#everything about it dragged me in by the neck and told me i was in for a wild fuckin ride
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canihaveacalmtime · 2 days ago
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"Here's your hot cocoa, have a good evening!"
You receive your drink as you bow, thanking the employee and go outside to find a seat. As you sat next to a decorated christmas tree, you look in front of you and see a giant build board printed a familiar face on it.
Should you be proud to know that your memory is very good because you could recognize your highschool bully?
Probably not, haha...
You take a sip of your cocoa, thinking about what had happened in the past between the two of you.
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It's like any other highschool bully story that everyone always read, during your first year, you were picked on by the richest and the most handsome guy in school and he forced you to do his homework everyday for 2 years. Tormenting you in the halls, drag you out whenever his mood isn't it, making you a laughing stock for the whole school.
But why only 2 years? Because everything went upside down for him when the last year started.
His parents had enough of him and brutally cut off his bank account, told him that either he learn how to work hard or he'd never get his hands on his father company. When he thought that his long time friends would still be there to support him through this, they quickly turn their backs on him upon knowing that he has no use left to them.
During the time he was at his worst, you stepped in and offer him a helping hand, telling him that you will help him with everything for this last year and in return, he must comply with your one request and can not decline.
He was wary at first when you suddenly did that but he had no other choices as there was no one else except you that would help him anyways.
And he was not disappointed for trusting you, you supported him through every single thing, improved his grades making him in the top 50 of the school, engaged him in participating in that model contest and also fulfil the role of being a friend that he can rely on.
When the school year end came, it was also time he hear your request. You couldn't remember much about anything other than what you said, you can't remember how the scenery looked like, what the principal was saying on stage, even the look on his face because after you said it, you left immediately.
"Let's never cross paths ever again in this life, that is my request."
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You realized that your cup is now empty just like how the streets are also beginning to be, so you throw the cup into the trash can and walk home.
You wonder back to the times when you were teaching him the subjects, you would sometime catch him staring in an obsessive way at you but you didn't really care back then because your hatred for him was too much but now that you moved on, you wonder why he was staring at you like that.
"He also said something after I left that day but I couldn't hear what it was.." You mumble as you step out of the elevator to your apartment only to be greeted with a door that is not locked at all.
Your movements were hesitant, slowly, you open the door with cautious as you also carefully step inside your home. Right after you had closed the front door, a sudden sting on your neck send you off balance, fall into someone's arms and fainted immediately.
"Come get me at the apartment now." The tall figure said through a bluetooth headphone device on his ears.
Your bully smile down at you with a creepy smile, inhaling your familiar scent as he hug you close and tightly around his arms.
"You can tell me to do anything, give you anything, to die even. Anything but letting you leave."
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After they said those words, my world seemed like crashing down on me in seconds.
I guess I have no other choice but to fulfil a different request from them in the future then.
"I shall have you in my arms when we meet again, love."
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(ayy pov change :D)
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maybanksmusings · 1 day ago
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THE WALLS ; JJ MAYBANK
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SYNOPSIS ; when an unknown face appears in the outer banks searching for a father she's never met, she's unaware of how her life is about to be completely turned upside down.
WARNINGS ; jjmaybank x routledge!reader, strong language, depictions of violence, afab!reader, sexual content, mentions of abuse, drug and alcohol consumption, strangers to lovers, fast burn to slow burn, canon adjacent, not proofread.
AUTHORS NOTE ; no yapping today
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part one. part two.
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you never knew how relaxing it was to lay in the sun, the steady movements of the boat gently rocking you side to side. it was almost as if you hadn't set fire to everything you and john b grew up believing.
john b knew his mom took off when he was a kid, what he didn't know was that she was pregnant when she left. you thought that your dad died and your mom lived in your hometown her entire life.
both of you agreed that, for now at least, this branch of the family tree would be kept from the others until you've had enough time to fully wrap your heads around everything without the added input from everyone else.
"ladies and losers." john b claps, grabbing the attention of everyone on board "with the newest addition to our dysfunctional family," he gestures in your direction earning applause from the group, with the addition of a cheer from jj "the no pouge-on-pouge macking rule is still in full effect, just in case anyone has forgotten."
you don't miss the glare sent in jj's direction, the blond in question, however, was too busy making a face at you to even notice that he was the target of that rule.
it takes everything in you not to laugh, you understand why the rule may have been implemented in the past. young kids making up rules to protect their friendship. but you surely were all old enough and mature enough to handle real adult relationships.
"does our newest recruit partake?" pope asked throwing a can of beer to jj and kiara before looking at you once more.
"are you forgetting she was flat drunk when she went all cat woman on topper?" kiara joked, cracking open her can and raising it to you "to passing your initiation."
"and to beating the shit out of a kook!"
"here here!"
you sit up to bow as the others raise their cans to you, unable to stop the soft laugh that escapes as you sit up again "thank you, thank you. i'd like to thank my agent, my manager,"
john b jokingly shoves your shoulder to shut you up "a little humility wouldn't kill you, you know."
"humility is for losers" you taunt, making your way over to the cooler to see for yourself what was inside "besides, you owe me so humility is redundant."
before you can continue excusing your incoming speech, you're jolted forward by a sudden bump in the boat. you lose your footing, grabbing the closest thing to you and dragging it into the water with you.
person. the closest person to you and dragging them into the water with you.
you were a pretty decent swimmer, decent enough to not drown at least, but when you hit the water, any swimming ability was replaced with dread. truth be told you shouldn't be surprised, not even twenty four hours ago someone did in fact try to drown you so it was only natural you began to panic.
your brain was begging your body to do something, to override your fear with instinct, but no matter what you did all you could do was kick and flail.
you cling to the familiar frame dragging you to the surface, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a koala clung to a tree. you hid your face in the crook of jj's neck to shield your tears from the group, even if there was a chance you could explain it away as water in your eyes.
"you're okay, baby" jj coos, his hand cradling the back of your head "you're safe, i got you."
"the fuck was that!?" kiara shouts, helping the boys drag you and jj back onto the boat.
pope peers out over the edge, trying to catch a glimpse of anything that could be in the water "guys, i think we hit a boat?" he calls out over his shoulder.
almost as if in sync, jj and john b exchanged a knowing look. they knew what it meant, from what you learned so far they've been attached at the hip for years so it wasn't a shock that they had some weird telepathy.
without a word from either of them, they dive off the side of the boat and into the water, undoubtedly to scout out whatever pope had spotted. neither kiara or pope showed much of a reaction, probably because they were used to their antics.
you, on the other hand, sat by the edge of the boat and peered into the murky water below. you were holding your breath, waiting for any sort of sign of life from either of the boys.
time passes agonisingly slowly, but soon enough you spot the unmistakable head of brown hair rising to the surface.
"jackpot, baby!" jj hollers, throwing his arms into the air in celebration "one poor bastard made aggie mad, that's a seriously primo boat."
kiara shrugs "what do those kooks expect, they're harming the environment with their flashy boats, it's karma."
"easy there, greenpeace." john b huffs, pulling himself up and into the boat "mother natures most recent victim could have all sorts of profitable shit inside."
"exibit a," jj announces proudly, producing a silver canister from his pocket "would our newest pledge like to do the honours?"
"i would love to incriminate myself by stealing private property!" you exclaim, sarcasm dripping off of every syllable. nonetheless, you take it from him and shake its contents onto the floor of the boat.
the metallic clang makes everyone wince, the group sighing in disappointment of seeing what was inside.
"wow, greaat, almost died over a lousy compass." jj groans, plopping himself down into a seat.
"it isn't a lousy compass," you mutter, scrambling to retrieve your fathers' compass from your backpack and comparing the two side by side.
they were identical.
"cause that isnt freaky.." pope mumbled, peering over your shoulder.
when you look to john b, he's already looking at you, knowing exactly who this compass used to belong to.
"it's a set," your voice sounds like you have just joined the dots of a brain wracking mystery.
"two compasses, one for each kid."
before anyone can question what exactly john b meant by that, a sharp noise zips past your ear, grazing the top of your arm and scaring the shit out of you.
the five of you look towards the source of the noise, another boat is coming towards the hms pouge, and the two men on board looked far from pleased as they aimed their guns right at the five of you.
"shit, shit!" john b ducks into the drivers seat and hits the gas, jolting all of you backwards as you sped through the marsh "get down!"
you all do as instructed, laying face down on the boats floor, rocking with every sharp, zig-zagged movement john b made. each of you flinch every time a metallic ding rings out against the boat's exterior, you hear kiara humming a tune to keep her mind occupied.
your eyes scan the boat for anything that could help, an idea coming to you the second you spot an old fishing net.
"y/n, what are you doing!? get down!"
you ignore popes shouts, moving quickly to gather up the net and toss it off the back of the boat. as you had hoped, the aggressors' boat gets caught up in the net, allowing john b to get you all out of there without harm.
"you moronic genius!" john b half praises, half scolds, the moment the boat stops at the chateau's dock. grabbing your shoulders and giving you a shake "what is with you and almost dying?"
"a thank you wouldn't hurt," you retort, the throbbing sting in your upper arm still as prominent as when it first happened "this poor girl couldn't handle it."
you pat the side of the hms as you climb off, your fellow pouges following behind as you all tiredly drag your feet towards the house.
"looks gnarly," jj remarked, appearing beside you and focusing his gaze on the small wound on your arm "here, lemme help out."
you are very much aware that it's nothing more than a surface wound, barely a graze, yet you allowed jj to lead you over to the hammock and sit you down.
when he headed inside to grab what he needed, you sank into the comfort of the hammock and closed your eyes. the slight breeze, the gentle rocking of the hammock, the warm sun burning down on you. it does a good job of helping you decompress from the insanity that ensued since your arrival.
the hammock shifts under you when jj returns, the extra weight tilting the fabric to bring you closer to him. he doesn't want to speak, to disturb you in your peaceful bubble. he knows he's staring but he can't look away.
"you just got here and you already look like you've been put through the wringer." jj jokes, though there's a clear sense of seriousness underneath.
and he isn't wrong, the bluish bruises staining your throat from toppers hand, and now the blood smeared all over your arm which made it look much worse than it was.
"two near-death experiences will do that,"
"two near-death experiences so far.."
you know he's telling the truth, but you can't help but laugh as he helps you sit up. a comfortable silence falls between you as he wipes around the graze with a cloth, before gently placing a bandaid over the wound.
the close proximity doesn't seem to phase either of you, at least not enough to get anyone to move. without a word, he reclines back into the hammock, an arm out in a silent invitation.
you reason with yourself that it was harmless, john b's 'macking' rule echoing in your ears as you considered your options. realistically speaking, both you and jj knew this was far from harmless but more like the edge of a slippery slope you could both snowball down.
but you were tired, and it was jj, and the others weren't even around to see it.
no harm, no foul, right?
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taglist!
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@rainingcecilias @gigistalked @loverofmarsss
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amblebamble · 1 day ago
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Arcane Season 2 Spoilers - RE: TimeBomb
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“Her name was Isha.”
Ekko does not stop painting her arm, neon green on cloudy blue. His lines are knife-sharp, thin where the tip of the brush caresses her skin, and the paint barely runs as she watches an hourglass unfold.
“Who?”
“You said something… about creating a better world for someone,” she can’t remember his exact words, “her name was Isha.”
“A friend?”
“A baby, really.”
She doesn’t care to elaborate, and Ekko doesn’t ask for more. He releases her elbow to drag his fingertips down to her wrist, pausing a moment, then slips his hand into hers. Jinx does not reciprocate.
Instead, she locates the paintbrush previously dipped in neon pink, the brush-end fatter than Ekko’s choice, and – ignoring how paint splatters across Ekko’s trousers – paints a streak across his chest. He jumps back, a half shout bitten down, hands flying to his chest and patting around. Jinx waits for him to look back up at her to raise a brow and wave her brush with an eyeroll.
Ekko doesn’t apologise for the misconception. Jinx doesn’t apologise for every action it took to lead him there.
He settles back down in front of her, scooting his stool closer until their knees are slotted together, giving her access to his chest. Her hand trembles. His hands remain face-up in his lap, a slight curl to his fingers, lax. She prefers the caution.
The second line she draws with involuntary care, an X forming unhurriedly where her brush ghosts his sternum.
“Sorry I’m not her,” she says.
Ekko had told her of his time away, of a world without Vi, of green trees and abundant produce flooding the clean streets of Zaun, of a Powder that—
“I don’t want you to be.”
He takes the brush from her, and without it she is bereft of places to rest her hands.
“It was—” everything “—a good place, but I left it.”
His own encase her face, a palm cupping her jaw, the other hand curled around the paintbrush and resting on her cheek. It is cold where he swipes beneath her eye.
“I realised I had given up on you,” he ducks lower, peering up at her until she meets his gaze, “Jinx.”
Her eyes flutter, stinging with stale air as he paints another line beneath her other eye. When the brush is set in his lap, his hands return to her face. Her fingertips graze his chest, curling back into her palms, but when he remains in place she settles more securely against him, poised to push, instead snagged on the erratic pulse white-hot against her palm.
“I’m not coming back,” she whispers, eyes wide, her own pulse off-beat. “Whatever happens, whatever outcome, I don’t make it back.”
She had decided, when she heard him out. A private thought. It seems an impossible secret now - had burst from her in traitorous confession.
“Okay,” he says, though the word catches in his throat, and he repeats, “Okay.”
Jinx presses her lips tight together, rocketing forward to wrap her arms around his neck, her nose shoved in the crook of her elbow. His own arms encircle her, one hand at the base of her neck, simply holding her.
"You've wasted it - on me,"
Always a dance with them; cyclical, endless repetition. She speaks every word around 'sorry' without ever saying it, can never say it, isn't sure anymore who she means to apologise to.
"It was a choice," he tells her, "not a waste."
Silco had said killing was a cycle, was a mistake. This is another kind, a different cycle, she's just not sure where the mistake starts. She simply has to leave.
--
Later, when they’ve let go and Jinx fiddles to wrap a pink tie around Ekko’s hair, he’ll jokingly point to the transferred X along her chest and pick up the paintbrush to define it better, all while they ignore their reddened eyes and the pink trailing alongside her mascara.  
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spiderb00 · 8 hours ago
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Meet the girls - Megan Skiendiel
Megan Skiendiel X Reader 
Synopsis - Meeting your girlfriend's parents can be scary, but the five girls she lives with, oh man... 
Genre – Fluff 
a/n - thank you for request this, 6’3 Anon! I wanted to write something about Megan, but my brain wouldn't give me anything. <3  (request)
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You were nervous, the whole way here was extremely slow and as much as Megan tried to reassure you over the phone, you weren't entirely convinced of her words. So when you pulled up in front of the Kats' house, you hadn't been able to get out of the car.  
Megan was an important person in your life, the person you wanted to share everything with, the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. That's why you were so nervous to meet the Kats. It was as if you were entering into your judgment, the debate on whether or not you would be worthy of dating Megan.   
Your thoughts were interrupted when a smiling Megan tapped the window, finally getting you out of the car.  
"How long did you come?" Megan asked, standing for a moment on tiptoe to reach her cheek, giving a quick kiss there.    
"I think about five minutes ago. I was just..."  
"Yes, of course, I know you were up your big baby." Megan said, looking at you with playful looks. "You know it's kind of comical? You usually intimidate people a little bit, but here you are, shaking like a kitten." 
"Hey! I wasn't shaking, I just wanted to look presentable. And it's not my fault that people find tall people intimidating." You said, looking at your girlfriend, that she was looking at you with a defiant smile. 
"Alright then, Miss Nervous, let's get in before they start saying I made you up." Megan said as she intertwined your hands with hers, dragging you inside.   
The house was big, beautiful, and intimidating, but come on, you could handle it. Megan's idea was a relaxed dinner at home, where you could be more comfortable, since you weren't public yet. So when you all settled down at the dinner table, Megan introduced each girl and your nerves calmed down more by the minute.   
"So, Yn..." Sophia began. "Where did you and Megan meet?" The older girl asked casually.   
 "Oh, we have some friends in common. One day, my friend Malia asked me out with her and some friends, so that's when Kylie introduced me to Megan. And I kind of fell in love right away." You replied, looking at your girlfriend sitting next to you and intertwining your hands with hers on the table. 
"Aww, you guys are so cute!" Lara says looking at you two.   
All the girls agreed with Lara's line, immediately seeing how you treat Megan.   
"Are your tattoos real?" Yoonchae asked, making you laugh a little.   
"Yes, they are." you said, giving the younger girl a smile.   
"Wow, there are many, they are very cool."  
"Thank you, Yoonchae." you said, making the younger girl smile at you.   
"You kind of remind me of Sophia's girlfriend." Daniela says as she takes a sip of her drink.   
"What? They don't look alike." Sophia says laughing lightly.  
"No, she's right. It's just this whole aura of protective and intimidating, but when you open your mouth and we realize you're just a Golden Retriver, I don't know." Manon says, elaborating well on the comparison. "I'm sure you'd get along just fine with Sophia's girlfriend." Manon completes.   
"Girl..."   
The girls engage in a deep argument, being loud and electric as always. You and your girlfriend exchanging glances, laughing lightly at the whole situation.  
"So maybe I didn't need to be so afraid." You said, scratching the back of your neck.   
"I told you, I told you so, there's nothing to fear."  
"I just wanted them to think I'm good for you. That's why I was afraid." you said, looking into the redhead's eyes.   
"You're perfect for me." Megan said, taking your face in her hands and kissing you.   
"AWW!" A chorus of "aww's" interrupts your kiss with Megan, causing you to part with smiles on your faces.   
