#electric tongue jack

[bestpickme]

ELECTRIC JACKS: Best Electric Tongue Jack for Travel Trailer [ TOP 5 PIC...

[rendellstreet]

Xiaolin Showdown would've been so much better if Jack Spicer acted just as mean, snarky, and catty as he did with the monks and Wuya with Chase Young. He would've gagged him so bad.

[s0dium]

Needy

Pervert!Yuuta x Reader

Synopsis: Yuuta has avoided the touch of women for years due to having a homicidal jealous curse attached to him. Hell, he has even avoided touching himself. But something happens that makes him break

Warning: Male masturbation, pillow humping, edging, mentions of breeding, pining

Pt.2

~

Having a homicidal jealous curse attached to you 24/7 that threatens to murder any woman that comes close to you, changes a man.

In Yuuta's case that meant that sex was out of the question. In fact, everything involving the slightest bit of physical intimacy was out of the question. Handshake? Yuuta would rather not risk it. Hugging? Sure if you wanted to get your head chopped off. Even when Yuuta joined Jujutsu High and became able to control Rika better, his ways of avoiding women had already been so ingrained into him, that any kind of intimacy was just foreign to him.

This didn't mean the Yuuta didn't think about it. He even indulged in the small things, like replaying the sex scene in a movie or eying the women in Todo's magazines he would bring on occasion. But that wasn't enough to quell the thrumming in his head or the whisper in the back of his mind craving more. Yuuta truly thought he could ignore it all though, that is, until he met you.

At first, it was easy for him to treat you as nothing more than a friend, a classmate. He could ignore how peculiarly beautiful and kind you were. He could brush off how your witty remarks during tough missions always made him laugh, and how the light, airy giggles that escaped your mouth when Yuuta did something unintentionally funny made butterflies swarm in his stomach. Then summer rolled around, and you started wearing more revealing clothes—short skirts and tights instead of long pants, which were apparently "easier to train in" you told him.

And it was only when you innocently bent over to pick something up one afternoon, when Yuuta accidentally caught a glimpse of your white underwear that dug into the fat of your plump butt, that the dam finally broke. When you turned around to bashfully apologize for accidentally flashing him, Yuuta was already gone. Unbeknownst to you, he had fled to his dorm room, struggling to hide his painfully hard dick in his pants.

Yuuta barely makes it to his bed before he is pulling down his black uniform pants and wrapping a shaky hand around his thick cock. He's not an idiot, he knows how to jack off, but there is something different right now. When in the past the few times he touched himself was to quickly get rid of arousal, now Yuuta finds himself yearning for something more.

He slowly drags his hand down his shaft and the satisfaction is immediate: just one stroke sent electric flesh arrows of pleasure through his entire body. The pleasure is mind-numbing, and just a taste of it has him yearning for more.

“Oh fuh-“ Yuuta's voice comes out breathless. He screws his eyes shut and darts a tongue across his lips to wet them. Almost immediately his mind wonders back to you, how delicious your ass looked, how beautiful you are, how beautiful you would be with your lips wrapped around his dick. How would your breasts feel in his palm? What would your face look like if he tweaked and sucked on your nipples? God, what would your pussy feel like.

Pap pap. Yuuta was starting to create a semi fast rhythm, white precum collecting in the spaces of his fingers as he furiously glided his tight grip up and down his dick. He doesn't just want to think about you; he wants to obsess over you. He doesn't just want to feel pleasure; he wants to drown in it. No, he wants to drown in you.

He's practically panting right now imaging himself inside you. If he felt good right now, how good would the real thing be? Oh he bet the squeeze around his dick would be delicious, he can practically hear you whining his name. Yuuta's legs trembled as his hand gilded over his overstimulated red tip and down to his heavy balls. Jesus this was good, so good, he needed more, Yuuta needed more friction because god if he couldn't have your pussy right now he at least needed to pretend.

Through heavy pleasure-filled lidded eyes, he glanced to the pillow next time him.

He was becoming greedy.

Fuck it.

Without much of a thought, Yuuta grabbed the pillow, folded it in half, laid on his side, hastily put his dick between the white cloth, and started to thrust. The friction is delicious. It makes his toes curl and desperately thrusts his hips into the soft pillow.

“Mmmm,  mmm mhm” he whimpers. Your name is on the tip of his tongue, but he can barely speak so much as think. There’s a tingly warm feeling building in his stomach, the pleasure is overtaking him. What would you think if you could see him like this? Would you call him a pervert or maybe would you help him? Oh, what a dream that would be, your soft hands wrapped around him, oh he bet that you could make him feel better than this pillow ever could.

“Ah-Ah Y/n please….” The thought of you is consuming him, you don’t know it but you are giving him the best pleasure he has ever experienced in his life. Yuutas thrusts are becoming frantic, desperate, he could taste his release on the tip of his tongue. His black hair is starting to stick to his forehead from the sweat and he realized he should have taken off his white uniform coat because it was getting so hot. He was so close, so close to cumming, he hates how this pillow isnt you, isn't your pussy, after this, he promises to himself that he won't ignore you or your beauty anymore, he’ll obsess over you, kiss the ground you walk on, he’ll take care of you so good and -and oh, oh my god, he wants to breed you, fill you with cum-

“Ah-ahhh~”

Yuuta’s hips stutter into the pillow and thick ropes of cum coat the fabric. The pleasure makes his legs and mind go numb and he’s left panting, whimpering from the after shocks.

No, after this Yuuta will never avoid you again.

[hitomisuzuya]

it’s always nerd scara x reader, what about nerd reader who scara thinks is inexperienced, but they give him a real good time🫣

scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. blowjob. riding. virgin! reader.

anything for you, my dear❤️ scara is about to get real humbled. i am blowing you kisses with this once i post it. mwah!

the blush on your cheeks couldn't have been darker seeing the way scaramouche was looking at you. it was predatory, a wolf staring down the prey he is finally going to get to devour. his smirk as he spoke very obviously showed the dark excitement. "i'll bet you are a virgin," his mouth watered seeing the way you looked away shyly.

"what does that have to do with anything?" you posed the question to him to cover up how flustered you really are. naturally, more words came out. "and anyways, is virginity really a concept? it's the first time someone has sex with someone, right?"

despite the aching in his cock, scaramouche was curious to see where this went. "brilliant deduction, sherlock. go on," he crossed his arms.

you continued once he raised an eyebrow. "so say you have sex with someone for the first time, and then you go have sex with someone else for the first time? does that make you a virgin again?"

look at you, turning such a concept on its head and sideways. he swore he felt his cock get harder. it didn't make any sense to him, but he logically hadn't thought of it that way before.

cute, foolish blustering.

he was going to fucking ruin you.

"it's all about sensation. anyone who even reads about sex or even..even watch it," he almost snorted at how twice as shy you sounded, hardly being able to say porn. "i'll prove it," even as you said it, holding your head a little high, he could tell you were second guessing yourself.

you'd had to speak fast, before he could cut in a biting comment that would make you lose brittle confidence. but, you fiercely knew you had to stand your ground.

especially with scara.

scaramouche certainly didn't expect to be in the position he was in now. he wanted to see you beg and crumble apart, beg for him to take care of you because you didn't know what you were doing. shatter in your desperation to have his cock impaling you.

the shoe had never been on the other foot so much in his life.

his electric eyes are a little wide with shock as he looked down at you on your knees, looking impossibly cute with your tongue licking slow lines up and down his cock.

he hissed through his teeth as you prodded your tongue in his slit, circling his cockhead before sucking until drool rolled down his cock. he squirmed as you lowered your mouth on his cock, slowly flattening your tongue as his it pulsed against it.

you were taking the concept of sensation and smashing it with a well thrown rock.

his legs shook, his hand folding a handful of your hair into his hand. his eyes nearly rolled back in his head, his hips jerking up to push his cock deeper into your mouth. you were sucking and grinding your mouth on his cock in a way that made him see stars.

you wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping it on what wasn't in your mouth. through watery eyes, scaramouche could tell you were fighting the urge to look away shyly. but never once did your pretty eyes stray from him.

they were trained on his every twitch, and reaction as moans started to bubble in his throat. you had a point to prove. experience sometimes meant jack shit.

you muffled a moan on his cock as his hand tightened in your hair. he held your mouth down on his cock, pushing into your throat. your pliable throat felt divine convulsing around his cock as you gagged.

he couldn't even jump on the fact you seemed to enjoy being handled roughly, latching onto it and devouring you with the fact. your mouth just felt too fucking good. "f-fuck, i think i am cumming," he groaned, his thighs quaking as you recovered your breathing and started sucking again.

you made it this far, surprising yourself in the process. you felt his fingers loosen on your hair after a few moments of bobbing your mouth on his cock, thrusting somewhat carelessly. the glare he shot you as you suddenly took your mouth off his cock sent a shiver up your spine.

"w-what do you think you are doing, slut?" scaramouche growled as you got to your feet and wiped your mouth.

"proving it to you," you quickly said, putting your hands on his shoulders. you knew if you even showed a moment of weakness, scaramouche would grab it by the throat and squeeze, and all your plans would go up in smoke.

you shook a little bit as you straddled his lap. sucking him off for the first time left your pussy dripping and almost embarrassingly wet. the throbbing in your clit spurred you on as you settled his cock between your folds.

you sighed shakily as you glided your pussy on his hard cock. groaning, his hand went to your hip, the other grasping his cock and positioning it at your entrance. "bounce like your life depends on it, slut," he moaned, lowering you down onto his cock a little more carelessly than he meant to.

he needed to feel your pussy stretching around his cock, the ache from the not getting to cum sent him reeling. he shivered as your fingernails dug into his shoulders, your walls fluttering to clench around his cock hearing his degradation.

he would've degraded you more, but your cunt felt too tight and warm for him to find words. your back arched, your body tensing in pain the sudden from quick intrusion of his cock. sighing shakily, his fingers found your clit.

a moan tore from your throat, your clit pulsing under the pads of his fingers. jolts of pleasure ebbed the pain away so fast it left you dizzy. he bottomed out as you rolled your hips down. "it's all..about.. sensation, remember?" he moaned encouragingly to soothe you.

don't think for one second that just because you are literally fucking humbling him, that he wasn't going take care of you. (real man behavior in only the best of ways, in your opinion.)

his thumbs grazed over your hips as you started bouncing. he rocked his hips up to nudge his cock into your sweet spot, letting you set your own pace. his body was turning to jelly fast, your walls squeezing his cock so tight that he thought he was going to cum right then.

he may have been falling apart, but you were falling apart faster. your head spin as tightness coiled in your core. the lewd sounds of his cock squelching and out of your pussy, your thighs smacking against his as you fucked yourself down onto his cock mingled with his husky moans.

"fuck..good girl.. fucking hell keep going," scaramouche hissed, guiding your pace on his cock. you gasped in pleasure, your whole body shaking as his cockhead assaulted your sweet spot. the sensation bubbled over any other pain, swallowing you as you chased your high.

he laughed shakily hearing how shameless your moans sound. "i was right to want to keep you," he moaned, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as his cock pulsed strong between your walls, "a perfect, fuckable pet," he was babbling now, lost in the sensation of your cunt swallowing his cock.

you tightened your thigh muscles for extra friction as you bounced. you couldn't barely think, but you were proving your point. his cheeks were flushed, whimpers bubbling in his throat as one arm snaked up to the small of your back.

he hastily buried his face in your neck to muffle his moans tinged with soft whimpers. the knot of your orgasm broke apart, overwhelmed by the pleasure of hearing him refer to you as his pet. "scaramouche!" you cried out, barely able to hold yourself up as you creamed hard on his cock.

he lifted his head from your neck, scooping one of your nipples into his mouth to suck on, nursing you through your orgasm. there was still more than enough for him to break apart your innocence like he fantasized about.

but for now, he was going to enjoy cumming inside of your pretty cunt.

an innocent nerd like you is always breakable.

[koolaidoverwriting]

GENERAL DATING HEADCANONS

CHARACTERS: Eyeless Jack, Jeff the Killer, Gender Neutral Reader

Request. I wasn't sure if you meant Jack x Jeff. I stuck to separate SFW and NSFW headcanons. But you can send another ask to clarify! :)

CW: Explicit Sexual Content, But Also Romantic Fluffy Stuff, Blood, Self-Harm, Cannibalism, Biting, Not Graphic

NSFW UNDER CUT! MINORS DNI!

EYELESS JACK

SFW:

Jack doesn't feel as much empathy or sympathy as other people. It definitely takes a long time for him to warm up to you, let alone get comfortable enough to date you.

Jack is an outlier in the mansion. He likes being alone, doing his own thing. Plus, a lot of people don't like his bluntness and sarcasm.

His tar spills faster when he's upset, but it's pretty much gone when he's happy. That's why he hardly cries tar around you.

He has a hard time showing affection through his words, but you know he loves you. Sometimes, he just pops up and holds your hand, or wraps his arms around you.

When you're hurt, he tends to your wounds, cooks you warm meals, and stays by your side. It's a mutual silence where you're just enjoying each others' presence.

