camera. A lower third tells you that his name is Imp. The image is hazy, as if it’s an old broadcast, but you could swear he has horns and a devil’s tail. Are those fangs? What is this show?

“Good evening, Impsomniacs! It’s 3 o’clock, and you know what that means. It’s time for your favorite game show: BRAINDRAIN.”

The camera follows as Imp walks across the set.

“Now, I’ve been hosting this show for many years. It’s been so long, we don’t even remember that far back! The before times, the long long ago, it all fades into nothing, like a dark void at the center of my mind, and no matter how hard I try to remember, it’s like we’re filled with this emptiness. It’s frightening, but it’s exciting at the same time. Like, what even is hiding in that dark space? Is it better if we never find out? This guy knows what I’m talking about!”

Imp points lightheartedly at an audience member, who appears to be asleep. AUDIENCE LAUGHS.

“HA! Haha. Yes.” (Stage whisper, into his headset) “Get that guy out of here. He’s too far gone to laugh at any of my jokes.”

The audience member is swiftly carted away.

“We have a very special player on our show tonight. You might recognize him from such places as snooping around Impco at 6am, or the holding room where we keep all of our prisoner— I mean contestants.”

Curtains move aside to reveal a man chained to a podium by his neck and hands. There is a gag in his mouth. He struggles against the binding. The messy scrawl on his name card says: “POSTMAN (ALLEGEDLY)”

“Usually I’m not up so early in the morning, but today I was woken up by a terrible horn-ache, and that’s when I found contestant number one poking around the facility. What do you have to say for yourself, contestant?”

Imp removes the gag from the man’s mouth.

“I was delivering a package, you lunatic!”

“Oh? Really? And what was in this package?”

“That tie! You’re wearing it right now!”

Imp looks down at the tie around his neck.

“HA! Hahaha! Oh darling, I sure wish I believed you. But you see, we’ve already downloaded dozens of fun triggers directly into your brain. It would be such a shame to waste them. Not only that, but our audience is just aching to see what’s going to happen to you. They’re ravenous. Like dogs. Isn’t that right, folks?”

APPLAUSE AND BARKING.

The man continues to struggle.

“Now, I think we all know the rules by now, but because I’m so nice, I’ll explain how the game is played.

I spin the wheel of post-hypnotic suggestions (we’re still coming up with a snappier name for it).

Whatever it lands on is the trigger I’ll use before I ask you a question.

Will you have to answer a complicated math problem after having your IQ reduced by 30 points? Will I make you into my puppet and then ask you to grab something just out of reach? Will it be a mysterious third thing?

You don’t know! And neither do I! That’s what makes the game so fun. Are you ready to play, Luke?”

“Let me go! M-my name’s not even Luke. It’s Daniel.”

“GREAT! Time to spin the wheel of post-hypnotic suggestions. Ooooooh!”

Imp spins the large, multicolored wheel. In each color is a different image, indicating a different trigger. As the wheel spins, Imp’s eyelids start fluttering. He watches it, half-lidded, a blank look on his face. The wheel has stopped spinning. Five seconds pass. An Imptern in a black t-shirt and headset rushes onto the stage. She snaps her fingers in front of Imp’s face.

“Bwuh.. wha..?”

She hurriedly whispers, “Sir, you know you’re not supposed to look directly at the wheel.”

“It’s my show. I can look wherever I want.”

“You were just zoning out, again!”

“You know I can’t be effected by hypnosis, doll. Now, get off the stage, I’m trying to do a show.”

She rushes off. TEPID AUDIENCE LAUGHTER. Imp gestures to the wheel, which has landed on a drawing of a bottle.

“Oh, a classic! Are you ready for the trigger, darling?”

“P-please don’t, I-I…”

“Hmm, stuttering and slurring like that. Oh dear… How much have you had to drink?”

The contestant’s eyelids flutter. He looks confused. His cheeks flush.

“Whas… happening?”

“You heard me. How much have you had to drink?”

“I’ve haven’t had… anything. I… I feel…”

The contestant giggles, clearly drunk. AUDIENCE LAUGHS.

“Uh oh, I think he’s had a bit too much.”

“I don… nunderstand. I didn’t think it wass real but I ffeel…”

“Didn’t think what was real? Hypnosis? Brainwashing? If that was true, we’d all be out of the job! HA! Ohh, you poor thing, you look like you’re going to be sick. Are you ready for your test, darling?”

“Fffuck.”

“No swearing dear, we’re on LIVE TV! Considering your pitiful state, I’ll keep it simple. Your question is: If one doctor doctors another doctor, does the doctor who doctors the doctor doctor the doctor the way the doctor he is doctoring doctors? Or does he doctor the doctor the way the doctor who doctors doctors?

“I… wh… what?”

“I’m sorry, that’s wrong. I don’t know what the answer is, but I know that that’s definitely not it.”

“Youu asked me a trick queshtion! Ompurpose! How’m I supposed to answer something like… that…? Shit… the room wontstop spinn..ninng…”

“Easy there, tiger. It’s time for a quick commercial break, but don’t you fret. We’ll be back to seal our dear contestant’s fate after this! (BUY IMPCO PRODUCTS!)”

There’s a commercial for Impco brand hypno-goggles. You’re not sure what hypno-goggles are, or what you’re even watching. But that Imp seems so nice. And he said to buy Impco products. So maybe you should…

(Decided to break this up with the commercials since it’s long but part 2 is coming soon! When I post it I will link it here.)

[harlowtales]

Jack finally realizes how he feels about his “bestie” Y/N but is it too late?

18+ adult themes and language

PART ONE

“C’mon Y/N pass it!! For fuck sakes I’m open!” Jack shouted from in front of the goalie net ready to kick in the soccer ball. You took the shot instead of passing it to Jack, a move the goalie didn’t see coming. Ismail in goal dove across the net to save it but it hit the goal post just the right way and went in over his head. You SCORED!!!

“Whoooooo!!!! Eat that bitch!” You screamed to a humiliated Ismail on the ground now with his head in his hands from an epic miss.

You were the only girl on the Private Garden soccer team. You grew up playing soccer with Jack and all the guys. The day they found out you were a girl is a day Jack will never forget. You were all about 8 years old and you had all your hair hidden up in your hat so they would allow you to play, but it had proven to be difficult to play soccer with a hat so when you were subbed in you looked over at your dad who gave you a look for you to go for it, and you took your hat off to which your long curls came cascading down.

To Jack in that moment you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and the most beautiful girl to him still, but telling you all that would ruin years of friendship and mess up the whole friend group. Add to that him being famous and it was a recipe for disaster if you knew how he felt. Sometimes it was harder to hide how he looked at you than other times, but this was not one of those times. He was pissed you took the shot instead of passing him the ball.

“Fuck is wrong with you Y/N?? There ain’t no I in TEAM.” He lectured, his curls all sweaty and jersey wet, he peeled it off with a look of agitation firmly fixed on his face as his sweat dripped down his chest and abs and he guzzled back some water. Any girl would be unable to speak given the sight of him but you were too mad to care.

“Fuck is wrong with you Harlow?” You shot back just as irritated. He hated when you called him that because you only did it when you were pissed. You started walking away with a sack of balls over your shoulder which made him extra mad.

“Yo Y/N you legit have the biggest sack here.” Sunni called out to you and you dropped the sack and fell on the ground howling. Sunni had a way of getting you going. Seeing how you just blew him off Jack walked over to you fuming.

“Y/N we need to talk. NOW.” He said standing over you on the ground as you were wiping tears of laughter. Sunni was waiting for you in the distance to catch up.

“Get over yourself bro. It’s a game. I took a shot and I scored. Why are you so jealous? I score more than you do. On and off the field.” You said mercilessly glaring at him as you got up and dusted yourself off with not even a hand up from him.

“Since you started playing in college you got a real fucking attitude you know that?” He said in your face. “You’ll never play pro anyway. You’re a girl Y/N. A GIRL. Remember?” His words stung and put your anger in overdrive.

“I’m going to the olympics!” You defiantly spat back

“Oh yeah? And then what? Huh? It’s not the WNBA. There’s no chance to be a star and you have a massive ego.” Jack continued on his rant.

Sunni ran back to broker peace between the two of you. “Yoooooo chill bro. Yes she is a girl so back up a bit.” Sunni defended you and made you blush. A lot of the time you kind of forgot you were female. You were raised by your dad and uncles as your mom couldn’t look after you due to battling addiction so your dad took full custody from the time you were 2 and it was just you and him. You learned how to fix cars and play sports. He wasn’t sure how to raise a girl so he just raised a boy as best he could.

Jack suddenly felt bad for tearing into you as Sunni gave him a wake up call about his attitude. “It’s our sister Y/N bro. Not some random. Chill out.” Sunni said calmly. “Y/N you coming by? I’m doing some fresh lasagna.”

“Bro. I’m there right now! I’m starving.” You said smiling ear to ear. Sunni was an amazing cook.

“No invite for me?” Jack said now calmed down

“Uh…not this time bro, me and Y/N kinda just chill together on Thursdays.” Sunni said taking Jack by surprise as he was unaware this was something they did just with each other.

“Fine, I gotta hit the studio anyway. Y/N, nice goal.” He said in a truce hugging you.

“No worries fam.” You said but were upset he came at you so hard. You couldn’t shake the feeling he was going through something. “You good?”

“He’s fine.” Sunni interrupted eager to spend time with you alone.