"Shut up." Megan says, throwing a napkin to hit any of the girls.     
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That's it, kisses for everyone!!! <3
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amplifyordie · 2 years ago
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CYBERHEX 〔released March 11, 2022〕
“Cyberhex is my love letter to you, our fans, for everything you have done for me over the course of some of the most mentally taxing few years I’ve had to go through. At times where I felt like my world was ending, as well as the world around us, it was always in my mind that I was able to turn to the special relationship we have created together for help, and I cannot thank you enough for that. Outside of my own personal experiences, It has been equally as fulfilling to me to see that in the face of tireless forces that continue to try and perpetuate hatred and negativity towards so many of us coexisting on this planet, we have all stood together to resist and fight back knowing that love and compassion will always prevail. We ARE the resistance. We ARE Cyberhex. I love you. Thank you.” 
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sleepyangelkami · 2 months ago
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more vi plss!! (and reader is a pillow princess)
SAY IT .vi
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𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 1.5K
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VI (ARCANE) X FEM!READER
𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - vi calls you exactly what you are, a pillow princess and in efforts to prove her wrong, you only end up proving her right. but that's fine, because that was all she wanted.
𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - smut, dom!vi, sub!reader, pillow princess!reader, fingering (r.receiving), praise kink, dumbification, dirty talk, alternate universe, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷
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it started off as a joke.
a simple joke that left your girlfriends lips. you'd been laying on your stomach across the sitting room sofa, words mindlessly falling from both your lips as you flipped through a magazine. she sat man-spreading across the arm chair, controller in hand. you always said she loved her video games more than you, but she'd always deny.
then you heard it, the joke spewing from her lips with a smirk on her face. "yeah, okay, pillow princess."
instantly, your head snapped up from your magazine. your glittery pen that you'd been circling clothing with dropped from your pretty fingers. "i'm not a pillow princess."
vi seemed to sense your distress. she set the controller down as the game conveniently ended. "well, i'm not saying there's anything wrong with it." she leaned back against the armchair, resting her hands behind her head. "i love that you're a pillow princess, believe me."
you wouldn't believe how many times she'd gotten off just by thinking about it. you were so good for her, so responsive. she hardly had to touch you and you were falling apart. sure, she loved watching your head between her thighs as you whimpered into her but there was nothing more she loved than watching you, hearing you. all of it.
you seemed butt hurt by the joke.
but vi swiftly changed the conversation, noticing the furrow of your brow.
vi knew how sensitive you were, how easily you took everything to heart and she didn't want you over thinking this. and her tactics proved right, by five minutes later you were showing her a pretty top you'd spotted on the coloured pages.
you didn't think much of it at first. in fact, for the next while, you didn't think of it at all.
perhaps you had too much in your head to contain so much information, you told vi that was why you talked so much.
it wasn't until vi had you pinned down against the bed, making out with you, that the moment popped into your head again.
you almost shut it out on accident, then it clicked. vi was kissing you deeply, her hands dragged at your hips, pulling and kneading the skin while you passed heavy breaths through your lips, kissing her back just as hard.
and suddenly, you had this urge to prove her wrong.
vi felt you shift, letting you take the lead.
she felt you turn you both over, you landed in her lap and suddenly, she was the one against the bed. her brows shifted in amusement. "what's this, baby?"
you shifted your hair to one side of your head so it didn't get in the way, you weren't really used to things like this. "jus' trying to prove something." you mumbled before reaching down and kissing her lips.
don't get me wrong, vi loved the feeling of you kissing her, whatever way you sat, laid or stood, on top or not. but she couldn't seem to shake the amusement as your mouth left hers, leaving a trail of kisses against her neck. "this have something to do with that joke i made before?"
your lips stopped momentarily at her neck, eyes gazing up. "'m not a pillow princess."
vi didn't understand why you were so adamant about it.
there was no shame in it. on the contrary, she adored it.
"yeah?" her brow cocked and she was looking at you this way that had you nodding, suddenly unable to speak. "y'sure, sweetheart? cause if i remember correctly..." suddenly, you were being flipped over again, beneath her all over again. "you quite like sitting there all pretty 'n taking it."
you could feel her hands trail down past your waist, kneading your thighs in her hands. "v-vi, 'm trying to―" you were cut off by the breath being caught in your throat.
vi's hand had trailed up your skirt, her fingers dancing over your panties. "you're trying to what, sweet girl?" you felt her fingers rub against your clothed clit. "c'mon, use your words f'me."
"vi!" you whined, feeling her fingers against you. she wasn't being fair, you were supposed to take charge but how could you think about anything when she was touching you like that?
a soft laugh left the girls lips as she pushed your panties aside, fingers gentle against your swollen bud. "love it when you whine like that."
you could only look up at her with your tinted hot cheeks.
she began to press gentle kisses against the nape of your neck, fingers trailing down to your hole, she rounded her fingers against you, collecting the trail of your slick across her digits. she made a fake gasp noise. "'n look how wet you are already." she couldn't help but smirk. "good girl."
two single words that set you off every time.
a gasp left your lips as she slipped her two fingers inside you at once. you suddenly moaned with pleasure.
vi was like a drug. every time she touched you, you found yourself addicted, begging and chasing for her to praise you. you'd do anything to please her but luckily for you, that meant just sitting there and taking it. you truly did wish you could be less 'responsive' but vi wouldn't take it any other way. her favourite thing to do was turn you dumb with her mere fingers, maybe even her strap.
your eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, feeling her fingers pound against your sopping cunt. "please, vi." you moaned out. "please don't stop."
"yeah? wanna be my good girl again, huh?" nudging your face with her nose, littering kisses on your cheek.
you could only whimper out with a nod. vi had this way of making you feel like you were high on magic. you couldn't help but want her in every way.
"then say it, angel." fingers pumping in and out, embarrassing squelching sounds bounced off each wall of the bedroom. "say you're my pillow princess."
she was met with a mere whine of dissatisfaction from you.
she feigned sympathy with a coo. "awh, i know, baby. my poor girl, jus' so mean, aren't I?" but the girl didn't care much for your whining and whimpering, she'd get you to say it before you came. "but you gotta say it, yeah? don't want me to stop do you?"
you pursed your lips closed. "mm-mm. please don't stop." you practically panted out, you could almost feel frustration build in your water line. "nnghh― please, vi!"
"four words." is all she whispered back, her palm grazed against your clit every time her fingers pounded into your entrance. "know you can say it, pretty girl. jus' need me to make you all dumb, don't you, baby?"
a whimper of her name was the only thing that left your lips, eyes screwing shut.
"close, sweetheart? 's now or never, baby. say it or i'll stop."
the feeling was knotting in your stomach, ready to unravel. you didn't want to but you knew better than to cum without following orders.
so you forced the damned sentence to pass your lips. "'m your pillow princess."
and a coo only fell from the magenta haired girl. "awh, know you are, sweet girl. see? my good girl always listens, doesn't she? huh?" vi tended to ask you questions while knuckles deep in your pussy, she knew you couldn't utter a single word. "you jus' need me to make your poor pussy feel all good, don't you?"
a breathless, "uh-huh." was her answer. "'m close!"
"yeah? gonna be good f'me 'n say please?" of course, vi had to make you beg for it.
"please!" you practically squeaked out as your back arched against the bed.
a chuckle left her lips. "you can do better than that."
and you really, definitely could. but vi had made you all dumb, exactly her plan. "please let me cum, vi. please, need it so bad. please." you repeated the word please in little whispers, unable to hold back the knot in your stomach.
"you're such a good girl, 'course you can cum, baby." she felt your spongy walls suddenly tighten around her fingers. "that's it, sweetheart, cum all over vi's fingers, 's a good girl."
vi pumped her fingers in and out of you, letting you ride out your high like she always did until you were squirming away from her.
she leaned against the bed with a self-loving smirk on her face, hardly glancing your way. you laid next to her, chest falling and rising as you panted out breaths. a beat of silence passed until you spoke up. "vi?" turning your head to her.
"yes, my pillow princess?" she teased.
instantly, a frown fell on your face as you crossed your arms over your chest. she wasn't being fair. "i was gonna say something, now i'm not speaking to you."
"oh, come on." she lifted your face by her thumb to make you look at her again. "no pouting or else i'll have to shut you up all over again."
an idea suddenly fell flat on your head.
your pout deepened.
vi only climbed over you with the smuggest of smirks on her face. "you dirty little slut."
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main masterlist/vi's masterlist
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littlepuppers · 4 months ago
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fantasizing about dog sitting rnnnn. I’ve never dog sat or anything, and everyone in my neighborhood has big dogs for protection. But i’m thinking if i did offer to dog sit and be told how to take care of the dogs and everything. I would bend down to put their food in their food bowls and he would trap my hips and start mounting me. i try to push him off but he starts barking and biting at my neck. frozen in fear, i try to wiggle my hips away but his doggy cock goes under my skirt. as he puts all his weight on me, my upper body is forced onto the cold floor, and my face into his food bowl. i yell at him to stop, heel, walk?
nothing works, he just keeps thrusting till he pushes my panties aside. no no no no please. my tears start to fall into the kibble as i lay there whimpering, still trying to push his paws off of my hips. but he pulls my hips closer and i feel his hot cock push into me. completely limp and terrified i realize i can’t get him off of me. he’s so big, pushing against my walls and fucking me so fast and i can’t help but moan a little bit because he’s hitting all of my spots. i start to get close and clench around him but he immediately bites down hard on my neck and pushes a huge doggy knot inside me. i scream into the food and am forced to not move because i feel like ill split open if i do.
god. what the fuck. i need this dog off of me now. his slobber dripping off my neck and his teeth marks littered across it. these are definitely gonna bruise. fuck everyone’s gonna find out. i feel his hot doggy semen pool into me and leaking into my cervix, it’s the most disgusting feeling. maybe he’s done now? i try to push his paws off again and he starts to back up.
NOT DONE FUCK. i get dragged a few inches back because fuck he’s fucking stuck in me and have to wait this shit out for god know how long. it hurts, i still feel his cum , now leaking out of me and making a huge mess on the floor. he starts licking the back of my neck and licking off the kibble stuck to my face.
“dumb fucking dog,” i say but he grunts and harshly backs up as i hear a POP and liquid splashing on the ground. my legs shake and give out as i fall down into the dogs mess of cum. so gross. i feel his cold snout pushing my butt back up and he starts licking into my hole, pushing his semen back in. fuck. get the fuck away please i can’t take more. he leaves me.
for the next few days of dog sitting i’ve felt his cum constantly leak out of me and he doesn’t stop trying to push his snout up my skirt. he even does it when the owners come back and i hand them the keys back. they snap and him and say no, only to notice his red cock out and dripping as he’s sniffing me. i push him away and walk out, thankful that it’s over, looking down annoyed and disgusted as i see more of his arousal dripping down my leg.
(fuck i got so carried away writing this, so sorries :33)
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astonmartinii · 4 days ago
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put it all on red (bull) | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x fem russell reader
her brother won the race? does she know? does she care?
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
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yourusername
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tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: VIVA LAS VEGAS
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user3: this is fucking hilarious
user4: her whole ass brother won the actual race and there's not a peep of him on the post
user5: i mean her boyfriend did win the championship...
yourusername: exactlyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy i mean my instagram is for pretty girls only
user6: do not erase george's beauty
yourusername: nothing to erase girlypop - FUGLY!
user7: the way the guys are in the media pen and can't see that y/n is coming for their necks in instagram comments
user8: i fear she's already started drinking...
user9: in the back of the sky broadcast she hands max a drink and i'm starting to suspect that it was not water or red bull
user10: LMAO HELMUT TOOK A SIP AND LIKE NEARLY FELL OVER
yourusername: i've never claimed to be good at mixing drinks
maxverstappen1: WHERE WAS THE TONIC ???
yourusername: i don't believe in tonic 💔
maxverstappen1: YOU GAVE ME STRAIGHT GIN?
yourusername: straight 🤣
maxverstappen1: Y/N THAT'S ATTEMPTED MURDER ON HELMUT ???
yourusername: free me i did nothing wrong !!!
user11: these people kill me
user12: sign of a healthy relationship is making gay allegations about each other
yourusername: ALLEGATIONS ???
yourusername: george is lucky that he was the first russell carmen met ...
georgerussell63: RIGHT, I HAVE HAD ENOUGH
georgerussell63: thank you for the congratulations but STOP flirting with MY girlfriend
yourusername: congratulations??? for what?
georgerussell63: WINNING THE RACE?
yourusername: boring!
georgerussell63: you are so lucky we're family because you are a few cards short of a deck
yourusername: CARDS? that reminds me ... time to gamble!
maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1: winning without the fastest car isn't for everyone
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user13: this caption has y/n russell written all over it
yukitsunoda0511: i sat here and watched them giggle to themselves for a good five minutes while posting this
user14: tell max to post more pictures like the second one
yukitsunoda0511: they are not safe for innocent eyes and they are not taken with a locked door :/
user15: why are you there ???
yukitsunoda0511: they're very generous when they're drunk !
user16: so real
yukitsunoda0511: it's also not just me :(
user17: just how many people are using the bar tab?
liamlawson30: me!
oscarpiastri: me!
charles_leclerc: me!
landonorris: me!
pierregasly: me!
alexalbon: me!
yourusername: broke bitches
carlossainz55: you do not have a job?
yourusername: gambling and being pretty is more of a job that what you will have next season 🤨
carlossainz55: has anyone ever told you you're a really mean drunk
yourusername: just george about a billion times, you get used to it (we just don't invite you out)
user18: she is just dragging anyone now
user19: hold on that is her boyfriend's work boyfriend's enemy
user20: girl is 90% of lestappen twitter's source and you think she's not gonna have a problem with sainz???
yourusername: you're so sexy i actually can't even function
maxverstappen1: gotta put the trophy in trophy husband somehow
yourusername: jokes aside i am super duper proud of you, this year has been insane and you've proven that you are the bestest eva
maxverstappen1: couldn't have done it without my fave cheerleader
yourusername: i'll wear the uniform and everything ....
schecoperez: STOP
georgerussell63: still no congratulations? i know you won the title or whatever but we're going to be brothers soon SHOW SOME RESPECT
yourusername: literally suck his dick
yourusername: wait no
yourusername: suck my dick
yourusername: WAIT NO
yourusername: choke ❤️
georgerussell63: i have no words at this point
maxverstappen1: so romantic hehehehe
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yourusername
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yourusername: put it all on on red (bull)
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user22: ma'am why is there a cat?
user23: i think we already know the answer
user24: oh i know the answer i just wanna know the batshit explanation
georgerussell63: exsqueeze me ???
yourusername: don't speak like that about your nephew ??
georgerussell63: tell me you're not keeping it??
maxverstappen1: IT? HE JUST LEAPFROGGED YOU IN OUR WILL
georgerussell63: 1. you have a joint will ??? 2. why am i on it ??? 3. what is a cat doing with a monaco penthouse ???
maxverstappen1: i thought you could use the money ? i know toto ain't paying you what he promised me
yourusername: george your weird sugar daddy is more broke than you think sorry xx
georgerussell63: once again, what is stopping me taking the monaco house from a literal cat ?
yourusername: caesar will be very aware of his rights string bean - just because you talk in an uppity accent doesn't mean you actually know anything
georgerussell63: i cannot tell who corrupted who but i am sick of being your victim :(
user25: yes as fun as watching them dog george is i do want to know caesar's origin story
user26: i have a very bad feeling i know where he got his name
alexalbon: HE'S NOT NAMED AFTER THE CASINO IS HE?
yourusername: ding ding ding we have a winner, always knew you were the smarter half of galex
maxverstappen1: your gambling is getting out of hand
yourusername: did i or did i not win us a cat ?
maxverstappen1: AND £250,000 ???
yourusername: didn't want to promote gambling too much
yourusername: KIDS DO NOT GAMBLE IT IS DUMB
yourusername: look at me i literally have a child now ???
user27: we have lost the original plot of the movie
user28: you must be new, we stopped trying to make sense of these two years ago
lewishamilton: i can assure you it does not get any easier when you know them personally
yourusername: we aim to be sexy and mysterious
lewishamilton: that's strange because you guys dance like little boys and overshare at any given opportunity
maxverstappen1: guilty !
georgerussell63
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georgerussell63: i won the las vegas grand prix and all i got was this lousy cat
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user29: i am sensing a y/n and max meltdown incoming
user30: maybe they're too hungover to argue?
yourusername: NEVER
maxverstappen1: LOUSY CAT? FIRST OF ALL HE'S NOT YOURS SO KEEP HIS NAME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH AND ALSO I WILL KILL YOU WITH A GUN
georgerussell63: excuse me?
yourusername: do NOT threaten my boyfriend !!!!!!!!
georgerussell63: do you have selective sight or something?
yourusername: no i just like him more than i like you
georgerussell63: you only met him because of me?
maxverstappen1: i have faith we would've found each other regardless we have a SOUL TIE
yourusername: EXACTLY
georgerussell63: i give up.
yourusername: this is exactly why you don't have a championship ... no drive (pun intended)
georgerussell63: NOW THAT'S IT
maxverstappen1: are you threatening my girlfriend?
georgerussell63: OMG LEAVE ME ALONE
user31: their commitment to never letting george have a day of peace is really quite charming
user32: they're going to give him grey hairs before he even turns 27
alexalbon: i gotta say georgie, i'm not with you on this one - caesar is THE dude
georgerussell63: are all my eggs falling out of the basket at once?
