#em writes fic

[simplyemm]

Why did my brain decide that we needed a slightly-AU one shot based on a single flashback in my current WIP?

No idea. But there's almost 3k words written of this slightly Illariook Pre-Veilguard AU and we aren't even at the party yet.

This thing is gonna be a monster.

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Hedghodg Snugglz

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

you’re borrowing your boyfriend!jason todd’s…

hoodie

it’s big, it’s warm, and it smells like your big warm boyfriend. of course you stole it. luckily jason runs hot..or that’s what he tells you at least. the man gets cold too, but he’d never tell you that. not when you look so cozy in his sweatshirt.

sweats

your favorite thing of his to match with his hoodie. his sweatpants are super warm, super soft, and super baggy. meant for ultimate comfort. jason loves it when you go full out sweatsuit in his clothes. like, loves it. you’re like his own personal teddy bear to hold on to while he falls asleep. who needs sweats when he has you to keep him warm..in his.

t shirt

sometimes, when the weather’s warmer, you’ll steal one of jason’s shirts to thrown on over a pair of panties. you’re oblivious to the fact that this combination makes jason go absolutely buck wild. somehow you’ve never made the connection. but more than once he’s found you sprawled across the couch, watching tv, and ended up going down on you. his head nestled between your thighs as you grip his raven locks. his hands are fisted into the loose fabric of his shirt that you’re wearing. he’s not satisfied until your legs are shaking, your moans intermingling with the wet, borderline pornographic, sounds that he’s creating with his mouth on your clit. he never lets you get him back either, even though you know he was grinding his crotch against the couch, chasing that sweet friction and release along with you. but he always just sits you atop his lap after, kissing your cheek as he brushes your hair out of your face. grips your thigh as he makes a comment about the show playing, your panties long forgotten on the floor.

underwear

you never get very far wearing a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers. for one, they’re pretty loose on you, so you have to roll the waistband a couple times, which just gives jason a prime view of your ass. they also just make it so easy for him to get his hand down the front, his strong fingers expertly finding your clit like he’s memorized a map of your body. which, in some ways, he has. it’s not long before you’ve come, once, twice, almost a third time, and he’s pulling his own boxers off to free his stiff cock. it points out, the tip leaking, and you’re opening your legs wider without even realizing it. he grabs your waist, sliding you closer to the edge of the bed, making sure you’re ready before he slides in, burying himself in you. he bottoms out, and you’re throwing your head back, a third orgasm threatening to crest as he starts up a rhythm. the muscles of his stomach ripple as he thrusts in and out. one of his hands is on your waist, the other slowly snaking its way back down to your clit. your toes curl at the feel of his calloused thumb rubbing circles on that sensitive bundle of nerves. he’s groaning, low in his throat, at the way you look on his cock. it never gets old for him, ever. the way your cheeks flush, how adorable your blown out pupils are when you look up at him. your wet lashes, your messy hair. your entrance clenches around his cock as you come a third time, your hands gripping the bed sheets. jason comes along with you, groaning loudly as he paints your insides with white ropes of cum. he pulls out, wetting a washcloth in the bathroom. the wet, warm fabric feels like heaven against your sensitive folds, your boyfriend wiping away the mixture of fluids between your legs. you feel pleasantly boneless, sinking into the pillows at the head of the bed. your boyfriend cleans himself up after, settling into bed next to you. jason wraps his strong arms around you, and it’s better than any clothes you might steal. but what you don’t know, is that he’d let you steal his clothes anytime.

[hhoonii]

₊˙♡﹗˚ ༘ EVERYDAY RELATIONSHIP THINGS WITH ENHYPEN (MAKNAE LINE)

pairing: maknae line!enhypen x fem!reader, genre: fluff, non-idol! au, warnings: kissing, a/n: hope you enjoy this pt. 2 ;), pt. 1 here

— sunoo

plants kisses all over your face because he loves every feature of yours. rests his head on your shoulder while watching movies. holds your hand wherever you go. secretly takes 0.5 pics of you. sings your favorite songs to help you fall asleep. makes sure your jacket’s zipped when it’s cold outside. sends cute motivational texts every day to support you. likes doing your hair and trying different styles on you. “you know you’re the only one for me, right?”

— jungwon

holds you close in crowded places. always notices when your shoes are untied and ties them for you. blushes when you compliment his shoulders. giggles in between kisses. likes when you poke his dimples. pinky promises he’ll protect you forever. admires you when you aren’t looking. listens to everything you say, no matter how trivial it is. puts your foreheads together and jokes he can read your mind. “with you i feel like i could do anything in the world.”

— ni-ki

starts pillow fights that always end with you two cuddling. randomly gives you piggy back rides for fun. winks at you when he sees you across the room. subtly flexes his arms when you’re around. doesn’t leave until he sees you walk safely into your house. gets all the hard-to-reach items for you at grocery stores. makes you laugh until your stomach hurts. likes comparing hand sizes, and then using it as an excuse to interlock hands. gives you goodnight kisses. “since when did my thoughts become filled with you?”