Jack is a bookworm. You spot the books he reads and you check them out. Jack is over the moon when you randomly reference his favourite book. "Did you really read that for me?"

Surprisingly, Jack talks a lot. He rants about his interests in gardening and science.

Speaking of gardening, he'll most definitely grow your favourite flowers for you. He'd give you handmade bouquets and flower crowns, as well as perfumes and scented candles.

Jack isn't against light–hearted teasing. He says flirty things just to catch you off guard since you aren't used to it. Most of these "flirty things" are phrases he heard from TV shows.

He does try to get you to try kidneys. If you refuse it because it's raw, he'll cook it for you. If you refuse it because it's gross, he'll shrug a shoulder and eat it himself.

NSFW:

Jack is gentle with you. He knows how much smaller you are in comparison, so he makes sure he doesn't bruise you.

If you allow it, he'll bite you enough to draw blood, but nothing more.

His ears are sensitive! Licking or biting them gets him all worked up.

Jack has three tongues that overlap in his mouth, meaning he's a fucking demon with oral sex. His tongues squirm inside of you, hitting all the right spots. He could eat you out for hours before substituting his tongues for his cock.

When he sees you're close, he only fucks you harder.

Jack's cock doesn't fit inside you all the way. Your senses leave you, and you're a drooling, blubbering mess as he rams into your entrance.

After you're done, he'll clean up any blood that spilled and kiss your bite marks. While cuddling, he asks you what you want to eat. He'll cook anything for you.

JEFF THE KILLER

SFW:

Jeff lives in the mansion and has been living there since he was 17. Before that, he lived with a blind old woman who thought he was her grandson.

Dating him means you're going to have to get used to his angry outbursts until he learns how to control them better. He tends to lash out and then apologise later. You're sure with enough patience, things might get better. Especially because you know he's trying his best.

He loves emo music. In fact, he collects merchandise from the concerts he sneaks into. At night, you get to cuddle with Jeff while some emo song blasts on his speaker.

He also plays the electric guitar and would love to teach you how to play. And if you already know how to play, he'll get really excited about duetting with you.

Jeff has had self-esteem issues since the incident. He tries everything to make himself "beautiful", taking extensive care of his skin, hair and clothes.

He believes the scar makes him look better, maybe because it distracts from other parts of his face he's insecure about. He refreshes his cut every month.

You have to remind him that he's beautiful just the way he is. There are nights where you argue over it, but you try everything you can to help him overcome his insecurities — or at least accept his flaws.

He has a knife collection. He paints the handles of his knives all different colours. Some days, you could sit and talk with Jeff while you paint knife handles together.

"Can I test the sharpness on you?" "What?" "...I'm joking."

Jeff isn't a good cook. He never put time into learning how to cook. You, knowing he has to learn at some point, convince him you're on a "cooking date" whenever you want to teach him how to make a meal.

NSFW:

I already have a NSFW post for Jeff, but these are softer alternatives for when he's in a relationship.

Known fact: Jeff will use his knife during sex. He enjoys grazing it across your skin, smiling at your "cute" reactions.

The tip of the knife scratches your thighs. Your legs twitch as he looks into your eyes with a needy look.

Jeff likes seeing your desperation. He loves it when you grind against him, begging for his cock. He'll keep his hands off you, forcing you to grind helplessly. "Horny little bitch... Yeah, tell me how much you want me."

He fucks you at a rough, unstable rhythm as he tries to reach his peak. When he's in the zone, it's only his orgasm that matters to him.

Jeff mutters profanities under his breath with almost every thrust. It's a mixture of praise and degradation. "Fuck... D–Damn slut... You feel so fucking good..."

For aftercare, he doesn't do much. Just small things like giving you water and cuddling with you in bed. It's simple and it's nice.

!!! i'm very sorry if you meant "jack x jeff"! feel free to let me know in another ask, though!

[ghoulphile]

in the middle of the night | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 852 ➥ warning(s) | ���� smut; mildly dubious consent, man-handling, drabble, masturbation (m), free use (ig??), handjob, somnophilia ➥ summary | "Cooper watching you sleep. Its a quiet night. nothing but bugs passing by. Cooper keeps watching, and his mind wanders. cut to him "borrowing" your soft and smooth hand, pulling it from under your makeshift blanket and wrapping it on his dick, jacking himself with your hand bc he's bored/trying to pass the time/stay awake" ➥ notes | forgive me this was written in a sleep deprived haze im gonna go die in bed now masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️

"Hh-mm?"

A sleep soft murmur escapes, your mind a hazy flood of sensation as your senses struggle to adjust. Night stretches out before you, the sky a deep velvet - the fine stardust glitter of faraway celestial bodies peeking through wispy clouds. It’s midsummer in the desert; a balmy breeze shifting through the sands and tugging at the coyote hide wrapped tight around you.

Beside you, the low crackle and glow of a banked campfire warms your face, its shadows playing with your blurry eyes. Something feels… off. What, you’re not entirely sure as nothing seems to be out of place.

The threadbare padding of your sleeping mat shields you from the sand - albeit only slightly - and there’s a sharp twinge in your side from a piece of rubble lodging itself against your ribs. One of your feet’s gone numb and prickly from the awkward position you’ve curled up in.

Dogmeat’s snoozing a little ways away with her face tucked into her tail. 

Same as usual.

And the Ghoul’s…

What.

Strong leather wrapped fingers shackle around your limp wrist, grip firm and unyielding. A buzzing electricity dances along your palm, bottled lightning, as you’re made to grip something long and hard.

The heavy weight of flesh; rugged edges and whorls of texture biting into the softness of your skin. Slick friction as it glides through the loose circle of your fingers.

Is that his -- ohmygod, what the fuck.

Shock sizzles, melts like dripping candle wax into a bloom of warmth that punches the air from your lungs. Oozes down to curl between your thighs in a sticky rush as static warmth ripples from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes.

The Ghoul grunts out a low curse, a quiet hiss of breath escaping through his teeth.

Your thighs clench, the plush fat compressing as you shift.

Oh, that’s… Mm.

Pre-cum trickles down your knuckles as his cock throbs once, twice, his hips bucking forward to sheath himself to the hilt in your tender grip.

“Ah, fuck,” he mutters from somewhere above your head, his shoulders bowing in. “Always feels s’good.”

Always --

Your head snaps back, wide eyes darting up.

Immediately, you meet his gaze.

Dark, foreboding; the hooded eyes of a predator staring back at you from beneath a heavy brow like a hand to the nape of the neck. Corralling, claiming. His lips crack open and he smirks - a gash of teeth that threaten to snap.

“Well, hello there, darlin’ - was wonderin’ when you’d wake up.”

“W-What the hell!”

He snorts, the flash of his tongue taunting as he flicks it out across his lower lip

 “As if you don’t know. C’mon, now. I know you’re smarter than that.”

To punctuate his words, he inches forward in a grind, dragging your palm along the length of his cock nice and slow. A low groan punches itself out of his chest.

“Tch. Me doth think the lady protests too much. Acting like I can’t smell how wet you are.”

“I-I’m not…”

“Bullshit. You can’t lie ta me, darlin’. I know just how wet that pretty pussy of yours is getting. If you ask real nice like, I might be inclined ta show you what you’re missing.”

Your clit throbs, humiliation burning bright as you duck your head. Avert your eyes to the stray thread of your shirt fluttering in the breeze. It rankles how correct he is, how well he can read you with that vulture sharp gaze.

You wish you could prove him wrong if only for the principle of the matter.

As it is, there’s nothing you can do - especially when your fingers tighten up around his cock to hear him grunt and your cunt throbs in time with your heartbeat.

Slick wets the seat of your panties and clings to your inner thighs as everything in you cries out for some friction, some stimulation.

To get this man inside of you as quick as possible, stretch you wide and fuck you full.

He chuckles. “That’s more like it,” he says. “Now, are you gonna help me out or not? If so, grip a lil harder otherwise I ain’t gonna feel shit.”

So with a gulp, you do as he says: pop up onto your knees and tighten your fist.

Elongate the strokes so they work up the ragged shaft at a sedate pace, feel every pit and curve. Like you’ve got all the time in the world as you roll your wrist and use your thumb to gather the pre-cum from his weeping slit, smearing it around the thick crown of his cockhead.

All the while his head tips back, the long line of his throat catching your attention as he swallows.

“Phew, that’s just what the doctor ordered.” His eyes glitter cruelly when he looks down at you. “Should’a started doing this when you was awake a long time ago.”

How long he’s been using you like this, you don’t know.

And you’re not sure you care if the needy clench of your pussy is any indication.

“S’all right. Now you can make up for all that I’ve been missin’.”

[cogentranting]

The reason why the meet cute in The Artful Dodger is so good (other than just being fun) is that it encapsulates their entire dynamic.

First of all because it shows us how they're alike and how they're different. You've got the different sides of the tracks thing as just the baseline. They're bickering but that's actually more based in their similarities than their differences-- they both have a quick wit and sharp tongue. And they both respond to an emergency with the immediate impulse to jump in and help.

But even more important is the bigger picture of their approaches to treating the boy with the broken leg (Charlie)-- Belle wanting to use the ether to operate which is riskier but would save the boy's leg, and Jack wanting to amputate because it's a more sure way to save his life. It sets up the way that they push and balance each other throughout the series.

Belle is idealistic. She has very clear ideas of what should be done, both in a practical and moral sense. And she's usually right (saving Charlie's leg is better; the hospital should be cleaner; stealing with Fagin is wrong.) But she's operating from a place of privilege and self-righteousness that can't always see the realities of the people involved. Jack balances that, grounding her by forcing that ideal of compassion into a practice of compassion. He's less willing to take the risk on the surgery because he's the one holding Charlie's hand and whispering "stay with me Charlie-boy". He's the one who's been holding dying men's hands since he was a teenager. He's the one who sees (and has lived) the struggles of the people around him. And he's able to open Belle's eyes to that as the show goes on.

But, despite Jack's real lived-in compassion, the things he's seen and experienced have made him a bit jaded. He's burned out and stuck in a mindset of "that's just the way things are". The fool will run the hospital. The poor will be trampled on by the town leaders. Most of his patients will die. So he stays in his patterns and does what he can, eases the suffering that he's able to, and comforts the dying. And Belle galvanizes him. She gets him to push back, to take chances, to try to actually change things for the better, even if it's risky. She gets him to hope and aspire, and to strive more for what could be, instead of just bearing up under what is.

That's how they make each other better. And they do that so well that, and that mix of empathy and idealism is so electric that it immediately sparks dramatic changes for both them and everyone around them.

And the meet cute immediately puts this dynamic on display.

[billthedrake]

LITTLE BRO'S HOMECOMING

Joseph Murphy didn't even have to knock on the hotel door. He'd texted Kyle to get the room number and as he strode up to 1139 in the downtown Boston hotel, the door opened right up.

Kyle was dressed in his Marines cammies - either he hadn't had time to change since checking in or else he wanted to be in uniform for the older man. A big smile formed on the 21 year old's face. "Hey," he muttered as he stepped aside to let the beefy cop enter.

"Hey yeuself," Joe hissed in his thick New England accent as he stepped right up to the young Marine and placed his hands around the stud's waist, drawing him in.

Their kiss was hot. A tongue heavy, facing sucking kind of kiss. Officer Murphy didn't do finesse, and it turns out Kyle Smith was A-OK with that. It had been TOO long since they'd been together, or even seen each other. They'd had a conversation before Kyle's deployment about whether they were dating. The cop didn't feel comfortable with that, and Joe hadn't even reached out to the Marine over the last few months. It was only an instant reply that Kyle received when he said he was coming home that made him realize there was still a spark there.

More than a spark. Officer Murphy was pawing at the ridge of hard military cock in the camo pants. And Kyle was feeling up all the cop beef through the man's long-sleeve Pats T-shirt. THIS was the young man's type to a T. Some heft on his bones, thick muscle, a beer belly. It had been the body Kyle had been into since he first started jacking off. Joe reminded him of his middle school wrestling coach - and even, if he was honest, of his own father.

Officer Murphy was even a dyed-in-the-wool working class New Englander like Kyle's father, only more brash even.

Indeed, the booming voice came as he backed off. "How's my fuckin' parn stah doin?" the cop bellowed, fingers tracing the long ridge of Marine meat sticking up in the uniform.

"Holy fuck, I missed you, man," Kyle said with a big grin. Maybe that was too much to say, but he felt it.

"I bet ya did," Joe said as he crouched down, fingers already fumbling with the uniform. "I know how to take care of this bad boy."

The cop's fingers felt good as they undid the trousers. "Are we gonna wait?" Kyle asked. "I mean, we said..."

Already the cop's big mitt was on the young stud's boner, pulling it out and gently stroking it. "You got a couple in ya, Corporal," he growled. "Come on, Jesus, four months and ya gonna fuckin' blue ball me?"

Officer Murphy didn't give Kyle a chance to answer. The question was rhetorical anyway. Because already he was taking the thick, long tool into his mouth.

"Oh fuck... fuck yes," Kyle hissed as he felt the police officer's hot wet mouth go down on him. The cop sucked dick like he kissed. No finesse. But it was amazing, especially after no sex for the last four months.