maxverstappen1: that's called karma for calling caesar 'it' and a lousy cat
georgerussell63: i can't lie i am missing your honeymoon phase you guys were a lot nicer
yourusername: we never left the honeymoon phase we just like annoying all of you
maxverstappen1: makes you people leave us alone :3
landonorris: you don't have to be mean to do that
yourusername: YOU JUST GOT OFF OF THIN ICE NORRIS WATCH YOUR STEP
user33: they can make excuses all these want but they just like annoying everyone else
user34: i mean based on their vegas shenanigans i think they would be super fun to be around
yourusername: oscar literally came to stay while he 'looked for a flat' in monaco and hasn't left... it's been three months. face it we're a HOOT
oscarpiastri: they are fun! the secret is to not be annoying sorry george!
maxverstappen1: they grow up so fast :')
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maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1: took a gamble when i went for the lanky posh dude's sister and i can now say it was definitely worth it
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user37: bro says snug as a bug in a rug once and now he's labelled as posh HE'S FROM NORFOLK
user38: it's also the way that y/n never gets the posh allegations
georgerussell63: it's because she's scruffy as fuck x
maxverstappen1: literally outside your house with a knife, keep talking
georgerussell63: i'm a grown man, max, you don't scare me
maxverstappen1: so i'm free to do a little gardening while you hide inside?
georgerussell63: you wouldn't...
yourusername: GO FOR THE PEONIES MAX
georgerussell63: NOT THE PEONIES I BEG HAVE MERCY
user39: so i'm supposed to read all of this shit and take them seriously when they get in the car
user40: it's part of the charm i think
user41: it's all fun and games until you remember they are full grown adults who can vote who are arguing over flowers
yourusername: i'd go through the strenuous task of growing up with george thousands more times just to be with you
maxverstappen1: i've been in love with you since i was 14, there has never been anyone else for me and there will never be anyone else for me
yourusername: ugh why didn't we just get married in vegas ?
maxverstappen1: because even though i did just harm his flowers, i do want to marry you in front of our families
yourusername: i guess you're right
georgerussell63: you know what? based on how you usually talk to me... i'm touched
yourusername: if i'm feeling generous i'll even let you do the seating chart
georgerussell63: I LOVE YOU BEST SISTER EVER
user42: only a declaration of love between max and y/n could end with george proclaiming his love for charts
user43: how does one procure an invite to this wedding ...
yourusername: be cunty
yourusername: @zakbrownceo YOU'RE BARRED
yourusername
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yourusername: i'm the sibling who can't drive and yet i'm the one with four championship trophies in their house... george, step your pussy up x
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user44: omg queen who can't drive, she's such representation
yourusername: george says i'm so mean all the time but really i'm generous, i clearly gave him all the driving genes
user45: have you even tried driving?
yourusername: i went on max's sim once and got motion sickness and i'm also with the best driver in the world and siblings with an okay one - i'm surviving
alexalbon: he's already texted me about your language on this post
yourusername: just because he's a boomer in a string bean's body does not mean i must censor myself - he should know what stepping his pussy up means by now
georgerussell63: i will not be stepping on any pussy, i respect both felines and women
maxverstappen1: you called caesar 'it' so PLEASE
georgerussell63: i respect women?
maxverstappen1: you called y/n scruffy?
georgerussell63: that's y/n it doesn't count
maxverstappen1: that's not very feminist of you george. i am disappointed
yourusername: i agree, i really think the GDPA should reconsider the type of person they're letting run it
georgerussell63: huh?
yourusername: not once have i been invited to a grid meal ....
georgerussell63: well you're not on the grid that's why
yourusername: FEMALE EXCLUSION
maxverstappen1: you know we have attachment issues, you're so heartless george
georgerussell63: what is going on ???
yourusername: you CLEARLY don't care about me
maxverstappen1: and you CLEARLY don't care about the wellbeing of the grid
georgerussell63: I'M SORRY???
user46: george is unbelievably easy to rattle
user47: it must be so fun
yourusername: oh believe me, we have way too much fun
maxverstappen1: we once convinced him that it was a social faux pas to shake hands in japan lol
georgerussell63: IS THAT WHY MERCEDES WERE TOLD THAT EVERYONE THOUGHT I WAS REALLY RUDE ???
yourusername: LMAOOOOOOOO
maxverstappen1: so so so easy bro
user48: i guess a couple that plays mind tricks together, stay together?
yourusername: 4eva
maxverstappen1: til death do us part
yourusername: quite literally you're not leaving me alone with GEORGE
georgerussell63: you know what: DIE
yourusername: GASP
maxverstappen1: @fia get his ass
fin.
note: HAPPY MAX VERSTAPPEN CHAMPIONSHIP DAY TO ALL WHO CELEBRATE. IE. ME LOL
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euthymiya · 4 months ago
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laws of motion — ft. bakugou katsuki
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you come visit your boyfriend for dinner. he endures a headache from your presence. or: the first time you and katsuki say i love you
before you read: fem reader ; established relationship ; banter and fluff ; first time saying i love you ; katsuki the best built in chef and boyfriend all in one
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Bothering Katsuki is like an itch. This unbearable, hard to ignore, stupid little itch that you just can’t help but scratch. And sometimes, he’s just so peaceful and calm, you can’t help but poke a little at the sleeping bear.
“You have something you wanna tell me?”
Katsuki’s hands never shake. They’re firm, confident—even as they slow while they chop vegetables. You fight back a grin as he sets the knife down and clicks his teeth in irritation at your question.
“Don’t speak in codes, woman.”
“So you don’t have anything you’d like to tell me?” You press, raising a brow like you know something he doesn’t. He curls his lips into a frown as he scoffs.
“If I did, you’d already know, wouldn’t you? Don’t ask dumb questions.”
He picks up the knife, slicing away just like before. It’s a smooth movement—muscle memory and well practiced second nature. Something like the way he steps back a little to meet you half way when you wrap your arms around him from behind.
“I think there’s something you’re not admitting,” you try again, hand trailing under his shirt and rubbing along the hard muscle of his abs. He forces back a shiver. “Don’t lie to me.”
You grin in satisfaction when he twitches in agitation. “You’re callin’ me a liar now?” His head turns to glare at you over his shoulder.
You stifle a giggle. He doesn’t bother hiding the way his eyes instantly roll.
“Tired of your damn games, you shitty woman.”
“I’m sure there’s something you’ve never told me, Katsuki,” you hum, slowly dragging your palm up and down his bare skin under his shirt, raking your nails gently along the dips and contours as he finally caves and shivers at your touch. “Tell me a secret.”
“I don’t have fuckin’ secrets.” He grunts. “I tell you all my shit.”
The vegetables hit the pan, the sizzle breaking the silence as you bury your face into his shoulder. You bite gently, he gives you an annoyed hiss, and when your hand slides to gently trace over the scars across his skin, he leans into you more.
This time, the laugh isn’t one you can stifle. You laugh into the fabric of his tank top, pinching his skin lightly while he barks out a warning to quit it before he shoves you off.
But he’s just saying that—he always does. And when unstoppable force (your desire to bother your boyfriend) meets immovable object (his inability to stay mad at you), you’re stuck in a standstill.
You don’t mind being stuck with Katsuki, though.
“You wanna hear a secret from me, then?” You hum. He glances at you tiredly.
“I already know them all.”
“That’s not true,” you gasp, “if I told you everything now, we’d be bored for the rest of our lives. I have to tell you them slowly.”
“That’s bullshit,” he scoffs, nose wrinkling, “I’m never boring.”
“That’s true,” you chuckle, “you’re…pretty unique.”
“Oi,” he glares, turning to squeeze your cheeks together as your lips spread into a wide grin, “don’t say it like an insult.”
He turns the stove off, dinner forgotten as he turns to press you against the counter and cage you with his arms, eyebrows smoothing just slightly from their perpetual crinkle as your arms instantly wrap around his neck.
“Well, don’t you want to know my secret?” You press.
He ponders for a moment, weighing his options before a small sigh of resignation falls from his lips. “Kay. Let’s hear this stupid secret of yours. Better not be wasting my time.”
“Come closer,” you gesture at him with your finger. He raises a brow. You look at him with all seriousness. With a tired groan, he leans his ear against your lips as he mumbles something about your stupid shitty games.
“Spit it out, woman.”
“Don’t tell anyone,” you whisper against his ear, fingers tracing along the nape of his neck as he shivers at the tickle of your breath, “but I love you, Katsuki.”
He stills. A small, hitch in his breath as you smile against the shell of his ear and press a quick, delicate little peck against it. It’s silent for a moment like he’s registering your words.
And then, with a quick movement, he’s back to attending to dinner on the stove. He tosses the vegetables in the pan with ease, a smug look on his face as his eyes twinkle in hot direction.
“That’s not a secret, idiot,” he shoots you a shit-eating grin, “anyone with eyes knows you do. Fuckin’ lovesick it’s almost embarrassing.”
You gasp, offended as you give his shoulder a shove while he cackles at the irritated look on your face—and it’s when you realize it. He’s good at bothering you too. Maybe even better, actually.
“You asshole,” you scowl, “have you ever tried to be romantic in your life—”
You’re cut off with a kiss. Soft. Warm. Slightly chapped. Lingering longer than it has to. When he pulls away, his attention is back to the stove as he continues with dinner.
The sizzles are louder.
“I love you too, you shitty woman. It’s not a fuckin’ secret or you’re just dumb.”
It’s not a secret.
He cuts your strawberries and pumps gas in your car. (You’re too last minute about it for his liking.) He wipes your makeup when you’re tired and folds your laundry that you say you’ll get to. (You don’t ever get to it.) He stands so the sun isn’t in your face and keeps a spare jacket for you in case you’re cold. (Apparently jackets don’t ruin outfits if they’re boyfriend jackets.)
And you’re not dumb. You know he loves you too. You just needed to say it in the way you know best—by getting under that thick, stubborn skin of his.
“Yeah, you’re right,” you bite your lip to keep from smiling. It’s a bit of a useless effort. “You’re pretty embarrassing when you have a crush.”
Unstoppable force meets immovable object. You give Katsuki a headache. He loves you for it.
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I just don’t want to make dinner that’s all. I would like it if katsuki could make me dinner while I just be cheeky and annoying
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yeyinde · 4 months ago
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victory lap
“Got a proposition for you, Simon,” the man says, and Simon snorts. He reeks of the same brand of cheap cigarettes as always—stale smoke, day-old tobacco; acrid and unpleasant. It makes his skin itch.  “an’ I told you already, Price. I ain't interested in a team—” “Not a team, Simon.” The look he levels him with is nothing short of malicious. Dangerous. His hackles raise on instinct, everything inside of him hissing to back away. “Got something else in mind.” Then through the door was you. Pretty as a picture— And all his for the night. or: John strikes a deal with young Simon Riley. his cooperation on a team they're putting together in exchange for a night with you. naturally, it goes awry.
18+ SMUT. implied noncon, dubcon. under-negotiated kink. bondage. overstimulation. size difference. size kink. messy, sweaty gross sex. rough sex. unsafe sex. mean Simon. smitten Simon. bullydom!Simon. spit kink. degradation and humiliation. young!Simon (pre-mw2019-2022 when he was still a Seargent; 25-28ish). manipulation. attempts at taming a stray dog that goes as well as you'd expect.
It's John who takes his muzzle off.
Dangles the key on his finger when he kicks open the door, letting his Lieutenant glimpse what lay behind it. Giving a gruff, like what you see? when his eyes finally adjust to the low light flooding in.
It takes him half a second. Enough time to commit the scene in front of him to memory.
It's you, of course.
good dogs get rewards, don't they, Simon?
Waiting for him. Pretty as a picture in sleek silk chiffon ribboned in intricate shibari around your chest, stomach, and thighs. Legs spread on the table; ankles tied down to the sides in nude jute rope. Hands clasped together, fingers laced; wrists tied above your head. The blindfold wrapped around your head is a pale pink ribbon, thicker than the silk on your body. Wrapped twice over your eyes, and tied in a pretty bow behind your head, he imagines.
In the split of your thighs, he finds you already slick. Wet. It drips down onto the table, puddling beneath your ass. The spread of your pussy, glistening in the flushed light; the small, pink vibrator taped to your clit makes his cock twitch. 
"All for me?" He rasps, eyes fixed on your cunt. On how pretty it looks. How inviting. A soft, ripe peach offered in the heat of summer, and he wants nothing more than to sink his teeth into you. Her. "'ow sweet o'you."
And Price, he thinks, eyes slanting sideways as he glances at the man sliding into his chair. It stands to reason that this whole thing, you on a silver platter for a starving wolf, wouldn't have happened if he hadn't seen the look on Simon's face when you first met him. The hunger.
Simon's not stupid, of course. He knew you were off limits the moment Price put his paw on your nape, squeezing once. Owned, claimed. The intention, the message, clear. Mine.
Don't touch.
And the way you lit up, stammering out something about how good it was to meet him, told him everything he needed to know how your willingness to be shackled to his Captain.
But even so—
He couldn't take his eyes off of you.
(and in his intense cataloguing of everything you did, he couldn't help but notice how you kept touching your neck when Price was dragged away for a conversation leaving you all alone in a room rankled down his spine. almost as if you were reaching up to fix a collar—)
The memory alone makes him shudder.
"All yours, Simon," Price drawls from his perch on the throne. Between two fingers, a cigar sits, unlit. Ghost huffs.
The words are a vicious bite to the want pooling low in his belly. "That so?”
The room seems to shake when he steps inside. Floor creaking ominously under his weight. It makes your mouth drop, heavy breaths spilling out between dull teeth. Chest rising and sinking shallowly with a wild sort of nervousness that flits across the expanse of your cheeks, in the tremble of your lower lip. 
Despite your unease, your legs stay open. Held aloft by the rope, he knows, but also—
A testament to how trained you are. 
He prefers his pets wild. Unpolished. Vicious little things that he gets to bring to heel with a sharp bark and rough hand glued to the back of their skulls, pushing their head into the dirt, to the floor, where it belongs. 
Fine china broken at his feet. 
But you—
Manicured. Groomed to perfection. Save for the harsh breaths and the shake in your joints—both an indication of just how new you are at this. A novice. One slowly being crushed under the leather boot of a man who reeks of smoke and whiskey. 
But knowing his captain and the furious need for control, he imagines you're better than some of the seasoned ones he'd come across in his lifetime. No room for errors.
And certainly no forgiveness for them, either. 
His cock twitches again—a heavy, aching weight against his thigh—and he reaches down to cup the thickness of it, crushing the flesh in his palm to stave off the need burning in his loins. The urgency to sink inside of your pretty little cunt rewiring the part of him that likes to mess his pets up first. Ruin them before he takes them. Fucking them to the point of unconsciousness—and sometimes, beyond it. 
But you—
You've been a phantom taste in the back of his throat for months now. A tease between his teeth. Sinking his jowls into you is the only thing on his mind. 
And when you're offered up so enticingly—
Well. 
Price can't blame him much for how badly he's going to ruin you. 
He reaches out, fingers pressing cruelly into the slim, thumb-sized vibrator Price has locked against your clit. A mindless, incessant torture, he's sure. Pushing you over the edge on a constant, unrelenting loop. 
“Messy girl,” he rasps, the starchy fabric of the mask glueing to his balmy skin. 
The reprimand makes you flinch in shame, but the flutter of your cunt belies the contrition that drapes over your brow in a shallow mimicry of sorrow. He can see why Price latched onto you so quickly, and doesn't bother fighting the stab of envy that brims in his chest. 
“Didn't your old man ever teach you any manners?” He mocks, dry and derisively. Quietly amused by the soft mewl you let out, one that only just eclipses the snort from Price. “Daddy's been slackin’, ‘asn’t he? Let his little girl turn into a messy fuckin’ slag.” 
You try to close your legs to no avail, the rope keeping you spread. In part, he thinks, from shame—blistering, burning, and vibrant when it streaks across your face—but mostly from the slick gush that leaks out of your drenched pussy at his foul words. Trying to hide it from him. To keep him from knowing just how much the brassy roll of his ugly words makes your empty little cunt ache. 
“Look’it you.” He rumbles, enjoying the shiver in your joints. The way your head rolls to the side, nose pressed tight to the skin of your arm. “Messy pussy just achin’ to be fucked.”
He adds more pressure until you choke. The scream lodged in your throat. Your toes curl. He hears the soft pop of your joints when you arch your back like a cat in heat yowling for attending. 
“Want it bad, don't you?” He taunts. “Daddy must’a spoiled you too much—” another scoff from Price. The creak of leather. The clink of ice against glass. “Didn't teach you any manners—”
He wants you to beg. Wants to hear the peal of your voice—rough and ragged and begging him to sink inside you; fuck your little cunt until you can't walk anymore—but that's not what he's here for. Not why Price dragged him up to the room. Gave you to him. 
And with the silk gag in your mouth, he knows he won't get it, anyway. Tied in a pretty bow behind your head. Wet with your spit already. 
Simon's fingers slide down, dragging over the folds of your cunt. You're wet. Soaked. Drenched in a way he's never seen before; folds glistening. Thighs wet. Sticky. He licks his lips. Tastes the brine of his sweat. He wants to eat your pussy. Spread you wide on his tongue and make you beg Price to let Simon make you cum. 
The thought roots in his head. Burrowing deep. He can already hear your sweet voice pleading with his captain—please, please let him make me cum—but he pushes it down when Price makes an impatient noise in the back of his throat. 
He knows why he's here. 
