#fuck you bolt don’t be a creep

[singmyaubade]

Good Luck Babe

poly!marauders x nerd!female!reader

summary: after being a wallflower throughout your first five years at hogwarts, you always thought that you could be invisible. but when you hear the marauders talking cruelly about you and proceeding to ask for your forgiveness after, well good luck babe.

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, reader wants to kill the marauders , swearing, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), jealousy

a/n: oh hey... this is kinda based on those cliche 2000's movies where the girl is ugly but not really and she has that glow up or whatever. this was written so quick and not proofread, don't kill me. i hope you enjoy and as always, i apologize if you hate this!

STARTING off your sixth year at Hogwarts being an entirely new person wasn't something that you had planned or expected.

On the inside, you felt exactly the same, the same girl who was bold and could ferociously win a fight when it came to her character.

The same girl who was witty and sarcastic, surprising half of the people around you when you made a joke once in a lifetime.

But on the outside, you didn't have an awkward mis-shaped bob and you no longer wore baggy jackets that didn't do a thing for your figure.

And you didn't hide your face anymore, trying your best to be invisible.

It wasn't that you were shy or that you felt like a loser but you thought social hierarchy was bullshit and the only thing you wanted to focus on was your studies.

You may have been a brave Gryffindor on the inside but on the outside, you had to play the part of a shy mouse as corny as that sounds.

Unfortunately for you, invisibility only tends to last for so long until one moment, you are a nobody and then all eyes are upon you.

And maybe, just maybe, if you hadn't heard the Marauders discussing you the previous year, you would have stayed the same.

You had passed by the boys dormitory to give Remus his textbooks back as you always did when you let you borrow when you heard them speaking of the very person behind the door,

"I still have yet to understand why Lily and the rest of them act like she's some charity case," James huffed, "I mean, she's not some sick patient, they only feel the need to pity her because of how she looks."

You always knew that James had a foul mouth but to be speaking about someone like this, it was cruel.

Remus hissed, "That's not nice Prongs,"

"I'm not even saying it to be a dick!" James groaned, "I just mean, I pity her more for the fact that they don't even invite her to anything outside of breakfast and dinner," He explained, causing Remus to go silent.

Sirius chuckled, shaking his head. "That's absolutely horrid."

James reclined on his bed, a smirk playing on his lips. "I’m just saying, if I were Y/N, I’d be mortified."

Your eyes widened as they began to water, they were speaking about you.

Remus leaned against the wall, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Maybe she just doesn’t want to hang out with Lily and the others."

"Moony, seriously," James shot back, sitting up. "Where is Y/N right now, and where are the other girls?" His eyebrow cocked, trying to make his point as Remus silenced.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Why don’t we investigate for ourselves?" He unfolded the Marauder's Map with a flourish. "Alright, we’ve got Lily, Dorcas, Mary, and Marlene all at Hogsmeade, but Y/N is..." His voice trailed off, eyes narrowing.

James leaned closer, annoyance creeping into his tone as he grabbed the map, "She's-" He stopped, the color fading from his face.

"Fucking spit it out!" Remus said next as he snatched the map finally and saw that the map had shown that you were right outside their door.

"Shit!" You heard Remus say as he started making his way to the door.

Hearing his footsteps approaching, you quickly moved away from the door, bolting for your room.

Once you made it back to your dorm, you had sinked the floor. You put your hand on your mouth, muffling yourself as you cried silently.

You honestly hated to even say it but you did consider Lily and the rest of them your friends. You had never really thought about how they didn't invite you to places.

And if you were being truthful, they had never asked you to have breakfast or dinner with them.

You had always just assumed that you could join but they never told you to leave or swooshed you off. Another part of you hated how stupid you were, trying to intrude on their private time.

You didn't want to let it get to you what a bunch of seventeen year old boys were saying but it did sting horribly.

But in a way, it also motivated you to be who you were on the inside. You already had the top marks in your entire year and your plan to work in the Ministry after Hogwarts had already been set.

And now your chance to be something at Hogwarts was right in front of you, an opportunity that you couldn't miss.

You had to do it for yourself.

The Marauders had no idea who you truly were or even cared to know. And although Remus was kind to you, you could always see that he never made any effort to be your friend.

Not that you expected him to but it only taught you that they truly thought you were some hopeless case.

And an assignment to make the Marauders bite their tongues was one that you couldn't bare to fail.

After hearing that, you decided to avoid the Marauders for the next month, especially with summer break approaching. To your surprise, you barely saw them outside of classes, never giving them a chance to reach out—even Remus.

And then that summer, everything changed. You let your hair grow past your shoulders, embracing your natural curls instead of straightening them. You started wearing clothes that were trendy and form-fitting, a huge contrast to your old style.

You discovered a newfound love for self-care, enjoying the process far more than you expected. Each day felt like a transformation, and by the end of summer, your mother couldn’t help but notice. “Finally listening to me about your style, huh?” she teased.

You only laughed as you embraced her,

If only she knew what had caused it in the first place.

As you said goodbye to your family, anticipation mingled with dread. You knew the train ride would be the least of your worries, but the welcome dinner and the ceremony ahead felt like they might just be hell reincarnate.

As you entered Hogwarts, you admired it as much as you did when you were a first year. The castle was something you considered a second home and everything about it was magical, there was no doubting that.

A crowd of students, including yourself, moved toward the Great Hall, and you settled into your usual seat at the Gryffindor table.

You spotted the Marauders and the usual group of girls approaching, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. They took their usual spots in front of you, with the girls on one side and the boys on the other. James sat beside you, and Lily was directly in front of him.

You never quite understood why they arranged themselves like that, but it hardly mattered in the moment.

They were busy in conversation before James had noticed someone next to him, his eyes widening. You couldn't quite read his face but it seemed like a mix of confusion and flustered.

You stared at him back but he still had yet to mutter a word. You cleared your throat, "Uh hello," You practically whispered.

He snapped back into reality, "Oh sorry, hi," He muttered back.

Silence took over you both as James couldn't find the words of what to say to you.

On one hand, he wanted to call you beautiful, to tell you that you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. On the other, he just wanted to stare at you for a few more minutes like a creep.

Lily noticed his gaze and leaned in, smirking. "Excuse my friend; we’re still trying to figure out if he has a brain."

"I thought we solved that decades ago," Marlene chimed in, stifling a laugh.

Lily turned to you with a curious smile. "I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. What’s your name?"

Are you actually fucking kidding me?

You scoffed, "I'm Y/N,"

The entire group looked at you in awe, even the ones who weren't chimed in on the conversation.

"Y/N L/N?" Sirius asked, mouth gaping.

"Yep, that one," You snorted.

They all looked like they had seen a ghost, "You look different," Marlene said as Mary shoved her.

"She means in a good way!" Mary added.

"Uh thanks," You said, awkwardly.

They all continued to stare at you like you were an exhibit in a museum, their eyes scanning you up and down.

"Do you all mind not staring at me?" you asked, trying to break the tension. They all looked away, feigning innocence as they muttered apologies.

"How have you been?" Lily asked, clearly trying to ease the awkwardness.

"Fine," you replied, your tone clipped.

You caught the pained expressions on the Marauders' faces, realizing they were the reason for your dismissive attitude.

"That's great," Lily said, forcing a smile.

You felt a wave of frustration at the awkwardness surrouding you and decided it was time to escape. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you announced, heading toward the exit before they could respond.

As you walked away, you could already here the mutters and whispers emerging from the table, the fascinating topic being you.

You paced as you heard footsteps trailing behind you, but you ignored them, letting your gaze wander around the castle.

"Y/N!" someone called out, startling you.

You turned to see Sirius, James, and Remus hurrying after you. You only let out a snort before continuing your same way.

A hand suddenly reached around your forearm as you turned to see Remus. You quickly snatched your hand away, finally stopping to look at the group of boys who you despised.

Crossing your arms, you shot them a hostile look. "What?"