[bayofalgecirascranes]

Baffled by the way so many Billy-is-adopted-by-the-batfam aus seem to be fundamentally uninterested in the fact that in most canons Billy Batson isn't actually alone in the world. Like forget the magical talking tiger who doesn't exist in every canon and the various non-superhero adults in this kid's life, where's Freddy? The lack of Mary at least has a Watsonian excuse because of the amnesia and the fact that in some canons she isn't Billy's twin sister, but Freddy? No.

And sure there's a million and one excuses for Freddy to not be present at the moment. But if a fic author doesn’t even seem to know that Billy's got a best friend named Freddy?

then I have to doubt their ability to write Billy in a way that's recognizeable to me as Billy.

[crazylittlejester]

every note this gets is One cheese cube I will give to Twilight as a little treat for what I’ve done to him this whumptober

[compulsivebites]

Meat for a dog | butcher!Simon x f!reader

based off the comments from this post | pinterest board | word count: 5,097 (soz)

warnings: 18+ ONLY (MDNI), dubcon (god i wish i could write noncon), fingering, animal meat & blood mention, piv, simon not shutting the hell up

a/n: i took a gummy and edited this so now I hate it

The swap of his gun for a cleaver- a human body for an animal one- felt like a natural exchange for him. He liked it well enough. Showed more respect towards the animal meat he carved than the human ones. He was good at it.

His days were always the same— a smoke before his shift. Wrapping the stained white apron around his broad body as he chopped various meats for the display fridge in the front. The discards would go in a plastic bucket to be thrown out. The scavenger in him knew it could probably be useful for something- fuck if he knew for what though.

Usually he recognized most of the faces that came in, bulky arms resting against the display as he watched bodies pass by, waiting for someone to summon him when they were ready.

***

Ok. Just go in there and ask. The worst they could do is say no. The idle noise of your car engine stops as you take the key out and drop it into your bag. You hate this, and almost hate how much you love your dog enough to do this. For the past month, you did a deep dive into dog nutrition. Reading about raw food, what kinds of bones he could eat, the types of diets there were within raw feeding, the different components of a balanced bowl, and the different ingredients within each component. After weeks of research, you eased your way into it. Starting with tinned anchovies- simple enough and easy to find. Your dog loved it, well- he regularly ate goose poop and food on the street so you weren't sure if that mattered but you kept going, his excited spins as you would place his bowl down was encouragement enough. It was also easy enough to buy some extra chunks of meat for your boy when you went to the grocery store. Chicken feet, duck heads, turkey neck- a little harder, but you always found it. Some other things, though- liver, heart, kidneys- are a little more difficult to source and expensive. Everyone online said a local butcher was the answer- a lot of edible meat for cheap. That felt a little bit more difficult for you, feeling embarrassed to have to ask someone if they had any scraps of meat you could give your dog. You could already imagine a scary man behind the counter laughing at you, but this was the only butcher shop around so you had no choice. Choosing this as a form of exposure therapy, it was a task you had to see through— no matter how uncomfortable.

The bell above the door rings as she pushes the door open. Simon watches your eyes scan across the store- sees the slight relief when your gaze is able to familiarize yourself with his shop. You look like a nervous little thing. Giving a small smile when you pass the elderly woman, avoid eye contact with the loud man screaming on the phone, you're shoulders tense and your feet move quickly.

"Hiya mate," Simon takes his time looking away from you. Bored eyes looking at the balding man in front of him. Sees a flash of annoyance in the mans face at Simon's lack of enthusiasm to help him.

"What'll it be?" Simon doesn't move at all as the man lists off the meats and weights for each protein. He waits a beat after the man finishes listing everything and leisurelymoves to get everything for him, a small smirk as he turns his back towards the customer, hearing him let out an irritated puff. He hands the man his things without a word, putting the cash in the register, and returns to his spot. He holds dirty, crumpled black gloves in his hands as his eyes scan the store for you. Easy enough, as it's the end of the day- neither of you notices that it's only the two of you in the store now.

"Hi, I have a weird question to ask." Decades of war made his hearing horrible and he's feeling like a shit so he almost can't help his tone when he asks.

"A little louder, love" It pisses you off and you almost leave- but you can't. You watch the smirk form on his lips. You take a look at him, his towering body at ease in his shop. He's hot in an unconventional way. His dirty blonde buzz cut growing out, his dark brown eyes that sparkle with a hint of mischievousness, his face roughened from scars that didn't heal correctly, big crooked nose that looks like he didn’t bother to get set back into place. He scares you, in an 'out of your league' way. He radiates confidence, indifference— like he always gets what he wants.

He can see the anger flicker in your eyes, but as quick as it's there— it goes. A sore spot, and he can't help as his smirk turns into a smug grin as he watches you repeat yourself a little firmer- but your politeness doesn't hinder.

"I was wondering if you had any meat you were getting rid of, for my dog. I’ll pay for it" you add the last part in quickly, hoping that will make him ease up on you. He may be handsome, but you can tell he's enjoying your discomfort. You feel like an awkward teenager again; this answer puts you on edge, makes you shrink into yourself.