And wonders, then, when he steps back and drops his hands to the button on his trousers, how many times you've been punished like this. The thought is a sour smoulder in the back of his head. An ugly, foul thing unfurled over the soot-stained walls of his skull. 
(he'll ask later. get the names of every man Price let see you like this, and pluck the memory of you right from their skull—)
“So needy,” he drawls, dragging his cock out of his slacks as they fall low on his thighs. “Even after this pussy’s been spoiled so much?”
It makes you keen, and the noise is a searing knife to his guts. He groans with it—low and rough, the noise scraping over the flesh of his throat until it hurts. 
“Gonna have to punish you, ain't I? Needy fuckin' thing—” so he says, but his cock is just as sticky as your thighs, weeping a steady stream of pre-cum that pools in the tangle of hair at the base, dusting over his heavy, fat balls. 
He shuffles closer, and reaches out to your knee, slipping his fingers behind your shin. The squeal of naked flesh against the metal tabletop shouldn't make him throb but it does. Cruel man, he thinks, and drinks in the way you wince. 
He presses his cock against your slit, mouth dropping in a harsh pant when he takes in the hideous sight it makes. Your pussy is covered up by his girth. The tip of his cock bobbing over your belly button, dripping pre-cum into the divot. 
Simon pulls his hips back, letting his cock glide over your silken flesh. The wet squelch it makes when he thrusts forward, cockhead tapping on your belly, has him grunting like an animal. It's obscene, this. The way he can't even see your folds over the wide spread of his cock. Pussy tucked neatly under him. 
He can't even begin to imagine how you'll take the full length of him inside of you when his cock nudges past your belly button when he lets his balls rest on your molten slit. Poor thing. 
He doesn't know if Price stretched you before this. Got you ready for him. But the man makes no move to intervene when Simon pulls back until his head slips down your seam, bracketed between your plush, swollen folds, tight against your entrance. All he has to do is—
Push
And the tip of his cock slips in. 
You make another noise at the sting, and he thinks you might be crying but his eyes are riveted to the spot where you open for him. Pussy so small, so tiny, compared to his cock in a way that's sickening. Garish. But your little cunt drools on him. Rim fluttering like a heartbeat on his glands, pulling him deeper. Enticing him to sink inside. All the way. Until he can feel the hitch of your breath on his cock. 
He leans back to get a better view, the motion forcing another inch inside of you. The noise is slick. Giving as your silken flesh parts around him, eagerly taking him in. But as wet as you are, as pliant, the stretch is unbearable. It chokes the air from his lungs when you tighten up around him—
“Fuckin' hell—” he snaps, his upper lip curling up beneath the mask. Your cunt makes him angry. Suddenly, viciously. The fury drips down his spine, pools at the base of his cock. His hand slips out from between your thighs, roughly grabbing your waist. Holding on tight as he jerks his hips harshly against you. 
You feel good. Perfect. Wrapped snugly around him. A hot, wet embrace. And he huffs at the bitterness that clots in his lungs; the surge of pleasure so blisteringly intense, it nearly makes him gag. Makes him sick. 
Price has this every night. 
The thought alone is a poison. It needles in deep, lashing at him with foul, rabid teeth. Cruelly, he pushes deeper, sinking his cock in another inch, another, another—mindless in this pursuit to tear you apart well before you're ready for it. 
He wants it to burn. To ache. Wants to be the worst fuck you've ever had; cock too big for you to take, but he feeds it to you in full. Gives you all of it. Every inch. Until your stomach churns with every press of his cockhead against your cervix, his glands sliding over that spot inside that makes your knee jerk and your eyes roll. 
Wants you to remember him as a beast. To think of his cock and feel nauseous. 
To sink deep inside of you—brutal and savage—until you can still feel him in your pussy for days. Each step causing a sharp pang in your lower belly. 
It's awful, he knows. Terrible. But he forces himself into you anyway, feeling your flesh split around him. A blunt, unyielding pressure until his balls tap against your ass, pussy spasming around the fat length he punishes you with. He's sure he's deeper inside of you than anything—any man, cheap silicon—has ever dreamed of being. Kissing places in you that nothing has ever touched. Feels it in the nervous flit of your muscles pulsing around him—this foreign thing bludgeoning into uncharted territory, stretching you wide. Almost virginal all over again. It makes him groan. 
Your pleasure is a muted ripple down his spine. The vibrator forcing you into enjoying the sharp sting of your rim pulled taut around the plug of his cock, skin blanching from the strain. He wants to stay just like this—grinding his hips into the backs of your spread thighs, cockhead chiselling into the molten seal of your womb with every gyration until the line between pleasure and pain begins to blur. Until you gag from how badly having your walls battered burns, hurts, but the bloom of pleasure deep inside your groin keeps you in place. Makes you arch your back, wanting more. 
Desperate for it. 
But this isn't what Price wants, is it? 
No—
He voices his impatience with a muffled grunt. Get on with it, Simon is pinched out between the silver of space between his teeth, the butt of a burning cigar keeping his jaw unhinged. The heady, sour-sweet stench of smouldering tobacco, nicotine, staining the words. 
You clench at the sound of Price's voice, pretty pussy drawing all tight around him. Perfectly trained. Sweet thing, he thinks, pulling out of you slowly. Just a few inches. Feeling your skin glue his; the glide of your walls over his shaft sickeningly good, nauseatingly so. He holds it for a moment, staring down at you through the eye holes of his mask, breathing heavily. Sweat drenches his skin. Tacky, hot. The starchy fabric clings to his flesh, peeling away each time he moves his head. 
The exertion of fucking his cock into you shows through the muted pulse of his joints, muscles aching from the strain of pushing forward. 
(Holding himself back.)
You blink at him blearily, eyes misted with tears. A smaller puddle sits on the table near your temples. 
Up close, he can see the full detail of the intricate shibari binding you tight. The sleek pink ribbon weaving over your chest, your breast, stomach—hishi karada, Price said. At the base of your neck is more silk in a mockery of a collar. And he wonders if you miss it, then. The solid weight of leather on your skin. If your hands weren't tied up, he imagines they'd be there. Holding firm. 
Just like the night he first met you. 
The silk rope, the loss of your collar—
“Your dad's a cruel man, ain't he?” He mocks, sliding his fingers over the delicate trim of silk bound tight under your heaving breasts, peppering across your nipple, down the slope. Resting at the base of your throat. The thin slip of fabric is not enough to give you what you need. The pressure, the friction. The sense of being owned. “Didn't even give his little girl a collar.” 
More of that tantalising shame rake over your expression. Tears dribble out in hot drops, spilling down the side of your face. 
He hums, slips this fragility into his back pocket. “Want me to give it to you, little girl?” 
He spits the words out like they're wrong. Awful. Takes in your flinch, the downward twist to your lips, and shoves that, too, into his pocket. 
Simon has no intention of waiting for an answer, for permission—he reels back, hand still splayed wide over your sternum, and pulls his cock out more until only the flare of his glands peaks out. He's soaked—glistening with your slick. So wet that it drips out of your plugged hole, gliding down the cleft of your ass. 
He wonders if you always get like this—
Bites that thought clean through with an angry groan, and pries his fingers out from the back of your knee, dragging them to the end of his mask. Rucking it up over his skin, bunched against the bridge of his nose. 
If the mess of his mouth, chin, the crooked, angular slope of his nose horrifies you at all, you don't let it show. Content to quietly sob on the table, eyes flickering between the thick plug of his cock between your thighs and the Price. 
He hates you, he thinks. And then he spits on your pretty pussy, right over your taut rim. Watches the foamy mess bubble, drip down to the skin behind his mushroomed head. When it pools there, he pulls back until the widened flare of his glands slips free. You whine—a noise of bright hot disgust, humiliation—and he lets it burrow under his skin, trickle down his spine. Then he pushes forward, popping the head back inside of you. 
The spit—his spit, too. 
And he does it again. The same thing. Pulling out, spitting. Feeding it to her. Letting it rub against the slick, wet (wetter now) walls of her cunt. 
Price doesn't say anything about this claim. Schoolboy possession—childish and immature when you're used to fine leather gripping tight around the slope of your neck.
Still. 
He pulls on your proverbial braids until it burns. 
The hum of the vibrator takes some of the sting away when he shoves inside of you again, cockhead bullying into your cervix with an unmatched cruelty. Leaking slick, steady, over your seal. Drooling, thick and viscous, against your walls. Staining you. 
Ruining you.
Each breath is punched out when he bottoms out. Forced from your lungs. Winded. He knows it hurts almost as much as the thick bludgeon of his cock pressing deep, but as he scrapes and claws at the rot concealing over his humanity, morality, he finds nothing inside of him left to care. 
He stops looking. Stops searching. 
Simon fucks into you with vigor instead, laughing mockingly at the lewd, sinful squelch of your cunt. “Think that's the sound of all my spit, birdie? Or is your sloppy little cunt always this fuckin’ messy?”
Each piston makes his pelvis slap into the vibrator; he can feel it through the tangle of coarse hair spooled above his cock. Buzzing incessantly against his skin. The spike of sharp pressure has you yowling beneath him, hips twisting, turning, trying to flee from the brutal onslaught. Pleasure and pain balancing on a knife's edge. 
He holds you there. Dangles you above the precipice just because he can—
A lazy flick of his waist. The savage grind of his hips. The softened bulge of his lower belly tapping against the plastic toy—
And it breaks you. This careless, effortless attention he pays to you has you tightening up around him like a knot, a vice; cunt squeezing, squeezing, before you shatter. Wave against a cliff; you spasm on his cock in a series of shallow, tight throbs pulsing along to the rapid fire of your heartbeat. 
His eyes are locked on your face. Pretty, lachrymal. Tears bleed down your temples, soaking into your hairline. Puddling underneath. 
His own little sea of your miserable pleasure. 
Eyes rolled into the back of your head. Toes curling. Hips jerking, twisting. Trying to run from the ugly, awful way he makes you cum. Makes you gorge yourself on pleasure. Force-feeding you pain with each sloppy, brutal thrust into your sopping, messy cunt—swollen, bruised; battered. And his—
—ice clinks against glass. A clicking swallow follows. The hollow thud of glass on wood. Scraping over the veneer as it's pushed back into place. Tobacco is chewed up by flames, popping and sizzling; smoldering with each inhale as the playwright watches the show he weaved together unfold—
—his. 
The silk around your neck comes loose with each thrash of your head rolling from side to side, shaking with quick, successive no, no, no’s that go unheeded, ignored. Every animalistic rut of his hips makes you change your mind, anyway. Turning those devastating no’s to yeses so eager, your teeth clack with every thrust. 
As it slips, sliding down the sweat-slicked column of your arched throat, he finds a stripe of red. A scab. Right at the knot where your collar would sit. A pretty gem in the middle. Your name, or maybe something that would amuse Price more than the perceived idea of your autonomy—bitch in glinting gold. His name and number etched into the back. 
if found, return to John Price. 
A foldhold, perhaps. Tailor-made for his boot. 
He hunts, Simon knows. Walked in reeking of leather and smoke when they first met and casually mentioned how good he was at Big Game hunting. A threat, then—however thinly veiled and erring on the side of mordant humour it was. But he wonders if Price personally made the collar you mourned the night he swung you into Simon's path. 
Your neck was bare, then. Blemishless. 
A collar too small. Tightened too much. Punishment, he supposes, and feels a sick sense of satisfaction roll down from his nape to the bottom of his spine where it pools in his groin—hot, molten oil—as he wonders just how much convincing it took you to agree to this. To spread your pretty legs for the ugly brute Price dangled you in front of. Who watched you all night from the corner of the room, chest heaving and eyes wide, wild, and furious. Reeking of rot. Want. To let him rut you like an animal while Price watches from the corner of the room—
A bead of sweat follows the phantom trail. 
“Fuck, birdie,” he's rasping, voice uttered wrecked. Mangled in his throat. “So fuckin’ tight f’me, ain't you? Must want me to cum inside this pretty cunt—”
You shiver. Knee jerking. There's a real sense of panic in your eyes when they dart over to Price, silently nursing another glass of scotch. He follows your gaze, catches Price glaring at him with his chin dipped low to his chest, peering out through his lashes. Brow furrowed. A flat line. 
Simon doesn't stop thrusting. Keeps a steady pace despite the anger brimming inside of him as the pleasure grows. Festers. 
Then—
Barely discernible: a nod. 
Shadows fall over his cheeks. He brings the glass back to his mouth with a surly mm between the mouthful. An irrevocable fuckin' get on with it. 
And Simon does.
The look he gives you pure predatory hunger. Victory in the potent stench of charred bones. He lifts his chin, stares down at you—all spread out like a gift to a god—and surges forward with a rabid hunger brimming in his guts. Unquenchable. Horrific. 
—wants you to eat you alive. Consume you whole. Leave nothing for Price to pick at, to mourn over,
settles instead for ruining your pussy. For fucking you raw. Cumming deep inside of your quivering cunt even when he knows you don't want that. Are silently begging Price to reconsider. To get this ugly fucking mutt off of you—
It churns his guts. Makes him viciously excited over the image that brims in the back of his head, tears raining down your cheeks as you bring a shaky hand to your aching, swollen cunt, feeling the thick, viscous glob of his cum leaking out.
Or before that, when you have to lay there and take it. Feeling his cock throbbing, pulsing as it spits cum inside of you. When he pulls out, and a milky trail follows, dribbling down between your cheeks. At his mercy the whole time, too, because Price won't get up right away to untie you. You'll have to lay there in his filth, feeling it ooze out of you—
He wants it. Badly. Feels it scorching his hindbrain, burning him up from the inside out. 
Later, he thinks, he'll fuck you with more finesse. Make you cum on his fingers—stuff them inside of your sore, aching cunt to the last knuckle; give you three of them to squeeze around, to cling to, and watch the ink on his bruised, scabbed skin disappear inside of you over and over again, pulling them out all slick, pearlescent with a mix of his cum and yours. On his tongue, too. Keep you in this pretty frogtie, unable to push him off—or pull him closer. Forced to take it. To let him lap at your pussy until he quenches this uneasy hunger festering inside of his stomach, growing bolder, greedier at the sight of you splayed out like this, exhausted already even though he's only just begun. 
Fuck you again, too, just because he can. 
all yours for a night, Price had said, sealing your fate with a sharp, decisive nod. 
He plans on making the most of the twelve hours until sunrise that he has. 
This, then, the appetizer—
It curls over his shoulders, tar-stained fingers digging into the tight coil of his muscles, easing the tension in increments. Soothing out the fear that still clings to him of missing out. Still, very much, that hungry little mutt on the side of the street, peering into the bakery at the family's milling about, smiling happily. Content to ignore the brat in rags glaring at them from an alcove with bruises on his chin, and a black split on his lip. Diving for scraps because the alternative is going to bed with an empty stomach in a house that reeks of flat beer and stale piss. 
There's nothing to miss out on here, it reasons, when he has you all night. All his. 
“Beg me,” he huffs, sniffing through the balmy, damp mask when it slips down his crooked nose. “Beg me not to cum inside you.”
All you can do is make a small, keening oomph behind the loose gag, words muffled by wet silk. His head rolls back, eyes narrowing down at you in mocking delight—catlike, leonine, in the dwindling glimmer of sunlight spilling through the crack in the curtains. 
“C’mon,” he taunts, rolls his hips into you just to hear the loud, wet squelch of your pussy taking the full, fat length of his cock. Lets the noise box through his ears in a vicious, heavy punch. “Or I'll cum inside you—”
He's already there. Edging toward the precipice. 
Simon grabs the tops of your thighs, digging his fingers into your skin, and pulls you closer to the edge of the table until your ass lifts. It opens you up wider for him, knees notched wide, nearly level with your ears. The new position lets him push in deeper, fucking you in full now. Balls slapping against your ass with every brutal stroke. 
He leans down, knee lifting to the table as he climbs on before dropping the full heft of his weight onto you. Forearm braced above your head, the other catching the column of your bare, scratched neck in the wide spread of his palm. 
The size difference before was intoxicating. A rush that pooled in the back of his head before rocketing down to his spine, filling his cock, but this—your knees bracketing around his waist, spread so wide they're forced down flat to the table below in a split that lets his cock sink in deeper, head tucked against his collarbone, swallowed whole beneath him, is his undoing. 
Arched over you like a beast, he grunts. Ruts into your sopping cunt and feels the whines that spill from your throat at the rough way he batters into you. 
The softness of his lower belly grazes the vibrator humming on your clit. The pressure makes your eyes widen, and roll into the back of your head. Neck trapped in his hold as you thrash beneath him, sobbing in earnest. In dismay. 
He's sure it hurts. The pleasure careening into overstimulation—the kind that burns, bellows too much, no more. He huffs out a derisive snort, and eats your misery from your parted lips, dipping his head down to catch the seam of your mouth in a mockery of a kiss. The silk wrapped around your head, tucked neatly into the corners of your mouth, keeps it from being anything more than a messy smear of his scarred, torn lips and your muffled gasps. The band prevents him from really tasting you, and he makes do with curling his tongue over your teeth, catching the drool running down your chin. 
It's gross. Messy. He slurps you up, and hums in pleasure when he tastes the brine of your tears. 
“Gonna cum,” he grunts into the silk before catching it between his crooked teeth, nibbling on the wet hem, sucking on your spit soaked into the fabric. 
Your pussy spasms around him. Eager, he thinks—pulsing like a heartbeat and starving for it. It blooms under his skin, burning hot like a fever. His tongue slips under your gag. Eyes glued to yours, listed in quiet, merciless delight when you grimace as he slides it along yours, nearly gagging you on it. 