"We just wanna—"

"We're so—"

"Listen, we just—"

They all spoke at once, but you scoffed and turned back toward the bathroom, starting to walk away.

You were hoping that they would realize you wanted nothing to do with them but instead, it only made them want to chase you more.

They quickened their pace, and you spun around sharply. "For fuck's sake, what do you want?" you snapped.

James took a breath, his expression earnest. "I'm sorry for what I said. I've been thinking about it since you left. I was an awful twat, and you didn't deserve a thing of what I said."

You let out a sarcastic laugh, "Are you serious?" You asked as your expression changed to furious, "You basically called me a loser and said that Lily and the rest of them were only hanging out with me out of pity,"

James hissed as your statement, feeling the razor in your voice.

"-And now you all want to act as if I should just forgive you since I don't look the same anymore," You got closer to James's face, "Fuck off."

You turned your heel again and this time, the boys didn't follow you.

You finally entered the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you struggled to read the expression on your face. You were furious at the Marauders, and the idea of forgiving them felt impossible.

Yet, there was a flicker of gratitude that you felt for the change you’d undergone. You’d gained a new confidence that felt good, but the sting of their cruel words still lingered in your mind.

And you knew that you couldn't let it get to you but knowing they thought that of you, even Remus. It still did things to you that you would never admit out loud.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you realized it was almost time to head to the dormitory.

The rest of the night had flown by, with first years being introduced to their new home for the next six years while everyone else relaxed in the common room. Despite curfews, fifth years and above knew they could hang out longer—the curfew was mostly for the first years anyway.

"Caput Draconis," you muttered, and the Fat Lady nodded, granting you entrance.

Stepping into the common room, your heart sank as you spotted the last group you wanted to see. They noticed you just as quickly, encouraging you to pick up your pace toward the dorm.

"Hey, Y/N!" Dorcas called out, making you wince as you turned to see her waving.

The Marauders looked down, shame etched on their faces, avoiding your gaze as if you were Medusa.

You approached them slowly, dread settling in your stomach as they eyed you like a science project.

"We were just about to play a fun little game," Dorcas said enticingly, while Marlene snorted beside her.

"I don’t know if Spin the Bottle is a great idea for the first night back," Marlene added, taking a sip of her beer.

"A little peck never hurt anyone," Lily chimed in, clapping her hands together.

Of all people, you’d never expect Lily Evans to approve such a thing. This was the same girl who nearly fainted when she heard about Marlene and Dorcas kissing the previous year.

"I don’t know if this is the game for me," you replied, eyeing the group warily.

"Of course it is!" Lily insisted, but you raised an eyebrow. "Oh my gosh! Not like that, I just mean it's a fun game for us all to play," she quickly added, looking flustered.

Part of you wanted to say no and retreat to your bed, but that was the old you, and you knew it wouldn’t help. This was a new year, and you were determined to embrace new experiences.

Besides, you’d never participated in any scandalous games for all of the years you've been at Hogwarts—it felt like a crime in itself.

So, after a moment’s hesitation, you said, "Okay, sure." The girls erupted in cheers, while the Marauders exchanged worried glances.

What if you had to kiss one of them? Would you refuse and create a scene? Would you want to strangle them for even suggesting it?

The possibilities raced through their mind, but there was no turning back as everyone began to form a circle.

As you sat in the circle, a shiver of nervousness enveloped you. You had never kissed anyone before and the whole thought made you nervous within itself.

Don't get it wrong, you've had chances but they never seemed right and you certainly weren't kissing Matthew Trunchbull underneath the bleachers of the Quidditch field.

So when you got offered a shot of firewhiskey to cool your nerves by Marlene, you took it happily as it burned down your throat.

You brushed off all the negative thoughts entering your mind,

What really is the worst thing that could happen?

[imorynn]

˚ʚ ── mi 𝙣𝙚𝙣𝙖, pretty 𝙗𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙮 ( ᴀ.ʜᴀʀᴋɴᴇꜱꜱ • ʀ.ᴠɪᴅᴀʟ )

˚ʚ pairings : agatha harkness ✗ fem!reader ✗ rio vidal

˚ʚ genre / mentions : nsfw (18+) throuple, established relationship, fingering ( rio giving to reader ), pet names, spanking, submissive!reader, agatha being rough, rio being more soft than agatha, pet names, rio speaking just slight spanish — affectionate!

˚ʚ word count : 1.2k+

˚ʚ author’s note : this is to be longer in a next fic — just had to get this out of the way :,>

──"S-shit!" your squeal was justified — although do not tell Agatha that — this was the thirteeieth time she had landed a cruel, dragged out blow on your ass.

"What was that, dear?" She squeezed down on the distressed fat of your ass, taunting a smile when you whimpered at the pain. "Oh! Would you listen to that, hmm." You were not certain if she had been speaking to you or the bronze skinned woman whose lap you were currently bent over, and you groaned internally. "I didn’t take you for having such a naughty mouth especially when you’re in this position — should I start over?”

Your lips parted as you fervently shook your head, body flinching away from the featherlight caress of Rio’s thumb that made its discreet way to your clit, your slick clinging onto her skin. The searing humiliation at the pleasure the act brought upon, around, and through you made you so fucking wet while Agatha just condescendingly cooed in this deriding tone, her grinning mouth softly skimming your nape, “This hurts, bun?”

Your fingers dug into Rio’s arm, nails slicing into the skin yet she did not seem to mind. Her own digits were now carving into your walls so deeply, in such a fucking leisured pace compared to Agatha’s bolting actions. It caused pained jolts to crawl up your spine, dizzying you because of the contrasts, the differences between their touch, their way of handling you.

“Hey, don’t be so mean to her … I’m sure she’s learned her lesson by now, verdad, mi nena?” ( right, my girl?)

Your thighs constricted together from how desperate they both make you feel, almost pathetic enough to make Rio wanted to chastise you, to tell you to get a grip of yourself or else this little punishment would continue being dragged out, yet she lamented, deeply sighing when her digits slipped out of your tightness. Her head tilted down to press a soft kiss to your dampened temple, voice hushed for you to hear in this moment, "Sweetheart, you gotta keep it together. You know how Agatha gets… just a bit more.”

Yet the octave of your whimpering increased with each second passing, your clutch on Rio’s forearm providing you the little bit of strength to hold yourself up against Agatha’s strikes. However, you did not concede from the two witches. A resilient pretty little thing you were; they admired you for that. They admired more that you were theirs and theirs only.

Your fragile sniffles within the thickening air —accompanied by Rio partaking in dabbing away the tears kissing your waterline — made Agatha’s frown of distaste deepen, the bridge of her nose scrunching in vexation as her heated palm kneaded over your contused ass. There had been inflamed blemishes branded everywhere, all in the shape and form of her palm and her fingers, and her lips parted as she tenderly parted your thighs, grabbing at your cheeks and spreading them so perfectly until both of your glistening slits were winking at her.

"You don’t know her as well as you think then. She apparently hasn’t learned anything. She isn’t going to if you keep buttering her up and playing ‘good cop’," she deadpanned, her touch creeping through your puffy folds, scoffing when you whimpered beneath her. "This is making her wet. Look at this, such a horny little slut, aren’t you?"

Prudently, your chin dipped down before lightly rising again in a nod. "Can't help it, Aggy," you mumbled softly, beseeching doe-eyes lifting to meet with Rio’s dark aligned-brown ones when Agatha’s other hand enveloped your aching hipbone in a bruising grip. You groaned under the rush of pain, then exhaled, and she took this as her opportunity to slap your behind again.

"Oh, but I think you can, bunny." There was an edge to her tone as she loosely curled her fingers into her palm, knuckles brushing against your swollen clit so very lightly, her jaw becoming more prominent at the sound of a moan and an exhale — all sealed in one — leaving you. Her hand which had been on your hip ascended under the subtle shape of your jawline, ivory fingertips prodding into the flesh as heat drummed over it. The position gave her leverage in pulling off of Rio’s thighs and snapping you completely back against her, your front exposed and scrutinized by the Green Witch’s devouring gaze. Rio’s expression was a flawless balance of devilish yet floored from the sight before her, and that sent a tingle spiraling right up your curved spine.