"Hm— never had anyone ask me that" his thick finger taps on the display as he makes an exaggerated thinking face. "Might have some in the back- let me just switch the sign and we can take a look." He gives the glass one last tap before he pushes his broad frame back and moves towards where you're standing. His heavy boots get louder as he passes you and goes to flip the 'Open' sign to 'Closed' and lock the door.

Your mouth falls slightly open. You checked the store hours a few times before you came and everyone online said it's best to go closer towards closing time but you weren't expecting him to close the store while helping you. You were a customer surely he should just leave it open? The thought felt a little selfish as soon as you had it, so you close your mouth.

He watches your throat move as you swallow, oh— he wants to play with you. Wants to trap your tail under his paw and watch you try to run away. See you squirm under him. Force pretty little noises out of you. He’s aware of how he comes across, relies on it. Expected to be a selfish lover, to take without care, and they’re right— he is. Normally he enjoys taking, gives just enough to keep the other person from complaining. Not a bad fuck but not one that needs to be repeated either. But with this situation, a perfect one where he can take his time and play with his food— doesn’t need to maul it. He wonders how much of a fight you’d put up, if any. He’ll find out soon enough.

He stands in front of you now and makes himself big, raising his tattooed arm onto the top of his head. Hand rubbing up and down his buzzed hair as he starts asking you questions he doesn't really care about- wanting to hear your trembling voice for a little longer. Like a cat playing with its food. He cuts you off mid-sentence feeling impatient, he leans down towards your ear and whispers for you to follow him.

"Let's check together." His voice feels like a boom compared to the whisper in your ear he gave a second ago. It catches you off guard and makes you jump a little. You clear your throat and take a final glance at the 'Open' sign that faces you.

"Oh, I don't want to intrude. I can wait here—"

"No, you have an odd little request. Let's figure out if I have an answer for you together." He holds the hefty stainless steel door open with his boot, thick arms crossed in front of his chest, his head following you as you enter. You hesitate for a second and force yourself to move past him and into the back room.

The smell of raw meat is the first thing you take in— it’s almost jarring how much stronger it is back here. Obviously, you think to yourself as you look at the skinned lamb bodies hanging from a hook. You wonder how he deals with it every day, but the scent follows him always, all blood smells the same no matter the species. The loud hum of the refrigerators fills your ears as you turn back to look at the butcher. The door makes a loud bang as it rushes to close and you flinch. Neither of you talk as he makes his way next to you, his massive frame hovering beside you— let’s you shrink in the silence for a few seconds before moving.

If he’s good at one thing, it’s perceiving people— had a career that depended on it. After entering the back with you, he decides to just stand there— see if you’ll leave, back out. But you don’t, instead he watches your neck bob as you swallow, pick at your nails, bite your bottom lip— you must really like that dog.

He walks towards two massive buckets sitting next to a metal table. He lifts one and lets the thick plastic container bang against the counter as he puts it down.

“This ones got some good bits, edible but wouldn’t make a profit if I put it up front.” Your eyes light up, it’s exactly what you’ve been looking for. He lifts a brow, amused by the ardent look on your face, before continuing. “It’s time for my smoke, so sort through this and pick out what you want.” He places a plastic storage container in front of you. So worn that the measurement lines are gone. “Whatever you want can go in here.” You nod without looking at him, hearing his heavy steps head towards the back exit to your right.

He waits for you to pick up a piece of meat from the bucket and whistles at you. Like an obedient dog, your head whips towards his direction the second you hear it.

“Look left.” Your head turns just as fast towards the area where you two walked in. Your eyes scan the off white walls, the steel door, the metal table. “See that small box, there? Gloves.”

“Oh, yeah, ok. Thank you.” You head towards the metal sink to wash your hands quickly. Since you started feeding your dog raw meat— you had gotten used to the cold, smooth textures. Not thinking twice about putting your hand in the bloody bucket.

“Dirty girl,” he chides. “Even I wear gloves.” You watch the end of the cigarette glow as he sucks the nicotine in. You don’t answer as you return to your table, opting to give a little shrug instead. You hear him snort as he turns his back to you to finish his smoke.

* * *

You don’t know how long it’s been, but your container is halfway full by the time he finishes his cigarette. Content in your task, sorting through the cold meat and fat chunks, you don’t notice him till you feel him pressed against your back. You go rigid. Hands frozen in place as you suddenly feel trapped.

“Good little worker, almost done filling your container.”

“I— yeah, thank you. For letting me do this, he’s gonna lo—” your words get stuck in your throat as his body twitches closer to you— like he couldn’t help it. It pushes you forward into the counter, your body causing everything on the table to lightly jerk once.

“Easy. Keep working, let me see how well you're doing.” His big hand wraps around your neck, not too tight, hanging there like a collar. Fingers lightly resting on your carotid artery as if he was feeling your pulse. He can, basks in the stuttering beats.

“Gotta tenderize the meat,” you hear him purr into your ear as his tattooed arm rubs against your hip, occasionally rubbing your stomach under your shirt. You wonder if you’ll find any bruises on your hip tomorrow.

You try to keep a steady hand as you rush to finish filling your bucket. No longer paying attention to whether the meat is good or not. You then feel him at the button of your jeans, on instinct, you jerk your hips back to get away from his hand but feel his unmovable body.