It's almost sweet. A pastiche of loving making—as close to the real thing as he's ever come. The thought is a bludgeon to his head, making his ears ring—
And he runs from it. Rears back from the sloppy kiss, eyes creasing, brow furrowing, as you stare up at him with wet, glossy eyes, rheumy with tears. Silently pleading for something he can't discern. He feels that trail of anger coiling in his guts again, sitting low in his belly as his hips stutter to a slow, softer roll. 
His finger lifts, settles on the corner of your unhinged jaw, holding your head steady. There are lines, he thinks. Walls, divides. Protective armour—
And some shouldn't be crossed. 
Simon spits on your gag. Squeezes the huff of disgust from your throat when he feels your chest expand with it. Bullies himself closer, smothering you under his weight. Owned, then. Claimed. 
You can't close your mouth around the gag, or fingers digging into the muscle of your jaw. He keeps you like that, degraded. Dehumanised. A vessel for him to use as he likes—
Nothing more, nothing less. 
Sinks into your bruised cunt again, hips slapping meanly into yours in a way he knows must ache. Sets a choppy, deep pace; humps your pussy and grinds the weeping, swollen head of his cock into your battered cervix. Loses himself in the messy, plugging rolls of his hips; the wet, tight slide of your skin—flushed and clenching around the thick of himself he feeds to you, over and over again. Mindless in the pursuit to ruin you further. Stain you with his cum—
The problem is:
You feel like heaven. Pussy wrapped tight around him. Silken walls hugging his aching cock until it feels like he's melting into the hot, wet squeeze of it. So good it hums inside his head like a purr, rattles his thoughts around until the ugly, bitter anger is turned inside out. Flipped. 
He thinks about lines again as his sticky, wet balls glue to the slick skin of your ass, peeling off in a way that has pleasure peppering along his spine, spooling in his lower back. He did that, caused it. Made you so fucking wet that his knees slide in the messy spill of it leaking all over the table. The loud squelch of him slamming into your cunt echoes in the room—shrill and bone-melting. Ego-feeding. Enough to gorge his pride on it until its belly threatens to burst at the seams. Overfull. 
Simon grunts. His face is soaked. The damp fabric of his mask is too drenched to even mop it up, sticking to his skin as sweat rains down from his shorn hairline, misting over his eyes. His upper lip. The dip of his chin. He's more water than man. Liquid. Melting into you. 
The heat is unbearable. “Gonna cum in this pussy,” he snarls, and it sounds like a threat. Is one. He's going to burst inside of you, molten and thick. Been a while, he thinks, and feels his balls draw up. Tightening in a promise as he fucks himself into a syrupy stupor above you. 
The inside of his ears are wet, and he thinks it might be his fucking brain leaking out—
The tight coil of his body snaps before he does, giving out in a heavy groan. He catches himself before he crushes you beneath him, still mindlessly thrusting into your cunt, cock pulsing, throbbing. Growing thicker, thicker, as he heaves into your temple, breathing in the pine scent of your skin. Loam, sea. Sweat. You smell like Price beneath it all—leather and smoke; scotch and wood—and his lips curl into a vicious snarl, teeth bared at the man in the corner, silent observer to this blasphemous confessional where he spills his guts inside of you, and you eat them up like they're made of gold dust. 
It rushes him. A kick to his soft stomach, a boot crushing his ribs. The force of it hurts when it hits, surging up from the base of his spine, too fast for him to brace for. Tensing, coiling. The pressure knocks the air from his lungs, makes his hips stutter. Joints whining, twinging with pain. 
He moans low and brassy, mangled deep in the rot of his chest, and cums deep inside of you. Sloppy, mindlessly rutting into the spread bracket of your thighs as pleasure burns across the back of his neck, his spine. His hips roll, shaking. Melting as he spills, spits thick globs of cum out, cockhead bullied tight against your plug. 
All you can do is heave beneath him, whining at the molten spend he pours into you. Poor fuckin’ thing—
His lips are sticky, slick with sweat. He rubs them against the tacky skin of your temple, your cheekbone, babbling nonsense out on a purr—
Breedin’ this tight little pussy right in front of your old man, birdie. Got ‘im watchin’ his little girl take my thick fuckin’ load inside o’her. Fuckin’ hell—
—things that leak out between the cracks in the armour. The thick veneer. Made worse, his personal hell, when he feels your hips bump into his, taking his cock deeper inside as you squirm under the heavy weight of him. With your thigh flexing, squeezing his hip, it almost feels like you want more. All of him. For him to crawl deep inside of you, cocooned in the bracket of your ribs—
“Needy fuckin’ thing,” he rasps, words slurring. Eliding into mush. Nonsense he'll come to crush between his teeth later when he buries himself back inside of you over and over again, feeding blood to this vicious seedling inside of him. 
Through the pounding in his head, your gasping little hitches in his ear, the undeniable silence from Price weighs on him even as the aftershocks of his release mute the noise in his head. A dense, hazy fog clouding over all thoughts. 
It doesn't feel angry. Jealous. If anything it reeks of victory—
He grasps through the blanket, the murk, with lazy hands until he finds what he's looking for, and—
Oh. 
Right. 
(“Got a proposition for you, Simon,” the man says, and Simon snorts. 
He reeks of the same brand of cheap cigarettes as always—stale smoke, day old tobacco; acrid and unpleasant. It makes his skin itch. 
“an’ I told you already, Price. I ain't interested in a team—”
“Not a team, Simon.” The look he levels him with is nothing short of malicious. Dangerous. “Got something else in mind—”)
Then through the door was you. Pretty as a picture—
He stares down at you now. The base of his cock is soaked with your slick, flesh throbbing, pulsing, as he cums inside of you. 
It's this—you, crying over the feeling of him spilling so deeply inside of you while your old man watches from the sidelines, unable to do anything but sit there as Simon fills his baby girl up—that he wanted. Wants. Needs, he thinks, more than the stale, humid air he breathes. A place of his own. Home. Even if it's made of paper mache, carved inside of someone else, someone who already has a collar. A brand—
But that's the point, isn't it?
A sick feeling curls over his shoulders as he thumbs the slim vibrator off of your clit, staring down at the swollen nub at the apex of your mound. Sore and sensitive and flushed bright. Bruised like an apple. Abused for hours. Poor thing, he thinks, even as he rubs the flat of his finger over it. 
His cum seeps out around the softening plug of his cock. But it's still thicker than anything you'd ever taken before, he's sure. Sick with the deep sense of satisfaction that rolls over him at the thought. 
It's worth it, then, even as the dawning realisation trickles over him like hot oil—
“What d’you like, Simon?”
A pretty bird in pale pink chiffon. Too good for the likes of him. Afraid of him, too. Cowerin’. Cryin’ somethin’ awful when he sinks his ugly, fat prick into them—
Price hummed. Curled his index finger over the top of his cigar, tapped the thick wrap twice with the tip of it, and then brought it to his lips. A flash of teeth beneath his beard—nicotine-stained; crooked in the low light—before they sunk into the butt. 
There was something measured in his stare. Predatory. 
Victorious. 
And—
He gets it. You were a dangling lure in the deep, dark of the abyssal layer. A glimmer of light in thick murk. Iridescent. Dazzling. He was always meant to sink his teeth into you, wasn't he? Always meant to take a bite—
hook. line—
—sinker. 
Or—
It would be if the fish Price caught wasn't a leviathan. 
—in the scorching trail the oil leaves behind, something bestial, primordial, inside of his cocks its head in consideration. he can make a feast from this, it says; and so, he does—
“Need my help, Price?” Simon drawls, arms crossing over his chest as he stares down at him, quietly amused, and John feels the pulse between his temples starting up again the same way it had all those years back when he bumped into the man with you on his arm. 
He grunts. “Sendin’ you to Mexico.”
“Tha’ so? I might be busy.”
He sucks in a deep breath, reaches for his cigar. The itch claws behind his eyes, in his gums. There's a headache, too. One he knows won't be soothed over with the numbing bliss of nicotine or a shot of scotch. Not when he'll have to slink home afterwards, this massive behemoth nipping at his heel, and deal with the aftermath of what happens whenever he sets Simon loose on you:
an icepack pressed tight against your aching cunt, a glare fixed on your face as he dotes on you after you made him clean up the absolute mess Simon left behind with his fingers and tongue—
“never again,” you'll hiss, wincing with each pull of his knuckles on your sore, bruised walls. “I mean it—”
(you always say that but the look in your eye whenever he pulls out the silk—the new assortment that Simon bought for you himself—tells him otherwise—)
He presses the heel of his palm into the crease between his eye and bone, rubbing until he sees phosphenes spark behind his eyelids. 
“She'll be in silk,” he grouses, sucking his teeth in irritation. “And you'll be on fuckin’ plane to Mexico the next morning, Riley. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal, sir,” he draws lazily with a half-hearted shrug, but Price can see the mutt inside of him panting with glee. He pretends to huff. Then: “I want her in white this time.”
The fuckin' prick.
—Price’s gamble of using you to lure the big, bad dog in works. but maybe a little too well. because now his sergeant expects one every time he's sent on a mission. and they send him out a lot. 
—he now has a key to his captain's house. lets himself in whenever he wants. finds you exactly how he asked for it. usually tied up in silk, crying, and struggling to get away when he stalks inside the room. on your knees, begging him so sweetly not to fuck your throat too hard. you have work tomorrow. or fighting him off as best as you can until he pins you down, works his cock inside of you. 
—in full view of the cameras, of course. non-negotiable. Price gets to see everything his brutish sergeant does to his pretty bird. everything. 
—Simon is the one who keeps you company when Price is sent off to work with the CIA. keeps you stuffed full of his cock in the bed you share with Price, his little girl sobbing into the pillow that reeks of smoke and leather and sex as Simon forces every inch of his stupid fat cock inside you
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harknessxo · 2 months ago
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I’ve Missed You
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Paring: Dark!Agatha Harkness x reader
Summary: You and Agatha had a twisted history. She had kidnapped you into Wanda’s distorted reality to make you into her perfect wife. She had you under a spell until Wanda freed you. Wanda promised you Agatha would never hurt you again and helped you find a new home where Agatha wouldn’t be able to find you. You had your little house in the middle of nowhere, where you were safe…or so you thought. (This is also based on the one clip of Rio pinning Agatha to the wall.)
Warnings; kidnapping, magical manipulation, manipulation, metal abuse, fingering, strap on use (r receiving), mommy kink.
Word Count: 1.9k
A/n: All these Agatha All Along trailers and teaser have motivated me to write after four months. I am so ecstatic for it to come out already! I have waited two years for this! 😭
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You and Agatha had a twisted history. She had kidnapped you into Wanda’s distorted reality to make you into her perfect wife. She had you under a spell until Wanda freed you. You told her everything about Agatha’s sick plan and Wanda then was able to trick Agatha and put her under spell, trapping her in Westview. Wanda promised you Agatha would never hurt you again and helped you find a new home where Agatha wouldn’t be able to find you. She even casted runes around the house.
A couple months after those events you found out about Wanda’s death. You grieved her death little, she was the closest thing you had to a friend ever since Agatha stripped you from your friends and family, but most of all you felt fear. Fear that Agatha would come out of the spell and go looking for you especially because Wanda’s runes had disappeared.
You were paranoid for months until you had confirmation that she was still in Westview under the spell. You spent the next three years in hiding. You had your little house in the middle of nowhere, where you were safe…or so you thought.
It was around mid day when you found yourself in the kitchen making some coffee. You were just wearing a robe and your hair was laying wild over your shoulders. As you were pouring the milk into your coffee, you heard a noise outside. You frowned and walked over to the window and saw nothing. As you were about to get back to your coffee, you heard it again. You grabbed a knife and walked over to the front door. Before you could even open it, the door burst over and someone pinned you against the wall, making you drop the knife.
“I’ve missed you, sweetheart.” That voice…you hadn’t heard it in so long, it made your skin crawl.
“A-agatha?” your voice trembled as you said her name. You looked into her eyes, she looked the same, she hadn’t aged a day yet she looked older in a way. Maybe it was the dark circles that laid under her eyes. She gave you a sinister smile moving her hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear.
“You look as beautiful as the day you left me.”
“How did you free yourself? And how did you find me-”
“I had some help,” she simply said, moving her hand to your neck and squeezing lightly, “I didn’t appreciate you betraying me and running away. Did you really think you could get away from me?” she pouted mockingly.
“Agatha please-” you wrapped your hand around her wrist.
“Say that again, you know how much I love to hear you beg.”
“P-please don’t hurt m-me…” your voice cracked. You were terrified of this woman’s power, of what she could do. Agatha dismissed your pleas and started kissing down your neck, surprisingly gentle.
“God, I missed you so much,” her hand sneaked underneath your robe to grip onto your waist, “Wanda did quite the number on me but now she’s not here to save you,” she whispered harshly into your ear and a tear silently ran down your cheek.
“Shh, baby, there's no need to cry,” she wiped the tear away, “I promise to take my time with you.” She started dragging you to your bedroom and you just let her, you knew better than to fight back. She pushed you on your bed and started undressing. Even if she was manipulative she was still very attractive. Something you would never admit. When she was done, she crawled on top of you, still leaving your robe on.
“Look at me,” she said when you looked everywhere but her. You just wanted this to be over with. “I said look at me,” she demanded, cupping your face, making you look at her. Usually when you looked into her eyes, all you saw was lust and possessiveness but this time, there was something different.
“Tell me you missed me, Y/n. Tell me you missed my touch.” she pleaded. This was very out of character for her. She never showed vulnerability. Ever. Yet, here she was asking you if you missed her as if her life depended on it.
“I…” she started to kiss your neck again, nipping at it, “I missed you too,” you finally said. It wasn’t a complete lie, a small part of you did miss her. She did kidnap you but she still took care of you and gave you everything you had ever wanted.
“Good girl~” she finally started to untie your robe.
“Aggie-” you tried to protest, gripping into her wrist but she pinned your hand above your head with her magical binds.
“Shh, just relax,” she took off your robe, leaving you completely bare, “I’m going to take care of you.”
“All you do is h-hurt me…”
“That’s because you disobeyed me. I had to discipline you,” she said, manipulating you into thinking it was your fault, “If only you just did as you were told, I wouldn't have had to hurt you bunny…” she softly ran her nails down your waist and hips, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. You remained quiet, not saying a word as her fingers moved closer to your core.
“I can’t wait to have you all to myself again,” she finally dipped her fingers into your wetness, chuckling at the fact that you were absolutely soaked for her. She started to slowly circle your clit, her breath hot against your ear.
“You were always so ready for me, baby. Your body still remembers me.” You whimpered when the pleasure caught up to you. You hadn’t touched yourself for so long. Your thoughts undoubtedly went to Agatha every time you tried so you gave up trying to find relief.
She chuckled at your reaction, clearly amused by your whimpers. She started to move her fingers faster, applying more pressure to your clit.
“I bet you haven’t touched yourself since you left me. You were too afraid to think about me, weren’t you?”
“…yes.” You replied, biting your lip when she sped up her movements.
“That’s what I thought. You knew that no one could make you feel as good as I do. No one can satisfy you like I can,” she smiled and leaned down to suck on your neck, leaving a dark spot.
“N-no one can…” You said, your brain turning into mush as she slipped her fingers inside you.
“I’m the only one who knows you better than you know yourself. You can barely take care of yourself, baby. You need me.” Agatha was doing what she knew best, manipulating you. She could put you under her spell again but she wanted you to willingly submit to her. She could feel your body starting to tense up as she continued to work her fingers inside you. She moved her lips to your jaw, placing gentle kisses along the way.
“You’re so close, aren’t you baby? Do you remember the rules?”
“Mhmm,” you hummed in response, tugging at the binds slightly.
“What do you say then?” she slowed down her movements, loving to see you so desperate for her touch.
“Can I cum please?”
“Beg me, baby. I want to hear you beg for me.”
“Please mommy? I promise to be a good girl!” And there it was. She finally had you exactly where she wanted you. She smirked at your words, her eyes darkened with lust.
“That’s my good girl. You always know how to please me. Cum for me, baby. Cum for mommy.” She freed your hands and you clung to her as you rode your high, moving your hips against her hand. She spoke sweet nothings into your ear, encouraging you before finally pulling her fingers out and kissing your forehead. You thought it was over until you felt something poking your entrance again.
“Mommy?” You mumbled again, trying to clench your thighs together. She smiled and gently caressed your face.
“I’m not done with you yet, baby. You still have a lot to make up for~”
“No more-” you tried to push her away but she didn’t budge. She grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her.
“Don’t tell me no, darling. You’re going to be a good girl and take whatever I give you. Understood? Don’t you want mommy to feel good too?” She started rubbing the tip of her enchanted strap against your pussy lips. She’d fucked you with the strap many times and she could feel everything which is why it was her favorite toy to use on you.
“But I’m too sensitive.” You whined.
“You can handle it, baby,” she chuckled and slowly pushed the tip of the strap inside you, “You’ve done it before…” she started to move her hips, pushing the strap deeper inside you. The strap slipped right in, your juices making it quite easy.
“Fuck, baby. You still feel so fucking tight. You’re taking me so well. You’re such a good girl~” Agatha groaned. Your pained whimpers soon turned into pleasurable moans and the knot in your stomach started to build up again. She continued to thrust into you, her movements becoming more erratic as she felt her own pleasure building up. She leaned down and whispered in your ear.
“That’s it, baby. Keep making those pretty sounds for me. I want to hear you scream my name when you cum.”