"You were the one who begged me to have another in this —and out of aaall people, you chose that one right there,” Her blue irises shifted and glanced at Rio who, currently puncturing tender-open mouthed kisses to your hip, could not help the smirk forming at Agatha’s involuntarily flushed expression from her other lover’s gaze but tried to minimize it with her hissed out words, “and I sooo generously granted you this — sharing you. Now you've got two of us. And there really shouldn’t be a reason why you should be touching yourself without us. It's one of the rules."

A cry spewed past your lips as Agatha’s hand came down, sharply colliding with your ass, and she let you fall across Rio’s lap once more. Pain spasmed throughout your entire body, electricity crepitating throughout your every fiber as you quivered under her. Your senses rang and blurred, your vision becoming dark and speckled, and you endeavored to blink back the tears cluttering at your lashes as threats of unconsciousness blurred at your borders.

"That’s it … be a good girl and come back to us, pretty bunny."

Agatha’s precious face flooded your mind, and you smiled up at her dumbly, a breeze of air brushing against the raw plump skin of your ass. "Verdant," you faintly breathed out, eyelids fluttering shut at the feel of Rio’s fingers already smoothing over your ass, her lush lips and tongue assisting in soothing the swelling. "Verdant. ’m okay, Aggy, that one was just a bit hard."

Agatha’s brows hitched, and there was a rare gentle beat of hesitation which breezed through the air before her lips pursed, cheekbones accentuating from the pretty action until her lips dominantly, amiably molded against yours. You basked in the intimacy, your stomach tightening as her fingers pressed into the apple of your cheeks, your ass bucking into Rio’s touch.

"Very good girl indeed, preciosa ( precious )," Rio’s words were mumbled against the perspirated skin of your neck, a hiss arising from your throat as she rewarded you by rubbing her fingers over your ass once more. She sculpted the globes with such certainty, taking in the way they shook within her palms before humming — pleased, fulfilled. "I'm proud of you."

"I guess, in a way, she’s learnt her lesson." Agatha affirmed from above you while her fingers tangled into your disheveled strands, the tip of her nose lovingly nuzzling your cheek. She inhaled your inebriating fragrance that coalesced with Rio’s petrichor essence, letting it swirl within her lungs before pulling back, a daring expression sculpting her angular features. “Haven't you, bunny?”

Your lips could not help but stretch into a gorgeous, dazed grin that made the purple witch’s heart accelerate. A sweet kiss converged with the corner of her mouth and your round eyes maintained sincerity and you softly spoke. "I have. No more touching myself without you two."

"Good girl, hon’. You know I hate having to punish you."

Her tone, of course, indicated that she was lying — she was not even making an effort in trying to hide it, given the devilry of a spark in her eyes and the way she smirked down at you and gave you another peck. Though the Green Witch remained silent, her smirk lurking her lips as she leisurely alleviated the burning blaze of your skin, her motions tender and amorous, occasionally letting her touch stray from you to Agatha, just acting upon the urge to touch you and crawl under her skin.

And in truth, you would not have it any other way when it came to being sprawled across either or’s lap.

[oozedninjas]

Can we get Donnie with a breeding kink?!😩

WARNINGS: NSFW | 18+ | MDNI | F!Reader | Donnie is 27 and he wants to put a baby in you ♡ | Breeding | slight Edging | General verses

It amazes him how easily his mind spirals into anxiety when it comes to you. Every little measure has to be carefully calculated and framed to keep him from stumbling out of sync with you—especially with things like this, because, what if you don’t like it? Would you think he’s a weirdo for bringing it up?

Maybe he should let it happen naturally, Donnie thinks, without overanalyzing every detail. But frankly, the thought that he could put a baby inside you is utterly absurd. Improbable. Incoherent, even. Genetic and morphological differences are barriers one can't overcome. Yet… he can’t stop thinking about it.

The idea lodges itself in his mind and he can’t help but revisit it over and over, no matter how much he knows it doesn't make sense; and today, that's all he can think of as he pounds in and out of you, just the way he knows you like it. Steady, fast, hard. The lower half of his plastron grinding over your swollen clit as you cling to him. And he edges you, unable to shake the thought of his mind, not brave enough to let it seep through his mouth.

"Fuck, I wanna come," you manage through staggered breaths, "Please, please,"

He groans, feeling the electric bolts dangerously close to spreading. He grips the sheets, struggling to resist the urge to mention it, and then—

"Put a baby in me,"

It barely registers right after making him come hard and loud. He thrusts as deep as his cock can reach to unload one time after another. He's babbling something about it, but it sounds so choked by pleasure that even he can't discern what it is. He's lost in the sensation of your pretty pussy throbbing as you come with him, and it feels fucking blissful.

You take a few seconds to catch your breath.

"What- what was that? How…" he asks, a bit out of breath.

You let out a little, tired laugh. "I stumbled across your browsing history the other day. You were thinking too hard about it, don't you?"

He hides his face in the crook of your neck, the heat of embarrassment creeping up his neck. Ah, that's right… since you moved together, you use the same computer.

[xoxochb]

hi how about wedding night sex with percy pls ?

UHM fuck yes!!!!

cw: tons of dialogue at the beginning, fingering, implied oral (m! receiving) at the end, not proof read

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“have I told you how beautiful you look yet?”

“I don’t think so.” lie. he told you twenty-one times only today. “why don’t you tell me now?”

percy laughs against your neck before pecking it delicately. his hand fiddles with the top of the zipper belonging to your wedding dress. “you look beautiful. gods, I want to eat you whole.”

“what’s stopping you?” you tease. though you can already presume what he’s going to say.

“this damn dress.” he manages to get a hold on the zipper, dragging it down urgently.

“eager—” your question is cut short by percy’s lips over your own, the action alone eliciting a moan from you.

when he pulls away he speaks, “that’s enough talking for tonight, hm?”

shit weak knees. you let him re-attach his lips with yours as he slips your dress down your body, much to his surprise you’re wearing—

fuck.

“white lingerie?” he nearly breathes out. “for me?”

you shrug mischievously. percy resumes his previous actions until your shed of the white dress, somewhere now on the floor for you to discover in the morning. eagerly, his fingers fiddle with waistband of your lace panties, swiftly dragging them down your legs, you finish this process, kicking the rest off the edge of the bed.

his fingers trail the length of your inner thighs, your breath growing ragged as he reaches closer to your middle, and a shiver at the coldness of his wedding ring against your skin.

“perce, please- can you—” your sentence is cut short by a guttural moan as that same finger trailing your bare skin plugs inside of you without warning.

percy pecks his lips over your clavicle, your neck, back down to your chest and stopped over lace fabric. he pouts at this. you feel his finger reach a deeper length, the metal ring hitting you occasionally, sending a bolt of electricity through you.

you’re not entirely sure where to place your hands at first thought. but you decide if they belong anywhere it would be the raven colored hair of your husband. the mere idea that he’s your husband makes a wide grin veil your face. though when said husband’s finger curls inside you, you can’t help the pleasurable cry that leaves your mouth. the smile doesn’t stray far regardless.

you arch yourself into him, slowly rocking your hips to try and gather more friction if that’s possible. his name exits your red lips more than you’d like, unfortunately, it’s the only thing you can think of at the moment.