“Ah ah ah, pick that piece up again.” You pick the limp, red chunk of meat up from the bucket and let it dangle in front of the two of you. From your peripheral you see his head lower to rest his chin on your shoulder, the smell of meat, cigarette, and very faint cologne fills your nostrils. You can feel the prickle of his facial hair through your shirt. “That’s a nice cut, I reckon that one should go to the mutt, hm?” Your hand trembles slightly as you add it to the clear bucket with a weak noise of agreement. He squeezes your neck in silent approval before dragging it down. He gropes at your breasts, thumb circling your nipples, you bite your bottom lip to avoid letting out any noise.

You add a couple more pieces of meat, while both of his hands casually unbutton your jeans. He returns one hand to your chest to continue playing with your nipples through your shirt. His other hand pulls your underwear and jeans down at the same time. You feel the calloused skin of his finger scrape against the fat of your hip as he hooks it around the fabrics. You haven’t moved, your jeans pushed down to your knees, frozen until you hear his gruff voice.

“Spit.”

You slowly look down with wide eyes at his two thick fingers in front of your mouth. You swallow the excess saliva in your mouth without thinking. You both hear the quiet tu sound as you watch a small, pathetic drop of spit fall onto his fingers.

“That’s it? It’s like you want it to hurt, unless” He cuts himself off, the two fingers disappear to swipe your folds. Your face feels like it’s on fire when you feel his fingers easily glide across. He starts rubbing circles as he lets out a raspy laugh.

“Fuckin’ hell. How long have you been standing here dripping? Was it me or the meat hanging in the fridge?” You try to move your head to the side, to get away from him, but he moves his hand from your nipples to its previous spot on your neck. Thumb on the back of your skull, forcing you to keep your head straight. You feel his teeth on your ear as he nips at your lobe. “Dirty little puppy. Might need to line you up with my lamb carcasses and hose you down when we’re through, clean you off.”

“I— please, can I just go. I didn’t mean to.” You lose your words. Didn’t mean to what? Get this wet? You try to figure out a way to convince him to let you out, yet your body felt glued to the ground. His words are a bit coarse, but his touch hasn’t been so bad— a bit rough but nice nonetheless. Every touch he gives you feels like it slows your brain down. You begin to get lost in your thoughts, disappointment in yourself growing until the butcher interrupts them.

“Settle, love. What kinda man would I be if I let you leave here with that dripping cunt. And without food for your dog? I’m not cruel.” The period to his sentence is a quick slap to your pussy, you let out a suprised gasp. “I’ll take good care of you, just need you to take what I give you, yeah?” You can only let out a pathetic whine in response.

You weren’t expecting his hands to leave you so soon. Confused for a moment before you feel him lift your shirt and bra over your head, the plastic, blood covered gloves roll off along with it. His hands fall into their previous positions on your body.

“Now, how about a little quality check, see if this needy pussy is ready for me?” In any other situation you’d ask if he’s always this chatty— you feel like he hasn’t shut up since you both walked into the cold, metal kitchen. His hands have you too distracted to think anymore about it as he spreads your folds apart before sinking his big finger into you slowly, all in one go.

Like a trained dog you fall into line immediately, any form of objection, not that you’ve shown any really, gone from your body and mouth at his say so. Simon thought of all the moments he gave you to bite and bark at him, but you did neither. Like a dog who didn’t know its leash was taken off. Simons body let out another involuntary twitch into you as he thought about it, pushing his finger deeper into you. He decided that he was probably doing you a favor. A feral dog that finally got some guidance from a trainer, doesn’t really know what to do without a firm hand. He felt your warm walls pulse, like your body could read his mind and agreed with him. Simon couldn’t help but let out a deep moan. He uses his free hand to unzip his jeans, letting his hard cock bounce out, ignoring it as he places his hand on your chest, tweaking your pebbled nipples.

He knew he’d have to stretch you out a bit more before you could take him, barely able to push his finger into your soaked cunt. His thumb starts rubbing slow circles around your clitas his finger curls inside of you, working in tandem as he feels you squeeze around his finger. You can’t help the way your hips push into his hand, desperate to create more friction.

“Yeah, hump my hand needy girl.” You whine and push your hands flat against the table as you try to grind your hips against the palm of his large, calloused hand. He keeps his hand steady, making you figure out how to reach your peak on your own. Another whine slips out— more desperate this time, beginning to get frustrated that you can’t get the right rhythm.

“That’s alright, you need me to help you out?” You feel pathetic as you nod your head in response. The butcher pinchs an ass cheek before he puts his hand on your back and forces you forward till your front is laying on the table. You cringe as you feel the blood from the meat against the front of your body, you fold your arms under your forehead to avoid putting your face in it. His hand runs down thumb draws circles around your clit slowly while his long finger curls into you, feeling for your g-spot. He strokes it until he feels your cunt flutter around his finger, he can hear you panting as your body begins to shake. He bends down towards your head, as if you wouldn’t be able to hear his deep voice while he was standing.