“A-Aggie-“ You dug your nails onto her back. She let out a low growl, her grip on your hips tightening.
“Say it again, baby. Say my name again.”
“Agatha!” You came again, your pussy pulsing around her strap as your legs started to shake. Agatha let out a moan as she felt you cum around her strap, her own orgasm washing over her. She continued to thrust into you a few more times before pulling out and collapsing on top of you.
“That’s my good girl. You did so well, baby,” she started petting your hair as if you were a pet. She pulled you closer, holding you in her arms. She ran her fingers through your hair, her voice soft.
“You’re mine and no one else’s. You’re going to be a good girl and obey me, understand? You don’t want mommy to have to hurt for not listening, do you?” You frantically shook your head, burning your face in her neck. She gripped your hair and pulled your head back, forcing you to look at her.
“I said, do you understand? You will do as I say. You will obey me. You are mine to control and use as I please. Don’t make me punish you, baby.”
“I u-understand…” your eyes watered a bit, now you were really trapped. She smiled and released your hair, her hand gently stroking your cheek.
“Good girl. I knew you would see things my way. You’re so much more compliant when your brain is turned into mush, isn’t that right? Maybe I’ll have to fuck you more often so you don’t fight me,” she kissed your forehead and pulled you closer to her, wrapping her arms around you possessively. Agatha held you tightly, enjoying the feeling of having you in her arms again. She ran her fingers through your hair, gently massaging your scalp. She could see the gears turning in your head and spoke up again.
“Don’t worry, baby. You’ll get used to it. You’ll learn to love being mine again. And I’ll take good care of you, I promise. You won’t want anything as long as you’re with me…”
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jyoongim · 10 months ago
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THE WAY U WRITE THE OLD RED DEMON MAN IS JUST SO NEKEKDKEOWB
Might I just add onto the seemingly continuous alastor requests. I'd love to see Alastor x Reader where reader is in heat and Al finds it pathetic but takes pity on them and helps anyway bc like poor thing can't even get their own instincts in control they're obviously hopeless
warnings: 18+!!!NSFW
You thought when you died you would be rid of hormones.
Periods were a pain while living, but this is was worst.
When you were alive, your periods plagued you with mood swings, random cravings, and pain.
Now that you were dead, you didn’t experience the dreadful red flood and raging mood swings; no. Now all you felt was unbelievably horny and needy.
And you hated it.
You usually carried yourself with confidence and elegance.
You usually liked to help around the hotel and were generally friendly with everyone.
You grimaced as you woke up to feel just how drenched your panties were. I really need to stock up on new underwear you thought as you tossed the ruined panties into the hamper.
You usually spent your heats alone and could hide in a hole until you felt normal again. You usually could control yourself well enough til you had enough free time to ease the tension between your legs.
Or until you found a poor sinner.
Weeeeellll that was hard when you lived in a hotel with a ton of shit to do. You really didn’t want to hear Angel’s jabs as you dragged some unfortunate soul to endear your sex rage.
You sighed, hopefully you could get through the next few days without embarrassing yourself completely.
So far so good you thought as you went about your day doing whatever activity Charlie had you do with the group.
Every touch and scent didn’t send your cunt into a tingling frenzy; yes you had to change your panties a few times but nothing crazy.
That was until you were around Alastor.
Your body practically buzzed whenever the tall red demon was in your vicinity.
You first chalked it up to that it was because you did found him attractive and simply thought it would go away.
But your cunt begged a differ.
You squirmed a bit on the couch as Alastor took a seat beside you, clenching your thighs to ease the uncomfortable throbbing.
It didn’t help that he smelled amazing.
Alastor smelled like evergreens how y’all ever smelled Christmas pine??? That shit is delicious!!!!
And you didn’t realized you had took a deep inhale of him until he turned to you
”Is everything alright my dear?” He asked, eyebrows raised.
fuck how were you going to tell him you wanted to bury your nose into his neck and just SNIFF? 
“O-oh I’m f-fine…i-its just you smelled nice?” You wanted to facepalm.
He blinked at you before letting out a laugh “OOooh why thank you my dear” that shit eating grin widened, voice dropping a slight octave“I must smell very enticing if you’re sniffing at me” his eyes narrowed slightly.
A shiver ran through your body and you swear you were leaking through onto the couch. You wanted to die of embarrassment.
“I-I just never noticed before that’s all” You said shrugging, trying to ignore the fact that his very voice was affecting you.
Charlie had ended whatever the hell you were doing and you quickly made your way to your room, causing some confusion.
You were usually a social butterfly with the gang. You never not chat away with Angel as he told the wild shit he did on set.
“Has got to be that time of the month” Angel commented as you almost sprinted out the room. Charlie and Vaggie gave confused looks ”what?” He sighed “You know…” nope not a clue.
”She was a human remember? Every so often her pussy basically shreds itself to bits”
Charlie gasped “So she’s hurt? Shouldn’t we do something?” Angel laughed,shaking his head “Nah we can’t help. But she'll be fine. Just give her a few days and she'll be normal again”
Alastor was in the background listening, the smile on his face sharpened, you weren’t hurt or bleeding, but there was definitely something that could be done.
You snarled as your vibrator died and tossed it. You groaned as your clit continued to throb. You had thought four orgasms would have did the trick but nope you still had the irritating itch.
You didn’t own a dildo because it was pointless.
it wasn’t the real thing.
You wanted to cry. This was your first heat while you’ve been at the hotel and you didn’t just want to drag a stranger here.
You had more control than that.
At least that’s what you thought.
You had locked yourself in your room as you tore your room to bits. The walls were shredded, pillows and sheets drenched in slick and your poor toy was in pieces.
Panting, you curled in a corner and tugged at your hair, squeezing your eyes tight as tears began to pool in your eyes.
You hated this.
 You hated how it felt like you didn’t even feel like yourself. 
Hated that you couldn’t even control your own damn bodily function.
Hated how your body desperately wanted to be filled.
You would give anything to make this horrid feat of yours go away.
“I would have never thought to see you in such a state my dear”
You froze at the voice and jerked your head to the source.
Alastor.
He was standing at the entrance of your bedroom, a smirk on his face as he took in the state of your room.
”I must say, it. Is rather entertaining to see your lack of control” he said as he approached your curled form.
He crouched down, feigning a concerned look before a clawed hand seized your hair and wrenched your face til your noses were bumping against each other.
”did you think I couldn’t smell you?” He growled “You smell just like a bitch in heat”
You whimpered as his lips ghosted over yours “I-I’m sorry”
His scent was surrounding you. It was a drug. Assaulting your every nerve with each breath you took.
He smelled so good 
please
”Please” you whispered as your cunt buzzed, tingling from his clos proximity and in hopes he would have mercy on you.
Alastor sucked his teeth at you. What a pitiful thing you were…
With a deep breathe, he stood and walked over to your ruined bed and sat. You watched as he sat his mic down and removed his coat. Yanking at his tie, he unbuttoned his shirt and looked over at you with narrowed eyes “Well? Do you want to continue to ruin your furnishings or do you wish to satisfy that brazen desire of yours?”
He widened his legs and your eyes honed in on how he unbuckled his pants.
Your throat tightened and you found yourself crawling over to him, no regard that you were naked.
Kneeling between his legs, your hands soothed up his thighs as your rubbed your head against his crotch.
Alastor lifted your chin for your eyes to meet his. Your eyes were blown out and you winced as his grip tightened.
”I pity you my dear, reduced to wanton whore, but don’t fret…Ill help you through your heat” a thumb ran over your pouty lip.
Your cunt clenched around nothing at his words.
You damn near drooled as he adjusted himself to pull his cock free from its restraints.
It was big, in both length and girth. It slapped against your face, causing you to hum at the weight of it.
You nuzzled it, nose gliding along his length before softly pressing kissed along it. When you came to his mushroom tip, you didn’t hesitate to suck at it. Alastor sighed as you gave the head of his cock kitten licks.
Head clouded with desire, you slowly bobbed your head along his length, taking him whole as you gagged once you reached the hilt.
You eased him out your throat and with a sickening pop, you admired as his spit-covered cock shined. You opted to jerk him off slowly as you buried your nose in his ball, inhaling his scent.
Alastor’s hand found your hair and guided you away from his cock, bringing you to climb up his body, until your smoldering heat was rubbing against his cock as he pressed kisses to your shoulder and neck. A gasp tore from your throat as he nipped at your jaw.
”On fours my dear”
Clumsily, you scrambled to follow his instruction. You must not have been to his liking because he pressed your head til your cheek was flat to the bed, back in a deep low arch, thighs pressed to your stomach and spreaded wide with your ass and cunt exposed to the air. 
You would have blushed in embarrassment if you weren’t so turned on.
A hand glided down your back, causing you to shiver and then jolt as a harsh slap was planted on your ass, before it soothed over the burning cheek.
Alastor kneaded your ass before sliding his fingers down to your cunt.
Your slit was swollen and your clit, puffy with need. 
You were dripping.
He dipped a finger inside you, testing how wet you were.
Soppy. 
He added a second, your cunt greedily welcomed his fingers with ease, giving into resistance.
He chuckled “What a greedy cunt, sucking in my fingers like a cock”
You whined when he took his fingers out, already missing the feel of something inside you.
Alastor took his cock and rubbed it against your cunt, coating himself in your slick.
”I am going to fuck you to your little sinful heart desires and you are going to be grateful of everything I give you. You are going to take every bit of my cum until it spills from this cunt and then again and again until I have bred you so thoroughly. Do you understand slut?”
You were breathing heavily, trembling in excitement.
With a single, sharp thrust he filled your cunt, earning a soft cry from you.
”Do you understand?”he hissed through clenched teeth.
”Y-Yes A-Alastor”. you whimpered, eyes clenched shut in pleasure.
”Good girl”
He drew back and thrusted into you again
And again
And again
He had set a slow, but rough pace. Thrusting his cock deep into the soft warmth of your cunt with each drag.
Soft moans filled the air as he buried his cock inside you.
It felt so good. 
He reached depths your finger couldn’t quite reach.
And it was amazing.
”A-Ala-stor Aah! Aaah! Hah!” You pushed your hips against his, mewling loudly as he grinned his cock into you.
”Youre pathetic ” He laughed, eyes watching his cock disappeared inside you, giving you a hard thrust at his words.
”Nothing but pathetic slut who can’t control their own body”
His grip on your hips pulled you flushed against him, making you take him til his balls was nestled against your slit.
”You probably would have spreaded your legs for any poor sinner, just wanting to be fucked dumb” Your body rippled as his thrusts got harder.
Your cunt only got wetter.
He noticed as he seemed to sink even deeper into you, as if your cunt loosened to welcome him
”oh? I bet you would have liked that wouldn’t you? So out of sorts with need that you would have just anyone bred this cunt”
He growled at the squelching noises from your cunt, you shook your head in denial.
No. No you wouldn’t haven’t done something like that.
”N-no I-I wouldn’t-” You cried out as his finger ghosted over your swollen clit.
”You would have been happy to bend over and offer your cunt to anyone, as long as you had a cock fill you” Alastor continued before a cruel, deep laugh erupted from him
”But instead you sought me out. I had no intention in satisfying you, but what a gentleman would i had been if I ignored a lady in need?” You felt him lean over, hips never missing a beat as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder.
”Oooh how fortunate you are my dear”
You were suddenly flipped onto your back. Hair sprawled around you like a halo, your chest heaving as he pushed your knees to your chin. 
Your lidded eyes watching as he slide his cock between your pussy lips, bumping your clit. He grabbed your wrists, using them as leverage as he thrusted back into you, the new angle making your throw your head back with a broken cry
”FuuuuuUccckk Ah Ah AH!” His hips dug into the underside of your ass as he pounded your cunt.
Alastor hadn’t lost composure the entire time he fucked you.
He watched as you fell apart, your hips wiggling to accommodate to his harsh administrations.
Your cunt took him so good. A white, creamy ring formed at his base as he scraped against that sponges nerve inside you.
You welcomed him gratefully. Letting him wrench pleasurable sounds from your pretty lips.
Pushing your raised legs apart, he lowered his weight on you as he slammed his lips on yours, swallowing your moans. Your tongues danced as he rocked into your body.
The sounds of him ruining your cunt pushed him to fulfill your primal desire.
You felt that familiar blaze of heat take over your body as Alastor fucked short rapid thrusts into you.
Every brush of his abdomen against your clit had your cunt going haywire.
You were going to cum.
Alastor was going to make you cum.
You moaned at the thought
You were gonna cum on his cock
And he was gonna breed you
Breed your soppy cunt
and you were going to let him
”please….” You whined into his mouth
Fuck the very thought had your body buzzing.
”please what?” he purred
Your head was reeling, foggy with the need to be filled.
A hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing
“What are you begging me for slut? Hmm?” His strokes were hitting harder and deeper.
”You want me to breed your cunt? You want to me to fill you up so good that all you’ll ever think is how my cum belongs inside you? What do the little slut want?”
Yes you wanted all of it.
You wanted him to fuck you so good, you wouldn’t even think of wanting another cock from his.
You wanted him to fill your cunt to the brim and then fuck it back inside.
You wanted him to breed you like the little slut you were.
To breed you til he had his fill.
Your instincts had practically took over, fuck sanity.
”Mhmm! I want it. I want you to Ah! I want you to fill me with your cum! Please please breed me Alastor” You whined, feeling your belly clench as your orgasm hung over you, promising sweet relief.
The hand around your throat, tightened causing you to gasp as he spoke into your ear, voice deep and purring
”Youre gonna make yourself cum on my cock slut”
your hand flew to your clit to flick fast circles on the bud.
Alastor’s thrusts quickened, growls pouring from his lips
”Who’s a filthy little slut?”
”M-Me”
”Whos a pathetic slut that’s gonna take my cum?”
”Me!”
”Fucking slut gonna let be breed her dumb”
A sob tore from you as your orgasm washed over you, he fucked you as you milked him, hips angled to thrusts so deep you’re sure your cunt had molded into the shape of his cock
”hah hah aaah fuuucckk fuck fuck Al-Alastor!”
You saw white as your mouth opened in a silent scream only for him to swallow the whine in your throat.
”That’s it you pathetic slut take it. Take my cum. That’s a good girl. Let me breed this sweet cunt cher” your hips raised as he sunk into you and with a deep groan, he cummed into your spasming cunt, making sure to thrust deep enough he hit your cervix as he painted your walls white.
Whether conscious or by instinct, you gave him a ditzy smile, eyes glazed over as you slowly rubbed your clit, whimpering. Holding eye contact with him, a soft pout graced your lips
“Again”
You truly were a pathetic, needy little thing.
But don’t worry pretty Doe, Alastor’s going to make sure you
satisfied and stuffed to your heart’s content
 It was going to be very interesting for the next 36 hours…
@markster666 @alastorsfawn @senseichaos @alastoralltruist @dasimp777 @imgonnadielaughing-blog @thewinchestah @strawberrypimp666 @tpks @stygianoir @polytheatrix @prosciuttosblog @angelltheninth @peachedtv @yourdoorisunlocked @kiralaufeyson84
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sturnsdarling · 3 months ago
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'Stay the fuck away from her'
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{based on this ask I left in @sturnioz inbox} fratboy!chris leaves shy!reader alone at a party for the first time and it goes south, quickly.
vibe check: fighting, violence etc, pressure to do drugs, fratboy!chris being a guard dog, fratboy!matt being a lil bruiser (i love him) a TINY bit of fluff bc I cant help myself and I'm a sucker for an asshole (fb!chris) with a soft spot (s!reader)
1.6k words
A/N: based on cas' fratboy!chris au. FUCK I love this. I had this idea after cas' lil blurb about jealous!fbchris and she told me to write it so mother gets what mother wants. another day another slay y'all lets fucking go. PART TWO HERE
love and cigs, merc
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The frat house was nearly vibrating with the movement of hundreds of people, all moving, dancing, fucking and taking drugs in every millimetre of the house.
Chris and Matt were off doing their rounds with the freshers, Chris handing out his new stuff to all the sorority girls that pushed themselves against him before palming them off to Matt, who was just as uninterested in them but of course, made the moves to make the sale.
Tonight was a big night, it being the first party back after Christmas break so, the boys actually left you by yourself for the first time ever to make their rounds. Of course, Chris had instructed Nate to watch over you, but he was so faded that he could barely look after himself.
You were sat on a smelly couch in a back room, pressed in between two rival frat brothers to Chris' frat, both of them fawning over you as you sat there uncomfortably, shifting in your skin at the sensation of them peppering encouraging touches over you.
"come on, baby, one lil pill wont hurt you" one said, holding a small white pill in front of your face, your eyes nearly crossing as you stared at it.
"yeah, it'll be fun, and don't worry, we'll look after you" the other said, menacingly smirking at his frat brother
you shook your head, "I'm alright, I don't do drugs like that" you said, trying to crane your head back from them.
"theres a first time for everything, baby" one of the boys said, pressing his thumb into your chin, attempting to open your mouth as his friend moved the pill closer to your lips.
Nate was sat on the other side of the room, two girls draped over his lap as he sucked on one of their necks, palming the other ones ass.
"oh fuck" he said as he looked over to you, pressed between two frat boys as they waved a pill in front of your face.
He pushed the girls off him and they whined in a huff. He lifted his lips and pulled his phone from his pocket, opening it and calling Chris.
"Chris, dude, theres some guys here n'there all over your girl, touchin' her n'shit, one of them has a pill and kid is basically forcing it in her mouth" he said down the phone.
Chris didn't reply, only hung up the phone with a tsk sound and summoned Matt to follow him.