The Marine didn't realize he was carrying around so much tension in his body, but as Joe blew him, he felt himself relax, his stance widening just a little and his hand placed gently on top of the man's medium-short hair. He'd experienced a Joe Murphy BJ in full Boston Police uniform. THAT had been incredible, but even now he loved looking down on the man's thick-set daddy bod, face getting redder as he bobbed up and down more quickly. Kyle was still in full uniform, for his part, and he suspected that was driving Joe wild.

"It's not gonna take me long," Kyle warned.

The cop spit out his cock. "Dont ya dare, buddy." He wiped the spit off his chin with the back of his hand and leaned back. Kyle loved that view of him, the way it showed off Officer Murphy's broad rounded shoulders and massive chest.

Kyle knew what the man meant. He actually didn't have a lot of experience with other men. He'd met Joe Murphy when he was still 18, still a senior in high school. But the sex was electric between them. Joe was such a deeply sexual man, and the cop's hunger for a younger top, a much younger top, fueled Kyle's own lust.

"On the bed, Officer," he hissed.

Joe broke into a huge grin. Standing up, he started undoing his jeans and kicking off his sneakers.

"Keep that fuckin' unifo'm on buddy," he growled.

Kyle nodded. "That's 'Corporal Smith' to you, Officer."

"All right, Corporal," Joe chuckled. "Don't hold back. Just go for it, OK?"

Kyle was getting lightheaded now, he was so horny. Especially seeing Murphy pull off that T and reveal that beefy daddy bod. His big brother had teased him once when he showed him a picture of his cop lover. "You a chaser, Kyle?" Brandon had laughed. Kyle stood his ground those. The beer belly on such a meaty frame did something for him. He liked having a lot of daddy to hold onto.

That lot of daddy was naked now and crawling onto one of the queen beds on all fours. Kyle got in place.

"Aw yeah, eat my hole, Corporal. Aw, fuck yeah... root around with that tongue buddy. Get up in daddy's ass. Oh, fucking nasty, buddy."

Kyle remembered the first time he rimmed Joe Murphy he was worried the man would get freaked out. But it was one of Kyle's favorite things to watch in porn, so he just went for it. As they say, history was made. He and Joe rarely had sex without some ass eating.

Still, both knew it wasn't going to be a long rim session. Their absence had been too long. Kyle leaned back up on his haunches and gave a light slap to the cop's surprisingly smooth rump. Leaning over, he pumped out a couple of squirts of lube, which he applied to his boner, and then to Joe's hole.

The cop wasn't exactly slutty, but he was wanton in taking taking cock. Spreading his legs and wiggling his ass some as Kyle fingered him. Then, as Joe felt that thick piece of Marine cock bore in, he hissed and did his best to relax.

"Easy, buddy... easy... I'm fuckin' tight... ya gotta open daddy back up for business OK?"

"Yeah," Kyle hissed. He didn't want to cum yet. He knew if he could get through the penetration he'd be good for a bit.

Joe's verbal streak quieted down as Kyle slowly penetrated the older man. Murphy had lied about his age when they first met on the app, but the cop was 50. Squarely middle aged. The young man sometimes wondered why he was wired for older men, men like Murphy. But now that he was boning Joe, he didn't feel the need to question, his heart and mind and cock knew this is what he wanted.

Finally his balls pressed against the man's ass.

"God, yes," the Marine hissed. THIS was what a homecoming should be.

"I can feel your uniform against me, Corporal," Joe said in a surprisingly quiet tone. "So very hot."

Kyle held the man's waist. The skin was hot to the touch. "I dreamed about doing this in the barracks," he hissed. "Even fantasized about banging the Master Sergeant."

That got a chuckle from Joe beneath him. "I bet ya did, buddy. Just as I've had the hots for the new rookie on the force. Fresh faced fucker."

Kyle pulled back and pushed back in. Not fast, not yet. But he could feel the cop's insides open up for him, some.

"Anyone else fucking you, Joe?" he asked, an edge to his voice.

The reply was quiet. "A couple, Kyle," the cop answered. "It gets lonely, you know."

"Yeah," Kyle said, sadly. He wished he was the only one. But they'd never had that conversation. This was probably not the time to have it. "Man, I wish we didn't live so far apart."

The next thrust was hard, real hard. It knocked the wind out of Joe a little, and if Kyle hadn't fucked the cop like this before he would have been concerned.

"Give me a sec," Joe finally hissed.

Kyle slowed his roll and watched as the man reached over for his own squirt of lube.

The Marine didn't need to be told to resume fucking. That's how it was between him and Joe. Perfect synchronization of needs. The minute he saw the man reach down to jerk his cock, Kyle started fucking hard. Jack hammer thrusts in and out of the man's now relaxed hole.

"That's it, stud... horse hung Marine gonna fuck my cop ass..."

"Fuckin' take it, Officer," he hissed. Getting into it.

With other men Kyle had fucked it wasn't like this. It was usually fucking for his own pleasure or for the bottom's. But he and Joe Murphy were on the same wavelength, the older man rapidly jerking while Kyle threw his strength into hard fucking the beefy daddy.

Just the sight of the man's bare back, strong and full, and the love handles and the way Joe's face turned redder when he was getting close to cumming. Kyle felt that light headed feeling again and knew the cum was already traveling up his piss tube, pumping out from his balls.

"Oh FUCK!" he whimpered.

"SHIT!" Joe grunted.

Their orgasm was simultaneous. Kyle's body clenched and held still as his dick continued to unload inside the man. It had actually taken a few times to talk Officer Murphy into barebacking, but now he couldn't imagine sex between the two any other way. This was just sex, and it was just the hormones talking, but Kyle was in love with the man.

He started to pull back, but he saw Joe's hand reach back, as if to stop him. "Don't, Kyle... stay in me for a while longer, OK?"

The Marine nodded and placed his hand softly on Joe's lower back, feeling up the clammy sweaty muscle. He wondered if his dick was going to go soft. It usually did after a cum like that, but being connected with the police officer meant it still felt rock hard.

***

Brandon Smith waited in the hotel bar, sipping his beer. He was always a little nervous waiting for Preston, but he was getting that pit-in-his-stomach now. Maybe this was a bad idea.

But it only took the sight of his sorta boyfriend in the mirror to brighten up. Preston Weldman cut the vision of a real executive, as tall as Brandon, and his figure looking fit in slacks and a sport coat. The gray temples were the icing on the cake, so to speak. Brandon felt an instant chub in his jeans.

"Hope you haven't been waiting long," the business exec said as he sidled up to the hunky 32-year-old. He placed a hand on Brandon's shoulder. Not obvious but the touch felt electric between the two men.

"No," Brandon shook his head. "Anyway, it's good people watching here," he said.

Preston smiled. "Scoping out the business daddies?" he whispered. He knew Brandon's type. It was how they'd met each other on an app when Brandon was back home visiting family. Leaning in more, he growled. "You're looking really good, Sergeant Smith."

Brandon's heart pounded. "SO good to see you, Press." That had been his nickname for the man. Then, his eyes sweeping up and down, something clicked. "You're not wearing your wedding ring?"

Preston shrugged. "You disappointed?" he joked. "The divorce isn't final but it feels like it, you know?"

Brandon nodded and with concern asked, "How you doing?"

"We'll talk about it later, OK? We have the whole weekend, right?"

Brandon smiled. Long distance was tough, and there was military life on top of that. But maybe that's what worked for this divorced hunk. He had his own busy career to deal with, and his kids, too. "Yeah. I have some stuff I wanna talk about too."

"Yeah?" Preston replied. "You wanna talk about it now, kiddo?"

Brandon shook his head. "I think the guys are up in the room waiting for us."

Preston's lust was visible on his face, even if he normally had that WASPy repressed thing going on. "Sure you're OK with this?"

Brandon laughed. "I was gonna ask you the same thing, Press." He stood up and set down some cash to pay for his beer. "It'll be way hot."

"You're bringing out my naughty side for sure." Preston was definitely in a good mood.

Brandon leaned in and whispered. "How do you think I feel? He's my brother." Then he pulled back and gave a wink to the man before grabbing his overnight bag. "Come on, let's go up."

Even on the elevator ride up, the two couldn't keep their eyes off each other. Preston still couldn't believe he'd scored a young man as hot as Brandon Smith. 6'3" ex-football jock, his body honed by years in the US Marine Corps. The 26-year-old was like a porn character come to life. The superstitious, or realist, part of Preston knew this affair was on borrowed time, that Brandon would move on. But he'd sure as hell enjoy the ride.

***

Joe had dozed off but the knock on the hotel room woke him up. He was naked in the damp, disheveled hotel bed. The kid had gone for seconds, all right, and the middle-aged cop felt well and truly fucked. Like, a sleepy, tired and satisfied level of truly fucked.

The man felt bad for telling Kyle about the hookups he'd had. But he didn't want to hold back from the young man. Besides, there had just been two men over the last few month. They hadn't meant a thing and certainly couldn't hold a candle to Kyle fuckin' Smith.

Another knock came. Louder.

"All right," Joe called out. "Coming!"

He jumped out of the bed and sauntered over to the door. He could hear the shower running, and realized Kyle was in there.

Brandon and Preston were surprised to see the door fling open to reveal the full nakedness of a thick-set 50-ish man they'd never met. Lightly furred front, soft dick dangling beneath.

"Come in, fellas," Joe said. "Kyle's in the shower." Unceremoniously he turned and let the men indoors.

It took a second for Joe to pick up on their reaction. "Why be shy, right?" he said in his thick accent. He flashed an impish smile. "I can cover up if it bothers you though."

"Guess you're right," Brandon said. He held out his hand. "I'm Brandon."

Joe took the hand in his own strong mitt and shook it. "Definitely see the family ressemblance."

"Joe," the cop said.

"Preston," the businessman said as he greeted the cop.

"Jesus what the fuck kind of name is Preston?" Joe quipped.

Brandon got angry. Protective and angry. "We can call this off," he said through gritted teeth.

"Call what off?" came Kyle's voice as he stepped out, towel wrapped around his waist.

Preston's eyes noticeably showed excitement. If he had to pick, he'd choose Brandon's body, but Kyle had a shorter, more compact build that was scrlpted with tight, rounded young muscle.

Kyle immediately picked up on the vibe. "Jesus, Joe. Did you shoot off your mouth again?"

The cop looked genuinely contrite. "Sorry fellas. Guess I'm shitty at first impressions. Preston," he said, turning to the other daddy in the group. "I'm sorry man. Really. That was a shitty thing to say."

"All right," he said in a clipped Yankee accent. "I guess we're not here on a date or anything," he joked.

Joe nodded. "Yeah, the Smith brothers are the stars of the weekend, right?"

Brandon looked at Kyle. "You guys already get started?" he asked his brother.

Kyle nodded. "Yeah, couldn't wait, sorry."

Brandon turned to look at his lover. "I wouldn't mind a little one-on-one time with Press first."

"Yeah, babe?" Preston asked. He wasn't sure how this scene would play out. But as much as he wanted to see Kyle in action, he was drawn to Brandon first and foremost.

The hunky marine pulled Preston closer to him, then guided his arms around the man's waist to draw him into a kiss. It was soft and sensual. Brandon Smith was SUCH an amazing kisser, and inspired Preston to give his best in return.

"We can give ya guys some space," Joe spoke up. Amused to see a version of what he and Kyle had just experienced.

"Yah," Brandon almost said. Only Press' hand gripped his arm.

"It's OK if they watch babe," he said. The older man had a playful look on his face. "I kind of want 'em to."

Brandon looked at Preston in amusement. This buttoned-down divorced dad had a way of surprising him. "OK, he said.

Kyle was still in his towel as he sat on the bed, feeling Joe settle in behind him. The cop's mitts felt good feeling up his ripped Marine muscles. If Kyle hadn't just fucked the man, twice, he'd be boning up fast.

"You OK with this, Kyle?" Brandon asked.

Kyle nodded. "Go for it, bro. It'll be hot to see you guys."

That was all the green light it took for Brandon and Preston. It was like it was just them, alone in the room, even as they were also aware of putting on a show. They slowly stripped each other and made out.

About the only thing to break the spell was the cop's outburst when Brandon removed Press's button-down shirt, revealing a DILF-y gym-toned body.

"Holy fucking shit, he's a frickin' magazine model."

The cop's loudmouth approach had rubbed him the wrong way, but now he enjoyed having Preston's amazing body recognized.

The lovers were soon naked and Brandon was reclining them down on the other bed. Kissing softly even as their bodies humped more urgently. They were matched in height, but Brandon had some more muscle on him, and Preston was feeling up every inch with his hands.

Soon the older man was parting his legs, letting Brandon's body find that spot between them. Their kissing grew more impassioned, until Brandon leaned up.

"Fuck you feel so good, Press," he sighed. "I love ya, man."

"Love you, too, Big B." This was the only thing that made Preston self conscious about having an audience. But he knew this was part of sex between him and Brandon. The emotional openness.

"I need to be inside you, Dad," Brandon hissed.

"Please," Preston said. "I need you, Son."