"Don't cum yet- want you to tell me the word you use on your dog when you release him"

"What?" You want to tell him to shut up and let you cum, your pussy flutters impatiently around his finger as you try to focus.

"Like when you release him to do something. We had dogs when I was in the military, wouldn’t move until they gave a command. What’s his?" His breath tickles your neck with each word, talking casually like you’re not on the edge of an orgasm.

"Um, break." You're confused, not getting where he’s going with this. or caring.

"Alright then, Break. Cum for me like a good girl." You've never been so confused while having an orgasm, body twitching as he leaves his finger wedged inside of you. He hears you let out a shakey moan as you cum, your chest rising and falling quickly. He leans down to rest his heavy body on top of yours, his free hand wipes the light sheen of sweat from your forhead before haphazardly grabbing the top of your skull to turn your face to look at him over your shoulder and smiles at your disheveled state— can see your dialated pupils and the way your mouth hangs open as you pant. He lets go of your head and can’t help but bite on your bare shoulder until he hears your heavy breathing turn into a hiss, swiping his tongue across the crooked indents left over by his teeth, feeling you shudder beneath him.

“Want you to do a little trick for me now.” You have no time to ruminate on your orgasm or what he just said, suddenly feeling him bully a second finger to join the first one without warning, you let out a whimper as your eyebrows scrunch together. His other hand moves to your cheek, roughly pinching it as he talks.

“Breath through it, know you can take it. How else is that needy little pussy going to take my cock, hm?” You pull away from his hand and shake your head in displeasure, your wetness not enough to alleviate the painful stretch. He begins rubbing down your soft skin, stopping at the inside of your thigh and stroking it softly.

Simon doesn’t move the fingers inside of you. Takes time doing new tricks, so he decides to give you a second to adjust, the flutter of your warm cunt isn’t the worst thing his fingers have felt either. Like a trainer standing still while a dog thrashes around at the feeling of being on leash for the first time, a new sensation— he can be patient when it’s worth his while.

“That’s it— “ You don’t know how long your eyes have been squeezed shut or how long you’ve been chewing on your bottom lip, but you try to soften your face. You’ve never had anything thisbig inside of you before. You push down the thought of what he’s stretching you out for, opting for deep breaths instead. Then you feel him move his fingers, stretching them open and shut.

He curls them as he pushes them in and out, when he can tell that you’re close he pulls his fingers out. You hear him jerk himself a few times, the wet strokes sound obscene in the quiet room. Grateful that you can’t see how big he is.

He lets out a deep moan as you feel the head of his cock bully itself into your soaked cunt, his two fingers feel like they did nothing to prepare you for the size of him as you let out a quiet groan of discomfort.

“It hurts.” you whisper as you feel begin to thrust in and out of you. You don’t know how he hears you but he lets out a hum of acknowledgment and takes a hand off of your hip to play with your clit.

“I know, your cunt is barely letting me pull out.” He starts to pick up his pace now. The hum of the refrigerator now joined by the sloppy sounds of his thrusts into you. Eventually, your body adjusts to his size, you push your hips back to meet his thrusts.

“Plea- e- ease” You pause for a beat, realizing you don’t even know his name. “Sir?” You don’t know what else to call him, cringing as soon as you hear the formality leave your mouth.You don’t remember seeing any name tag on him when he was standing in front of you earlier and the politeness ingrained into you since you could speak wouldn’t allow for anything else to come out.

“Sir? Some set of manners on you. Or do you not know my name?” You shake your head that’s resting on the table, his thrusts unrelenting. You bite your lip to prevent a moan from slipping out before you talk.

“I don’t- know your na-” His thrusting doesn’t let up as he speaks at you, humor in his voice, “I’m inside of you, fucking you raw. You’re letting me— a strange man, fuck you. And you don’t even know his name? Oh, you are a filthy thing.” You feel embarrassed as you listen to his deep voicechastise you. A flicker of frustration fills you as you think about how he doesn’t know your name either. You let out an annoyed whine, both at him talking and his refusal to let you just cum again.

“Guess I don’t know yours either.” He emphasises the last word with a particularly hard thrust before pulling out of you all together, both of you moan, his desperate cock twitches at the loss of warmth.

He knows you were both close to cumming, but Simon doesn’t usually get to edge himself with his partners. Always opting for a quick fuck, but he couldn’t help himself this was such a unique situation— knows that you’d let him do anything right now so he can’t help but indulge by edging himself a little with your pussy.

You feel him pull you up by the shoulders, turning you around to face him. His brown eyes look down at the pink liquid covering your chest as an eyebrow quirks up, can’t help the smirk from forming before he grabs your chin so your eyes met his. He ignores the disgusted look on your face at his reaction to the blood on you.

“Forgot to tell me yours.” You tell him your name as you get distracted by his heavy boot moving. You look down and watch him step on the crotch of your joined underwear and jeans, pushing them down until they’re at your ankles, blocked by your shoes. You look back up at him to see what he does, his dark brown eyes are already on you. He lifts you up without a word, setting your warm body down on the cold table. You watch him as he kneels down to slip your shoes and socks off, tosses them somewhere to the side along with your jeans and underwear. Your breath begins to return to normal as you watch him. You notice that he didn’t bother to get undressed, his black jeans unbuttoned just enough to let let his cock out. You’re nakedness makes you feel like the lamb carcasses hanging from the hooks in the big refrigerator behind him. When Simon stands you can’t help but look down, swallowing the lump in your throat as you see his erect cock for the first time, it almost looks painful, your eyes follow the veins up to the tip covered in precum. You can’t look away as you watch his thumb spread it around before stroking his length one time before leaving it alone, turning his attention back to you.