Within seconds, Chris was in the room, searching around the sea of bodies for you. He met Nates eyes first, who was once again sandwiched between two blondes. Nate pointed over to the other side of the room to you. The sight made Chris' blood boil, a villainous smile etched across his face, shaking his head and pressing his tongue to the side of his mouth as the thought of what he was gonna do to that kid raced through his mind. You were desperately trying to free yourself from the trap the boys had laid for you, squirming as they touched you and edged a pill closer and closer to your lips.
Chris stormed over, taking a long drag of his joint before tossing it to the floor. Just as quick as he arrived at the sofa, his hands were wrapped around one of the boys shirts, pulling him off the sofa and throwing him on the floor. Everyone gasped, moving out the way and gawking at the sight of Chris coming to stand over him.
"dude what th-" the guys questioning was cut off by Chris coming down on him and clocking him round the jaw with a swift punch.
"Chris!" You shouted, jumping off the sofa and grabbing his shoulders.
He shoved you off him and turned back to the kid underneath him, swinging down once more and cracking his jaw off his knuckles.
"y'think you're hard 'cuz you pressure girls into taking your shit pills? huh, kid? y'think you're a fuckin' gangsta?" Chris screamed as he laid into him.
The guy was borderline unconscious as you screamed Chris' name over and over again. Matt came up behind you, grabbing you by the shoulders, "go stand with Nate" Matt said, pushing you in Nates direction.
You nearly fell forward as you stumbled over to Nate, unable to tear your eyes of Chris as he continued to hit the boy beneath him, never letting up despite the boys pleads.
"yo, get the fuck off him" His frat brother shouted, coming to grab Chris by the shoulders. His movements quickly cut off by Matt, pulling him backwards and shoving him back to the sofa.
"watch ya hands, tough guy" Matt chuckled, grabbing the guy by the scruff of his shirt and nutting him, cracking his nose off his forehead. The guy recoiled, blood pouring from his nose instantly as his hands flew to his face.
Matt pushed him back as he stumbled, meeting him on the floor with a brutal clock across his jaw.
Chris got up off the guy and pulled him up with him, holding his bloodied and swollen face inches from his, "think you're a fuckin' big dog, yeah?" He turned and threw the nearly limp guy on the sofa.
The boy shook his head frantically, holding his hands up as Chris stood over him. "no, no, I don't, I don't, I didn't know she was your girl dude, m'sorry" He stuttered.
"well, now you do, so stay the fuck away from her, yeah?" he spat, moving as if he was going to hit him again.
The boy flinched and whimpered, running away, leaving his frat brother to fend for himself as Matt continued to pummel into him. He was relentless, near enough laughing as the boy lost consciousness underneath him.
"you wanna force girls into doing shit? you wanna be a tough guy n'drug girls jus' so they'll fuck you?" Matt said, pulling the guy up off the ground by his shirt, "hows it feel bein' a fuckin' loser, huh? tell me kid, hows it feel?"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" the guy cried and Matt just laughed in his face.
Chris panted as he watched the guy he near enough battered run away. He turned round to Matt, placing a hand on his shoulder and tapping him.
"s'enough, Matt, y'gonna kill him" he said, pulling Matt off the bloodied and battered boy on the floor.
Chris eyes immediately searched for you, finding you tucked into Nate, scared shitless of what you had just witnessed. He walked over to you, everyone in the room still staring at him as he did.
When he reached you, he grabbed you by the back of the neck and pulled you round to face him, taking your face into his bloodied hands.
"did they give you anything? huh? did they do anything t'you?" His eyes searched your face for any signs of drugs or bruises.
"no" you shook your head, brows furrowed as tears welled in your eyes.
Chris sighed and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. It was weird, Chris never hugged you like this, but as if on instinct you sunk into him, wrapping your hands around his waist.
"m'so sorry I left you alone, y'not leaving my side ever again, okay?" he muttered into your hair.
You nodded into his chest, whimpering slightly at the sensation of Chris breaking the hug.
"and you-" Chris spat, pushing Nate by the shoulders, "y'were s'possed to look after, her not let sketty fuckin' sorority girls distract you, fuckin' idiot" Chris said, insulting the girls as if they weren't right there.
"chill man, it all turned out peachy" Nate chuckled, stepping backwards with his hands up in surrender.
"get the fuck out my face, dude, can't even look at you" Chris spat, turning back to face you, taking your face in his hand once more.
"y'sure you're okay, kid?" he asked, soft eyes baring into yours.
you nodded, leaning into his gentle touch, the smell of iron lingering on his hand as it caressed your face.
"you didn't need to go that hard, Chris, you could have gotten hurt" you said, bringing a soft hand up to wrap around his wrist.
Chris chuckled, soothing a thumb over your face and raising his brows. "does it look like that kid could'a hurt me?" he asked, a prideful grin spread across his face.
You returned his smile and shook your head, gripping his wrist tighter.
"besides, you're important t'me, or whatever, so, I wasn't gonna let that fuckin' loser be all over you like that"
"I'm important to you?" you cheesed
"yeah, whatever, kid, try not to pull a muscle from cheesin' so hard" he rolled his eyes with a smirk.
"thankyou, for protecting me, Chris" you said, tugging at his wrist slightly.
"always" he said simply, before pulling you into a soft and quick kiss, his mouth slotting perfectly over yours, the taste of weed and shit beer lingering on his breath.
You chased the taste, whimpering slightly as he pulled away and dropped his hand from your face. You were smiling from ear to ear as he shifted his weight between his feet.
"wipe that smile off ya face, kid, s'not happenin' again" Chris said, referring to the kiss as he wiped a wet spot off your lip with his thumb.
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taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10
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gor3-hound · 4 months ago
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FUCK YOU !! (AND, UH, FUCK HER TOO) — LOGAN HOWLETT + SCOTT SUMMERS
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ft. scott summers x f!reader x logan howlett
a/n: deadpool and wolverine full throttled me back into my x-men era... rewatched the first two movies and binge wrote this over the course of three hours... it's pure, shameless smut with slightly gay undertones idk what to tell you... reader is basically in place of jean!!
cw: 18+ content, double penetration, almost cucking, cheating, reader is scott's girlfriend, logan is an asshole, competitive sex?? fighting, clawsTM, biting, marking, mild possessive behavior, p in v, mild scent kink, assholery all round tbh, creampies, threesome. gay crisis for a second x
word count: 2.3k words
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Scott is starting to think Logan likes his things way too much. First, it was the way he looked at you when he was first brought to the school, eyes raking over your form. Scott wasn't blind – the visor didn't impair his vision that much. He remembers walking into the room when the both of you were alone. He could sense the tension between the two of you before his presence was even made known to you.
It wasn't until a while later he'd figured out Logan probably smelt him coming. Cocky bastard probably wanted to be caught.
Then, it was his motorcycle. His very own pride and joy. Returned with an empty tank, his keys tossed to him like it was nothing. His eyes narrowed imperceptibly behind his visor as he chucked the keys back to Logan. He barely managed to reign in his irritation.
“You gonna tell me to stay away from your girl?” Scott had told him to do so after that comment, despite having the faith in you that you'd be able to avoid Logan's charms. He was clearly wrong. Logan didn't seem like the type to have much respect, but this was just taking the piss.
“Been meaning to test if these beams could pulverise Adamantium.”
All he gets in reply is a shit eating grin from Logan as he pulls away from the heated kiss Scott had walked in on, his hands still gripping your waist. You really had the audacity to get all wide-eyes and shocked, like you weren't just about to fuck Logan with your ass perched on Scott's bike.
“Shit. Scott, I'm-”
“Sorry?” He cuts off, gaze very clearly still trained on Logan despite the way his shades conceal his line of vision. “Yeah. Save it.”
“Thought I could smell that shitty hair gel.” Logan huffs, bringing his head down to nip and suck at your neck, adding to the wide array of marks he's already left. And you fucking let him, tilting your head back and gasping like it's the best thing you've ever felt. Scott's gonna kill you, then Logan, then quite possibly himself. “How long’s it take you to get that done in the mornin’ anyway, pretty boy?”
“Right. Says the guy with kitty ears?” Scott bites back, taking a few steps towards the both of you. “I'm gonna give you about three seconds to get away from my girl and my bike before we see how good your healing factor really is.”
Logan fucking laughs, kissing his way up your neck and along your jaw so he can whisper into your ear, breath hot against your skin. “Stay put for me, yeah? Shouldn't take long, sweetheart.”
He pushes away from the bike, turning around to face Scott. Cocks his head to the side like a damn dog, rolling his shoulders as his claws shoot out from his knuckles. “Don't make me embarrass you in front of your girl, Cy-clops.”
Scott fucking hates that, hates the way he drags out his name as if it's stupider than Wolverine. Hates everything about Logan, if he's being honest. Hates how easily the man manages to get under his skin every single time.
“You're such a fucking asshole, y'know that?” Scott squares up, trying his best not to hurl a beam directly at Logan with the hopes he'd be able to send him flying through the garage wall. He's meant to be a team player. Level-headed. He's not sure how the older man always reduces him to this.
“That really hurts my feelings, bub. I thought we were a team.” Logan stalks closer, and Scott's vaguely aware you've gotten up, ready to break up a fight that never comes. Claws sink into the drywall beside his head at the same time he hears you tell Logan to ‘stop’. His back hits the wall, and then the asshole leans down, lips brushing his ear just like he had to yours moments prior.
“Y'know, I can smell the changes in your scent when you're pissed, happy... Can also smell it when you're turned on.” He breathes out, inhaling deeply just to tease the man further. “So either you're really into you're girl gettin’ passed around, or you wanna fuck me. Shit, or both. Which is it, pretty boy?”
“I don't want you to fuck my girl, Logan.” Scott grits put. His looks literally can kill, and he's becoming increasingly tempted to prove that to the other man. “And I definitely don't wanna fuck you.”
“C'mere, baby.” Logan coos, gaze flicking to you. He tuts when Scott goes to move, pressing his body against his to prevent him from getting too far. “Ah-ah. Stay there, pretty boy.”
You're at Logan’s side in a second, peering up at him through your lashes like an obedient dog waiting for its next command. Shit makes Scott's blood boil, his body going rigid against the other man's.
“D'you wanna kiss me, sweetheart?” He asks you, cocking his head to the side with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. And you fucking nod, like your boyfriend isn't right there staring at you. “D'you think he wants a kiss from me, too, sweetheart? Think he deserves it? Can't have been treatin’ you right if you came runnin’ to me, huh? Maybe I should teach him?”
“Yeah, think he needs it. He's always so stressed, never wants to do anything.” Now you're airing out your relationship issues? Fucking great. Scott's practically seething now, lips parting to say something – anything – to defend himself.
He doesn't get the chance before Logan's lips crash against his. He tenses up, ready for a fight. His hands come up to push the man away, but fuck he's a good kisser. It's a lot different from a girl – rougher. There's a drag of his stubble, a pleasant burn that comes from it. His teeth sink into Scott's lower lip before tugging, then he's forcing his tongue into his mouth. Scott ends up dragging him closer, eyes fluttering shut as he kisses back.
A growl rises in Scott's throat when he hears you giggle at his reaction, but he doesn't have much time to think on it, ‘cause Logan laughs all breathy and hot into his mouth, and it's making him short circuit. The growl quickly transforms into a low whine, his lips chasing after the other man when he starts to pull back.
His eyes open just in time to watch as Logan grabs you by your hair to pull you into a needy kiss, his free hand grasping at your hip to grind you against his rapidly hardening length. Scott feels his own cock twitching to life at the sight, a breathless ‘fuck’ leaving his lips as he reaches down to palm himself through his jeans. He hasn't been this hard in months – maybe ever. He feels like a horny teenager again, leaking pre-cum steadily into the fabric of his boxers. He isn't sure what to think of it. Humiliating, is what it is.
Logan's lips are on his again, his hands sliding under his shirt, tugging him closer. He feels his cock pressing against the hard ridges of Logan's muscles, feels your own hands join his in exploring Scott's skin, your lips pressing kisses along his neck and jaw.
“Relax, Scott.” You say, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. Relax, yeah. His dick is rubbing against another man's for the first time while his girlfriend is reaching around him to unbutton his jeans, and you want him to relax. This is a totally normal scenario that isn't throwing him head first into an identity crisis.
He gets lost in the hands on his body, the lips against his skin. Before he knows it, the three of you are naked and panting and pressed against each other. Scott feels like he can't breathe properly. His eyes dart between your body, and the fattest dick he's ever seen in his life. He doesn't know if he should be turned on or really, really insecure. His cock answers by jumping against his abdomen and leaving a sticky trail of pre-cum. Traitor.
Logan grunts as he lifts you up almost effortlessly, his arms resting at the back of your knees, using them as makeshift slings to hold you up against his chest, which is flush to your back. He quirks an eyebrow as Scott just stares, unmoving. “Well? You don't need me to tell you where to put your dick, do you? No wonder she's so pent up.”
“Asshole.” Scott says simply in response, stepping towards you. His words lack any real bite – he's too turned on to even think about being pissy. He fists his length leisurely a few times before lining up with your entrance, pushing forward inch by inch until his hips are flush with the backs of your thighs, your legs dangling helplessly at his sides.
You gasp and whine as Logan moves to slide in alongside your boyfriend, nails digging into his skin until Logan is buried to the hilt inside of you. Scott instantly peppers the skin of your neck with kisses, trying to soothe you.
“You alright, baby?” He asks, all soft and sweet. He's forgotten why he was mad at you in the first place, mind foggy with arousal as your cunt clenches around him.
“She's fine, bub. She can take it. Isn't that right, sweet thing.” Another whine, then a nod. It eases Scott, if only slightly, when he feels you relaxing against them. A beat passes, and then another. His eyes meet Logan’s and they both start to move – slowly, at first, before picking up the pace.
You're so much tighter like this, sucking him in desperately as he tries to find a rhythm with Logan. He can barely focus in anything but your heat and the way his cock ruts against Logan's as they both fuck into you. It's almost maddeningly hot, and he's feeling overwhelmingly anxious that he's going to cum in an embarrassingly short amount of time.
Scott leans down, his lips meeting yours as he rocks forward over and over. His lashes flutter as he sucks on your tongue, kissing you greedily. He feels a hand tugging at his hair, pulling him away from you before sharp teeth start to nip at his lower lip, a tongue bullying his way into his mouth. He sucks on Logan's, too, kissing him back just as hungrily as he did to you. He rubs soothing circles into your hips as he picks up the pace, coaxing you into relaxing further.
A growl rumbles Logan's chest when he feels Scott fucking you faster, his hips snapping against the fat of your thighs with more intensity, like he's determined to fuck you better than the other man. He's bigger, tip bullying your cervix with every thrust in a way that makes you tear up. His nose twitches as he smells the saltiness of your tears, then he's pulling away from Scott to lap them off of your face.
“Shhh, shh… you can take it, sweetheart. I know you can.” He coos softly, moving to nuzzle the crook of your neck, nose running along the skin like he's scenting you. Both men continue to slide in and out of your slick heat, grunting and groaning like animals as they chase their release.
“You gonna cum for me, baby?” Your boyfriend coos. Scott needs you to cum soon, because he's barely holding on as it is. He doesn't want to leave you unsatisfied – especially now he's very aware Logan will gladly pick up his slack. His hand falls from your hip to make its way between your legs, thumb rubbing circles into your clit until your muscles grow taut. He grins, sucking a possessive mark over one of the hickies Logan had left earlier. Take that, asshole.
Your walls flutter and clench around both cocks as you reach your peak, a shaky moan of Scott's name leaving your lips as your head falls back against Logan's shoulder. Check and mate.
“Hear that, kitty claws? I'm still her favourite.” He huffs out, hands returning to your hips in an almost bruising grip as he ruts helplessly inside your tight heat, balls tightening as his orgasm rapidly approaches.
“S'only ‘cause she's lookin’ at ya, dumbass.” Really, it shouldn't be Logan's gruff, fucked-out tone that drives him over the edge, but it is. He blows his load a second later, forehead dropping against the crook of your neck as he fills you with spurts of hot, white liquid. He gasps against your skin, nails digging into your plush flesh.
Logan isn't far behind, grunting as he forces every inch of his cock deep inside of you, head tipping back as he releases. The tips of his claws threaten to breach the skin of his knuckles, but he manages to suppress them enough that they never fully unsheathe. He pants softly, chest heaving as he thrusts shallowly through his orgasm.
“Fuck.” He hisses, slowly pulling out of you. He lifts you off of Scott's cock, settling you down on the seat of the motorcycle so you can all catch your breath. Logan rubs soothing circles into your back as Scott steps forward, all but slumping against you as he embraces you.
“Did so good, baby. Was perfect.” He breathes out, pressing kisses along your bare shoulder. He pulls back just enough to look at Logan, who's already lighting up a cigar. “The fuck did that even come from?”
That shit-eating grin lights up the older man's face again as he takes a few short draws from the cigar in his mouth. He exhales the smoke, pulling it out of his mouth to speak.
“Trust me, pretty boy. You really don't wanna know.”
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roastedoatmilk · 4 months ago
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Who Kissed Nanami?