Jack couldn’t shake the feeling of irritation and had no idea why he was in such a bad mood lately. He was snapping at everyone. Even Neelam had a talk with him that he was getting out of pocket too often. Once at home he hopped in the shower and fed pups. He was sore all over and decided to order a pizza. Half way through watching Dune he lost track of the story as his mind wandered to what you and Sunni were up to and why neither of you had told him about the exclusive Thursday night just the two of you hung out.

He decided to call Urban and see what he knew. “Yo Urb what up?” Jack said casually

“Nuthin bruh just chilling with Azura and the fam.” Urban said as he was just sitting down to eat with his family and girlfriend.

“Yo did you know Y/N and Sunni just hang together alone every Thursday night?” Jack asked trying not to have the way he felt about it show up in his voice. He uncomfortably cleared his throat.

“Um no, I didn’t.” Urban said not thinking much of it. To him Y/N was one of the guys so much he forgot it was possible anything could be going on.

Jack delayed responding deep in thought. “You still there?” Urban said “I gotta go bro it’s dinner time.”

“Yeah no worries. See you tomorrow.” Jack said distracted by how weird the whole thing was. He couldn’t resist and called Sunni.

“What up” Sunni said as Jack FaceTimed him so he could see what was happening. Sunni had his shirt off having just showered and was busy taking a steaming lasagna out of the oven. It had a perfect cheesy crust bubbling on top. The smell of it made Y/N wander into the kitchen who appeared gorgeous having just showered off the game as well. She was wearing Sunni’s tank too and shorts with no bra.

“Sunni OMG!! I can’t wait to try it!” You said coming up behind Sunni and giggling as he kept you from attacking it. You were clearly relaxed and having a great time.

Jack nearly dropped the phone. He fought the urge to jump in his jeep to go over there and punch Sunni in the face. He kept his cool knowing he had no right to be mad anyway. You weren’t his girl and in fact whenever you took a shot in the past he always curved you for some other super girly girl who wore next to nothing and was always what you could never be.

You had no idea how beautiful you were. At some point in time almost every guy in the crew had a crush on you, but decided it wasn’t worth messing up friendship. Jack had always loved you but was expert at shoving his feelings aside. He would distract himself with other girls but as he was getting older, thinking about what was important in life, and spending more time in Louisville, a lot of what he always felt for you became more impossible to hide and his luxury condo seemed so empty.

However in typical Jack fashion he just lashed out at you as he had done all these years whenever he felt something for you. “You know bras are a thing.” He said harshly.

You shrank in embarrassment and subconsciously covered your chest leaving the kitchen.

“Why are you always on her like that bruh?” Sunni said shaking his head as he perfectly portioned out some lasagna with a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder like the chef he was “You know it’s starting to get old.”

“Old?” Jack said taken aback by Sunni’s tone.

“Yeah…and mean.” He said further

“Well fuck don’t let me ruin your special chill night.” Jack said sarcastically rolling his eyes.

“You know what bro?” Sunni said “I like Y/N and she likes me. Okay? So lay off her. She’s not your punching bag anymore. Got it?” Sunni was unaware of the dynamic between you and Jack over the years. You never told him seeing as Jack ignored you every time you let him know you thought of him as more than a friend. Why make something that was never anything a thing?

“Yeah got it loud and clear.” Jack said abruptly ending the FaceTime.

Jack started pacing and opened the freezer hunting for some ice cream. He ate the whole pint and snuggled in with pups to get a good nights sleep, but even his dreams were haunted by images of you laughing on the ground that day, your dimples popping and hazel eyes shining. You were so carefree in spite of so many challenges growing up with just your dad. He was kind of afraid of someone like you because he knew with you there would be no turning back. With you it had to be for real. You weren’t someone he could kiss on the forehead and send home with no emotion after sex.

Jack had barely heard from you in a few weeks. Quick texts here and there let him know you were busy with finals and soccer season coming to a close, but Sunni knew everything you had been up to and Jack couldn’t stand it. He was busy putting the finishing touches on his album and planning tour so he didn’t like you were on his mind so much. He had too much to do to be preoccupied.

Chilling with all the guys at puzzle night at his place he asked Sunni how you were as you couldn’t make it. You were travelling to Lexington to play UK the next day.

“Y/N’s really doing her thing isn’t she?” Jack said wistfully and partially digging for information.

“She sure is. Top scorer and honour student. She’s amazing.” Sunni said off handedly not really wanting to get into it with Jack.

“So you guys a thing or what?” Jack asked slightly insecurely and frustrated he couldn’t find the puzzle piece he wanted, kind of a metaphor for his life at the moment.

“She got a lot going on, but yeah, we’re talking. I’m being a gentleman if you know what I mean. She don’t need anymore bullshit in her life yuh know?” Sunni said as he threw his head back to eat a handful of beer nuts.

“So you haven’t….you know” Jack cautiously inquired

“Um that’s kinda our business bro. Respectfully.” Sunni said tapping Jack on the shoulder signalling he was done with conversation.

“This can’t continue. I gotta let Y/N know how I feel. Let her decide.” Jack said to himself, forever the alpha male not wanting to concede that easily. He decided to drive up to Lexington in the morning. Sunni was one of his best friends. Jack assumed it would be all good if Y/N chose him which of course she was going to do once she knew how he really felt.

@itsyagirljaz @ride4harlow @okaaay-mice

[bluesest]

Do a story about a police offier and a military man who are rivals having a shit holding contest

A Police Station

You might think that in a police office dealing with serious matters such as fugitive investigations, the cops working there must also be serious, but you would be surprised that many of them kill boredom in peculiar ways: Bruce was part of these cops, in fact, he was a military man who constantly worked there, he was a man in his 30's with remarkable muscles thanks to his training at the academy, he was in charge of filling out the data of the different criminals that were captured in the area so they could be processed and sent to jail. He did this job with his partner Dan. Dan was a man in his 30's relaxed and always joking, he trained at the same police academy as Bruce and they always got along badly as both were excellent at the academy and now on the job, they were definitely rivals. They competed in everything: on patrol, at the check-in, and even created their own competitions such as running, lifting, among others. But this time the competition went to a new level. During their coffee break, the two were arguing: Dan: "Don't think you're better than me just because you finished the report earlier…" Bruce: "Please… that shows how efficient I am, and the more efficient a person is, the better they do at work!" Dan: "Really? You're not even a cop!" Bruce: "That's true… I'm somewhat superior to that…" Dan: "If you're a military guy, then why are you working with cops and not other military guys?

Bruce: "Shut the fuck up… *BRRRRRRR* once…." Dan: "What's wrong with you Bruce, did the coffee hurt your weak stomach?" Bruce: "Of course it *PPPFFFFFFTTT* didn't…" Dan: "HA! Did a single cup of coffee really give off such a terrible smell? My stomach is able to handle coffee and much more, it's even better than your weak diarrhea stomach." Bruce: "right… and that time you drank a glass of milk, don't you remember that?" Dan: "THAT MILK WAS BAD!" Bruce: "yeah right…" Dan: "I bet I can hold out longer than you!" Bruce: "Okay… we'll each have to drink what hurts our stomachs, me a cup of hot coffee and you a glass of milk." Dan: "And with Laxatives too! To add more difficulty to the challenge, ready?" Bruce: "Ready." Both taking advantage of their break they left the station and walked to the nearest pharmacy where they bought fast acting laxative powder and together they returned to the station to mix it together with the coffee and milk. Bruce: Are you ready? Dan: Ready to humiliate you? Sure! They both in one sip drank their respective drinks, due to the laxative they tasted bitter, but at least the taste is a seal of quality that the laxative works too well.

Suddenly the boss arrives, a man in his 50's with gray hair, fat and shaggy, and although he is old, the man demonstrates an aura of superiority that instills fear of his inferiors or in general anyone near him. The boss was carrying a cup of hot bitter coffee and saw our protagonists "lounging around." Boss: "What are you two doing here, your coffee hour is over!" Dan: "We're sorry sir, we'll return to our post right away". Chief: "Of course not! Lawkeepers must have discipline, as punishment you must organize the warehouse record boxes at this time!" Bruce: "but…" Chief: "NOW!" With their heads bowed, they both went towards the farthest and darkest room in the station, the warehouse, as they entered through the door a large cloud of dust embraced them as they tried to find the room's light switch. When they turned on the light they saw that they had a lot of work to do and so they got down to work: Bruce organized the titles of the boxes in alphabetical order while Dan cleaned the dust from the place. Bruce: "This is all your fault Dan." Dan: "My fault? If you're the one who wanted to have the receipt when we bought the laxative, we took forever because of you." Bruce: "Technically you're the one who came up with the contest idea" Dan: "don't complain, it's done, how's your tummy doing my little baby". Bruce: "I'm fine and besides I'm not a baby".