Your hands go behind you to brace against the table as he firmly pushes your thighs open to their limit. He leans down slightly, fingers spread you open as you hear him spit on your cunt. He doesn’t bother to spread it, just forces himself in all at once. He watches your face as you struggle to adjust around him, enjoys the way your eyebrows scrunch together as he starts moving. His movements are obdurate, not giving you any reprieve from his harsh thrusts as he speeds up.

He feels the moment you adjust to his size. You both moan as you feel your pussy clench around him, feel the cum at his base being pushed out with each thrust. He uses a hand rub at your clit, alternating between rubbing it and lightly pinching it. Your body begins to quiver, you’re almost over the edge when you hear his voice.

“Break” You groan in embarassment as your body shakes, pussy clenching around his thick cock as you cum.

His hands find your thighs as he grips them harshly, thrusts losing rhythm as he chases his high now. You enjoy the grunts that leave his mouth as he gets closer. You feeli his cock still for a second before it twitches inside of you. He braces his arms against the edge of the table, surrounding your body as he pants above you.

You whimper when he begins to pull his soft cock out of you, feeling empty. He tilts his head down slightly as he looks at your opening. His finger opens your hole to give you both a better view. Your cunt twitchs at the attention, you both watch cum leak out of you. He chuckles before he moves back, tucks himself back in his jeans as he goes towards the sink. He pulls a few napkins and walks back to you, you’re surprised when he instead scoops some up to push back into you. He has a grin as you look at him with annoyance. He laughs as he hands you the napkins, he grabs the container of meat and places it on the other table, his back to you.

You swipe the rough napkin, flinching as you clean yourself off. Your skin makes a squeak as your bare skin rubs against the metal counter, you pushing yourself off. You put your clothes on as you watch his back, he’s quiet as you hear the rustling of plastic wrap.

He turns around, holding the container with one hand, he uses the other to grab your chin to make eye contact with him.

“I’ll see you here next week, yeah? He nods your head for you, "Yeah. I'll find you if you forget— I’m gonna want that container back." He pats your cheek before handing you the container.

You hold it against your body as you give him a small smile. He smirks at you as he herds you towards the back exit.

“Forgetting your manners, pet?” He lifts a brow at you, broad frame standing over you.

“Oh, thank you.” You offer him a small smile, brain trying to process what just happened.

“Good girl. Break” You hear his raspy chuckle as you walk away on shaky legs.

[kirishwima]

JJK guys when you gift them something handmade - Part 2

Toji:

Nanami:

Sukuna:

[sthilarions]

I have only the most scattered moments of concepts for this AU but

When Edwin meets Charles, there is the slightest hesitation before he says that he escaped from Hell. But it doesn’t read like a lie, exactly, and what could be worse than what he did say, anyway? So Charles just tells Edwin he’s chuffed that Edwin got out of Hell, that it sounds hard, and doesn’t mind about the pause or the funny look that Edwin gives him, either. Almost forgets about them, until the Night Nurse pulls the memory back decades later.

Edwin has always had a certain fondness for fire spells. Charles doesn’t have any sense of smell, of course, as a ghost, so he never knows that the scent when Edwin casts them isn’t the sharp ozone of other sorcerers but something more like fireworks.

Whenever they have a case with a demon, Edwin wears his disguise the entire time. Charles, when he notices, doesn’t say anything because he figures it’s to reduce the likelihood of being recognized and dragged back to Hell, which is true.

Ghosts do not sleep and very, very rarely lose consciousness fully. It has happened seven times, to Charles, curses and venomous bites and spirit-sucking hordes. Each time he woke up back in the office, lying on the sofa, Edwin sitting beneath him cradling his head, with no good explanation as to why the case was now solved or how the fight got ended, and Charles politely did not push.

Time number six was unusual in that he was never sure exactly what knocked him out, except that he thinks he might have been hallucinating, right before. Because the last thing he remembers is Edwin standing over him, eyes locked on their enemy, and light flickering over him like he was in the darkness surrounded by fire instead of in a car park on a sunny day. And Edwin tilting his head, and smiling in a way that looked like a venomous snake about to strike, and saying “Honey, you should see me in a crown.”

When Charles went to Hell, to rescue Edwin, he didn’t find him huddled in the Dollhouse, in the outskirts of Hell.

He found him in the frozen center, chained to the Throne.

[crsssie]

frog - jinshi x reader (Spoiler Warning for Chapter 63 of the manga)

"hng." Jinshi whimpers, face flushed as you freeze.

It's a frog. You fucking swear it's a frog. You didn't just accidentally grab and squeeze Jinshi, a fucking eunuch's, dick. You did not. You are hallucinating. That was the frog that jumped on you and knocked you off balance— nOT Jinshi's dick or whatever. He shouldn't even have one!