“perce- fuck- I-” well for starters you can’t breathe. secondly, it happens that your husband is some sort of sex god.

just when the feeling is growing overstimulating, he inserts a second finger, having you pull harshly at his hair. in response, he only laughs. you feel like you’re going to die now. though you can’t help thinking you’d rather die like this than any other way.

your tummy pools with an inferno-like heat. quickly, your peak creeping upon you like a predator to it’s prey. though the only predator here is perseus jackson who finds joy in pleasuring you until you pass out cold.

when, soon enough, with a singular swipe of his thumb, your orgasm hits you like a freight train. though percy works you through the prolonging of it, whispering quiet sweet nothings into your ear. it only half helps.

slowly, his fingers slide out from inside of you, dripping in your arousal that percy licks them clean of. you don’t try to stop the moan that the simple action causes you to let out.

still breathless and disoriented, you crawl off the bed and drop to your knees at the edge, beckoning percy to sit in front of where you sit kneeling.

“my turn?

yes, indeed it was.

[acotarxreader]

Swept Away

Cassian x Reader, Rhysand's sister

Synopsis: Cassian is growing desperate to make his feelings about you known but Rhysand is ever protective of his little sister.

Warnings: Silly, Angst, pining, blood, a creep in a bar, poor Azriel wing-manning like nobody's business, protective Cassian, overprotective Rhysand

A/N: A Cassian fic because it has been some time since he's been featured on the blog. I hope you guys enjoy this silly lil guy. Please forgive any mistakes in this, I wrote it while not feeling the best.

-------------------------------------------------

Cassian stood at the edge of one of the Windhaven training rings, his two brothers sparring across the mud. To the untrained eye, they looked as though they were gonna kill one another but Cassian knew this was all just goofing around. He felt his heart vibrate off his ribcage, waiting for Rhysand to tire himself out enough that he wouldn’t chase and mangle him for the question he was going to ask. He counted through his breaths, forcing himself to focus on releasing the stress from his chest. They finally stopped their clashing, neither conceding but both ready for dinner, calling a truce as they bellowed out brotherly laughter. 

“Hey Cass, ready for the mixer tonight?” Rhysand wiped his sweaty brow with his forearm, gratefully taking the cup of water offered by Azriel. 

“Oh yeah yeah, very excited, have a good session?” he spoke quickly, eager to get the words out of him before he lost his nerve.

“Definitely, I feel on cloud 9 now”

“Good, good, soooo just letting you know-I’m-going-to-ask-YN-out-tonight-after-the-mixer-okay-bye!” Cassian vibrated out before spinning on his heel and moving to bolt away. 

“Oh fuck” Azriel whispered as Rhysand caught hold of Cassian's shoulder, turning him back to face him. In hindsight, maybe saying this to Rhysand when he was pumped full of testosterone wasn’t the correct call Cassain thought. 

“Sorry Cass, I think I hallucinated, what did you say?” “I’m going to ask YN out”

“No, you’re not” A laugh left Rhysand as he released his shoulder and loosened the belt of blades slung around him. 

“Why not?” Azriel inhaled a breath that sounded like “here we go” at Cassian's question. 

“She’s my sister, so she’s like your sister, it's like illegal or something” Cassian scoffed a laugh at Rhysand’s half-answer.

“Except the four of us aren’t actually siblings and the sentiment is nice and all but I’m not her brother, I want to ask her out, nothing creepy about it” Rhysand’s turn to laugh at Cassian, shoving him back lightly at the words and leaning down to loosen his training boots.

“Nah Cass, forget it, move on, I forbid it”

“You what?” he bit out in return, Azriel’s eyes darting between the two, this was going to turn into another savage argument, he could see it. 

“Right, let's leave it there-” Azriel tried but was almost immediately cut off by Rhysand.

“-Yeah, I forbid it. I don’t want things to get messy”

“They won’t, I think we would be- “-Forget it Cass, enough drama was caused with Mor-” Azriel took a sharp inhale at Rhysand’s low blow, the two males began to square up to one another just as you called from the sidelines. 

“Hey! Come on, start getting ready, have a bath before the smell poisons the flowers” you beamed, raising an eyebrow at Azriel at the weird energy. He just shook his head at you not to get involved. Your gaze separated the two males, both storming away to their quarters. 

“Fuckers always leave me to tidy up” Azriel signed, picking up the kit the three had used in training. 

—---------------------------------------------

The howling Winter wind ripped through the hills of the Illyrian mountains, coursing through Windhaven. You looked out through the living room window of the place you called home in this unforgiving climate.

“YN? Are you okay?” Your brother whispered from the front door as he shook off the biting snow. 

“I’m fine Rhys, how was the mixer?” 

“Unsurprisingly violent-” He laughed, a small smile growing on your face at the sound “-Are you sure you’re okay? You look as though you are going to run away” Rhysand laughed again to cover his rising worry.

“Nothing to concern yourself with Rhys, I’m going to just go read in my room” You tried your best to beam back in your usual way to him, rising from the window seat and wandering to your room down the hall. Rhysand questioned whether or not he should follow you, deciding to return to bed and inquire further in the morning.

You stared up at the ceiling, the clock yearning to strike midnight as you sighed. You quietly strapped on your shoes and sheathed yourself in your thickest jacket. You ever so gently lifted the sash window of your ground-level room and slipped out into the night, knowing your brother and mother would go feral with the knowledge of you going into the Illyrian camp unattended at night, despite your own strength. 

You moved through the shadows of the grey mountain stone buildings, dipping out of the sight of passing party-worn Illyrians until you found yourself wandering down the disused service lane heading in the direction of the closest village. The chill sent shapes of cold down your spine as you fought the feeling of watching wild eyes from the deep thick woods the lane cut through. Your wings clung tight to your back trying to draw any ounce of warmth possible. You stopped and stretched before launching into your routine jogging trailing along the outskirts of the busy village, a relaxed breath releasing the stress.

Swirled in your own deep thoughts, the sudden weight thrown into your side caught you entirely off guard as you instinctively screamed. A hand wrapped tightly around your jaw preventing further alarm from being raised in your desperate shouts.

The wooded path grew thicker and thicker the further you were hauled into the woods, worst-case scenarios dancing across your mind. The movement suddenly stopped as you felt the solid thud of the body of a tree meeting your back, you forced your eyes open to meet your perpetrator. 

“Boo”

“GODS! YOU FUCKING JERK CASSIAN!” You pushed Cassian backwards and almost off his feet while lashing him with your hands into his shoulder blades while he hunched over howling laughing. 

“Your face!” he managed between laughs, half choking.

“Don’t do that to me! I thought it was one of the trainee warriors trying to earn his stripes!”

“Don't even joke about that YN, I’d kill them where they stood” his suddenly serious tone cut through you before you smiled at him. Cassian seemingly remembered the fright he gave you, returning to his laughter as you both strolled back towards the path. 

“I’ll walk you back YN, protect you from-”

“-From psychopaths who might sweep me away into the woods?!” you cut across him, now both laughing into the freezing night. 

“Why are you out so late anyway? Your mother and Rhys would be very unhappy with you”

“I could say the same to you” You raised an eyebrow to the warrior.

“I had business, I care not to go further into it with a Lady” he faux bowed towards you, gaining an eye-roll from you.

“Seriously YNN, what’s with the twilight running?”

“Nothing really”

“Tell me or I’ll start singing” You gave a sceptical look towards your dear friend before he took a deep inhale and belted half a note of pure torture, your hand covering his mouth at the release of the crow song. 

“Okay okay!” You laughed, pulling back your hand “-I was actually… I was actually thinking of going home to Velaris” You admitted, ending the momentary comfortable silence that bounced off the ancient trees. Cassian pursed his lips in thought, trying his best to not show all his cards, a futile attempt. 

“This is why we can’t be together YNN, so hung up on the glitz and glamour of city life, can't appreciate the wild” 

“I’m pretty sure the reason we can't be together is that I don’t like you” Cassain put his hand to his chest feigning hurt, you scoffed at your long-time friend before continuing along the path.

“No more nightly running alone YN, seriously dangerous especially for precious cargo like a High Lord's daughter, someone might take you as their chance to prove themselves and then I’ll have to commit murder and I don’t like my leathers to get messy” he ran a hand through his hair as you fought the urge to shove him again. 