Joe felt Kyle's body tense in his arms. The cop was a pervy enough man that the dad-son play didn't phase him. But he sensed it hit differently for Kyle. This was his brother, talking about "Dad." Joe just held the 21-year-old tight against him and kissed the side of his neck.

"OK?" he whispered.

"Yeah," Kyle whispered back.

Then Joe felt Kyle's hand grip his forearm, pulling it down. Joe thought the kid was rejecting his embrace but instead Kyle guided Joe's hand lower, right to the towel, where there was a ridge of hard dick. The kid was turned on.

"Jesus, it's a like a Lifetime movie," Joe almost said, but restrained himself. Everything was so frickin sensuous between the other couple. Even the lubing of cocks and the fingering of Preston's hole. The man was glas Kyle was into more animalistic fucking. The kid always had been, even at 18.

At last the divorced exec lifted his toned legs, and Brandon gingerly positioned the ankles on his meaty shoulders. The two locked eyes, silently, lovingly.

And Brandon entered his daddy lover.

Preston winced at entry but after a second, his hands were on Brandon's muscle ass, coaxing him to push in further.

"Not gonna last long today, Dad," Brandon hissed. "You feel so fucking good."

"We got all weekend, Son," Press countered. Before Brandon he didn't enjoy bottoming. Hell, the times he fooled around with men he usually preferred getting head. But this Marine had a way of rocking his world, turning it upside down. Of making him want cock like this. "Fuck me. Fuck your father."

Brandon let out a low deep grunt and powered in. Slowly, sensually at first. God he was SO turned on. Being with Press, hearing that roleplay talk. But also know his little bro was watching. "I'm gonna go a little harder, sir," he hissed.

"Do it!" Press urged.

And like that came a serious of slow, rough thrusts.

"Yes!" the exec grunted. Only Brandon could make him love it like this, too. Hard, with a roughness to each inward push of that meaty cock. "Attaboy."

Brandon had a few trigger words and that was one of them. He knew orgasm was coming now. So he humped more excitedly, hard stokes working to get himself off with this perfect man's ass.

"Yeah, Dad," he hissed. "Gonna cum!"

He felt Press's hands caress his sides, encouraging him to give it up.

"UNNGH!" Brandon grunted and unloaded.

"Yes!" Press said excitedly. He loved watching his Big B cum, loved seeing that mix of youthful masculinity and almost childish need. Already he was stroking his dick to get his own nut.

Brandon took a second to come down from the high but when he did he started working his dick in and out of Press's warm hole. Fucking slowly but hard, the way Press liked it.

The older man wasn't a loud cummer, but Brandon knew how to read the signs. Sure enough. the middle-aged man's body clenched and white hot sperm flew out. Preston Weldman came a lot when he orgasmed.

Brandon pulled out and only then was self conscious that his brother and his brother's lover were looking on.

Kyle had a look that was clearly horny and maybe a little embarrassed. "Why don't we give you some space, Bro?" he said quietly.

The older brother rolled off Preston's body. "We freak you out, Kyle? I guess I should have warned you that we do the roleplay thing."

Joe spoke up. "Don't let the kid fool ya, he loved that shit."

"Jesus, Joe," Kyle objected. But the man was right.

Preston leaned up. He felt a strange fondness for Kyle, a dude he'd never met. "Kyle, it took me a while to get into it." He ran his hand up and down Brandon's strong back. "I don't know... your brother's a persuasive man."

"Eight inches is a lot of persuasion," Joe quipped. He'd just witness the other brother's endowment, and Brandon was as hung as Kyle, for sure.

"Joe, what the fuck?" Kyle pestered. But Brandon and Preston were smirking.

"Fuckin' Christ. What the fuck are we for? It's supposed to be a fun weekend, right?" He patted Kyle's chest affectionately and gave a soft, contrite kiss. "Come on, let's go get a pint and we can talk more at the pub." The cop pulled his meaty body back from his younger lovers and stepped off the bed. "Apparently we need to talk about 'ground rules' or some bullshit," he bellowed.

Brandon had to admit the policeman was growing on him.

[lichilly]

a short blurb I did since i wanted to practice my hand at writing unsettling scenes that aren’t inherently off-putting!

tw - implied mind control / possession

Sunny day Jack x (gender neutral) reader

The pillows beneath you groan with each twist of your heavy head, their overstuffed forms yielding to your weight. You feel like you're floating, suspended in a haze of drowsiness. Your eyes remain fixated on the cream-white paneling above, its surface marred by tiny cracks and specks of dust that dance in the faint light filtering through the curtains. As you trace each imperfection with mind-numbing focus, a dull ache begins to throb behind your eyes.

The sound of the door creaking open breaks the silence, but you can't bring yourself to look, the effort too great in your current state of lethargy. The wood flooring clicks with each heavy footstep, the sound echoing ominously in the quiet bedroom.

Has this room always carried an echo?

Your focus on the ceiling is interrupted as your weight shifts to the side, your arm pressing into a warm, plush mass as your body sinks deeper into the bed. Your head turns slowly, eyes settling on blue wisps of hair that frame a familiar face.

Jack...

A hazy smile tugs at your lips, your heart racing as you blink slowly up at him, the warmth of his body radiating against your skin.

"Hey there, Sunshine. You feeling better?" His voice is a soothing murmur, but beneath the warmth, there's a subtle edge of something darker, something you can't quite place.

Feeling better? Have you been ill?

Your eyebrows knit together weakly, lips falling into a concerned frown as you struggle to make sense of the situation. Jack's eyes flash with something unreadable, his chest rising quickly with a sharp inhale as he reaches for your forehead with a cool palm.

"Oh yes. Your fever has gone down quite a bit." His touch is gentle. There's an underlying tension in the air, a sense of urgency that makes your skin prickle with unease. Why, you didn’t know.

He sighs in relief, his hand recoiling back to his lap as a warm smile graces his lips.

"That's good." Your voice comes out hoarse, raw with fried vocal cords, the words feeling foreign on your tongue.

"It sure is," he says, taking your hand in his larger ones, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I'm glad you've come back to me."

A prick of a nerve makes your fingers twitch, a moment of clarity cutting through the fog of confusion. You swallow thickly, trying to understand exactly what brought you to where you are now, but the memories slip through your fingers like water.

Jack's thumb rubs over the back of your hand, his eyes still trained lovingly on you. His expression never falters.

"You think way too much, sunshine," he says teasingly, his teeth peeking through his smiling lips. His laughter echoes in your ears.

His interruption jumbles your thoughts, leaving you lost in confusion. What were you doing before this moment? Were you sleeping?

Jack turns your hand over, palm side up, his hands cradling yours with tenderness. His touch is electric, sending sparks dancing across your skin as his thumb presses into the center of your palm, tracing a path along your fingers with practiced ease.

"There we go, that's it," he coos, his voice a soft murmur in your ear. "Let go for me."

His words echo inside your head, reverberating against the walls of your skull as your body responds instinctively to his touch. Your eyes flutter closed, your body relaxing completely as you sink deeper and deeper into the bed underneath you.

"Just listen to my voice, Sunshine," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. "I'll take good care of you."

And with those words, you surrender to the darkness, your mind slipping further and further into the abyss.

[crimsonkenjii-writes]

Watching Giyuu Play With Himself

cw: gn!reader; Giyuu jacks himself off (and overstimulates) and you watch ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

a/n: this came straight from my [REDACTED]. Literally out of nowhere. Was watching YouTube and was like “I’d love to watch Giyuu pump his own cock” and then wrote it….. anyways I have normal horniness levels for this fictional man

NSFW • MDNI

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───

Giyuu holds back a strained breath, his face flaming with a deep blush. His hand gripping his sensitive cock, trying his best to replicate the way your walls would usually feel around him. Letting out your name and begs in stutters and slurs. His mind fogged with pleasure making nearly anything he said incoherent. Tears stinging his eyes as he continued to overwhelm himself, his overstimulated cock twitching in his own hand that continued to pump up and down his length. All the precum that had spilt from his tip acting as a lubricate for him, fist spreading it all around his shaft making it glisten in the dim lighting. The lewd, wet sounds from each little movement of his fingers mixing well with his whines and whimpers.

Your eyes stayed on your lover, watching intently as he pleased himself in front of you. Giyuu’s heavy lidded eyes staying locked on yours —which occasionally flickered between his sapphire eyes and his leaky cock. Watching his chest heave up and down and his thighs trembling as he kept them as wide as he could.

“P-please… Y/N…. L-let me cum. I’m hah I’m so close…” Giyuu begged, his fist not slowing down.

“Not yet, baby.” You smiled, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Just a little more, give me a little more.”

Giyuu let out a sigh that turned into a pathetic whimper. His head falling back as his eyes screwed shut to hold himself back from going over the edge. His arm nearly giving up and his rhythm stuttering. Sweat rolling down his face as his breathes quickened even faster, his other hand that held him propped up gripping onto the sheets below him. His thighs threatening to close as he felt his body clenching even more, taking every fiber in his being to hold back his climax. You placed your hands lightly on his knees, making him shudder. You finally lean your body in close to him. Your hands slowly grazing down his thighs and pushing them more open.

“Don’t close them, I want to see.” Your voice sounded sultry, your eyes staring back into his glossed over ones. Giyuu swallows a moan as he nods slightly. Your eyes drift back down to his cock, his hand still wound tightly around it and pumping up and down. You let out an exhale, enjoying the view and just thinking about how pretty your boyfriend looked; hair tousled and bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead, bright red blush spread across the entirety of his cheeks and ears, lips parted as he whined and begged, brows scrunched up in concentration and his cock twitching with anticipation, wanting so badly to finally release all of its pent up cum.

“So pretty, you look so good like this, Giyuu.” You speak out softly. Giyuu feels an electric spark run up his spine and cause his body to shake even more. You start to lean in closer, your hands gliding more down his thighs until you reached his hips. Fingertips softly grazing over his skin, up and down his sides. Smiling and humming out in delight before placing a kiss on his lips. Giyuu whined out, his lips eager on yours. Just so desperate for your touch, his lips moved frantically on yours, his tongue already seeking yours. His hand nearly stops until your reach down, your own hand ghosting over his as you broke the kiss to whisper to him to not stop. Giyuu’s hand continues again as your lips move on to his jawline. Kissing all the way down to his neck where you started to suck and bite.

“I-I can’t hold back anymore, I’m… I’m gonna cum…” Giyuu whimpers, more moans spilling from his throat as he felt your wet tongue lick the marks and bruises your left on his neck. With your lips still placing delicate kisses on his skin, you encouraged him to release himself. To spill all of his cum all over his own hand and stomach. To make an absolute mess of himself, more than he already has.

Your hand softly wrapped over his own that he was using to rub himself, your thumb rubbing over his slit. His already sensitive tip feeling like it was set afire from your touch. Giyuu moaned out loudly as he emptied himself out on both of your hands — slightly embarrassed that such a simple touch from you sent him over edge. You watched in amazement as his seed shot thick ropes all across his abs, dribbling down the ripples as he continued to breath heavily. His whole body twitching as everything he held back overflowed out of him. Some of his cum seeping down your own fingers that your brought up to your mouth to lick off, not breaking eye contact with your boyfriend. Bringing the same hand back down to gently graze your fingertips up and down his length.

“P-please. So sensitive….” He begged and whimpered.

“Cum one more time for me? Please?”

[lolahauri]

: ̗̀➛ Nina Hopkins: Smut Alphabet 🔞

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Similar to Lj, she's clingy, so she'll just click the cum off of you and then trap you in a bear hug.

If you wanna bathe afterwards though, she'll reluctantly let you get up and go. But only if she can join you! :P

Which results in her going down on you in the shower.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

M: She loves your arms! She thinks it's so sexy when you flex your biceps, even if you aren't exactly buff. Bonus points if you have veiny arms or big hands.

F: Honestly, your tits and pussy. She's addicted to eating you out and having you ride her face. She even got a vibrating tongue ring just for you! She also loves to spoon you and play with your tits, probably while fingering you or rubbing your clit too.

Her favorite part of herself is her mouth, she knows it works wonder on you and she loves that.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Favorite place to cum is on your mouth, preferably while she's straddling your face.

She can squirt, but it doesn't happen too often.

M: Thinks it's really hot when you cum on her tits or face, but she'll let you cum anywhere on or in her.

F: Loves when you cum on his fingers, just so she can stick them in your mouth and make you taste yourself.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Similar to Toby's creepy habit: if you're a girl, she'd sneak into your room, find a pair of your panties, put them on and masturbate in them.

Soaks them in her cum and leaves them on her bed for you to find later.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Very experienced, when she's not in a relationship she likes to have fun and get around yk. Def not one to shy away from one-night stands, fwb, even orgy's.

Knows what she's doing, practically an expert.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

M: Doggy, she also prefers if you pull her hair and play with her clit at the same time. Close second is full nelson, if you're able to lift her like that.

F: Mutual masturbation! Esp if you're watching porn together and using vibrators. Close second would be one of you riding the others strap-on.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

She can be silly, but she doesn't go out of her way to make jokes

But if maybe something doesn't go as planned in the bedroom, she'll laugh it off and move on normally so you don't feel embarrassed.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Def shaves her hair into shapes like hearts and triangles.