Dan: "Sure? Why do I think you'll need a diaper soon?" Bruce: "In this station there are 6 cubicles in the only bathroom, there are only two of us so I don't think anyone here needs a diaper, clown." Dan: "What did you say?" At that moment, Dan threw the broom he was using at that instant at Bruce. Bruce: "WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU! uggghhhh!" Suddenly Bruce grabs his stomach with both hands and starts sweating. Dan: "really, you're a military guy and it hurt something like that? I didn't even pull it hard!" Bruce: "Shut up…" Dan: "Wait, I know what's going on, anger upset your stomach, right?" Bruce: "I said *BURP* you shut up…" Dan: "HAHAHA this challenge is going to be a lot easier than I thought." Bruce still in pain came at Dan and pushed him causing him to fall. Dan: "Hey! BRRRRR oh… *PFFFFFFFTFTTTTTTTTTTTTTT*" Bruce laughed at this situation while Dan was lying on the ground in embarrassment, but Bruce laughed some more, causing a terrible gas to come out of him *PPPPPPPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTT*. Dan: "aghhh it reeks of the typical coffee smell you emanate every day". Bruce: "This is he who rotted our office the day he drank that milk… ugghhhhhh" The tension was growing in the huge warehouse, everyone doing their job, but little by little the effects of the laxative appeared driving our guys crazy. The warehouse being enclosed without any ventilation caused the heat and odors to build up in the air combining them for a toxic cloud that would disgust anyone who smelled it.

Both couldn't stand the smell and the heat, however, admitting it would be a statement of defeat as they couldn't stand the very odors their bodies produced: a mixture of sweat, carbon dioxide and of course the methane produced by their huge, sweaty bubble butts in the tight uniform. Both boys gave up on at least showing their discomfort in the temperature of the place. Bruce: "Wow, I can't stand the BRRRRR heat in here." Dan: "You're telling me, there should be some kind of fan or window around here." Dan starts scanning the place: "Wow this warehouse stinks horrible, and I'm not even in the place we're working… Damn, are there really not even windows in this place? Ha! I guess I know what it's like to be an intern here *BBRRRRRR* oh shit… *BBRRRRRRRR* I should look to see if there are any bathrooms in this warehouse… I don't plan on losing or cheating, just BBRRRRRRRRRRRR agghhh, just…. I'm getting ready for when Bruce gives up so I can show him where the loser's throne is… HAHAHAHAHAH *BBRRRRRRRRRR* there's no… *PPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT* no no no no no *PPPFFFFTTTTTTT* hang in there, hang in there! *PPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTT*… it almost all came out, I hope Bruce gives up soon or I'll have more things to clean up in this warehouse." Meanwhile Bruce tries to concentrate on locating the boxes full of reports and records properly, but gradually his vision becomes blurry and he begins to feel slight dizziness and a swelling in his stomach. Bruce gasps in exhaustion and pain.

Bruce gasps tired and sore, but he must prove that he is the best: "I must keep calm, *BURP* I just need more time, wait a minute, what if Dan ran away and went to use the bathroom, I CAN'T ALLOW IT!" Bruce wearily walks slowly to find Dan, after 5 minutes he finally finds him poking around in the old appliances in the storage room: Bruce: "HEY!" Dan: "AAHHHHHHHHHHHHH *PPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTT*… man enough with that scaring people…" Bruce: "ufffff you're really deflating aren't you, anyway, I came to make sure you didn't cheat trying to get out of the warehouse and find a toilet." Dan: "me cheating? don't you know me or does your mind make you think those things because you're desperate?" Bruce: "of course *PPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT* no…" Dan: "Yuck!" A sound invades the place, it was the creaking door of the warehouse where a young intern is seen entering unannounced. Intern: "ho-hello, the boss asked me to clean the warehouse and… uggghhhh what stinks? No wonder this place needs to be cleaned." Bruce: "Well…" Dan: "You finally got here! We've been waiting for you, on the right is the dust broom." Bruce: "And… you should also organize all these boxes of records in alphabetical order…" Intern: "Okay…" Dan: "Thank you very much boy for choosing to spend your internship here, we will be back soon to see your progress my little cadet." They both fled the place and were saved from working in such high temperatures for a whole day, Bruce was angry because surely the boss sent the intern for Dan and him to help him, but he was left to his fate with a toxic gas in the air, but also, Bruce was grateful to Dan for getting him out of that warehouse hell, now he just had to resist the hell in his stomach until Dan can't take it anymore. An alarming stomach growl invaded Dan's body, suddenly: *PPPFFFFFFFFFTFTTTT* "(oh no, I think here it comes, aghhhhhh I feel like my anus is on fire) … hey Bruce, it really was an oven in the warehouse, I want to cool my face in the…. bathrooms." Bruce: "You really want me to believe that? *BRRRRRR* aghhhh *PPFFFFFFTTT* (I think… I shit my pants, that fart came with surprise) … ok I'm burning up too, come on already BRRRRRR…" They both slyly start walking fast, then run straight to the station bathroom and ran into the surprise of: Dan: "Fuck! There's a long line for the bathroom… Which has six cubicles!" Bruce: "Of course I should have guessed… it's three o'clock, it's the middle of the day, usually that's when most of our fellows get the urge to go pee, or also… well, suffer the effects of coffee…"

Dan: "I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! … from this heat I'm having… there's only one bathroom in this office besides this one!" Bruce: "You're not talking about…" Dan: "You know what I'm talking about." Bruce: "The boss's bathroom… are you crazy?" Dan: "Of course I'm not, at this hour the boss usually frequents a restaurant, so his office is empty, there's only one chance, and only one toilet, I'll get there first." Bruce: "Toilet?" Dan: "I DID NOT SAY THAT!" Bruce: "HA! Do you really want to give up? Ughhhhhhh *PPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTT* *PPRRRRRRR*" Dan: "Don't tell me what…" Bruce: "Fuck you." Then Bruce started running while his wet farts were coming out of his body at an alarming speed, Dan was stunned to learn that his military friend shit his pants, but there was no time, he had to get there first before Bruce. Dan started to run losing control of his bowels: Bruce was approaching the office until suddenly one of his coworkers arrived: Coworker: "Hey Bruce, I heard the boss put you and Dan to work in the warehouse, so I was wondering if you could carry this box there for me?" Bruce: "I…" Suddenly Dan ran past him: Coworker: "That was Dan, why was he running, and why did it start stinking up the place?

Bruce: "Listen I don't have time, it's just…you know…I have to report and…bye." Bruce ran as fast as he could until he could see in the distance how Dan was trying to force the door of the boss's office: Dan: "Fuck, if I apply too much force I'll not only break the door, I'll break my anus too!" Bruce: "GET OUT OF THE WAY!" And with force Bruce broke the door with his forearm, a technique they both learned from the academy, because of that push Bruce fell to the office floor while Dan tried to run, but his legs almost didn't respond to avoid making a mess. Weakened Bruce started to get up and grabbed Dan's elbow: Dan: "Let me use the bathroom first, I'm just going to freshen up, after that you can shit all you want." Bruce: "I don't want to take a shit, I just can't stand the heat, I'll use it first and let you relax your bowels afterwards." Dan: "NO SHIT!" They both started fighting and pushing each other until a misstep caused bruce to back up and clutch his stomach with all his might as the wet gas made its way through his rectum to the outside.

This was taken advantage of by Dan who in desperation began to quickly unbutton his blue pants and began to undress in front of his partner even before he reached the bathroom. His body from the hip down was naked, his sweaty cock and ass were in the air getting oxygen and a break from the tight clothing.

While Bruce looked on in confusion, Dan sat on the toilet without closing the door and finally their struggle ended: *PPPPPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTT* *PPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *QSHQSHQSHQHSSQHQHQSS*. Dan started with a fart and then the pressure was released with a torrent of brown diarrhea, the smell wafted out of the small room and came to flood the entire office: *PPFFFTTT* *QHSHQSHQSHQSHQSHQSHQSHQSHSHSHSHSQHSQSSSSSSSSSSSSS* *PRPRPRPRPSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS* *GASP* *BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSP* The look of pain and satisfaction on Dan's face said it all, apparently he waited for this moment all day in silent agony, his face was red and sweaty. *PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS* "Aggghhhhhhh my god, finally…" In a lull, Dan turned to look at Bruce who was dumbfounded, so much so that his urge to explode the toilet disappeared as well:

Bruce: "Of course not! *FLIPS* that means… I WON!"

Dan: "Fuck you… *BRRRR* *PRPRPRPRPRPRPPSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSQSQSQSQSQSSHSQHHHHHHHHHHHSSS* AGGHHH" Bruce turned and saw Dan's boxer briefs stained with a deep brown liquid which reminded him that: *PPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT* *BRRRRRRRRRRR*. Bruce: "Well, since I won, I'm going to the bathroom right now." Dan: "which bathroom, genius?" Bruce realized what was going on, he won, but at what cost, desperate he asked Dan where he could "break free". Dan with a smirk said, "well, I don't see any trash cans around here, so how about that coffee pot, the boss's favorite."

Bruce: "Of course I'm not going there asshole." Dan: "Well, there are only two other options: either you can shit in your precious green uniform and go home shitting, or you can also shit in the dumpsters in the hallways with an audience obviously!"

Bruce was about to angrily yell at his partner until another cringe made him panic and he did something he would regret all his life: Just like Dan, Bruce started stripping in front of him, freeing his totally sweaty round bubble butt with brown diarrhea stains and desperately put the boss's coffee pot on the floor and sat on it using it as a toilet: *PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS* *PPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTT* *PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS* *PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS* Dan: "Wow, I didn't think you were capable…" Bruce: "Shut up."

*PPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT* *PPPPPPSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS* *SQHSHQSHQSHQHSHQSHQSHSQSHSQHSHSHSSSSSSS* *PPFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT* *BRRRRRRR*.