“Aw you think I’m precious” you sarcastically shot back

“The most precious thing we have in this dump” his sincere tone ringing through you.

“We'll leave here someday Cass, get on with our real lives”

“We?”

“Well yeah I'm going to need someone to carry my bags” you smirk and he nudges you across the snowy path.

“Can't leave my partner in crime behind me now can I?” His genuine smile of gratitude made you feel warm. He always did. No one could quite understand him like you. The subtle glow of the training camp in the far distance came into view and you sighed at the sight. 

“Come on Cass, come get a drink in the village, I don’t want to head back just yet” he nodded to your great idea as you looped your arm through his for warmth and sauntered back towards the village. 

—----------------------

The village bar was heaving with Fae, all deeply relying on the crutch of alcohol to soothe their woes. You attempted to play snooker with Cassian, well beyond the scope of your ability. After playing and losing a few rounds with him, you sat at the bar away from his ridicule, allowing him to play more challenging opponents.

You sat cross-legged on the bar stool absent-mindedly tracing circles along the rim of your glass of caramel colour liquor. A rough hand found its way to your thigh, snapping your attention to the wall-like Fae it belonged to. 

“He-y it's the Night’s se-xy daughteeer, hey baaaby” The slur of words matched the smothering stench of centuries of whiskey leaving his wrinkled mouth. 

“Um Hi” You pushed his hand down roughly before it returned just as quickly and much higher, now squeezing your thigh making you tense. The much older Fae came closer to your face, leaning and whispering drunken inappropriate schemes in your ear. You scoffed in utter disgust, shoving him completely back from you. 

“Hey Prin-cess, you don’t fucking do that! Come here!” He almost spat at you, roughly catching you by the waist and pulling you off the stool. His fingers buried into your skin and you found it difficult to slip out of his vice-grip-like hands.

A hand laid flat on his shoulder from behind as he grunted to being interrupted. He turned to meet Cassian fist straight into his glass jaw sending him cold to the floor. You found yourself gasping, no one else reacting in the busy bar used to Illyrian antics. 

“Cassian!”

“Come on, we’re going” he caught your wrist and pulled you from the bar, stepping over the creep's body as you were pulled along. You hurriedly slipped on your jacket, the freezing breeze of the night burning your skin as you were pulled into the baltic night.

“Cass, slow down, you're going to take my arm out of the socket” you groaned at the slight pain he was causing you as you found it difficult to keep up with his rapid pace back down the service lane. 

“Such a fucking asshole”

“I was handling it Cass!”

“Oh yeah YN, really looked like that” you huffed at his sarcasm, anger growing in both of you the further you got from the bar. 

“Get off my case fucking hell”

“He could have run off with you”

“So?! What does it even matter to you?! Seriously Cass, slow down, you're not racing a Naga!”

“It does matter to me! I don’t want some ancient creep all over you” Cassian continued his marching in front of you, your wrist firmly caught. 

“You're the same when any male talks to me! You’re worse than Rhys!” You were sick of it, sick of being treated like some wounded bird they needed to protect, the thought caused the anger to grow in Cassian.

“THAT'S BECAUSE I DON'T WANT ANY MALE TALKING TO YOU LIKE THAT!”

“WHY!? WHY THE FUCK DOES IT MATTER YOU!” Cassian suddenly dug his heels into the snow causing you to crash into the back of him giving you a bit of a fright. Cassian span around, releasing your wrist in exchange for your hips, your hands instinctively draping across his shoulders as he pulls you forward in the falling snow to meet your lips hungrily. The cold was leached from your bodies as you basked in the glow of one another. 

“Cass you just kissed me”

“I just kissed you” You both had shock painting your faces before locking eyes and reconnecting hungrily again. 

“If anyone touches you like that again I’ll kill them” You nodded quickly to his protective stern words, kissing him deeply again. 

“Ahem” Azriel’s voice separated you both as he stood with hands on his hips glaring at the two of you, clearly having just been out for his own run along the service lane. 

“Az-” He only raised a gloved hand to you. 

“I don’t want to know any of the goings on between you two, ever, it will make me an accessory to a murder when Rhysand finds out” You both nodded slowly in reply before Azriel dragged a hand down his face. 

“Now, the three of us are going to walk home and the three of us will never speak about this again” Azriel continued, gesturing with his arm for you to walk ahead. You looked from Cassian to the Shadowsinger who only raised an eyebrow, you sighed before following his direction and walking ahead of the two. 

“You’re a dead man Cass” Azriel whispered once you were out of earshot.

“I know” “What is with you and their family, next thing you’ll be sleeping with Rhysand’s mother” “How do you know that didn’t already happen” Cassian was fighting for his life to bring back an air of silliness to the night and Azriel happily obliged, shoving his smirking brother across the path. 

“This is different Az” he rejoined his side quickly. 

“I know, it’s always been different between you two, doesn’t mean your funeral will be any less of a sure thing” The Shadowsinger smirked.

—-----------------------

The next couple of weeks became like a full-time job for Azriel and he wasn’t sure exactly when he had interviewed for the job. He spent a large amount of his free time running interference for you and Cassian, distracting Rhysand to allow you both to steal away moments together. It was beginning to exhaust him not to mention sicken him that he spent so much time focusing on Cassian’s love life that he forgot his own. 

The four of you sat around the corner table of the very tavern that three months previously you had been pursued. Azriel sat next to Rhysand as if by chance but very much planned so that you and Cassian may sit next to each other. 

“So anyways we’ve been sleeping together for some time now but I think it’s time to cut her loose-” Rhysand beamed at the telling of his conquests while you fought the urge to roll your eyes at your brother's hypocrisy “-What about you Cass? Any lovely ladies on the go?” Rhysand innocently questioned before taking a deep drink.

“Ehh yeah I suppose you could say that” Your chin sank to your chest, attempting to bury the wide grin on your face. 

“Well go on, tell us about her” Rhysand pried, Azriel’s eyes trying to find anywhere else to look at other than the red on Cassian’s cheeks” “I don’t think-” “-Oh come on Cass, since when have you been coy about your conquests?”

“Cauldron boil me” Azriel whispered under his breath, your foot sharply meeting his shin.

“I just think I should keep that private” Cassian spoke over Azriels audible pain. “From me? I heard you tell Azriel that you never wanted to leave the bed with this mystery female, so how come I’m not privy to the information?” You took a deep swig at your brother's playful prying, wishing the ground to swallow you up.

“I just don’t think you’d want to hear about-” “-I clearly do, tell me, tell me about this so-called best sex you’ve ever had, how you make her c-” “-For all that is good and Gods given Rhysand please do not finish that sentence!” Azriel cut across quickly as you inhaled your drink, choking slightly. Cassian rapidly tapped your back as Azriel and Rhysand began to bicker. 

“Are you okay?” Cassian whispered to you, searching your greying face for colour as it flushed back to your cheeks. He took your hand softly under the table, his thumb sending soothing circles across your skin. You looked up to Cassian with your glassy eyes, a small smile growing on your face at the look of adoration you received. The two of you looked quickly then to the silence that leaked from the other side of the table. Rhysand looked between the two of you, his own face now looking like he had been the one starved of air. Azriel covered his eyes with a hand, trying to think of any way to come back from this and what was about to happen. The table fell to an almost unnerving silence as Rhysand processed in real time before an equally unnerving laugh left him. 

“Oh no no no no” he shook his head while laughing, you glancing worriedly to Cassian at your brother's seemingly newfound deliria. 

“Rhysand…” You tried but your brother just kept shaking his head while laughing. 

“Oh no no no no” His laugh only got louder, Azriel daring to look at the Son of Night from behind his hand. 

“I’d say you have a 15-second head start” Azriel whispered across the table to Cassian who looked bewildered at the reaction. Rhysand rolled up his sleeves, his laughing continuing as he took a deep drink from his tall glass. 