"Sorry." You sit up, legs still straddling Jinshi as you get off of his chest. "I saw a frog and fell."

Jinshi sits up with you, face flushed in embarrassment as you pray you can play stupid out of this one. It was hard enough that he literally witnessed you hurl a rock at the assassin with eerie precision, but you would rather die than have to die with Jinshi because you found out he wasn't a eunuch.

Every day your loyalty is tested when around this man.

"That makes this way easier." Jinshi sighs, grabbing you by the shoulder as you tense up to lean back from him. "I have a confession to make. I—"

"I think I killed the frog." You mumble, face pale. You're acting. You have to. You are not following Jinshi to the grave and cleaning up the aftermath of his ass getting someone pregnant.

"No, listen, that wasn't—"

"Oh my god, I'm not gonna make it to heaven." You mumble again, staring at your hand before wiping it on your chest. "Master Jinshi, I'm going to hell."

"No, that wasn't—"

"I'm going to hell because I crushed a frog..." You mumble.

Jinshi gets fed up with your acting, pushing you backward into the dirt as he cages you in, lifting your leg as he presses his clothed erection into you. You yelp, trying to crawl away, but he holds you in place, eyes staring through yours to your soul as you shake underneath him. Playing stupid didn't work this time.

"That was not a frog," and he rolls his hips against yours for emphasis, watching as you mentally restrain yourself from moaning. God, since when were you this lewd?! "Stop playing stupid, pretty one. You gave it a good squeeze too."

You freeze up as he lowers himself ever so slowly, and you blurt your thoughts out before you can think of what the best choice is at the moment.

"I am not having my first kiss on the dirt in a cave!" You cry, praying that it's enough. Seriously, you aren't following Jinshi to the grave. He may be hot, and women may throw themselves at him and men turn gay for him and nations go to war for him but you are not following him to the grave. Your loyalty does not lay that strong. You don't want to die just yet.

Jinshi leans in anyway, lips brushing yours as a bark sounds above you as you call back, and you sigh in relief when you hear Maomao's voice.

You're saved. Oh heavens, you're saved.

[spaceprincessem]

champagne kisses | 1.8k buddie fic | ao3

Buck swallows.

He needs to be brave. He needs to shut the fuck up. He needs to speak his truth. He needs Eddie to know.

“Eddie,” his voice is hoarse, “I—I need to tell you something.”

[or eddie comes home and buck stays]

read on ao3

tagging some mutuals <3 @eddiebabygirldiaz @dr-shortsighted-owl @leothil @eddiesprius @colonoscopys @gayhoediaz @spotsandsocks @slowlyfoggydestiny @wildlife4life @bi-buckrights @elvensorceress @thelikesofus @lonelychicago @thekristen999 @bigfootsmom @honestlydarkprincess @monsterrae1

[star4daisy]

map - 972 words - @rosekillermicrofic

tw: wounds, physical assault

Barty had always refused to see the doctor after his father was done with him. He'd learned the lesson to avoid them when he was twelve, trying to find someone to help him and his mom out of the house. No one ever lifted a finger to assist them.

That was until he passed out after one of their little sessions and Barty woke up being tended by lovely long fingers that held him with care.

Barty hadn't felt a gentle touch in years — ever since his mother died — so he couldn't be blamed for being unable to resist coming back, especially when he noticed that the doctor didn't ask questions that Barty couldn't give him the answer to.

Two years passed with comforting touches and sharp needles mending Barty's skin back together. With time, Evan Rosier mended more than just Barty's skin. Evan turned him human again. As human as Barty could ever become after years of neglect and abuse.

Evan was tending to the wounds on his back as Barty complained about the other soldiers' behaviour, he could barely feel the sting of the alcohol as his open back was getting disinfected.

He'd been through this enough times to know how the procedure went, Evan would caress his unmarred skin with one hand to comfort him and then press his needle inside Barty's open flesh, always trying to put him back together. Evan didn't always succeed. Sometimes Barty thought that he had been broken one too many times for it to work again.

If things had been any different between them Barty would've never allowed Evan to map the scars on his back with his lovely fingers. Barty had been ashamed of it for so long, of how ugly they looked. Sometimes he still flinched from the touch, his subconscious never expected the proximity to not be a danger.

No one had gotten close without taking a piece of him along with them, Evan had been the first to give. To fix.

Barty was in awe of him.

Once Evan was done and had wrapped the worst of it in gauze, he began the tradition of kissing every old scar on Barty's body. Evan started with the one on his shoulder, just a slight brush of his lips that was enough to make Barty shudder. The effect was bigger on his body than any sharp tool had been before.

Then Evan kissed his spine, Barty had to restrain the instinctive jerky movement so he wouldn't pull away from him.

He never wanted to pull away from Evan again.

The tradition had started the first time Barty pulled away from him when Evan touched one of his scars. "Why do you always do that?" His tone was curious.

"They're ugly, you're not," Barty said matter of factly. "No reason for you to have to see them," he shrugged uncomfortably.