Has dyed it before. Like if she shaves it into a heart, she'll dye it pink to match her hair streaks.

Probably dyes her armpit hair pink too. 💀

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

She isn't usually so intimate, but she can have her moments!

Like sleepy, morning sex. She'll roll over, being all needy from the wet dream she just had, and ask if you'll eat her out.

You do, and she cums in a matter of minutes, afterwards lazily telling you to lie back down so she can return the favor.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

In a relationship, not as much, she has you now! Though she still does ofc if you aren't in the mood.

Also still does if you wanna do some mutual masturbation, or if she wants to send you some nudes & vids.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Swinging, oral fixation, choking, overstimulation, knife play, blood play, bdsm, electricity play, breeding.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Surprisingly prefers the bedroom i think.

She likes going multiple rounds and using toys most of the time, it's hard to do that in more public areas.

But she'd never be opposed to a quickie in the car, woods, bathroom, etc...

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Nothing specific really, just happens when it happens.

But if you're a killer like her, seeing you covered in blood gets her FERAL. Like, she'll jump on you and take you right then and there. Wherever you happen to be.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Not much she'll say no to. She's down to try anything twice.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Equally prefers/expects both.

She's very skilled.

If she's giving you oral, i think she'd love it most when you take control of it.

Instead of letting her do her own thing and go at her own pace, she wants you to grab the back of her head and fuck her throat.

Or if you have a vagina, sit on her face and suffocate her with that sweet pussy. <3

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Usually fast and rough!

But like i said earlier, she'd for sure have her more sensual moments.

Like if you're both high or sleepy, or just feeling lovey & clingy. <3

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves them!

They're fun and they get the job done.

Would have a few a day if you're down, anywhere, anytime.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Definitely down for experimenting, that's what's so fun about sex!

Likes to try new things or switch stuff up to keep your sex life exciting.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

She lasts a normal amount of time, but does have a high stamina.

Can go multiple rounds and doesn't mind overstimulation.

Or edging, if you're into that!

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Has a trunk or display case of toys.

They're all either hot pink, zebra print, or leopard print.

Fuzzy pink handcuffs are a must.

Uses them on both you and herself.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Such a tease! She's a major brat.

She likes to tease you until you break down and fuck the brattiness out of her.

Not subtle about it either, she'll straight up walk around in just her lingerie and act like everything is normal.

Loves to play dumb about it too.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Very loud.

Lot's of loud moans, whines, or sobs.

Also some dirty talk.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Has a womb tat and a tramp stamp.

Also a clit piercing and nipple piercings!

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Has an "outie" vulva. 😋

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very high!

She'd love to have multiple quickies a day.

Or have one or two multi-round sessions.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Doesn't fall asleep, usually she doesn't even get tired afterwards unless you had really early morning sex.

Or had really rough sex with multiple rounds.

[quirkwizard]

What do you think Class 1-A's action figures would look like in universe?

Non-quirk related question haha. What do you think class 1A's barbie-ken taglines would be? Not sure how to frame the question but for example for Tokoyami it could be, "This Ken is gothic" or for Ochako it could be, "This Barbie is on cloud nine" (due to her quirk)

I mean, I'm not sure if there is much to say on that. I feel like any taglines for actions figures would just be pretty generic, but I can talk about action figures.

Sato: Comes with a series of small snacks that you can feed him to cause him to bulk up and you pop open the stomach to get them back.

Koda: Just a simple figurine of him with a bunch of small animal models that you can play with as well. Comes with a button to play animal sounds.

Mineta: Orbs on the head are removable and the toy comes with arms that catapult the orbs forward. Possibly with a pointless target pad that no kid will use.

Sero: His tape dispensers can be pulled out like a rip cord, letting the action figure pull itself to whatever you put the doll on. Filling them with regular tape did not work well with test audiences.

Aoyama: Armor is made of a super reflective material that shimmers and has a flashlight in the belt to replicate his beam. Also comes with a lot of costume variants and accessories at Aoyama's instance.

Hakagure: Like Aoyama, her toy is very reflective, almost like a giant prism that gives off colorful lights when put up to any light. A stocking issue made it a hard to find collector's item for a time.

Ojiro: The tail can be curled up and then released, causing the action figure to fling forward. This curling can be used to make it hang on stuff as well. His tail also comes with "kung fu action grip", because of course it does.

Denki: Comes with a bunch of flashing lights and sounds for his electrical attacks. Has a swithcable head for his regular face and his low power face, much to Denki's chagrin. Batteries are not included for some reason.

Jiro: Definitely has some music aspect for it's main gimmick, like being able to use her jacks to plug your MP3 player into it to play music on it or having recordings of her songs on it when you press a button on it.

Kirsihima: Either has a bunch of plates on it that you can put on him to harden him up or you push a button to pop them out of the toy. Had issues in production because of how dangerous the hair spike was for kids.

Mina: Has an action figure with a lot articulation. It's main feature is a goo that comes with it that kids are suppose to put in and fire out of the toy. They fill it up by removing head and pouring the goo in, much to Mina's horror.

Shoji: The main feature would obviously be his arms. They'd either work like super stretchy arms or have a much of attachments that a kid could connect and stack on top of each other to add on whatever organs they want.

Iida: This figure with a set up buttons that can kick the legs forward, able to demolish any stack of cups that you happen to set up. He happens to be bundled a lot with overly complex, Ingeium themed cars, much to Iida's confusion.

Tsuyu: Has a lot of suckers on the hands and feet so you can stick it to surfaces. The tongue can be shoot out as well to grab onto stuff, kind of like those sticky hand toys. Yes, it is water proof and a popular bath toy for young children.

Tokoyami: Probabley has a standard figure with Dark Shadow with larger versions of it being sold separately. The parts of Dark Shadow can be removed and put onto Tokoyami for his armored form. It has a glow in the dark feature, without a doubt.

Shoto: Comes with fire and ice attachment to simulate shooting it out of his hands and feet. The scar was on the wrong side of a better part of it's run and it's occasionally bundled with Endeavor toys to help increase Enji's poor sales.

Momo: Her costume had to be changed on the figurine in order to be sold in stores. She comes with a massive amount of accessories to have her wield, along with little facts and tidbits about them. Momo demanded that her toy had some educational merits.

Katsuki: Probably has some spring power launcher in his arms that you can use to fire out plastic darts. Definitely has something that screams out catchphrases like "Die!" and "I'll kill you!" that would have to be rewrite and recorded several times to get them published.

Uraraka: Has a button that makes her hands glow like she does when she uses her powers along with has wench systems like Sero for her grapple hooks. Probably has a weird spin off line based around it, like Uraravity's Space Adventures featuring the Alien Queen Pinky.

Izuku: The most popular and with the most variations, though the standard ones glows with a button press, has spring shoots for the boots, and an spring in the hand to fire plastic air blasts. Sometimes comes out with special versions that come with other Quirks he had.

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Badge Bunny Part III

Find everything in the Badge Bunny AU here.

Summary: The happiness and bliss you've had finally comes crashing down. You never thought being with Gator would have such dire consequences.

18+ Only! MDNI

Warnings: Reader is referred to as "Bunny" or "Bun". Minimal use of Y/N. Angst. Roy Tillman. Reader is assaulted, kidnapped and injured. Blood. Violence. Death (not explicit). Gun use. Soft smut. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it). Creampie. This is not a happy ending! (Sorry)

Word Count: 8.4K

You began to rouse, with a pounding in your head, feeling delirious as visions of what had transpired come vividly rushing back. Flashes of light move behind your eyelids making that pain almost unbearable. It feels like it's been cracked open with the searing pain emanating from the back of your skull.

On instinct, you try to lift your hand to press against that throbbing, but your hands are bound in front of you, matching zip ties at your ankles.

Lifting them feels like too much of a chore as you let out a small whine, twisting to test them. No way to run.

When you try to let your eyes fall open, you quickly realize they're shrouded. You hadn't gotten a good look at them at the house and now they've got you blindfolded.

Your mouth and throat are dry and sore, making it hard to swallow.

You lick your cracked, chapped lips, wincing when your tongue grazes over a tender cut there. That coppery tang sits on your tastebuds. Still fresh, bloodied and bruised.

You will yourself to stay quiet. Listening to the little sounds around you. A humming of electricity. A distant drip, drip, drip you can only assume is a faucet.

Your shoulder is aching from your place on the cold tile floor. They hadn't bothered making it comfortable for you. Who could blame them, the way you had fought back.

If it had just been the two of them, you'd be home right now, explaining it all to your local deputy who wouldn't bother calling it in, taking matters into his own hands.

You had your gun aimed and ready to fire. But there was a third you hadn't accounted for and then it went black.

It all happened so fast. Gator in that stupid Jack Skellington mask he'd bought at Halloween, only when you opened the door it wasn't him poised there to give you a jump scare.

They cocked their head when you'd said his name, the rest of your words dying on your lips with the realization. He'd always told you to be vigilant, keeping the door locked unless you trusted who was behind it.

You scrambled to close it quickly, but they rushed it, knocking you on your ass from the blow.

You clawed and kicked, giving whoever it was the fight of their life. You wouldn't go easily; it wasn't in your nature. Shattered glass and splintered wood as you crawled to where the spare gun was hidden.

It was too late, as the last intruder snuck up from behind.

Gator was driving home, exhausted after a long day of work barely keeping his eyes open. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed, seeking your warmth as he eased up behind you to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

It was the one thing he looked forward to everyday. Hearing your soft sighs of contentment that matched his own as he pulled you in close.

The trip seemed to be taking longer than usual in his state. He wearily pulled into the drive, with your car parked in the usual spot.

He looked toward the porch as he put the truck in park.

“What the fuck?” He whispered out loud to himself, mouth hung open in shock.

The front door was wide open. He felt like his heart dropped into his stomach. Alarms began to go off in his head.

He quickly moved to jump out, grabbing his gun from his holster running toward the house.

Taking the steps two at a time, he shouted your name while cautiously peeking around the corner. No forced entry, door frame intact. You'd had to have opened it.

Nothing could be heard but the TV low in the background.

Entering the living room made him sick. The place was trashed. Glass thrown about, audibly crunching beneath each step of his boots. The coffee table was in pieces, as if someone had been thrown onto it.

He ignored the pounding of his heart and tightness in his chest as he cleared the rest of the house, room by room.

Finally accepting you weren't here; he holstered his gun and made his way back to the living room.

The first thing he noted was the gun he kept hidden was laid out in the floor, next to what he only could assume were droplets of blood. A wine-colored smattering stark against the light carpeting.

His eye was drawn to something that caught the light, matted into the carpet. His fingers hesitantly pinched it between his fingers as he pulled it up. His blood ran cold, it was the necklace you always wore with his initial.

He held it in his palm, sticky crimson clung to the thin chain, smearing his skin the same. His head filled with all of the worst scenarios as his stomach began to churn.

Then he spotted it. Off to itself, thrown in the corner. A fucking Jack Skellington mask. The same one he had.

The only way you'd open that door is if you'd thought it was him. He knew this was his fault. All of it. He'd been a fool to think he could protect you or that the both of you could come away unscathed.

He looked down at the mask clutched in one hand and your necklace in the other, as the bile stirring within him threatened to rise. He ran back outside, emptying the contents of his stomach onto the frozen ground.

He didn't care how or who he'd have to hurt in the process, but he was going to find you.

Roy soon arrived with a few other deputies in tow.

Whistling low as he stepped through the threshold, hands on his hips, looking around at the damage. Gator didn't bother looking up from his current position at the small dining room table.

“Well, son. Looks like a home invasion. What'd else they take?”

“Nothing else that I can see. Just her.” He was slumped in the kitchen chair, eyes boring into that mask as if it'd give him all the answers he needed.

Andy gave Gator a pitying look, before he spoke up.

“If it helps, it looks like she fought like hell. And we both know she can throw a mean right hook. That blood may not even be hers. I can get it sent off and back in a couple days.”

“A couple days? We don't have that kind of time.” He shot up from his chair, grabbing Andy by the collar taking him by surprise.

“She's out there with the fuckers who took her. We don't have a couple of days.” He forces out through gritted teeth.

Anger flickered through him as he stared the other man down.

“Gator, man I'm sorry that shit takes time. You know we'll do everything in the meantime.”

“Son, that's enough.” Roy's booming voice commanded.

He let Andy go, taking a few steps back bracing himself on the counter.

“Look, I'll put an APB out. You sure you know her well enough that she, I don't know, didn't set this up to look like a break in? Maybe just ran off instead?”

He furrowed his brows, confusion and hurt written all over his face.

“She'd never do anything like that. She lo…” he shook his head. “You just don't know her like I do.”

“No, I don't. Just looking at every scenario before I put any manpower into this.”

“No dad, she's not like that.” He sighed.

“Okay, son.” A wordless nod to the others, and they were making their way back out of the house leaving Gator alone once more with the carnage.

-

As Roy and the others headed to their vehicles, he quickly called Andy over.

“Deputy, don't worry about getting those samples sent off.” He set him with a firm gaze. “They didn't make it for analysis. Got it?”