“Maybe 10 seconds” Azriel added, Cassian needing no further invitation to bolt away. He made it as far as the edge of the village before Rhysand came in hot from behind him, you and Azriel trailing desperately. 

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Rhysand bellowed, tackling Cassian to the ground as they rolled in the slush of the last snow of Winter. 

“Rhys stop!” You went to separate them, Azriel pulling you back to his side. 

“Just, just leave them go YNN” he sighed, knowing this was years in the making. The two warriors rolled, Rhysand attempting to deliver blows that Cassian blocked. 

“Rhys-I’m-sorry!” Cassian managed through dodges. 

“My sister!” 

“Yes! Your sister! But my love! I love her!” Cassian rasped out, Rhysand’s hand finding his brother's throat as he gained the upper hand from above him. Rhysand released an ounce of pressure he had on the Illyrian before shooting a glance at you, a clear look of horror on your face. Rhysand allowed all the air from his lungs go before standing again, Cassian attempted to stand, only to meet the floor again with a shove from the future High Lord. He stayed down, thinking that was the best port of call.

“YN, really?” “Really” You found your own confidence, striding over the Cassian to meet his side on your knees. 

“How long?” 

“Three…almost four months” You admitted to your brother, pulling bits of moss from Cassian’s hair. 

“Four months?! And no one had any idea?” Azriel averted his eyes at Rhysand’s questioning. 

“We just wanted to see if it was serious before stressing you out Rhys” Cassain ran a sleeve over his bloodied lip. 

“And this is-this is serious? You’re not just fucking around Cassian because I swear to the Gods I will-” “-This isn’t fucking around Rhys, I love her” Cassian interrupted Rhysand’s worry. He wandered in a small circle, arms behind his back as he tilted his chin to the stars once again, taking a deep breath of the changing seasonal air. 

“Okay” Rhysand finally rocked his head back down to look at the two of you. 

“Just to say Rhys, I don’t care if you are okay or not with this, I love Cassian too and I don’t care if you are okay with it-” “-YN” Cassian dragged out your name like a whining child who was trying to stop the class pet from reminding the teacher about a test. 

“But, thank you” You kissed the top of Cassian’s head, his lip stitching together from the blowout.

“Oh Gods don’t do that in front of me!” Rhysand looked to the sky, the two of you laughing up at him. 

“Oh please Rhys, that’s nothing, these two would make you sick” Azriel laughed before the smile completely fell from his face. 

“You knew?” Rhysand glared towards the Shadowsinger.

“I ehh-” “You knew and you didn’t tell me?”

“I’d say you have a 15-second head start my friend” Cassian laughed up from the slush-turned mud. Azriel gave a panicked laugh before meeting Rhysand’s serious eyes. 

“He’s the one doing your sister!” “Az! Traitor” You chuckled, Rhysand still not removing his eyes from Azriel until he shot off into the woods, Rhysand hot on his heels. You helped Cassian to stand again before walking hand in hand in the direction of home, happy to have that weight off your chests and happier to hold one another's weight in your arms. 

--------------------------------------------

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

what’s your favorite scary movie?

summary: porn star eddie is doing a halloween film with his costar, one that involves a certain mask.

pairing: porn star eddie x porn star reader

word count: 5.9k

warnings: being filmed, daddy kink, use of a realistic plastic knife (nothing weird with it, though), unprotected sex, creampies, choking, brief oral sex (m & f receiving), mentions of anal, breast play, anal fingering (f receiving), degradation, rough sex, kinda dubcon

a/n: im aware halloween is over, but its always Halloween in my mind! also, sorry if anything like this has been done. I just returned to tumblr, and haven’t read many fics here in like 8-9 months.

18+ ONLY. minors do not interact or follow, or you’re getting blocked.

————————————-

Ring! Ring!

The phone next to you was ringing its familiar ringtone, and you looked at it with an eye roll. Unknown number, typical. You were acting the part of someone who didn’t like spam calls, but you hated them just as much in real life, too. You turned your attention back to the TV, ready to forget all about it and delete any voice mail they may leave, when it began to ring again. The same number popped up, and you killed the call. They called again, and again, and after the fifth time, you’d finally had enough.

“What do you want?” you asked irritably.

“y/n,” a deep voice came over the phone. “How nice to catch you.”

“Who is this?” you asked. 

“That doesn’t matter,” he said, and you could hear a grin in his voice. “I was lonely, and thought I would give you a call.”

“Very funny,” you said. “Tell me who you are.”

“What’s the fun of that?” he asked. “Isn’t mystery supposed to be more fun?”

“Is it?” you asked. “You’re probably just someone I know, trying to play some kind of weird joke.”

“Am i?” he asked. “I don’t think I know you at all.”

“Then how did you know my name and my number?” you asked. “Answer me that.”

“Maybe I have my own methods,” he said. “Ever think of that?”

“Ha ha,” you said with an eye roll. You hung up, but the same number called again and you picked up. “Yes?”

“That wasn’t very wise of you,” he said dangerously. “You didn’t even let me ask my questions.”

“They’re probably something really fucking gross,” you said. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Now, now,” he said, tsking. “What do you take me for?”

“A pervert,” you said.

“You’re right,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “But that isn’t why I’m calling you.”

“No?” you asked with a chuckle. “Coulda fooled me.” 

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” he asked, and you could almost hear the grin in his voice.

“What the fuck?” you asked, sitting up on the couch. “What kind of question is that?”

“Are you going to answer it?”

“No, now goodbye–”

“Hang up again, and you’ll regret it.”

The threatening tone of his voice gave you pause. “Who is this?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” he asked again.

“Whatever,” you said, and dared to hang up. It didn’t last long until he called again, and you rolled your eyes as you answered. “What?!”

“I’m sorry for disturbing you,” he said. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“I’m not gonna entertain you,” you said. “You’re a fucking creep.”

“Just answer my question and I’ll leave you alone,” he said.

“Fine,” you said with a sigh. “I really like Psycho, Halloween, Friday the 13th, The Exorcist.”

“I know you like Friday the 13th,” he said, and he laughed evilly on the other end. “I can see that you’re watching it right now.”

You froze, sitting bolt upright. “What did you just say?”

“Never mind that,” he said. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No..” you answered automatically, looking around the darkness of your windows for any signs of life. “How do you know what I’m watching…?”

“Just a guess,” he said.

You got up and turned on all the lights, looking around again to see if you could spot someone. “Look, I need to go–”

“Don’t hang up,” he nearly shouted.

“Look, this isn’t funny or cute anymore,” you said. “I’m really uncomfortable, so if you could please–”

“You look really sexy in your pretty lingerie,” he said. “I mean, I think that’s what it is. You’re wearing that pretty pink babydoll with a thong. You like to tease people, y/n? That isn’t very nice.”

“Fuck you, creep,” you said.

“You didn’t ask what my favorite scary movie is,” he said.

“I don’t care!” you cried. “Leave me alone!”

“It’s The Strangers,” he said, and you could swear his voice sounded different now. More echo, closer somehow. “You know, that movie where those people break into that house.”

“I’m–” you began, and your back collided with someone as you backed away. 

You played the part of terrified really well, and you could see the cameraman giving you a thumbs up as you kept the facade. You turned around slowly, shouting in surprise when you came face to face with a man in a mask. He was in all black, and the rest of his mask was black as well, except for the face. It looked like a ghost, its mouth agape in some kind of eternal shock. In his hand was a knife, but you knew it wasn’t a real one. It was plastic that was made to look like the real deal, something the director found at a joke shop for a little bit of nothing. You shrieked and tried to run away, but he grabbed you and held you against his back as he stroked your hair in a near-loving gesture.

“Shh,” he said in your ear, trailing the knife down your arm. “It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Could have fooled me,” you said, feeling yourself already starting to get wet as you felt him hardening against your ass. “Why are you here, then?”

“I was hoping maybe I’d get lucky,” he purred, moving the knife between your breasts as you shivered. “You’re so much hotter up close.”