The smell was putrid, it combined in the air along with the smell emanating from Bruce, they both had a big stomach ache from holding it in for so long. The coffee pot was already half full of a coffee-like liquid, but in taste and smell it was the worst thing in the world, a strange mixture of yesterday's dinner and Bruce's breakfast today.

It should be mentioned that the coffee pot was not wide enough to hide and retain the military man's big ass and penis.

Dan: "you really outdid yourself with this one." Bruce: "ohhhhhhhhhhhhh"

Dan: "But if you think you can outdo me, dude I'm telling you no: *PSPSPSPPSSPPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPS* *PFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT* *PFFFFFFFTTTTT* *PLOP* *PPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRP*" Bruce: "…another competition?" Dan: "We always do weird competitions, a battleshit would be the weirdest of all, more so than this one…" Bruce: "I don't feel like thinking about anything right now… AAAHHHHHHHHHH *PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS* *PFFFFFFFTFTFTTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTF* *PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS* *SQSHQSHQSHQHSHQSHSQSQSQSHSHHHHHHHHH* AGGHHHHH" Dan: "You say you don't want to compete, but that was intentional, wasn't it?" Bruce: "You know coffee makes me sick, obviously it wasn't intentional…oohhhh *BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*"

Dan: "That roar says something else." Bruce: What does it say?Dan: "It says he's setting up heavyweights, and I've already got the guns ready PSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSP SHQSHQSHQSHHQSHHQSHQSHSQHQSHQSHQSHS BRRRRRRRRRR PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPPSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSP"

Bruce: "that was…" Dan: "Unbelievable? I know." Bruce: "Nope, disappointing, look at this… or, rather, smell and listen to this: *PPPFFFFFFFFFFFFTTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTTFTF* *PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS* *PFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT* *PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT* *PRRRRRRRPPRPRPRPRPRPRPR* *SQHSHSHSHSHQHQSHQSHQSHSHS* HA HA HA HA… OHHHH *PLOP* *PFFFTTT* *PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPR*" Dan: "Like this? You haven't seen anything: *PFFTT* *PSPPPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSPSSPSSPSS* *QSHQSHQSHQSHQSHHQSHQSHQSHQSHQHSQHS* *PLOP* *PLOP* *PLOP* *PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *BRBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *BRBRBRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *PFFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFPSSSSSSSSSSSSPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRP* *BRRRRRRRRRR* *PSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH* *SHHQSHSHQSHQSHHSQHSQHQSHQSHQSHQSHS* *PLOP*"

Bruce: "Well….GET READY!: *PFFFTTT* *PRPRPSSSSSSSS*

"Dan: "Apparently you ran out of ammo Bruce."

Bruce: "HAHAHAHAHAH okay, you won at… Who shits the most?"

Dan: "I'll wear that title with honor *PLOP* partner."

Both partners laughed and after 10 minutes fled the crime room without first cleaning the bathroom and throwing the boss's coffee pot in the trash, praying the smell wouldn't clog the office.

[atlantis-just-drowned]

hiya! do you have any hurt // comfort headcanons for pluto x reader? or really just anything pluto x reader. i have to keep going to your post since there is NO pluto content out there. thank you!

A/N: Hi Anon, hope you'll like this, because I had so much fun writing it!! Thank you so much for your ask, I always love receiving new requests from you guys! Don't hesitate to drop some more ideas in my askbox :] Also this small story has barely been edited so I hope it's not too wonky! I might come back to make some small changes later. This can be read as romantic or platonic I think? Anyway, TW for anxiety/panic attack, slight PTSD symptoms, and also this man has little to no self-esteem.

"Who did this to you?"

Please reblog to show support! Likes don't boost posts on Tumblr :(

Masterlist

Thinking about where Pluto went after discovering what Monty has done to his best friend. The way this asshole threw away the few belongings Duke has taken into death, like he has never – not even for a second – seen the magician as a human being. Who deserved respect. Dignity. And was now trapped somewhere, out of the black-haired boy’s reach.

Pluto was unable to get to his friend. All of the efforts he could put on would always be useless. He was defeated. Confronted to Montresor’s absolute hatred of others. Something he could never even fight.

And he has nowhere to hide either, because even his room was shared with one of Annabel’s arrogant little puppets. Where could he go now that his best friend was surely doomed to die again while he was standing there, a weak, helpless, wandering soul, his sore eye bringing up to his mind fuzzy, almost unintelligible words from a past he wish he could forget when he barely remembered it.

His sight was blurry, he was barely able to see the corridors he walked in. It took him far longer than it normally would, before he was finally knocking at your door. He realized only after that he has no idea what to tell you. But it was too late; before he could turn back and hobble away, your door opened, and the abstract form of a face was in front of him.

“Pluto?”

He wouldn’t have been able to recognize you if it wasn’t for your voice. Your tone was laced with a surprise and concern he couldn’t see on your face, but still made his heart tighten. You were worried for him.

What a pathetic thing.

His physical state was probably pitiful enough to give away how beaten up, broken and exhausted he felt, and he hated it. For a second, Pluto would have preferred you to be the one deprived from sight, so he wouldn’t have to be feeling your troubled gaze piercing him. He held himself tighter, and tried to give you a wobbly smile in reassurance.

“H-h-hi…!” he mumbled, and his voice came out so much more broken than he meant it to. He looked down, body trembling, humiliated and wishing he could vaporise in the air rather than stay here.

Right now was too much, he couldn’t handle any more of it. He was going to crumble down any minute.

“Can I… C-Can I come in please?” was all he could stutter out through a tight throat. The mere thought of his breathing being restricted sending alarms in his brain that only succeed in making him panic more.

“Y-yeah of course!”

You sounded shocked, almost. More than just concerned by this point. But he couldn’t even see clearly and your voice was the last thing he could anchor himself to. So he would take it.

The door opened wider and Pluto practically burst into your room before his legs could get a chance to give up on him. Resting his back against the wall next to you, he let himself slide down until he sat on the floor. Legs bent and arms wrapped around them. His head down, forehead pressed against his knees, face hidden in his small, curled up form.

He couldn’t breath. No matter how much he tried, oxygen went in and out of his lungs chaotically, too fast, occasionally missing and choking him up even more as he tried and tried and tried but his efforts were vain and he couldn’t do anything couldn’t think clearly couldn’t stop choking couldn’t stop wishing for it to stop just stop.

Thoughts were swirling in his head so fast he couldn’t catch up on them, the feeling of being small and helpless and in danger at the forefront of his mind, and a distant voice telling him Duke was surely dead and he would probably follow soon enough along with the others and everyone else who wasn’t cruel enough because they were doomed they had been since the moment they had all passed those gates when this unfair wicked stupid painful game has started and now he wanted to get out he just wanted it to stop all he has ever asked for was something to live for a hope for a better future for someone to tell him he would be okay in the end for the world to be brighter he wished it could stop he just wanted-

“Pluto.”

His head shot up and he looked at your figure, barely distinguishable in the blur of nonsensical colours. He hasn’t registered you had kneeled down to his level. Or that you’d been calling him. Or that he has been crying.

“Pluto, can you see me?”

He opened his mouth to answer you, but not even a sound could go past the lump in his throat. So he closed it and shook his head no.

“Okay… Okay.” Your voice sounded like a headlight in the middle of a storm for the shaking mess he was.

“Is it alright if I touch you?”

He didn’t respond right away. Not because he had to think about the answer, but because he struggled to make sense of your distant words, in the chaos howling inside his skull.

Ultimately, he nodded with a slight hesitation.

You didn’t need any more confirmation. Your form moved closer to him, before Pluto felt the palm of your hands on his shoulders gently pulling him forward, until he sat on his knees and his head laid against your chest.

The moment he felt you arms cradle him in a warm embrace, he let out a small, choked up sob. Like a sort of tension has just been released from his body. Before his hands found purchase in the back of your shirt and he almost mechanically clung to you. As if you were a lifeline. Or something warmer. Perhaps a safe haven. A place where he could rest.

His face buried into your chest, he could hear your breathing. Calm. Tranquil. The kind words you were repeating to him like a mantra created a constant melody he could feel behind your ribcage; and he finally allowed himself to get lost into your soothing presence.

Tense muscles relaxed, loosening his tight grip on you. The shaking of his body finally finally subsiding while his breathing calmed down enough to let him get the oxygen he so desperately needed.

The debilitating fog of constant anxious thoughts clouding his brain replaced by you. Your warmth. Your voice. Your kindness. Your fingers running through his hair.

Oh, this was heaven.

He wished he could simply never open his eye again.

For now, he wouldn’t have to.

“I’m… sorry.” he said, his throat no longer as tight as before but still leaving him with a raspy, drained voice.

He listened to you breathing in and out peacefully, before you answered him.

“You don’t have to be. You did nothing wrong.”

Another day, Pluto might have argued that he was still sorry nonetheless. That he felt bad for annoying you this way. But he was too tired to argue, so instead, he tried to give some credit to your words.

It was hard. But if he didn’t unclench his jaw, he would probably get a headache soon enough, and he didn’t want to deal with that now. So he told himself that what you said was true, and pretended to believe it.

Your chest moved up in a deep inhale, and then you sighed. Maybe somewhere, deep down inside of you you knew he didn’t completely think you were right. But if you were aware, you didn’t bring it up.

Instead, you caressed his hair some more before cupping his face and bringing it up and away from your chest to observe him better. Pluto took one more moment to enjoy the relaxing darkness of his closed eyelid, and then his right eye fluttered open again, with a sting, to an abstract blur of colours. So close to you, he could make out a few details – the ways your eyes darted across his face, and the displeased frown on your lips.