Andy was going to argue but it was Roy. The gaze he leveled him with sent a shiver through him. He knew better than to question him, so he just nodded instead.

Gator couldn't rest. Not until you were safe and back at home with him.

He drove around the city to clear his mind and to get away from the house. He had begun to clean up before leaving but it was still a mess.

He'd picked up most of the glass, worried some would still be embedded in the carpet and contemplated ripping it all out right then and there. That's when he thought a drive would be better.

It was nearly 1 am when he made it to the Lucky Lizard.

He wearily stepped through the door, quickly gaining the confused attention of Henry.

“Gator? Y/N with you?” He said, eyes darting past Gator but there was no sign of you.

He simply shook his head, taking a stool.

“Jack?” He offered the other man.

“No, I don't think I should. I just came by to… to tell you that she won't be in tomorrow.” He didn't look up to see Henry's face go from confused to filled with worry in an instant.

“What happened?” He narrowed his gaze. Henry liked Gator but everyone in this town knew what getting close to that family meant. For him to come by instead of getting a text or call from you directly he knew it was bad.

“She… someone took her.” His pained expression tore at Henry. He'd never seen the younger man like this, so openly vulnerable.

“What does that mean? Who took her?” Far too many questions floating around and Gator didn't have the time or patience to explain further.

“Listen,” he finally looked up, eyes glossy, shocking the other man just a bit. “I just need you to keep your eyes and ears open. Anything unusual, let me know. If anyone is stupid enough to open their mouth, it's usually when they've had too much to drink.”

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded, as Gator stood to leave. He wanted to say something comforting, but the words just wouldn't come as he watched him, heavy footfalls and head hung low as he ducked back out into the night.

The bitter cold nipped at his face as he slowly walked to his truck. He sniffed, the air stinging his nose and throat, as he tried to keep his emotions in check. He knew he'd be no use to you if he let his head get the better of him.

He pulled into the Midway, one more stop before heading back to the station. One he dreaded the most.

You and Maggie had gotten close while you stayed here. Still kept in touch.

He slowed to a stop in front of the small office, already catching the older lady’s attention as she sat the book she had been reading off to the side.

He let out a breath and made his way through the door as the little bell above his head announced his arrival.

Maggie raised a brow, “and what do I owe the pleasure of you darkening my doorway, Deputy? Can't be good this time o’night.”

He swallowed thickly as she further studied his disheveled appearance, unkempt hair and the crestfallen look on his face. Her heart sank.

She slowly shook her head, looking down at the desk.

“I told that girl you were nothing but trouble from the very start. Wouldn't listen to reason. Couldn't stay away from your ass.” Scoffing and crossing her arms. “She dead?”

The question caught him off guard. Hearing it out loud made his stomach lurch. Something his own mind couldn't even fathom. He wouldn't let himself think the worst right now.

“Someone took her.” He finally answered, not ready to meet her gaze but looked up anyway. Her eyes were glossy, mouth set in a thin line showing her disdain.

“Took her? What the hell did you drag her into? You and that no-good Sheriff.” She mumbled the last part, looking away from him.

“Look, I wanted you to hear it from me. I know you two are close.” She nodded, so he continued. “Have you seen anything or anyone unusual recently?”

“Honey, look around this place. Almost everyone that comes and goes is unusual, but you bet your ass I'll keep a watch out. You,” pointing her finger at his chest, “need to find that girl. She loves your ass, for whatever goddamn reason.”

He gave her a tight-lipped smile, and a quick nod before turning to leave.

-

The adrenaline wore off as he crashed. He fought off sleep for as long as he could. Not wanting to face what was back at the house or go to Roy's. He parked the truck at the station, opting to get some sleep there.

Every time he shut his eyes, he couldn't help the images of you that passed before him. His eyes burned, stinging from the tears he was holding back.

When sleep finally took hold he dreamt of you.

Smiles and bubbling laughter that taunted him.

When his hand reached for you, you were just out of his grasp. Fingertips grazing featherlight against your skin. Turning to him, smile fading as tears began to stream down your beautiful face.

“Gator, you let this happen. This is all your fault!” You cried. “You didn't find me. Look what they did to me.”

The white sundress you wore turned crimson, beginning at your abdomen as it ran the length of the fabric dripping onto the floor below. Droplets turning into puddles at your bare feet.

He looked back at your face, now ghostly white with dark sunken eyes.

“Why Gator? Why'd you let them do this to me?” Your hands were outstretched, the same crimson dripping from your fingertips as you lunged for him.

He jolted awake. Of course, his mind would conjure his worst nightmare when he wouldn't allow his conscious self to think like that.

“Fuck,” he hissed pressing his palms to his eyes.

“Goddamnit!” Yelling as he punched the steering wheel.

A few hours of sleep were all he could manage, and it was still before sunrise.

He pushed his hair back, lowering his ball cap ready to face the long day ahead.

Upon your initial waking, you flit in and out of consciousness. Your head still feels like someone was holding a jackhammer to it. Somehow, you'd managed to roll onto your back, but no comfort was found in the cold, unforgiving floor.

That incessant slow drip, drip, drip nearby was all you could focus on with no idea how much time has passed and hoping to God this isn't how you were going to die.

Your ears perked up when you heard faint voices.

Making out it was two men but not what they were saying. You decided to roll back on your side and pretend you were still out; hoping they'd leave you be.

A door opened, squeaky on its hinges as they entered. Your skin broke out with goosebumps as a flourish of cooler air hit you.

“Fuck, she's still out? Sure you didn't kill her?” One said.

“No, dumbass. She's still breathing. See.” You were sure they were watching your chest expand, trying to keep your breathing as steady as possible not to give yourself away.

“I mean, shouldn't we wake her up? Give her some water or something?”

“Water or something?” There was a small scuffling sound. “You want to play gracious host after she kicked you in the balls and nearly shot me after clawing my fucking face?”

“We aren't tryin' to kill her. S’all I'm saying.”

You heard the other scoff, footsteps walking away.

“Come on. We'll check back in a couple hours. I've got a few calls to make.” The other footsteps quickly followed leaving you alone once more.

You had a couple of hours to think of a plan. You knew Gator would be knocking down that door if he knew where you were. He'd stop at nothing to get to you, but you couldn't count on it right now.

You were bruised and battered but in no way giving up on yourself, a fighter through and through. You would get out of this alive.

Gator had spent the better part of the morning driving aimlessly around town.

Roy had told him to get his head out of his ass and go on patrol to get him out of his own hair.

They'd had a blowout at the station.

-

“Son, I can't send valuable resources out to look for that woman, not when I've got other shit to clean up right now.” Not even sparing a glance up at him while he said it.

“Dad, she's not just some woman. She's my woman. Mine.”

"She's not your wife though, huh? Not good enough that you'd marry her. She is nothing. Women like that are a dime a dozen. You'll grow out of whatever this is.”

He's sitting across from his father, trying his best to not come across the desk. Fists clenched tightly, resting in the chair arms. Knee bouncing with the words that just came from him.

His mind is currently fixated on the small, black velvet box hidden in the back of his sock drawer. It's a modest ring, but he saved up for it. Went out of his way to pick it out just for you.

Those words echoing in his mind “she's not your wife.”

“I love her.” It came out almost a whisper.

Roy looked up, “huh?”

“I said, I love her.” He spoke louder, meeting his father's amused face.

“Oh, love is it?” He let out a humorless chuckle. “Love is a child's fairytale. Grow up and get out. Get your ass back out on patrol. I don't want to see you near this station today.”

-

He was currently sat outside the Lucky Lizard. He wanted to be somewhere familiar, close to you, but he couldn't face what was back at home. An empty house full of reminders of his shortcomings. He'd failed you.

Another patrol truck pulled in beside him, slowly rolling the window down so he followed suit.

“Gator, how ya holding up?” Andy asked.

“How ya’ think? My girl is God knows where and my dad isn't lifting a goddamn finger to help.” He blurted out, frustration on full display.

“Look, I gotta tell you something man.” Andy looked at him pensively. “I like y/n. She's good for you. I couldn't live with myself if something… Your dad, I know what he's capable of, but he told me to get rid of those samples last night. I don't know what's going on, I don't want to know but I sent them off anyway.”

“What?” His brows creased, a million questions running through his mind.

“I’m sorry man. I'll help you find her, whatever you need. Just give me a call. I'll let you know just as soon as they come back. I… I put a rush order in. I know I'll probably get my ass chewed…”

“Andy, thank you.” He meant it. “Don't worry about Roy, okay? Just go back to work, I'll call if I need you.”

Andy nodded and pulled back onto the highway.

He slowly let out a shaky breath, putting his vape to his lips inhaling as deeply as possible letting the nicotine calm his nerves.

He'd had enough of the bullshit. He wasn't worried about Roy or anyone else standing in his way.

Seconds, minutes, hours ticked by.

You'd managed to pull the cloth from your eyes enough to see you were in a large utility closet. Harsh fluorescent lights above immediately sent a wave of stinging tears down your face.

You were freezing. Muscles aching. Wrists and ankles numb from the zip ties biting at your flesh. Angry, bloodied rings formed where they were bound too tightly.

You quickly looked around for anything to cut them, but nothing immediately standing out until you saw a shovel standing in the corner.

You began to scoot your ass, inch by inch, closing in on your destination. You reached out dragging the tie across the metal hoping it was sharp enough as you began grinding back and forth. It was working, slowly.

You stopped, hearing muffled voices again.

“Fuck.” You muttered, sitting back, then leaning on the wire shelf behind you. You couldn't pretend this time, facing them head on.

The door squeaked open. A pair of boots entered directly in your line of vision. You followed them as they rounded the corner, keeping your head down until they spoke.

“Well, the bitch is finally awake.” He sneered, as you finally looked up. He seemed to be about your age, maybe a little older. Short hair, military style cut. His face had three gashes across his cheek. This was the asshole that had the Jack mask that you managed to wrangle free.

“Great,” the other mumbled, following behind. “Her blindfold.”

He was shorter, softer looking. Kinder eyes when he looked at you.

“Doesn't fucking matter.” The first asshole snapped back. “You know the plan. Let's go call him since she's awake.”

He quickly jogged back out, “c’mon” he yelled when the other stayed behind for a moment giving you a pitying look.

24 hours since you'd officially been missing. 36 hours since he'd last seen you.

-

He'd gotten up like any normal workday. You'd preset the coffee the night before to make sure he'd have a fresh pot. It was the little things you'd do for him.

For some reason, you'd followed him into the kitchen. Bare feet padding across the linoleum, eyes half-lidded as you walked up behind him wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Morning handsome,” you mumbled, pressing your cheek into his back.

He finished pouring himself a cup, smiling to himself when you didn't let go.

“What's gotten into you? Hmm?” He removed your hands, so he could face you, pulling you into his chest instead. “You're usually a grumpy ass gremlin in the morning.”

“Missed you. It's cold in there.” Mumbling once more, burying your face further into his chest.

“I know Bun, I'll get the space heater fixed as soon as I can.” He kissed the top of your head, as you raised up, placing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I love you. Hurry home tonight.” Your last words to him before making your way back to bed.

-

He was staring at said coffee pot. It was full. Brewing a fresh pot for an empty house this morning. You must have set it before everything has gone down.

He wanted to rage and scream, almost grabbing the damn thing to toss it outside, instead he punched the wall. His fist easily going through the sheetrock. It hurt but not enough.

He was about to take aim at the cabinet door, but his phone began to ring as he quickly retrieved it from his pocket.

Henry.

-

Henry gave him the rundown of some sleazeball that was currently at the bar, running his mouth about how he and his brother had struck a goldmine when they were hired to shake some bitch up.

Henry took notice when he'd said, “she sure is a fuckin' mouthy little thing. Lot of fight in her too.”

He'd immediately phoned Gator, who wasted no time getting dressed out of his uniform into some simple jeans with a plain black tee, leather jacket thrown over it with his lucky green ball cap.

Gator called Andy on the way, filling him in. Andy was out the door before they hung up.

He'd broken every speed limit on the way. Parking in his usual spot in the back. He hoped to God no one would give him away as he headed inside.

He caught Henry's attention, who slightly nodded to the end of the bar where an older, gruff looking guy sat with a fresh beer and cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.

He pushed the cap lower over his face as he made his way over, leaving a stool between them.

He'd play it off, make himself that obnoxious prick that loves to talk to everyone.

He whistled, gaining Henry’s attention, inadvertently grabbing the assholes as well.

“Slow service tonight?” he asked, half grin plastered on his face looking at the guy up close.

The guy huffed a small laugh, “guess you could say that.”

“Ay, bartender, Jack over here and,” he looks over at the guy, “What ya’ drinkin bud?”

“Another Budlight.” He spoke up.

“Greg,” Gator introduces himself, reaching out to shake the guy's hand.

“Wallace, everyone calls me Walleye.” They shook hands and spoke a couple of pleasantries.

The conversation stayed light at first. Gator keeping his eye out for Andy. He arrived a few minutes later spotting them and sitting at the table directly behind the two men.

Walleye finally started talking about how he’s come into a little money and was out celebrating.