“And what do YOU look like under that thing?” you asked, your voice conveying the whole “stall him” vibe that the director wanted you to go for. “It’s not really fair that you see me and I can’t see you. If you’re really not gonna hurt me, then why won’t you show me?”

“I’ll show you,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “If you do one thing for me.”

“What?” you asked, turning your head so that you could look at him slightly. 

“Show me those pretty, perfect tits,” he said in your ear, running the knife between them again. “Outside of that baby doll.”

“And what would you do for me in return?” you asked, turning around in his grip and looking into that mask. “Let me live?”

“Maybe,” he said, looking you up and down. “But first, I’ll just show you my face if you do. Let’s start there, yeah?”

You smirked at him, lowering the thin straps of the baby doll and biting your lip. “You’re probably some total asshole under there. I mean, who calls random women at nine on a Friday night, stalks them, then breaks into their house?”

“Keep going,” he said, his eyes on your breasts. “Show me.”

“You’re a real pervert, you know that?” you said.

“And look what you’re doing,” he said smugly. “Giving into me.”

“You came here to kill me,” you said. “I know that to be true, but it seems like you changed your mind. Why?”

“Because why would I waste such a good set of tits?” he asked. “And I know that pussy of yours is also perfect.”

You swallowed, but smirked as you pulled the baby doll down. You exposed your breasts to him, and heard him suck in a breath. That wasn’t scripted; it was his genuine reaction. You bit your lip again, smiling as you stood before him. He took the knife and dragged it over one erect nipple, causing you to shiver and moan slightly. That also wasn’t scripted or an act, and you knew that whatever happened from this point onward, it was going to be genuine. Well, aside from the basic acts they wanted you to perform on each other, but the reactions? It would be all you, and him. 

“Like what you see?” you asked, shaking them a bit as he groaned.

“Fuck yes,” he said, his ringed hands coming up to grope them. You moaned a little, head tipping slightly as he massaged them in his hands. “I guess I need to hold up my end of the bargain, too, huh?”

“Mmm hmm,” you said, mewling as he gave your nipples a soft pinch. “Shit…”

He stepped back, and you whined at the loss of contact. He lifted the mask with one hand, revealing his face underneath. You acted as though you were surprised to see just how sexy he really was, and his pierced tongue came out between his lips with a devils-horn gesture at the top of his head. You smiled, moving closer to him and running your hands down his chest as he looked you up and down again. Soon, he was grabbing your head forcefully, and drawing your lips to his in a passionate, hard kiss. It turned sloppy, your hands wandering and his, too, finding purchase on your hips as he squeezed. Your tongue played with his piercing, and you could feel the presence of the cameraman in front of you both as you made out. One hand tangled in his hair, the other palming the big bulge that was forming in the front of his pants. His hands came up, grabbing your breasts hard as you moaned into his mouth. He tugged your lower lip between his teeth, moving away to start kissing down your neck. 

“You feel so big,” you breathed, mewling as his teeth found your sweet spot. “Fuck…”

“You have no idea,” he said, pulling your body to his before grabbing your ass. “I want you so bad.”

“Come on,” you said, taking his hand and leading him into the living room. You pushed him down on the couch, straddling his lap before grinding against his dick. “You know what I want you to do?”

“What?” he panted. 

“Want you to rip this thing off of me,” you said in his ear, tugging the lobe in your teeth. 

“Oh?” he asked, grabbing the back of it and tearing it down the middle. “Like that?”

“Mmm hmm,” you hummed, kissing his neck as he moaned. “And I want you to put the mask back on.”

“Okay,” he said, smirking before his face disappeared beneath the Ghostface mask again. 

“You know what else I want?” you asked, moaning as you continued to glide along his clothed erection.

“Hm?”

“I want that big, thick cock down my throat.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

You could hear the smirk in his voice, and it would have infuriated you under any other circumstances. Right then, though, you were too turned on to care. You moved from your spot on his lap to slide to your knees, keeping your eyes on him as you did so. You palmed the bulge in his pants again, feeling how hard he was and suppressing a moan. He watched you from beneath the mask, both of his arms stretched along the back of the couch as you pulled his pants down. His breathing picked up a bit as you put your mouth over his cock through his boxers, and soon, you were pulling those down, too. He was exposed to you now, all nine inches of his thick, pierced, flushed erection at your mercy. As per the script, you teased him a little, sucking on his piercing before swirling your tongue around his slit. He mewled, panting as you took the tip in your lips and sucked eagerly. His arms remained on the back of the couch, not moving yet as you started planting messy, noisy, open mouthed kisses all over the entire length of his cock. You moved farther down to take his big balls into your mouth as well, sucking on them with a moan as you jerked him off skillfully. He was panting a little more heavily now, and you traced his large vein with your tongue as you made your way back up his length.

“Don’t fucking tease me,” he growled.

“Sorry, uh…” you said. “I don’t know what to call you.”

“You can call me Daddy,” he said, reaching down with one hand to stroke your cheek. “And what shall I call you, huh?”

“Anything you want,” you said with a wink, spitting on his cock and jerking him off. “Such a big dick, fuck.” 

“What did I say about teasing?” he asked, tilting your chin up with the knife.

“Sorry, Daddy,” you said, opening your mouth and taking his entire cock.

You gagged for a moment until you got your reflex under control, which was something you’d gotten good at in the business. You could feel him in your throat, stretching, his piercing at the back of it as you drug your head up, then back down. He was moaning above you under the mask, his head tipped back as he tangled a hand in your hair. You looked up at him, bobbing your head slowly as you gripped his base in one hand. You began to jerk him off in time with your movements, ignoring the camera man as he came around to get some close up shots. It felt as if he wasn’t even there, that’s how into it you were starting to get. You could feel your pussy throbbing, wetness settling in the thong you still wore as you sucked him off.

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, tugging on your hair as you hollowed your cheeks. “You’re so fucking good at that. You’re a filthy little cock slut, aren’t you? I mean, who else just gets on her knees for a man she’s just met, especially one who broke into her house to hurt her?”

You responded by twisting your wrist, eyes still on him as you sucked him off messily. Drool cascaded from his dick and onto the floor below, and your throat was starting to hurt a bit from his piercing. But he was so hot, THIS was so hot, and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. His hips bucked upward with a loud moan, and you choked as more of his cock went down your throat again. He stroked your cheek tenderly, before yanking you off of his dick. Spit bridged your lips to the tip, and you looked up at him in surprise. Was this scripted? You couldn’t quite remember, but either way, it sent a fresh wave of arousal to your cunt.

“Rub my dick across your tits,” he said. 

“Those are one of my biggest insecurities,” you replied, but did as he asked as he moaned filthily. “But you like them, huh?”

“Fuck yes,” he panted, watching as you sucked his tip again. “You’re so hot.”

“Thanks,” you said, and you continued to alternate between rubbing his dick over your breasts and sucking him off. After a little while, he forced you to stop by grabbing your jaw. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up,” he growled. “Did I say I was ready to cum yet?”

“No, Daddy,” you said, reaching out to jerk him off. “But I can’t stop worshipping this huge, perfect dick of yours.”

He grabbed your wrist and pinned it to the couch, causing you to whine. “Let me make you feel good.”

“You already did,” he said, grabbing your spit-soaked chin in one hand and forcing you to look up into his mask. “Now, it’s my turn.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to take him into your mouth again, but you were greeted by a light slap to your cheek. “What?”

“I said stop it,” he said, pushing you away as he got up off the couch. “Sit up here for me.”

You whined, but did as he said. You sat down on the couch, watching as he lifted the mask again. He kissed you hungrily, sloppily, one ringed hand squeezing your jaw before it found your throat. He choked you for a moment, and you moaned as his hands found your breasts. He massaged them skillfully, his rings cold against your heated skin, his fingers rubbing your nipples until they were hard buds. He pinched them, tugged on them, swiped his fingers across them, all while you moaned hotly in his mouth. He grabbed his plastic knife, running it over & between your breasts before dragging it over your waist and stomach. 