“Who did this to you?” You asked softly, carefully approaching a thumb to the blackening outline of his eye, getting a hiss and a withdrawal reflex from him when you brushed the skin there.

You knew the dark-haired boy has spent most of the afternoon searching for his friend. He has asked you for help, and seeing his panicked state, you hadn’t been able to say anything else but “yes”. Sadly, none of the people you had spoken to knew anything about the French magician’s disappearance. But this new bruise told you some more things might have happened since you last saw the one-eyed man a few hours ago.

Replacing his cheek against the palm of your hand, Pluto looked away, a distant, annoyed expression on his face as he grumbled “Monty. Who else?”

You scoffed at his answer. Now that he mentioned it, Montresor has definitely been shooting you some of his annoying, oh-so-punchable self-sufficient glares while you searched for someone who might have seen Duke. You could easily imagine at least a dozen reasons why Pluto and him would have gotten into an argument.

Though, for now, it would probably be better not to ask for any further explanation. Instead, you brought his face closer to yours and pressed a kiss to his forehead, before leading him to lay back against your chest.

He needed comfort. This, at least, was obvious. You’d do your best with the very few informations you had.

“Whatever happened, I’m sure Lenore will find a way to solve this when she comes back.” You spoke softly, holding him tightly against you.

“Right.” He groaned back tiredly, seemingly trying to let your warmth sip through him to make him forget about his day. Sighing, he paused before repeating your words, more to reassure himself than anything else. “Right. Let’s wait for her. She’ll come back. She’ll have a plan.”

“I’m sure she will.” You emphasized his point to help him calm down, while you stroked his back, getting another sigh out of him.

There was a moment of silence, where the two of you simply held each others, allowing yourselves to relax a bit, especially after the events of today. And then, after some time…

“Thank you.”

Pluto’s whisper almost startled you. Opening your eyes in surprise, you looked down at his resting figure, before repositioning your arms a little tighter around him with a sigh, and whispering back.

“You’ll always be welcome.”

Speaking of being welcomed... You remembered about his roommate. The fuss his argument might have caused. And another idea flashed in your head.

“If you want to, you can stay here for tonight.”

The proposition stayed suspended between the two of you for a moment. You couldn’t really tell if Pluto was simply reflecting on his options, or if he was fighting some sort of inner demon telling him he would be a burden.

Knowing him, there might have been a bit of both.

“I… I think I’d like that, actually.”

You’d be a liar if you said you weren’t a bit exited to have him with you tonight. The thought of spending more time with him always brought a smile to your lips. Holding him tight, you buried your face in his hair in contentment.

“Well I like that too. So it’s decided, I’m kidnapping you for the night.”

And when you heard him laugh at your words – timidly, for no longer than a second, but a laugh nonetheless –, you felt prouder of yourself than you had ever been.

[nuh-uh-multi]

Fluent

Hey hey! It's A, posting pretty soon, I know. But I got inspo. Shout-out to one of my friends who helped me come up with the start of this fic lol. Hope y'all like Tony, bc I do 😉

•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•

"Mr.(Y/l/n), Mr.Stark has requested your presence," Jarvis announced from the speaker placed just above your desk. It startled you, as it was well hidden, and you were relatively new here.

"Of course," you said. "Uh, where is he?"

"Top floor," Jarvis replied.

You hurried to the elevator and pushed the corresponding button. You felt as though you were forgetting something, but brushed it off as nerves. Your boss likely just wanted to speak with you about something. What, was the question. Were you in trouble? Had you done something wrong? No, stop, you were getting ahead of yourself, it could be anything.

Your stomach fluttered as you envisioned the conversation. Those deep brown eyes looking into yours, the way he stood so confidently, his rich, smooth voice, but the real kicker, that smirk.

It had made your pulse race since the first time you saw it on TV. That cocky, arrogant, infuriating, and completely stomach flipping smirk. You could only imagine what it must be like to be teased by him. To become so flustered that you couldn't meet his eyes, that he would probably grab your chin and make you look at him, all while saying things to fluster you further, and that perfect little smirk, directed at no one but you.

The elevator dinged and you almost flinched as the doors slid open. You took a deep breath and walked out. There he was, Anthony Edward Stark, his hands on his desk, and his back to you. He quickly turned and held his hand out expectantly. You blinked at him, confused. Tony gave you a quick once over and realized you weren't holding anything.

"Oh, I was expecting you to have that report," he said, his tone serious, but playful. He clearly wasn't mad, but you felt yourself filling with humiliation anyway.

"Oh- oh my god, I'm so sorry, I forgot it downstairs, I-it's done I swear I just forgot it..." you rambled, your face burning.

Tony chuckled and, bless and curse the lords, smirked at you. "Well what exactly did you think I called you here for?" he teased.

Your face flushed somehow hotter. "Oh, um, I guess I didn't really know," you mumbled sheepishly.

Tony chuckled and shook his head slightly. "Well c'mon, we'll just go down and get it. I was about to go for a quick drive anyway," he said with a smile.

You nodded quickly and walked back twords the elevator. You got to the doors and froze, wondering if he expected you to let him in first, or if it would be seen as trying too hard. Tony glanced at you and smiled, gesturing you in.

You, much too quickly, took a step in, and stumbled. You quickly caught yourself and straightened up, but you could feel the back of your neck burning. Tony walked in after you, clearly trying to suppress a smile.

You pressed the button for the correct floor, somehow shocked that you could even think enough to remember which one that was, and watched the doors close.

You both stood in a somewhat awkward silence for a few moments. You opened your mouth to say something and break the silence, but before you could even make a sound, the elevator jolted harshly. You both stumbled, catching the rails on the elevator walls.

After only a few seconds of stunned silence, Tony said, "Aaand the elevator broke." You groaned and slid to the ground.

"So, how good is your elevator repair service?" you asked dryly.

Tony chuckled and said down next to you. "Not great, not horrible."

You sighed, and the irony of the situation was not lost on you. A guy, with a crush on his boss, now stuck in an elevator with said boss. Talk about Hallmark.

"So, how do you pass time in an elevator?" you asked, turning to look at him.

"20 questions?" Tony offered. "I mean, this is kinda the perfect time to get to know your boss," he said, and goddamn it that smirk again.

"Yeah, sure," you agreed. You hummed in thought for a moment, wracking your brain for anything interesting you had read about him. "According to the news," you began awkwardly, "you're fluent in Italian. Is that true?"

Tony laughed softly. "Sure is, my mom was Italian," he answered.

"I don't believe you," you said with a smirk, wildly unsure of how you suddenly had this much confidence.

Tony laughed again. "Oh, is that so? Alright then, quiz me."

You pulled out you phone and found a translator. "What does 'Sono bloccato in un ascensore con il mio capo' mean?"

"I'm stuck in an elevator with my boss," Tony answered confidently.

You raised a brow at him, impressed. "Hm, alright. Those kinda seem like words anyone could study though, so I think I have to keep testing," you said smugly. You typed in something else. "What does 'Un'anatra si avvicinò a un chiosco di limonata' mean?"

Tony snorted and sang, "A duck walked up to a lemonade stand. The "actual" translation is "A duck approached a lemonade stand," but, close enough."

You laughed. "Are you sure you're not wearing an instant translator?" you asked.

"Swear on my life," he replied.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to think of a challenge. Aha, a word he surely doesn't know in Italian, the t-word.

"Alright, fine," you said with a confident smirk. "What does 'Mi piace essere solleticato' mean?"

Tony raised a brow at you. "It means "I like to be tickled." Is that true?"

You could feel your eyes widen and face flush, shocked that he had actually gotten it. "Wow, you weren't kidding when you said you were fluent," you mused, trying to sound more impressed than nervous.

"Hey, don't change the subject," Tony said, grinning widely now. "Is that true?"

Your breaths were short and shallow, so you shook your head. "No" you attempted to say, but your mouth was dry. You swallowed and tried again. "No, of course not, it was just a weird word, so I was quizzing you," you lied.

Tony hummed and scooted just a bit closer. "See, it's a convincing lie, but not with the way you said it," he replied, sliding ever closer until he was sitting right next to you.

"W-what are you doing?" you asked nervously.

"Quizzing you," Tony teased, his fingers skimming your side through your shirt.

You yelped and swatted at his hand.

"Okay, you've passed the first test, you're ticklish" Tony purred with a devious grin. He grabbed your side, giving it a rapid succession of squeezes.

You burst out laughing, trying to move away, but ending up trapped in the corner of the elevator.

"Aw, your laugh is so cute!" Tony praised, smiling genuinely.

"Shut up!" you laughed in return.

Tony clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Aw, that wasn't very nice," he teased, spidering his fingers up your sides and ribs.

"Hey!" you protested, letting out a constant stream of giggles.

"So, for all of my genius, I seem to have some brain fog today. How many ribs do people have?" Tony questioned with a coy grin.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, trying desperately to remember. That was, of course, until you realized it didn't matter. "I-I don't know," you admitted.

Tony chuckled softly and tapped your ribs. "Well I guess I'll just have to count them," he decided. "One, two, three..." With each number, he would gently vibrate his hands over the rib, as well as in the space between ribs.

He was teasing you, goddamn it, and you knew that you both enjoyed it. You giggled like a child, and felt like one too. Carefree, and full of light, refreshing laughter. So you just say there and laughed. As his hands rose to some of the higher ribs, however, you clamped you arms tightly against your sides.