“Cool man, that’s cool. Planning a fun night? A little booze, a little ass?” He chuckled.

“Booze, definitely. Thought about trying to get some ass, but don’t really know anyone from around here. Well, there’s this one chick, but she’s a little tied up at the moment.” He let out a hearty laugh as if he and Gator shared an inside joke.

Gator laughed along, but his eyes never left the other man growing darker.

“She busy or somethin’?”

“Nah man, I really shouldn’t say.” He tipped his beer back, taking a long swig.

“Ah, c’mon man. What? You seemed hyped about it.”

He looked around, as if checking to see if anyone was listening.

“Can ya’ keep a secret?” Gator nodded. “My bro has this little bitch at his house right now that I’d tap but she’s off limits. Sweet little ass from what I could see.”

Walleye whistled, as if to convey how hot this chick is.

“Why she off limits?” Prodding a little further.

“Well, we’ve got her stashed there for a bit. Why I’m celebratin’. We got paid some big bucks. You wanna know the funniest shit? She’s got this dude's name tattooed high on her ass cheek. Gator. What the fuck kind of name is that?” He started laughing again, but this time Gator hadn’t found any amusement in his prior statement.

His facade faded as his smile dropped. It took every ounce of his will power not to take the beer bottle in front of him and smash this asshole's face in.

He'd seen your tattoo. No one else has ever or was meant to ever see that. He was seething. His vision blurred, seeing nothing but absolute rage.

“Well, Walleye, one could question what kind of fuckin’ name that is.” Gator stood from his stool now towering over the other man. “But then again, a stupid fuckin' name to match a stupid fuckin’ idiot.”

Walleye looked up, more dumbfounded than offended. Andy slowly walked up to stand on the other side of him, catching his attention when he gripped his shoulder. Both men now caging him in.

“What the fuck is this?” He tried to get up, Gator quickly pushing him back down.

“This is me telling you we're gonna go for a little walk and then you're gonna tell me where the fuck my girl is.” He spat, almost nose to nose with the man.

He watched the color drain from his face as the realization hit.

“Man, look, she's fine… really…” he started word vomiting, grasping at straws but it was too late.

“Shut the fuck up. Get up or I'm dragging your ass out of here.”

He gulped, slowly rising to his feet. Andy steadied his hold on him to escort him out as Gator moved to go ahead of them, tipping his hat toward Henry on the way.

-

They'd driven him to an old, abandoned homestead not far from Roy's ranch.

Fucker started begging for his life as soon as they got him in the truck.

Gator had leveled him with a gaze before telling him to shut up until they were ready to hear him talk. He sniffled most of the way there.

He would have talked without all the theatrics, but Gator was ready to make it hurt. The way they'd hurt you.

They tied him to a chair, as he started spilling his guts.

“We were paid to do it man. My brother, Jeff, knows who it is. Talked to them on the phone on the regular. Making sure everything was on track.”

“We'll get to that.” He slowly put his black leather glove on his outstretched hand. “First things first, did you put your filthy fucking hands on her?”

“Please man, I…” a punch to the jaw, knocking a few teeth loose in the process. That was all the confirmation Gator needed. He hadn't denied it.

“Fuck, man.” He whined, spitting blood out on the floor. “I'm sorry. I'll tell you where they are.”

“I know you will. Let's just go ahead and get that out of the way.”

He explained that you were at what he thought was an old saw mill out on route 65. He and Andy both knew the place.

Andy would go ahead and get some supplies and weapons. He was going to finish with this asshole and meet up with him.

After a few more blows to the head, he'd gathered the whole picture. He'd admitted he had knocked you unconscious after you'd almost killed his brother. Gator was boiling over at his confession. No number of apologies would save him at this point.

His head was hanging down to his chest, a mix of blood and drool dripping from his mouth onto his lap as Gator grabbed his hair to force him to look at him. His eyes already bruised and almost swollen shut at this point.

“I've got one more question for you. How'd you see her tattoo, huh? I swear to God if you did anything else to her.”

“No… no.” He huffed, trying to pull in a ragged breath almost gasping. “When we mo… moved her… her shorts had come down a little. S’all man. I swear.”

Walleye had fat tears rolling down his cheeks. He almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

He'd made it quick after that. More than the prick deserved in his opinion.

One shot rang out clear and loud in the blank, snowy scape outside. A moment later Gator emerged from the hovel ready to get his girl.

Once they're left you alone for the second time, you move quickly.

Getting yourself back over to the shovel, freeing your hands you let out a small sigh of relief but there was still work to do.

Your wrists ache. Deep, angry gashes in each one. You wince with each movement, but you've got no time to feel sorry for yourself now.

You reached up, feeling the back of your head, hiding away the contact. It was crusted with blood and dirt, with a deep wound.

Your ankles would prove to be a little more tricky so you started looking around the room again. Finally, spotting a trowel on the back of the shelf making quick work with it.

You stood slowly, muscles straining and screaming with each movement. There were no windows. No way to tell the time of day.

You braced yourself, leaning on the metal shelf.

They'd taken you while you were getting ready for bed. You were in nothing but sleep shorts and a thin tank top. Your feet were bare. If you have to run, it crosses your mind you might not make it far in the snow and unforgiving terrain.

Your feet slowly carried you over to the door, taking the handle, but it didn't budge. Of course they locked it. Idiots doing the one right thing you'd hoped they hadn't.

You pressed your ear to the cool metal, listening for any signs that might lay beyond.

Nothing.

Two choices. Try to break the lock, giving yourself away or lay in wait with that shovel in hand getting the jump on them once they come back in.

Your body was cold, yet you were sweating. Heart hammering so hard in your chest it flooded your ears with white noise.

You pressed your back to the door as you slowly slid into the floor. Pulling your knees into your chest, trying to take one breath at a time as your teeth chattered together. Now was not the time to have a meltdown.

You started to get up but heard a commotion that made you pause briefly. There was a loud bang and then yelling that seemed farther away.

You stood quickly then, a little lightheaded but reached for the shovel poised to smash in any head that barged through that door.

Nothing immediately came, but then the knob jiggled. You were on high alert.

Slowly, it turned, and the door opened.

You didn't make a sound, as a pair of black boots stomped into view as you started to swing, shutting your eyes in the process.

The shovel came into contact with the wall instead of a head, causing you to open your eyes.

“Fuck, Bunny. Nearly took my goddamn head off.” He huffed a small laugh, grinning like an idiot. Your idiot, coming to save the day.

“Gator?” You managed to squeak out, coming out as a choked sob. Dropping the shovel and throwing yourself into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you pulling you in even tighter.

Relief flooded your system as you cling to him. Hands fisted into the front of his shirt, grasping on to him as if your life depended on it. Right now, it did.

Burying your face further into him, breathing him in as a mangled sob racked your body.

“It's ok baby, I'm here. I'm here.” He held you. Hands roaming, touching the expanse of any exposed skin he could find checking for injuries while trying to comfort you.

He reached the back of your head, as you whined a little deeper when he grazed the gash hidden under the matted locks.

His heart was pounding beneath your trembling hands. He was ready to get you out of here. Get you home.

“Bunny, baby, breathe for me. Hey, let me see your face. Please.” He pleaded, as you slowly lifted your head.

Tears streaked down your face, clearing a path through the dirt and blood that was caked on your cheeks. His anger growing at the state you were in. The apple of your left cheek had a bloom of purple with a small cut at its center as well as a cut at your top lip that was angry and clotted.

He cradled your cheeks in his large palms, kissing your forehead delicately.

“It's okay, we're going to the hospital.” He stated, releasing you so he could shed his jacket and drape it over your shoulders.

You were enveloped in his warmth that immediately calmed your jangled nerves.

“Look at me,” you did so, trying to stay focused. “We've got to walk past some things that might be unsettling, focus on me. Don't worry about the other shit.”

You nodded, as he pulled you close, walking side by side out of the closet, arm slung around your waist to help guide you and letting you lean most of your weight on him. He took it slow, praising you along the way.

“That's it baby. You're doing good.”

It was hard to focus once the space opened up to a larger room. Your head snapped over when you heard muffled voices.

Andy had a tweedle dee and dum tied up in the corner, mouths covered as they were struggling against them.

“I told you two to shut the fuck up!” He raised his voice, bringing his fist against one of their jaws as you quickly looked away.

“Hey, baby, it's ok. Don't look at that, look at me.” He softly coaxed your attention as you continued.

Once you reached the door, you could see it was night out. The stars were lit brightly above you as you looked up.

The bite of the bitter cold licked at your legs but you welcomed it. He asked you to stay by the entrance so he could pull the truck around.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, pulling his jacket closed.

He insisted on picking you up bridal style just so your feet didn't have to touch the cold, snowy ground, helping you into the passenger seat. Then buckling you in, closing your door and quickly running to the driver's seat.

Leaning back into the seat the last of your energy started to drain, letting the events finally catch up with you as you closed your eyes.

“Bunny, baby, stay awake f’me.” He grabbed your hand, shaking it gently.

“Gator, please just take me home. I just want to go home.” Tears now flowing freely, gripping his hand.

“I've got to take you to the hospital. That cut on the back of your head needs stitches. It isn't somethin' I can take care if at home.” He tries to look at you reassuringly but you can see something else behind his eyes.

“Okay.” You say softly, as he finally laces his fingers between yours, pulling it up to place a small kiss to your hand.

-

There were lots of questions at the hospital. You didn't answer unless it was absolutely necessary letting Gator do all of the talking. The staff knew better than to question Sheriff Tillman’s son.

He was by your side the entire time they poked, prodded and finally bandaged you up.

He was worried about you. You could tell by the way he was hovering, silently watching but you were watching him too.

They released you soon after.

You felt numb on the way home. Gaze set firmly out the window, as he held your hand once more. Thumb rubbing soothingly, neither of you saying a word.

He parked the truck around back, when you gave him a puzzled look he returned it with a bit of a sheepish one.

“I didn't have time to pick up everything, so we'll just go in through the back. You won't have to see it.”

You just nodded, knowing it was left in a mess. It suddenly broke your heart realizing what he had to come home to.

He helped you out of the truck, the hospital giving you some socks for your bare feet as you padded across the walkway, snow melting at the contact.

He walked ahead of you opening the door, making sure to put himself in between you and the living room. Not daring to look past him, you didn't need another reminder. The house itself was enough.

You walked the hall as you had a hundred times before but it felt heavy.

“Gator,” you said once you made it to the bathroom door. “I need to shower. I'm dirty.”

Your voice was weak, the words coming out robotic even to you. The hospital cleaned your cuts but dirt and filth still clung to the rest of you.

“Yeah, yeah, anything. You want me to start the shower?” You nodded, as he grabbed your hand leading you to sit on the toilet seat lid while he got things ready.

“Will you shower with me?” You didn't look up.

“Of course baby.”

He began to strip, finally turning his attention back to you when you hadn't moved.

“Baby?” He slowly moved in front of you, moving his thumb under your eye wiping a small tear away. “Lift your arms f’me.”

He helped you remove your shirt, then pulled you to stand, discarding the rest of your clothes into the corner of the room as steam slowly filled the room.

He guided you into the shower and followed in behind.

You finally let yourself relax under the warm spray, closing your eyes and taking a few deep breaths.

Gator came in behind you letting his gaze trail your naked form. Your body was littered with bruises and abrasions of all shapes and sizes. It made him sick.

If he'd come home instead of staying late for Roy yet again. He berated himself.

You felt his eyes on you, so you slowly turned around, faintly smiling up at him.

“There she is. There's my girl.” He hummed his approval, as he pulled you into him, kissing your temple.

Water splashed you both, droplets in between your bodies. Your eyes downcast as you watched the stained water as it washed down the drain.

You were not inclined to do it, so helped you wash yourself clean. They'd wrapped your wounds enough he easily maneuvered around them. Taking care not to linger on any bruises or cuts along the way. He could be gentle when he wants to be. He'd do anything for you.

He tenderly washed the blood and grime from your matted locks until the suds finally ran clear, his pinky grazing the stitches only once. Apologizing profusely when you'd winced.

He placed kisses across your shoulder when he'd finished as you hummed out your quiet appreciation.

Neither of you bothered dressing, sliding under the covers, he took his normal spot curled in behind you; arm wound tightly around your waist. It felt a little tighter than usual, clutching you as if you might float away at any moment.

He nuzzled into your neck, breathing you in. You were here. You were safe. He'd do anything to keep you this way.

Your eyes were heavy, as you cling to his arm but you didn't want to fall asleep. Not yet.

“Gator,” you whispered into the dark.

“Yeah, baby?” He whispered back, breath fanning your cheek.

“I need you.”

“I'm right here,” he kissed your cheek. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“No, I just need you. All of you.” You didn't know what you needed but there was this overwhelming urge to crawl under his skin and bury yourself beneath his ribcage.

You rolled over, barely making out the edges of him in the dark but you didn't need any light, as you brought your fingers up to trace his jaw, covered in the most scruff he'd ever allowed to grow.

You slowly brought your pillowy lips to his, wind bitten and raw, not caring when you slowly melted further into him it grazed the cut on your lip, stinging as they continued to move across yours.