Kento Nanami x GN! Reader
Summary: The first year trio see that someone left lipstick on Nanami’s collar so they decide to play detective and figure out who it was
Word Count: 1.7k
Tags: literally so much fluff, the first years follow nanami, heavily implied itafushi, some sprinkles of nobamaki, nanami and reader being disgustingly in love with each other
Little Things Masterlist
This was also posted on ao3
A/N This was heavily inspired by a selfship commission i have from my lovely friend cassecreeoute let me know if y’all would like to see it :D
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Something was different about Nanami, that much Yuji could tell. He wasn’t quite sure what it was but the stoic man seems to have a bit more pep in his step as of late. While out on missions Nanami seemed more adamant than usual to leave at exactly 6pm, making quick work of whatever it is that’s keeping him. On multiple occasions the pink haired boy has caught his mentor smiling at his phone; two things that the man doesn’t often do. On this day in particular the elder man came into work with a faint red mark peeking up from almost right under where the collar of his shirt meets his neck causing alarm bells to go off in the boy’s head. Yuji decides that his best course of action is to go to Fushiguro and Kugisaki with his findings. He manages to catch Fushiguro while he’s leaving his dorm only offering a small “Need to talk to you.” before grabbing the spiky haired boy by the hand and dragging him down the hallway.
They managed to find Kugisaki sitting beside Maki in the courtyard, the two girls leaning over a phone discussing something in hushed voices. As the boys drew closer they were able to catch a bit of their conversation. 
“I’m telling you Maki he’s obviously hiding something.” Nobara whispers to her elder classmate before continuing.”Nanami doesn’t seem like the type to share stuff like that anyways.” 
Maki nods along before looking up and seeing the two boys approaching them, still holding hands with each other. A smirk grows on the green haired girl’s face seeing this before she stands up and says her goodbyes to the trio. The boys make their way over to their counterpart sitting down next to her. Nobara looks the two boys up and down in annoyance.
“What do the two of you want?” The ginger girl huffs, “I was having a conversation you know.”
Yuji flushes in embarrassment, lowering his head before responding in a hushed voice “I think Nanamin has someone special in his life, I’ve noticed some stuff about him lately.” 
Hearing this Nobara visibly perks up giving the cursed boy her full attention, grabbing him by the shoulders she shakes him while saying “Why didn’t you start with that, tell me everything you know right now!” 
“Kugisaki, if you expect him to answer you need to stop shaking him.” Megumi says, speaking for the first time since Yuji dragged him to the courtyard. 
The elder girl stopped shaking the boy, giving him a break so that he can say his findings. Taking a deep breath Yuji then tells the two everything that he has noticed, even showing them the photo he sneakily took of the mark on Nanami’s neck. Nobara snatched the phone out of his hands to examine the photo further, zooming in as close as possible on the photo.
“I definitely recognize that shade of lipstick, a bit too red for my taste personally.” The girl speaks before handing the phone back to its owner.
Yuji pockets his phone, collecting his thoughts for a moment before declaring “I think we need to investigate where Nanami is going after work, he told me he has somewhere to be tonight.” 
A bewildered look crosses Megumi’s face as he listens to the boy next to him, not really wanting to spend his night following the blond stoic man around. However Nobara seems equally as determined as the pink haired boy to figure out what Nanami is hiding. The two of them lean into each other and whisper ideas of where the man could be heading to. 
Later that night at exactly 6pm Nanami stands from his desk, paperwork already completed, and starts to head out for the night. The first years watch as the door to his office opens and he walks out, heading straight for the entryway of the school. The three students spring into action, following behind the man at a reasonable distance. 
They watch as the man pulls out his phone and calls someone the second he walks through the school’s barrier. Yuji and Nobara gasp as they see the man smile as he says he’ll meet whoever is on the other end of the line at a restaurant a few blocks away, their jaws drop even more as they hear the man say that he loves the person and that he’ll see them soon. Nobara grabs the two younger boys and forces them into a group huddle. 
“He’s definitely seeing someone, we need to follow him to the restaurant and find out who it is.” The girl whispers conspiratorially. Yuji firmly nods agreeing with her while Megumi just sighs before nodding as well. 
The three continue following behind the taller man, making sure to keep their distance. When he arrives at the restaurant he visibly perks up when he sees a person sitting at one of the tables by the window. Making his way inside the trio watch as he walks over to the person, coming up behind them and placing his hands over their eyes causing the person to laugh as they try and guess who it is covering their eyes. Nobara and Yuji’s eyes widen as they watch the person remove his hands from their eyes then stand up and turn around to face Nanami, placing a kiss on his lips leaving behind a mark in the same shade as the one on his neck. Nobara lets out a squeal so loud that it causes the two lovers’ heads to snap in her direction. The first years freeze in place knowing that they are now caught spying on the older man. 
Nanami lets out a deep sigh, pinching his fingers between his eyes and shaking his head. His partner however just laughs at the shocked faces of the kids, leaning into Nanami’s shoulder for support. The older man's shoulders now bouncing as he also chuckles at the kids. The three stand there in complete shock watching the two adults laugh at their expense. 
“W-we are so sorry for following you Nanamin, we just had noticed some stuff about you lately and wanted to find out what it meant.” Yuji stutters, his face completely red at this point. 
“Yeah!” Nobara chimed in, “Besides it was Itadori’s idea in the first place I was just following along.” This caused the pink haired boy to bow his head in shame, nodding along to the words of the older girl. Megumi stands with the two before waving shyly at you, his face a vibrant shade of pink. 
You laugh even harder at the three students before making your way over to them standing in front of the trio. Nanami follows behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 
“It’s very nice to meet you two and it’s nice to see you again Megumi.” You say to the kids, your voice gentle as if talking to a baby deer.  A bright look in your eyes as you speak to the kids. 
Yuji’s head shoots up towards Megumi at hearing that the dark haired boy had met you before, Megumi refusing to look at his friends mutters a “It’s nice to see you again too.” 
Yuji and Nobara round on him after he speaks, the elder girl staring daggers into the green eyed boy. 
“Why didn't you tell us that you knew about Nanami’s partner huh??” Nobara squawks clinging to his arm.
“Do you not trust us, is that it Fushiguro?” Yuji asks with fake tears in his eyes, playing into Nobara’s act.
Megumi frees himself from Nobara before he tentatively reaches out to hook his pinky around the pink haired boy’s own. Megumi takes a few moments before speaking to his friends in a soft tone, “It just wasn’t my place to reveal that sort of information, I figured they were keeping it a secret for a reason.” 
The other two nod in understanding, giving up the act they had been putting on finding his reason acceptable. Yuji locks his pinky around Megumi’s in response. The two boys shyly looked at each other before the clearing of a throat caused their heads to snap up. Nanami and you are still standing there watching the trio, a small smile gracing both of your faces. 
“Have any of you eaten yet?” The tall blond man asks the trio, his voice soft. The three shake their heads in response, and on queue Yuji’s stomach starts to growl. Causing everyone to let out a laugh. 
“Come on kiddos, let's get you guys some food before you have to go back to school.” You say, ushering the kids into the restaurant. 
The three sitting in the booth across from where Nanami and yourself sit. You spend the next few hours getting to know the kids as you all eat. Answering any of the questions that the trio had. After all of the food was eaten and the kids ran out of questions, Nanami paid the bill before telling the kids that he’ll walk them back to the school. The three groan not yet wanting to go back but follow the elder man anyways. Before they leave Nanami gives you a peck on the lips, a smile gracing his face as he looks at you. 
“I’ll be home as soon as I make sure that they’re all back in their dorms.” The freckled man murmurs, placing yet another peck on your lips. You laugh at the man before nodding and turning to the kids. 
“It was lovely meeting you both Itadori and Kugisaki, and it was great seeing you again Fushiguro.” you tell the trio. Wrapping the three of them into a quick hug. 
“It was nice meeting you too.” Yuji and Nobara blurt at the same time causing you to smile even wider at them. 
“It was good to see you again.” Megumi mutters his face still pink from embarrassment.
You let the three go and Nanami ushers them towards the exit, the three dragging their feet behind him. Laughing at the kids as you watch them go, you hope that you’ll be able to have dinner with the trio again soon.
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A/N here’s part two i had tons of fun writing this i hope y’all enjoy it as always lmk what y’all think in the comments 🫶🏻
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a-b-riddle · 7 months ago
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Part 8
You had planned to spend Sunday morning nursing a hangover with Mere and Tabitha, but after last night’s events you had decided to catch up on organizing the shop while putting your phone on do not disturb.
You had turned your location services off in hopes that for a few hours the world would just leave you the fuck alone.
A few hours was all you were given before a tapping came on the front door of your shop around noon. Peering through the glass window, you spotted him.
He was holding a huge brown paper bag looking at little worse for wear since the last time he showed up. You debated on ignoring him. He had missed the early morning shower otherwise you really would have left him outside.
Bastard.
"John-" When you opened the door, he entered immediately. No doubt guessing you planned to slam the door immediately after telling him to fuck off.
He would have been right.
"Please," you say flatly before closing the door. "Do come in." After last night, after this week, the last thing you wanted to do was see anybody. Him, Johnny, Simon, Kyle, fucking Meredith or Tabitha. Why was it so hard for a person who had very few people in her life, all of which were on the skirts with her, to leave her alone for a single day?
"Well?" You asked when he said nothing. He cleared his throat, as if preparing himself for a long, drawn out speech.
Instead he handed you the bag, the smell hitting you. Warm and welcoming. Price was the only one out of the four who could cook a damn good meal, which made him extra picky when it came to eating out. “Wanted to check in.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, not knowing what to do with them now. “Simon said you had a rough night.”
You scoffed at the understatement. "Yeah," you hated this. You didn't want to tell John about your shitty night with your even shittier friends. "It wasn't the best night out."
"So you know that bloke who got handsy or was he just some random prick?" Your mouth fell open in shock. You didn't expect Simon to be such a fucking gossip. And how fuckin' dare John for thinking he had any right to know who was grabbing your ass and your involvement to that person.
No. Fuck that.
"We're not doing this," you said putting the bag on an empty display table. Fuck. You need to go ahead and unbox that shipment in the back.
"What?" He asked, oblivious as to what he said that was wrong. You push heel of your hands into your eyes, trying to stop the headache that was threatening to form. "Some prick took a feel of ya' and I want to see if-"
"If what?" You cut in. "If I need some comfort at being utterly fucking humiliated at Simon going all caveman in front of everyone and dragging me outside like a child? Or do you want to finish want Simon start with almost killing him!"
"From what I heard, he didn't kill him," John's audacity to correct you as if Simon's restraint was remarkable baffled you. "There's something to be said about that."
"He held him by the neck in the air like a ragdoll. He choked him out in the middle of the pub."
"But," he held up a finger. "he didn't break his neck. He knew you'd be upset."
"You're not seriously defending him right now." You could feel your blood pressure rising. Your lid ready to blow like a fucking kettle.
"From what Simon said it didn't look like the attraction was mutual." That gave you pause. Simon told John it didn't look... mutual. Could Simon tell you were uncomfortable? Did he hear everything Percy said?
Where the fuck did Simon come from anyway?
why the fuck was he at the pub in the first place???
Your mouth hung open for several beats. Any longer and a bug could fly in. But fuck if it didn't feel like cold water had been dumped on you. Why and how did Simon think it wasn't mutual? Why did he care??? Why was he acting like he didn't?
"He-" You began, trying to think of what to ask only to simply screech out "What?" John held his hands up in surrender. Your kettle whistled. You were pissed. More pissed than John had ever seen you and it was still a miracle you hadn't hurled the take out at his head.
"All I'm saying is if he grabbed you without an invitation and Simon saw, the prick is lucky to be alive, much less still walking around with hands."
"Si-" you started. "He-" You clinched your fists so tightly your nails painfully cut into the palm of your hand. "UGH!" You stomped your foot. It was childish, but you didn't care. "I don't need him rescuing me goddamit! I don't need any of you pissing on my legs like a fucking dog and-" you didn't stop. You weren't sure how long you carried on verbally lashing John nor did you give a single flying fuck.
Fuck him. Fuck Simon. Fuck all of them. They didn't get to stalk you and relay information like gossiping fucking school girls. They didn't get to break your heart and believe that you would let them piece it back together. They didn't get to neglect you only to realize you knew your worth. Only giving a shit until you walked away.
You went on and on until your throat ached. You weren't sure what thoughts had left your lips. You weren't entirely sure all what you said. All you knew is that you didn't feel any better. The look on Price's fallen face didn't give you any relief. You took it out on him and you were still hurting.
"Why?" Your voice was hoarse and pleading. "Why won't you guys just fucking leave? You were barely staying in it when we were together? Why now?"
He took a tentative step forwarding. His hands started to reach out to touch your arms before falling back down at his side. He knew he had lost the right to touch you. To comfort you.
"I miss you, Dove." He confessed it as if it would somehow make it all better. "We miss you." You try not to let it phase you, but fuck you were made of flesh, not stone. No matter how angry furious disgusted absolutely devastated you were with everything that happened, with what they did and didn't do, you still, or at least had, loved them. That love didn't vanish over the span of a week. Lord know your broken heart hadn't. "We'll do better."
"It's not that simple." You shook your head, your palms covering your eyes as they began to prickle. You hoped the motion would come across as tired frustration, but John knew. It was your tell. You were close to crying. You always rubbed your face when you were upset.
"It is." He said, finally taking the chance to touch you. Even if it was just to hold your hands in his calloused ones. "We mucked things up, let us fix it. Give us at least the change to be better."
"How?" You asked. "Stop fucking yelling at me for a couple of months until something makes you blow your fucking lid and I'm left feeling like a little kid who's in trouble?" You were surprised not to see him flinch away, but the soft look in his eyes was enough to break your heart all over again. "Or Kyle actually showing up for dates? Johnny not treating me like a fuck buddy?"
"We haven't been good to you." He admits and you still don't feel better. Leaving them hasn't made you feel any better. Only angrier. Yelling at him didn't. Fucking Johnny and breaking his heart didn't. Maybe Mer had a point. Just not with Percy. "We all wanted you and slacked off in doing right by ya."
"So what?" You press. "You want to resume where we left off? I just take you all back and work through the fact of how shitty you all were and hope that you make it up to me?
"No," he shook his head. "Not like that."
"Then what?" You asked.
"I'm fighting for me and you. No one else." You didn't know what to say. The four of them had always been a part of the deal. All or nothing. I mean, the fact that you even entertained the idea of being with all of them was the reasoning that if one of them had went down on the field, three more were there to take care of you.
"If the others can get their own shit together great." He shrugged his shoulders. "If I can't and they can, that's fine too." He stared in your eyes and for a moment, you thought about the first time John apologized for getting angry. Not at you, just in front of you. How he had gotten on his knees and told you the last thing he wanted was for you to be afraid of him. To look at him the same way recruits looked at him. "But I think where we failed was all of us was expecting another one to pick up the slack."
That much was true. Where others failed, others thrived. Simon always stayed after sex, Johnny never raised his voice, John was insistent on going on dates, and Gaz was emotionally available... when he was around at least.
"I know I wasn't the man I needed to be. I wasn't the man you deserved. I took things out on you that weren't your fault. I spoke to you in a way that if any other man did, I would knock him right the fuck out." He shook his head before giving your hands a squeeze. "I'll do what I need to do to set things right between you and me. I'll put in the work to do whatever it takes to have you trust me again."
"It wasn't about not trusting you." You counter
"But it is now." He said. "You don't trust me to respect you; to show kindness, patience. And I know I have my own shit to sort out before even thinking about us being like we were. When things were good, I mean."
You don't know what to say, but you can't say he's right. You don't trust him. Not with your heart. Not anymore.
Moments of silence pass before John lets go of your hands and takes a quick survey of the boxes around you. Your background music of Van Morrison still playing softly from the speaker near your computer.
"You seem busy, so I'll let you get to it." He takes in a deep breath. You're expecting another spiel about how he promises to work on it. Just to give him a chance. You're actually worried you'll consider it. "I picked up your usual. Figured things haven't changed that much since we last went to our spot down by the river."
"Haven't been there in a minute."
"You wouldn't." He said. "Closed the place and moved shop. It's over by the park."
"The one with the asshole geese or the one where Johnny and I were flashed by that guy strung out?" That makes him laugh. You can't remember the last time John laughed. The way his eyes crinkled and his smile shifted his whole face into something entirely joyous.
You missed it.
"Asshole geese." He answered before turning and heading to the door. You didn't speak until the chime of the bell rang.
"What if the others don't?" You ask before he had the chance to close the door. "Get their shit together, I mean."
He turned, giving you that signature closed smile that makes him look like a quokka. You told him that once and he had to googling before arguing that he didn't look like the world's happiest rodent. "That's on them. I have my own work to do." His smile dropping into something softer. Something pleading and pitiful. "But, we still want this. We all still want this. Want you."
You shook your head. The threat of tears returning as you realized how wrong he was. Maybe he did. But not all of them. "Simon doesn't." you huffed, arms crossing over your chest. "He's made that much clear."
"That I don't believe." He shook his head. "Not for a minute."
"Believe it." You sucked in air through your nose as if trying to clear it. Price knew he had to leave. He knew he couldn't see you cry. He knew you wouldn't want him to even if he wanted to stay and make up for all the times he was the reasons behind your tears.
"I didn't do what I needed to and I'll do whatever it takes to get you back." He promises. "But if it came down to it... if you want to settle down and just chose one of us to have you, to keep you," he took in a deep breath. The next words like a knife twisting in his chest. "I wouldn't truly love you if I didn't tell you that Simon is the only one of us who deserves you."
"Why?" You knew in that moment Simon hadn't told John about that night. About his cruel words and your realization that he was right. There was never a true happily ever after with them.
"Because he's the only one willing to hide in the shadows and let you live your life," his smile now gone completely. "I'm sorry that I'm too selfish to do that."
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