"Hm? Why the change?" Tony asked, his eyes sparkling. "I'm not doing anything different, only going higher-" He cut himself off by swiftly grabbing your wrists and pressing them against the elevator walls above your head. He experimentally wiggled his fingers near your now exposed armpits, without actually touching you.

You squealed and tugged your wrists, already squirming and trying to protect yourself. Tony laughed and smiled brightly. "What? I'm not even touching you!" he teased. "Don't tell me you're this ticklish?"

You blushed and averted your gaze, wishing your hands were free to cover your face. You felt something under your chin, a gentle pulling, and oh my god he was doing it. Tony gently held your head so that you were forced to meet his gaze. "I'm not making fun of you, it's adorable," he murmured admiringly.

You couldn't help but feel your heart swell. Something in his expression made you want to believe him. You could tell that he was being genuine. You didn't know what to say, and thankfully it didn't matter anyway, as he attacked your armpits. His scratching and wiggling fingers forced laughter from you as a result, filling the would-be awkward silence.

Tony stopped almost as quickly as had started, as you immediately started wriggling somewhat violently. "Woah, okay, okay, sorry," he chuckled, still smiling.

"Sorry," you panted sheepishly, offering him a flustered smile.

He returned the gesture and said "Don't be." He leaned back against the elevator wall again. "I like making my employees happy. Plus," he turned to wink and smirk at you, "I told you I was fluent, didn't I?"

[chromatic-crow]

small dick humiliation kink Brandon, send post

‘Little Dew’

Brandon hated the nickname.

The fact that everyone knew it was related to the fact that he was lacking in size down there made it even worse, borderline bullying at this point. The guys give him shit about it, always asking if he can even do anything with it, making sure to tell the girls at the bar that he’s trying to pick up before they scoff or worse, laugh at him as they walk away.

And, somehow, he’s wound up making out with Connor, not even remembering how it started. Too many drinks, or maybe he just doesn’t care anymore. Choosing to take what he can get anyway he can and maybe -

Connor pushes him to the bed, a small snort coming from him as he looks Brandon up and down. Connor has a mean smile on his face, he squirms a bit, already knowing exactly what's coming as he undoes Brandon’s pants and pulls them down.

“Hm kinda figured it would have, I don’t know, been bigger hard?” Brandon shuts his eyes, trying to pretend that his dick didn’t just kick and drool onto his stomach at the words, “‘s cute though.”

Connor said it with a breathy chuckle as Brandon cracks an eye open to see him kneeling between his legs to look closer at it. This usually happens, the curiosity, the humiliation and knowing he’s going to get rejected for anything further than maybe a handy or blowjob. He can’t even bring himself to look at Connor, not wanting to see what he’s thinking through facial expressions.

“Have you ever fucked anyone with it? Can’t imagine someone would even feel it…almost wanna see you jerk yourself off, doubt you would even see it would even peek out of your fist,” he feels his thighs quiver a bit, more precum leaking out, “are you…holy shit, you are getting off on this.”

Brandon screws his eyes shut, whimper escaping him, fuck he wants to hate it, really does but it just does something for him. The meanness of it always gets him, and the fact that it’s Connor only makes it hotter.

He shouts as Connor takes all of him into his mouth, dick barely touching the soft palate in his mouth, the sudden warm wetness completely surrounding him before he pulls off.

“Bet you could fuck my mouth without any issue, not like you would choke me.” he lets out a moan, hating how pathetic he sounds as Connor teases him before swallowing again him in one motion. Connor brings a hand up to roll his balls, making Brandon’s hips thrust up into his mouth. He hears, or rather feels him laugh around him, that being all it takes as he comes into Connor’s mouth. 

Brandon covers his face in embarrassment as Connor pulls off with a louder laugh. He honestly wants to go and hide, but Connor pats his hip, making him peek through his fingers, seeing his cum dripping down Connor’s chin as he smirks.

“How many hook ups wind up fucking you? Girls ever bring out the strap and just go to town on you?” he tries to roll his face to the side, wanting nothing more but to not be seen as he feels himself getting hard again already, “ oh my god Dew really? You love this, don’t you?”

Connor’s hand goes to his ass, slightly damp fingers rubbing against his hole as he sucks in a breath, hands flying to grip the sheets beside his head. 

“You probably like being fucked, not like you can do much with this, huh?” a hand wraps around Brandon’s dick, looking even smaller in Connor’s hand as he tries to squirm away from the touch, overstimulated and ready to go again. This really shouldn’t turn him on this much, already starting to leak again. 

Everything leaves him at once, Connor getting up and walking to his suitcase and he can’t even look anywhere but the ceiling, wishing the bed would swallow him whole as Connor comes back. He hears something open, probably lube and suddenly two slick fingers rubbing against him again as he squirms, trying to get away but also push against them. Too much but not enough even as the first finger enters with ease before the second one is added with minimal resistance.

“Shit, already so loose. How many teammates have you let fuck you so far?” Brandon can’t even answer as he feels the slick head of Connor’s dick start to push in, loud gasp leaving him as he settles all the way in, “bet you would be a good team slut, let everyone - fuck - have a turn with you. You’d like that huh?”

He tries to hide his face again, hating how his body betraying him, hating how turned on he is at the idea of the guys all taking a turn with him as Connor fucks him. He tries to be quiet, biting through his lip, not wanting to sound desperate, but Connor knows. Connor always knows.

“Wonder how many times we could get you to come? Probably more than a few times, yeah?” he whimpers at that, the quick pace of Connor’s hips meeting his getting him just close enough and he wants to-

“No no, no touching yourself,” a frustrated groan, really a whine, leaves him, “cute, just. Fuck.”

Connor’s hips speed up, rhythm faltering as Brandon arches his back, everything going fuzzy as he comes again, shouting as Connor fucks him through it before pulling out. He barely registers the cum hitting his stomach, completely out of it as he pants.

Brandon wakes up at some point the next morning, way too early and naked, but cleaned up and in bed, a silhouette of another body across from him in the bed, not remembering anything after coming the second time. He scoots towards the body next to him, Connor his half asleep brain supplies, and presses himself up behind him as Connor lets out a sigh in his sleep.

[sebastiansluts]

Okay if you don’t mind then I have a request for my birthday you can post it on 19th april or after it’s fine tbh don’t overwork yourself cause I will be angry at you D:<< cause remember there’s another reader but there’s no other you <3 also I’m so horny thinking about this so… yeah this is the slut inside of me telling me to release her

Okay so my request is mean!Bucky where he bullies the reader cause he’s secretly in love w her so he makes her do his homework but she accidentally give him a bad grade and so he’s angry saying something like “you’re going to regret to ever humiliates me with this shit” and he makes fun of her in public like pulling at her skirt and tugging her hair and everyone else will just laugh and stare at her. Then he pulls her up with her undies and give her wedgies and say “aw little slut is using cute underwear for everyone else to see pathetic” but she can’t help being wet over it. Then drags her to his car and goes to his place and he humiliates her. When they get in his room he hangs her by her panties and put her in his closet and like “you can stay over there while I do something else more important” and he sets up a camera and then goes back and drags her by her hair. Then he makes her hump his shoe while telling her to watch her in the mirror being a fucktoy and she blushes. Then he spanks her while trapping her head on his cock and then he finally fucks her saying “wouldn’t it be funny if I cum inside you and getting you pregnant, then you’re really is a slut like everyone is saying” and while she struggles he slaps her to shut her up and pissing inside of her. At the end he’s like “everyone else but me will be horrified looking at how much of a whore you are luckily you have me, don’t you doll”

Happy birthday babe!!!!! I hope this is what you were looking for!!! <;3

Bucky Barnes x Reader; mean/bully!bucky, dub/non con, public humiliation, wedgies, panty hanging?, video recording, shoe riding, facefucking, rough oral sex m receiving, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, degradation, piss kink- piss in pussy,

ANY HATE WILL BE DELETED THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE DON’T LIKE, DON’T INTERACT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

“I got a fucking ‘D’! You said I was guaranteed a ‘B’ you idiot! Now I have to ace the damn test or I’m in shit with the teacher. You’re gonna make sure I pass it or else… You’re gonna fucking regret ever humiliating me with this pathetic shit you call homework. C’mon,” Bucky growled, grabbing your upper arm and forcing you to follow after him, stumbling out of the lecture hall. He brought you to the lower commons, a grassy field out of the main trek, where only the frat guys hung out, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes and weed alike, fucking sorority girls out in the open. 

“Heyyy there’s Buck and his little tutor girl, finally comin’ to play?” one of the guy called out, as you and Bucky approached a little cluster of frat bros. 

“Maybe, I mean, look at her! Wearin’ a skirt to her knees like a fuckin’ nun,” Bucky laughed as he reached down and tugged on your skirt, lifting it until your underwear was visible. “Aw, look, the little slut is wearing cute underwear for everyone else to see, how pathetic. Oughta be wearing fuckin’ granny panties not these cute things. They are good for one thing though,” he grinned maliciously, reaching behind you and grabbing the panties, yanking them tight against you, making you squeal. His friends laughed, egging Bucky on as he mocked you.