His hand moved slowly up from your hip, large palm splaying across your back as he pulled you closer still. Your palm lays across his chest, right over his heart, feeling it hammering beneath.

You licked at his bottom lip, as he parted them for you. Mingling your tongues in a slow dance.

Your nails dig into the tender flesh of his chest when he takes your breast in his warm, calloused hand, kneading softly.

You take a shuddering breath when his thumb grazes your already pebbled nipple, causing him to pull away laying his forehead to yours.

“I, I'm sorry, I thought.”

“Shhhh… no, no, I want this. Please. I need you.”

He simply nodded, stray hairs tickling you as he lowered his head to press a kiss to your jaw, slowly easing lower, as he pushed you onto your back for you to grant him further access.

You threw your head back as he moved to seat himself between your thighs, mouth never leaving your jaw, neck, collarbone. Any exposed skin he could press his lips to.

His growing arousal was evident, as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing you further into the mattress as he let himself lower his body to yours, caging you in.

He slipped a hand between you, fingers finding your clit, drawing soft circles. A breathy moan leaves you, but you grab his wrist stopping him.

“No, no, please.”

“Baby, I don't want to hurt you.” When he looks up to see your pleading, glossy eyes in the low light he sighs.

“Goddamnit, it's like you're trying to kill me here.” He huffs out.

He was a weak man when it came to you.

He grabbed the base of his cock, as you loosened the hold your legs had around him, letting him ease himself back slightly. He ran the tip through your folds, bumping your clit once, twice, three times before lining himself up at your entrance then pushing the fat, mushroom tip in slightly.

You reached for his shoulders, gripping them tightly, as he looked up through his lashes at you halting his movements once more.

“I'm fine.” You pleaded, closing your eyes, as he began to stretch you out.

“Fuck,” he hissed, as he pushed slowly, letting you get used to him, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you whimpered.

“We can stop,” he began.

“No, no.” You wrapped your legs tighter, as your arms wound around his neck, inadvertently drawing him deeper as you both moaned out.

He skimmed his mouth lightly over your skin, sucking at that soft spot under your jaw that always drew those pretty sounds from you. He slowly pushes in to the base, his hips snug against yours. You can't help the wanton moan that escapes.

He stays like that for a moment, before easing out slowly. The drag of his cock against your inner walls was already too much and not enough, feeling every ridge and vein on his exit.

He angled his hips upward pushing back in, hitting your sweet spot with ease, your hips canting trying to meet his own.

“Yeah, that it?” He cooed, as he continued to piston his hips back and forth, easing up to study your face.

You nodded, words ceased to exist, you didn't have the strength but it seemed he knew that.

“It's ok, I've got you sweet thing.” His words washed over you, seeping into your pores. He did have you.

He continued to grind, the thatch of wiry hair at the base of his cock working your clit with every drag. Fueling those embers within your core with each thrust, small flames licking up your belly and spine.

He was never a patient man, something that was never ingrained within him. He couldn't wait to watch you fall apart on his cock, getting you there quickly over and over again.

You needed this. Needed him to show a little restraint.

Your pussy began to flutter around him, giving him that sign that you were close.

“That's it Bunny. Just let go f’me.” He grabbed your hand, continuing to rock into you at that leisurely pace, threading his fingers in-between yours to work you through it.

“That's it baby, I'm close too.”

His sweet words, tender gesture and continued brushes to your frontal wall had you coming undone. Your cunt began to constrict, as he picked up his pace slightly so he could cum with you.

You released breathy moans, softly saying his name over and over as those flames became wildfires. All consuming. Bursting from your core.

He worked you through it, before quickly following you releasing his spend, fucking it further into you with each thrust. All the while, holding each other's hand with a bruising grip.

“Fuck, I love you.” He panted out, thoroughly spent, face burying back into the crook of your neck.

A tear rolled down you cheek, as you mumbled “I love you too.”

You stayed like this just holding each other, for a few blissful moments you could pretend everything was okay.

He finally slipped from you, rolling over pulling you with him as you laid your head in his chest. The steady rhythm of his heart lulling you to sleep.

Something in the back of your mind kept saying you would never feel safe again, even in the arms of the man you loved.

-

You woke up cold. Your mind immediately floods with flashes, reminders of what had happened. You shot up from the bed, reaching over to no one.

Panic taking over as you screamed his name. Stinging your throat with the sheer volume you let escape.

He rushed the room quickly, he'd only been in the kitchen when he heard you. Dropping his coffee mug on the floor as he ran to you.

He immediately enveloped you in a crushing hug, sitting with you on the edge of the bed.

“It's ok. You're safe. I'm here.” He repeats it like a mantra while your heart rate trickles to a more steady beat.

Safe. Hearing out loud seems like a joke now.

“You weren't,” you whispered, pulling away from him to get a better look. He was already dressed for work. Of course he was going in. Duty always called. Family, Roy above all else.

“What?” You toyed with his collar instead of looking at him.

“You weren't here.”

The waiver in your voice felt like a dagger straight through his chest, your tear filled eyes finally meeting his.

“It's always going to be like this. Isn't it? You're torn. Never fully here or there.”

“What does that mean? What’re you…” his brow pinched with confusion.

“You weren't here, Gator. Not when I needed you. You can't protect me. I'm not safe.” Tears spilled from your lash line, as your chin trembled.

It hurt. But it was the truth. As long as you were associated with him and all that came along with the Tillman name you weren't safe.

You'd both fought before, this was different. You were too calm; too rational with your steady demeanor.

He just nodded, bringing himself close enough to place a kiss on your forehead, resting his lips there letting himself have the moment as his hand caressed your jaw.

“You don't have to say it, ok.” He rose, taking his warmth with him as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

He stopped before walking out into the hall.

Glimpsing his profile, his own eyes glossy as he turned his head.

“I love you.” He spoke out before hastily taking his leave giving you no time to respond. No chance to tell him you love him too.

-

He told himself it was better this way.

You wouldn't be caught in the middle if something went wrong.

He made a single phone call once he made it to the truck.

“Yeah, it's Gator. I think it's time we finally had that chat.”

[formleadsfunction]

I think about the intro to "Give Way to Open Sky" every single day.

transcript:

[the sound of a car door, footsteps, noise like a letterbox being used. footsteps and the car door again. the sound of a phone number being dialed, the ringing, and a connection being established.] soundtrack: Give Way to Open Sky by Jack de Quidt It's me again, Hector. I promise I won't hang up this time. I promise. I had to... I had to put something in the mail, I'm sorry, but I had to, something paper, I do not trust the hands… but I trust the hands more than the air. The waves, radio and ocean and sign and wind and electromagnetic, they, they can't—they've been ripped away from us, they used to be ours, or at least we used to know how to ride them, but they're not free anymore, they ain’t loose, they're tight, they bit down on the line, like in Job 41, “Can you pull in Leviathan with a hook, or tie his tongue down with rope, or—” Nothing. It's nothing. It's—we were wrong about what Leviathan is. We thought it was aberrant, we thought it was a creature, or a clever devil, or a conspiracy. We knew it was aligned with the tall city, but we did not know how high Bluff's towers would reach. I'm going. I need to—I can feel it. It wants me to be another me, but I'm going. Don't come after me. Heard is already there, he—we made a covenant. I have to. I, I have to follow him. But I’m having thoughts. I drive between the hills and their shadows are doors to other mes I've already been, but not yet. Electrical wires give way to open sky, and, is there a difference… between me and I—the thread on the wall, I could follow it, I could open other people's eyes, there's more than one mystery. I could put this one— Shh. Shh. Wait, listen. Do you hear it? [brief, faint static] “Can you pet him like a bird? Or put him on a leash, for your maidens?” Bluff City is Leviathan, and I cannot keep silent about its limbs anymore, “its power and its graceful form, who can strip off its outer coat? Who can open its jaws, its rows of scales are its pride. One scale so near to another that no air can pass between them. Its snorts flash with light. Its eyes, like the rays of dawn, smoke billows from its nostrils, as from a boiling pot over burning reeds.” “Nothing on earth is its equal: a creature devoid of fear, it looks down on all the haughty. It is the king over all the proud.”

[omniuravity]

NSFW Alphabet: Vox

Warning: This obviously contains NSFW content, Minors DNI

Thanks to @pinkhimecat and @bloodypeachblog for the help!

Also tagging: @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered @je-suis-eternel-jennie

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Vox is pretty good with aftercare. He cares too much for him not to care about you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This man loves so much about himself, it's hard for him to pick just one.

He loves your hair. How smooth it is, the way it smells, the way it feels when he grabs it to get your attention.

His cum glows an eerie blue, he loves seeing it drip out of your abused pussy.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He doesn't mind being on the bottom. As long as he takes care of you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's not too experienced, but he does know what he's doing.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl, he loves it when you take control after a stressful day. Plus, he gets to see your face which is always a plus.

G = Goofy (are they more severe in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

He's pretty serious, he likes to stay in control during sex.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He doesn't grow hair, so he's clean down there.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

He's super intimate with you, he loves reminding you how much he loves you. He also loves being in control with you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Why do it himself when he can have you suck his dick under his desk?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Daddy kink, he loves being in control of you. Voyeurism, he does enjoy watching you when you don't know it and then coming to your aid. Cockwarming, he tried it once, now you are constantly sitting on his lap during meetings, warming his cock. He also likes to electrocute you, nothing too serious, but he likes making you squirm. Finally, voluntary hypnosis. Vox isn't a forceful man when it comes to you, so he'd make sure you're okay with him using his hypnosis on you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In his office for sure. He loves bending you over his desk and fucking you raw. He also loves you sucking him off under his desk during meetings.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Praise, this man lives to be praised by the public and especially you. He lives for those moments you tell him how smart and handsome he is.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Nothing that can seriously hurt you and gross stuff. He's not afraid to draw a bit of blood every once in a while, but he wants you to be safe.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves receiving oral sex from you. He thinks your mouth is just perfect to him. He's not greedy though, his tongue isn't just for show. He loves pleasing you too.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He's rough, but his pace depends on his mood. If he's feeling tired after a long day of work he'll take it easier on you, but if he's feeling stressed or angry, prepare your pussy for the fucking of your life.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He loves a good quickie. Vox is a busy man and doesn't always have time to always have a long intimate experience with you, so every once in a while he'll call you into his office for a nice quickie.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Oh, he loves taking risks with you. Especially, risking getting caught with you. He knows he can charm the pants off of any person who questions his relationship, so it's not like his reputation would be ruined if he was caught with you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Dude runs on coffee and electricity. He can go for hours. I'd say he'd go until you're unable to. Some days he runs low on energy, so he only goes about 6 rounds.

T = Toys (do they own toys or use them on a partner or themselves?)

He does own a few toys, all of them are modeled after his own dick thanks to Valentino. Most of these toys are gifts from Valentino.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves teasing you as he pounds away at your body. He loves teasing you about how much you love his cock, or how good you take it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He wants all of Hell to hear how good he is in bed. As for what sounds he'd make, probably some breathy grunts and moans. "Gah...ngh..fuck.."

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

His ero zone is the plug where he hooks into his TVs, on the back of his head.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's rocking a 6 inch cock, very nice girth. As for color, take a normal human cock, and invert the colors. Add more emphasis with the blue on the head. That's Vox's cock.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is pretty high. He dated Valentino, he has to be able to keep up. Plus, if you weren't so fucking cute all the time he wouldn't be horny all the time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

If the sex is good enough, he starts to doze off not long after he's done. Otherwise, he's ready for the next round relatively quick.

[cvlutos]

I really think we need another round of Riddle with a tongue piercing. Yes?

HSHWJWKQKQKWJEUWKQJWJWJWJWJ

My mind was going 100mph so this isn’t all in order or whatever. It might not make sense

♡ R.R. | TONGUE PIERCING | SUGGESTIVE 

Imagine Riddle just holding your face, knees digging into your mattress, pupils blown and eyes half lidded. It was supposed to be a short kiss, a brief hello, before you both began studying. Yet you were just so inviting. One kiss turned into two. Two into three. Three turned into pure desperation, unable to keep his hands away. His tongue piercing grazes along your tongue, occasionally clinking against your teeth, each time sending a shock of electricity down Riddle’s spine, a muffled whimper leaving his throat.

On most days he avoids it, keeping his tongue heavy in his mouth, seldomly licking your bottom lip, nipping at your flesh through heated kisses. Saliva connects your lips as you pull away for hair, Riddle face strawberry red, his chest heaving, lips agape, showing his shiny red tongue piercing. He mumbles under his breath, it’s not enough— his hands tugging at his collar, sliding his jack and vest from his arm, uncaring for how ungraceful his movements are. He needs to feel you. He needs to. His lips reconnecting with yours, hands moving to tug on your clothing, hips grinding against you. His hands are warm against your bare skin, thumbs dragging along your naval and upward, leaving behind a trail of tingles.

“I want—” he speaks between kisses. Pressing a short kiss to the corner of your lips, to your cheek, your jaw, teeth nipping at your neck. It’s so out of character, from his usual rigid movements, for him to move so freely, so unapologetically. Taking all he can without remorse. It’s exhilarating.

[fade to black]