Evan froze in the process of taking his gloves off. "Who said they were ugly?"

"I did."  

"Crouch," the name was said as a warning.

"You know who."

Evan studied him for a while and then he pulled Barty's chin up, forcing him to look into Evan's stony blue eyes. "Nothing about you will ever be as ugly as he is, inside and out."

Barty nodded jerkily, avoiding eye contact once again.

"I mean it, Crouch," Evan pulled him by the chin again. "They're a part of you, each one of them tells me a story about who you are. They're a map to your soul. How could that ever be ugly?"

Barty felt like his throat was swollen, which was weird because he was sure he hadn't been hurt there. "Don't call me that," was all he managed to say. "That's his name, not mine."

Evan nodded slowly, analysing Barty's features as if he needed to draw him from memory. "And how would you want me to call you?"

"Barty is fine."

"Barty," Evan said it like he was tasting the words in his mouth.

"Yes?" Barty answered, finally raising his head out of his own will and Evan rewarded him by kissing Barty for the first time.

Now, as Evan had grown used to tending to his wounds and Barty was more comfortable with his body and soul, he finally gathered the courage to admit to Evan the truth in his heart. "I hate him," he said. "I hate him more than I've ever hated anyone."

Barty knew it was wrong of him to say when they were in the middle of a war, that he should hate their enemies more than the man who was leading them to victory. But he couldn't keep it inside anymore, the words had been choking him for years and Evan — his only safe space — had allowed him to breathe after spilling them.

Evan didn't stop the task of mapping Barty's scars with his lips, when he spoke it was against the skin of Barty's neck, "Do you want me to kill him?" He offered, warm breath sending chills down Barty's spine.

Barty was ashamed of how long he'd thought about this before. "His death might condemn us all."

"Or it might free us." Evan was like the devil whispering behind his shoulder.

"It needs to look like an inevitability." Barty finally conceded, turning to look at Evan's cold eyes. "We couldn't just shoot him, we'd be dead in thirty seconds."

"Don't worry, darling." Evan kissed his jaw, moving his lips slowly until he reached Barty's mouth. "I've had a plan since the first time you entered this tent bleeding because of him."

When Barty went to sleep that night he could finally relax in their makeshift bed. Even if his father's death resulted in all of theirs, Barty found he could be at peace as long as he had Evan by his side.

[dekupalace]

hi isatheads. is this anything

[martinluvrr]

MISS 21 SOMETHING | EMILY ENGSTLER

⋅˚₊‧ based on miss 20 something

⋅˚₊‧ nav ||

☆

liked by haileyvanlith,bellahadid,sofiavergara and 307,567 others

y/n legal 😭 #21

comments

jujubballin happy birthday 🎉 🩷

haileyvanlith hb mom 🥹🥹🥹

⤷ y/n thank u older than me child 🥹

⤷ usera deaddddd

sofiavergara happy birthday my on screen granddaughter 🫶🏻💗

⤷ userb love that the whole modern family cast is in the comments

sza happy 21st ✨✨✨✨✨

userc can’t believe shes actually 21

⤷ userd i literally remember her being 12 like a week ago 😭😭😭

kamoreaarnold happy birthday girly pop 💘💘💘💗

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liked by y/n,washmystics, haileyvanlith and 15,234 others

em_engstler miss 21 something @y/n love u baby 🫶🏻

comments

aaliyahedwards_24 🌟🌟🌟

haileyvanlith parents ❣️

userf cutest couple out here fr

userg the 5 year age gap makes me uncomfy…

⤷ userh then block them like tf

⤷ useri nobody gaf if ur uncomfy about their business

y/n thank u em 🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

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[bamnamuu]

things bangchan would do as your boyfriend

w.count 250 | warnings mentions kissing | em’s note it’s been a weird couple days, and the only way to get through them is with boyfriend channie : D oh also not proof read !!!

boyf!Chan who teases you about stealing his hoodies, even though he leaves them out on purpose because he likes seeing you wearing his clothes.

boyf!Chan who always sends you messages and selfies every hour or so just so you don’t forget how much he loves you. (not that you could forget, he's on your mind 24/7 365)

boyf!Chan who learns to cook your favourite food, so that when you get home you do not have to worry about cooking.

boyf!Chan who has a polaroid of you two in the back of his phone so everywhere he goes he has you with him.

boyf!Chan who lets you listen to skz's new songs before the rest of the members because he wants your approval, he admires your thoughts.

boyf!chan who would set up ‘sleepovers’ at your shared apartment every weekend just because he wants to do something special for you. (he would also let you help build a pillow fort)

boyf!Chan who always gives your forehead a little kiss whenever he leaves the room you're in, even if he leaves for a second he’s gonna smooch your head.

boyf!Chan who when sleeping next to each other, drags you closer to him if you roll away because he's missing your warmth, he just likes having you close knowing you're with him makes him sleep better.

boyf!Chan who doesn't know what he's doing, but tries his hardest to be the best boyfriend for you.

[criticalbeauregard]

vexleth sketch (click for better quality)

it's "i have passed through fire" keyleth not "i have passed through bees"

inspo: @elliesgaymachete for the idea :)