Bucky dropped your skirt and pulled at your ponytail, drawing your head back, another squeak falling from your lips. “Shut up doll, you don’t get to speak after fuckin’ up my assignment. In fact, I have a better idea than fuckin’ here. Sorry boys, you’ll see more later,” he said, turning around and waving at his friends, his other stand still holding your panties tight against your clit and holes, forcing you to walk that way, the fabric rubbing and making you clench emptily, wetting the material. 

Bucky walked you to his car, keeping his hand under your skirt, but from the top now, holding your panties high and tight, keeping you on your toes. He pushed you into the passenger seat, buckling you in before you could fix your underwear, then he grabbed your arms and pressed them to the seat. 

“Don’t fuckin’ move,” he warned, and you nodded, flinching as he slammed the door shut, walking around the front of the car and climbing into the driver’s side. Bucky kept one hand firmly on your thigh, massaging it light then hard, as he drove back to his off campus apartment. 

By the time the two of you got there, Bucky parking in his usual spot, you had bruises developing on your thigh and you couldn’t stop shifting, feeling your panties rub against your clit, making you wetter. You were embarrassed, but Bucky just grinned at you before climbing out and circling around and pulling you out of the car. His hand was tight on your upper arm, dragging you after him as he went into his building, pushing you into an elevator. 

Bucky pushed a button then pressed you up against the wall, slotting his knee in between your legs. “Go on doll, know you’re desperate, do it,” he goaded, and you whimpered, hesitantly rocking your hips, dragging your pussy over his thigh. You squirmed, the denim of his jeans rough against your lower lips, but you couldn’t stop, it feeling too good. 

Bucky suddenly pulled away, laughing when you stumbled forwards. He caught you, grabbing your pulled up panties again. “Pathetic, can’t even get yourself off,” he taunted, steering you out of the elevator and towards his apartment door. He unlocked it, pushing you through and kicking the door shut behind him. 

“Take that ridiculous fuckin’ skirt off. I don’t know why you insist on wearin’ it, you know it drives me crazy,” Bucky ordered and you quickly shed it, letting it fall to the floor. He walked over to you, hands sliding over your ass cheeks, squeezing them before grabbing your panties again. 

You squeaked, hands falling to Bucky’s chest as he walked you two over to his bedroom. He pushed you into his closet, grabbing one of his pants hangers, and clipping it to your underwear. 

“Bend over doll, hands on the ground. You need to hang out for a bit while I get everything set up.” You did as he said, bending at the waist and placing your hands on the floor, squealing as Bucky lifted you onto your toes and fingertips, putting the hanger on the rod, making you balance most of your weight on your extremities so nothing would break. 

Bucky walked away and you watched him, your clit throbbing from the steady pressure, your holes aching and raw, but you were wetter than ever, humiliated and horrified at yourself, but desperate for more. 

Bucky set some things up around the room while you mostly hung there, just barely propped up, your muscles screaming with exhaustion from being stretched out for so long. He finally came back over, unhooking the hanger and unclipping it from your panties, so stretched out they were more than halfway up your back. 

You looked up, flinching when you saw the camera. Bucky tsked, grabbing your hair in his fist and pulling you forwards, making you stumble against him until he pushed you to the floor, forcing you to crawl towards the chair he had set up in view of the camera. 

He sat down, forcing your head down with him, grinding your face into his crotch. You inhaled, mouth watering as he undid his pants, his big, hard cock springing up and slapping you in the face. You gasped, eyes fluttering as you kissed his cock, trying to make him happy. 

He just stared at you, before inhaling deeply and forcing your head away from his dick. “You’re gonna hump my shoe and watch yourself do it, until I say to stop, understand?” 

You nodded as best you could, gasping out, “Yes, Bucky.” You started dragging your pussy over his shoe, the panties and laces of his shoes combining to create a horribly perfect friction against your clit.

“God lookit you, you’re just a little fucktoy,” Bucky muttered, and you blushed, cheeks heating up as looked up at him, his eyes dark and his own cheeks flushed. Bucky groaned, rocking his hips back and forth a few times, rutting his dick back against your lips before he forced you to open, pushing your head down on him until his cock was down your throat. He held you there, listening to choke and gurgle, swallowing reflexively as your throat started to spasm. He reached over you, pressing his chest into your head as he spanked your bare ass hard, making you lurch and spasm around him again. 

Bucky finally dragged you off his dick, laughing as you coughed. “Pathetic slut, you can’t even take a cock, well, you’re gonna learn real quick,” he groaned as he pulled you up onto his lap, rubbing the tip of his cock against your raw and soaked pussy. 

“See, such a fuckin’ slut, you want me to fuck you don’t you baby, go on, say it doll,” Bucky teased, keeping his dick rubbing your cunt, poking at your clit, his fingers pushing your panties out of the way so he could slide his tip along your folds. 

“Please Bucky! F-fuck me!” You cried, and he dropped you on his dick, making you scream as you were impaled. It felt like he was in your stomach, you were fuller than ever, twitching in his arms as he fucked up into you. 

“There it fuckin’ is, knew it, knew you wanted me, fuckin’ mine now doll, hope you know that. ‘Magine I actually got you pregnant, cause I am gonna breed you baby, so just imagine, you’re fuckin’ pregnant cos’ a’me, then you’d really be that slut everyone says you are.” Bucky sounded wondrous, and you struggled against him, too full and too confused and too close, his dick hitting all kinds of spots inside you. 

“Bucky please, I-” He slapped you, shutting you up quickly as you blinked, getting your bearings. 

“I’m gonna get you pregnant, and you’re gonna be mine, for-fuckin’-ever, you understand me? You’re- fuck- mine,” Bucky groaned as he came, filling you with his cum, ropes of it shooting inside you. You sighed, slumping against him, feeling a strange sensation inside you. 

Bucky sighed heavily, and you realized he was pissing inside you. You moaned, the feeling so foreign but not unwelcome, making you feel fuller than before, wetter than before.

Bucky kept you sitting on his dick, keeping his piss plugged up inside you, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. “Everyone but would be horrified seeing how much of a whore you are. Lucky you have me, aren’t you doll?”

[lumnries]

┆．pairings stan marsh x gn reader ft. kenny

┆．synopsis stan’s been friends with you since 4th grade, how does he feel realizing he holds feelings for you?

┆．cw not proofread

✉️ … this is my first blog post SO i just wanna say my reqs are open !!!! hmu, you can find my rules here :D i don’t write a lot so this got a bit poor but i tried my best <\3 I FORGOT TO MENTION, THEY’RE IN HIGHSCHOOL HERE 😭😭😭

he doesn’t really realize at first, he’s always noticed how his heart beats faster whenever you were around but never really thought much about it.

it was on the first of the month he recognized his feelings for you. he doesn’t know what to do, should he tell you or keep it to himself? he ponders about it for a bit while walking down the halls. as he reached his locker, he sees you hesitantly talking with kenny. it doesn’t help that both your lockers are right next to each other, but that’s besides the point. he’s more focused on finding out what you guys are taking about.

“hey, why are you guys whispering?” he asks as he opens his locker. only then do you turn around, and god does he feel like disappearing. “stan… it’s nothing.” he stops for a moment. & stares at you, he promptly takes note of your flushed expression & mentally frowns. “well, alright. where are the others?” he closes his locker as he looks at the both of you. kenny seems indifferent but he doesn’t fail to see the slight smirk he wears. now, his dejection is plastered all over his face. an expression of dumbstruck takes over you. “stan? what’s wrong?” you ask, his previous state nowhere to be seen. “don’t worry, i just remembered i had to do something.” giving you no time to speak, stan rushes away.

“seems like he’s discovered something.” kenny disrupts you from your train of thoughts. “kenny, this isn’t the time. he was probably upset about something else.” he shrugs. before you can add on another comment, the bell rings indicating the start of the first period. “shit. let’s talk again later at lunch.” you hurriedly walk to your class as kenny follows behind you. sighing, you open the door to your classroom only to be greeted by your teachers scowling face. you apologize, walking to your seat. you sit down, fixated on your teachers discussion — unaware of a certain someone’s gaze.

suddenly, it’s already lunch. you wait in line with the others in front, allowing you to consider how you actually feel. if you’re gonna be honest to yourself, you’ve probably felt this way towards stan for months now; but you’ve never bothered to express your feelings as he’s always been interested in wendy. but, kenny has certainly made you doubt yourself. you weren’t stupid, you noticed how he seemed to fidget whenever you were around or how his face seemed to slightly burn crimson whenever you complimented him. you sigh, confused by his change in behavior.

& just like that, the day ends. you say your goodbyes to your friends as you walk home. the cool breeze hitting you. your days went on just like this, days turned into weeks & the end of the month eventually got closer. it was the 31st. your day went on how it usually was, but nobody could imagine the stunned look on your face when stan told you to meet him at stark’s pond after class. your heart was racing as you were approaching the said location. you reached the lake, seeing the familiar figure of your friend.

he himself was painted with an embarrassed look. your mind went blank as he got closer & opened his mouth. “y/n, i’m slo glad you came. this is kinda humiliating. i mean, seeing me like this.” he stammers as he talks, “okay, i know this might be sudden but i like you. recently, i’ve started contemplating about how i felt towards you. and i’ve come to the conclusion that i’m absolutely fucked whenever i think of you because i just can’t seem to get you out of my head.” your gaze follows him as he turns his head, looking away. you hold his hands, seemingly making the raven haired boy redden even more. despite this, he doesn’t seem to mind.

“stan. i like you too, you don’t understand how happy i am just being in your presence. i’ve loved you since last year, i just couldn’t stand the idea of ruining our friendship over something i can’t control. just being together with you was enough, but now i’m not so sure.” he’s finally looking at you. your heart feels like bursting. he brings his face closer to yours, as you guys embrace each other. the warmth you felt that day couldn’t be described. & as the month finished, so was the constant confusion of your relationship with the boy you’ve liked.

[quirkydog22]

Sending my verbally abusive English Professor to the Director’s office after he humiliated me in front of the entire class for not having a book in front of me

Well…time to tell what happened with this certain Professor. I’ve held back on telling this or even posting this for an entire year but I’m not at that school anymore and I honestly don’t care now. I’m posting this to spread awareness which I should’ve done once it happened but I was just too scared if anyone from that school found out but like I said, I don’t care and I’m spreading awareness. Someone asked me to delete it from Instagram and tried to upload it to Reddit but it wouldn’t let me so I’m posting it here instead.

(Side Note: I’m a student with a learning disability but it’s mostly my memory that’s affected and it causes me to be a bit slower in doing classwork but I can catch up just fine. I can be faster with doing physical tasks as long as you can show me how to do a task)

This happened last year in the fall and I want to talk about my experience with two different public colleges (not saying which ones for obvious reasons) because last year of October, November and December, this incident occurred and this wasn’t the only incident where a teacher was rude. I had a few teachers (and a few students in my elementary school years, a toxic friend and one obsessed classmate who came over almost everyday as it was annoying to not only me but also my sister; mainly one or two teachers and one where I went to summer school when I was younger) who didn’t really like me.

Except…none of the other bad teachers in my past acted like this and it baffled me (and the entire class mind you) to see a professor humiliate and embarrass a student which still shocks me to this day and wondering if he did this to other students in the past and if he had gotten away with it. Anyways I went into class like normal and the first time this happened, I didn’t really remember much with the first two occurrences (there were three incidents with this professor in the span of 3 months, shocking I know) but I walked into class like normal and mind you, I didn’t have any money for books or any Financial Aid for that matter so I couldn’t get the books either way.

My only option was to get those books online (laptop and phone) and the Professor said that we were going to read from the books but I didn’t have any money like I said before. Earlier, I was reading from my phone trying to find the pages because I couldn’t find the file on my laptop and then felt his presence behind me. I started getting Anxiety from him just standing there and he told me, that if I’m gonna be goofing off in his class then I should just leave and not come back for the day. Like I was trying to find the page on my phone to participate.

He then said that we would be reading from the book and this is where shit went down. Everyone from the class had already read and I couldn’t find the page number because he distracted me earlier and when it was my turn, I was still trying to find the page number on my phone. He then told the entire class that I had the book from my phone then proceeded to call me stupid and crazy in front of the entire class but that wasn’t all…oh no there’s more.

He went in front of my desk and then started talking down to me and that made my Anxiety even worse and I even shed a few tears. He then yelled at me to get out of his classroom right now and that’s when I just couldn’t stand or take his verbal abusive in this toxic environment anymore so I just left to the woman’s restroom having my third Anxiety attack for the third month.

The only guy friend that I made in this class didn’t want me to be alone so he stayed inside the building with me. At one point, the Professor left his classroom and walked towards our direction, he talked to my guy friend a bit but he was glaring at me as he walked passed. I didn’t look him in the eyes due to the fact that I was absolutely scared shitless of what he was going to do to me.

Eventually everything cooled down but I was still a bit shaken from the whole thing so, I went to the mall to grab something to eat but from the incident that happened earlier, I didn’t really want to eat. While I was in the bathroom of the school, I called my best friend after these three different incidents from the Professor and she told me to go to the dean and to report him and his behavior. I then hung up on her saying that I would.

This had not only affected my mental health but it also caused me to eat a lot less and to doubt myself completely. On top of that, I couldn’t focus on my other classes except for my English class; I stopped paying attention and even procrastinated on my assignments just to fail my other classes in the end. I finally decided to tell my older sister about what happened and she was listening and pretty calm about it.

But the next day, she arrived at the house and told my mom and even my mom was shocked to hear about this. My mom questioned me and asked me if this was true and I replied with yes as she went upstairs to change to go with us, probably ready to crack his skull open. We all went to the director, I told her what happened, said that my only friend in class was a witness as well as the rest of the students since it did happen in a classroom but no one except my friend stood up for me.

The director said told that’s not how we do things at this school and she’s so sorry that this happened to me and they will for sure be investigating. My sister tells her how I can’t defend myself verbally and my mom even started crying as she spoke to the director. The director told me, she doesn’t want to make me uncomfortable but… I did have to be in his class in order to keep participating and I was like that’s fine but in all honesty, I didn’t want to be in that class any longer or even go to that school anymore and had to be there for another week and I even told the director that I just wouldn’t go to this school anymore and go to the better college in my area and just transfer.

The director even tried giving me a speech about how I should stay at the school even after I told her that I wouldn’t be at this school next semester…let me tell you this; if a student (any student with or without a disability) says that the teacher yelled at them and embarrassed them in front of the class so harshly and doesn’t want to be in a classroom with someone who says that they are far less intelligent and won’t amount to anything in life…you honestly think that student wouldn’t want to stay in the same place as the professor, much less wanting to stay in the school where the professor works.

I went to class the following week and we had an essay due in one week and that week was finals. The essay was our final assignment of the semester and I just wanted it done and over with so that I can pay my classes, get my transcripts then leave the school and not go back anymore because of the incident with this certain professor.

I completed the essay in the span of two days, not even the entire week as it was supposed to be turned in the following Wednesday of the month. I went to school, printed it out before class and turned it in. I waited for about a day or two but I actually managed to pass my English class with a B and my Art classes…All F’s. My mental health was so drained that I couldn’t do my finals in my Art classes well enough and when the semester ended, not o it did I fail my Art classes, I also took a pointless coding class for three months from January until mid-March and somehow passed. Went to New Jersey with my Best friend and we had a blast but it was over and now it was time to go to the better college in my area to transfer and get out of that awful school with that terrible teacher.

In the following Fall semester, I went to the better college (as previously mentioned) in my state and let me tell you, it was one of the best decisions that I have ever made; my mental and emotional heath has never been better than before, my professors are nicer to me, the food is better than mall food and I’ve decided to go to the gym (to improve my mental and physical health) and at my school they allow a free subscription for the students to the gym and I now have a workout plan with my own personal trainer to workout with.

I even plan on selling my Art on a website either during or after college and that a friend of my sister’s said she would help set it up for me. I even plan on getting a new Art program to make a comic series and post it to Webtoon once my scripts are completely written out because the other Art program that I was using had a monthly subscription service but I already cancelled it in order to buy the newer one that I’m getting tomorrow during Black Friday.

I do have to go back to the specific school where I was humiliated and embarrassed by the professor but it’s to get my official Transcripts and I’ll ask the Director what happened with that professor so that I can update you all. If you guys want more stories about awful teachers and even awful classmates then I have plenty to share (more specifically about these 4 girls from different grades, one toxic friend and also one obsessed classmate who trapped me on her roof but these stories are for another time)

Another note: Before going to the better college in my area, I went to my old high school to visit some of my teachers and I told them the experience that I had with that professor and a few of them were either shocked and surprised or they felt sorry for me about that. My old History teacher pointed something out; that professor probably either has anger issues or bipolar disorder from the incident that I told him.

Anyways, if you guys want more stories about other terrible teachers or even some crazy classmate stories (including the one obsessed acquaintance who trapped me on her roof) then let me know in the comments down below and I’ll be happy to share more!

Thanks for coming to my TedTalk and Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

[goatlingsvent]

Ah, yes, I see you people still do not know what is copyrightable and what isn’t.

I get secondhand humiliation for you guys whenever I read one of your crybaby posts about BBR. It’s like, you guys are so sheltered, innocent, sweet summer children. Young and dumb. I am old enough to remember people calling digimon knock off pokemon. People tried to say Digimon would, and quote “be ripped apart in a courtroom”, WELL THE FUCK OVER TWENTY YEARS LATER, I am still waiting.

It won’t happen, it CANT happen. Everyone saying it can happen and “oh, she should be concerned about x company that could take her dOWN,” should actually be more concerned for themselves. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know your rights. You don’t know how legalities work, clearly. None of you can just admit that you don’t like the design. Youre so self obsessed, you have to come up with these fake ass reasons to not like a generic design. And now, you’re all pissed that BBR is winning so you have to go off about it again, when the majority of you were users that said you weren’t going to participate in the first place, but cannot actually help yourselves because you’re that greedy for the goats. You KNEW she was gonna win. All of you hopped up on the hateorade who joined Team Abyssal thinking you could somehow change the tides inherently knew she was gonna win, and now you’re pissed off about being on the losing team. Every single one of you are bluffing, and everyone with an actual brain knows it by now, that’s why no one takes any of you seriously when you say things like you’re boycotting, or you’re leaving. You not leaving, bitch. You’re still here. You not boycotting, bitch. You’re still participating. You don’t have it IN YOU to walk away.

Ruby Rose is not special. She is not unique. Ruby Rose is a basic ass bitch who looks like every other basic ass bitch dark little red riding hood design. Little red hiding hood IS ALSO a basic ass bitch. It’s all Talentless. Ridiculous. Boring. Always the same. Totally like every other dark little red riding hood design. Completely been done before.

⛔