“I’m going to show you just what I’m capable of,” he said, kissing down your neck after leaving a series of hickeys in his wake. He nipped at your collarbones, before he found your breasts. “You have the hottest body I’ve ever fucking seen.”

“All the other girls you broke in on weren’t as hot, huh?” you asked.

“Not even close,” he said, pulling one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking generously. “Such an amazing set of tits.”

“Fuck…” you whined, one hand in his hair as he tugged your nipple in his teeth. You knew the cameraman was probably getting a pretty good shot with that; Eddie was skilled, he knew what he was doing and how to work a woman’s body. You were reacting to him, wetness pooling in your thong, and you spread your legs for him as you grabbed one of his hands. “I want you to touch me. Please, I need it.”

“So needy, princess,” he said, giving your other nipple the same treatment as the last. He drug the knife down, running it over your cunt as he smirked. “I’ll bet you’re soaking wet for me, aren’t you? You’re such a depraved fucking slut, you know that? Putting out for me like this, soaking that pretty thong for me.”

“Touch me the right way and find out, asshole,” you challenged, and you could feel him grinning against your breast. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he said, smiling up at you as he started to kiss his way down your stomach. They weren’t gentle, tender kisses; they were needy, hard, bruising. You knew you’d have some marks there tomorrow. “Just that you think it’s so funny and cute to be calling me names right now, when I’ve got the upper hand.” 

“Who says you’ve got the upper hand?” you asked, and he slapped your thigh hard as you yelped. “You didn’t have to do that!”

“Shut up,” he snarled, kneeling in front of you and spreading your legs as wide as they would go. He peeled off your thong, and the cameraman moved behind him to get a shot of your pussy. “Fuck, look at that. So fucking pretty and so goddamn wet.”

“I can’t help it,” you said, shivering as he ran the knife over your bare cunt. “Daddy…”

“I’m going to make you fucking scream, baby,” he said, and he immediately began to devour you.

You had never been eaten out like that before, either off camera or on. The way his pierced tongue moved through your cunt, so skillful and hungry, had you moaning loudly. You usually had to fake your moans, or at the very least, over exaggerate them. Not now; right now, every single noise that fell from your lips was genuine. He was devouring you, his tongue flicking your clit with every drag upward, his hands gripping your thighs tight enough to leave more bruises. You reached down to grab his hair, and he moaned as you pulled it roughly. His piercing dragged through your saturated folds, slowly and teasingly, before he pressed it tightly against your clit. More wetness soaked his face, and his fingers soon joined the mix. The cameraman was getting some great shots, and Eddie began to fuck you roughly on his fingers while his mouth did its magic.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” you gasped, rutting against his face as you clenched around his fingers. “I need more.”

“More?” he asked, his free hand dragging the knife over your thigh. “How much more? I’m giving you all I can, you greedy whore.”

“I want more,” you insisted, your eyes nearly rolling back as he started sucking on your clit. “Please…”

“Is this what you want?” he asked, gathering some of your wetness on the fingers of his free hand and pushing a finger inside of your ass. “Huh?”

“Yes,” you gasped, looking down into his big brown eyes as he started to eat your pussy again. “Fuck, please…”

He took his fingers out of your cunt, instead focusing on your ass. He shook his head back & forth rapidly, growling, his eyes still trained on your face. You kept looking down at him, playing with your breasts as his tongue swirled your clit. You tugged your nipples, and soon he was slapping your hand away with his free one to take over. He squeezed it, massaging it, pinching the nipple as hard as he could. You cried out, and you could feel the familiar sensation in your lower stomach that indicated an orgasm was imminent. He kept going, lapping at your pussy as if his life depended on it, shaking his head occasionally, using his piercing to his advantage. He began to fuck you on his tongue as he fingered your ass, moaning as more of your taste flooded his tongue.

“So fucking good,” he mumbled, moaning as he reached down to jerk himself off. “I’m going to fucking cum just from eating your pussy.”

“I’d rather you cum inside of me,” you said. “I wanna feel that big dick in my tight, wet pussy right now. Wanna feel you pumping me full of cum, and feel how good you are inside of me. Please.”

“You’d rather cum around my dick?” he asked, raising a brow at you.

“Mmm hmm,” you said. “But you gotta put the mask back on.”

“Tired of my face already?” he teased, pulling his finger out and putting the mask back on. “Alright, have it your way. How do you want me to fuck you?”

“From behind,” you said.

“Just like a disgusting fucking whore, huh?” he asked, slapping your ass as you stood up. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good, baby.”

“Then do it,” you said. “Stop talking about it and just do it already, asshole.”

He slapped your ass hard, leaving a large red handprint in his wake. You yelped but giggled, wiggling your ass toward him as he spanked it again. He held the knife to your throat, pulling you up by your head as his mouth found your ear. You could feel his giant cock throbbing against your ass, and knew he was close already. But if everything you heard about his reputation was true, you knew that didn’t mean anything. He could apparently hold off for quite awhile, even that close, and you were looking forward to having him inside of you. In fact, you needed it more than you ever needed anything. You were tired of doing films with men who had average or below average dicks; they didn’t do anything for you, and you always had to fake it. But with Eddie? You highly doubted you would have that problem.

“Keep calling me that and I’ll slit your fucking throat,” he said in your ear, pressing the hard plastic a little more firmly to your throat. “You’re in no position right now to be a fucking bitch.”

“I think I am,” you said, grinning smugly at him as you pushed back against his cock. “You’ve got me right where you want me, right? So, instead of making empty threats and being a douchebag, why don’t you just fuck me?”

He slapped your ass hard again, dragging the knife across your throat ever so gently. “You’re fucking lucky I think you’re so hot. Otherwise, I would be ending this right fucking now by cutting you wide open.”

“Fuck me already!” you said. “You’re–”

You were cut off by a loud moan as you felt him pushing inside of you. You cried out as his thick length stretched your pussy, and you could feel his piercing deep inside. He held onto your hips to anchor himself, bending you over the couch as he pushed himself deeper. You nearly screamed as you felt that piercing on your cervix, but it hurt so good. You reached down and squeezed his hand, and you could tell that he was trying hard not to break character to hold your hand. He had to know how it felt, and you could tell that he was holding back, even still. The director seemed not to notice, though; he just instructed his cameraman to get a shot of his cock buried deep inside of your pussy. He was almost fully inside, and it took you a minute to adjust to how it felt. Never had you been this full, never had anything felt so good, and you weren’t sure how long YOU would be able to last. He was moaning behind you, and you felt his dick twitch. That caused you to moan filthily, and you looked behind your shoulder into his masked face, a smirk on your own.

“What are you waiting for, Daddy?” you asked, biting your lip. “Fuck me.”

He started to thrust, keeping them slow and shallow at first. The cameraman looked up questioningly, and the director simply shrugged and instructed him to keep filming. You moaned, feeling that piercing against your cervix again with every movement inward. He kept hold of your hips, and soon, he was fucking you a little harder. You knew that he was making sure you were okay first, something that he seemingly didn’t do with any of his other costars. Maybe he found a soft spot for you, or maybe the rest of them were used to taking dicks his size. Either way, you thought the gesture of going off script was rather touching, and you looked back at him with a smile. You couldn’t tell if he was reciprocating, but the sharp thrust inside of you somehow told you that he was.

“You’re so fucking tight and wet,” he said, starting to absolutely DRILL you as you nearly screamed. “Listen to that, can you hear it?”

You could. As he fucked into you harder, you could hear just how wet you truly were for him. His fingers dug into your skin, his breath in your ear, and you just moaned as you clenched hard around him. That caused him to groan, and you smirked as you did it again. This brought another loud crack to your ass, and you yelped as the knife made another appearance at your throat.

“Stop doing that,” he growled. “You needy bitch.”

“Sorry,” you said, but did it again.

He stopped thrusting, putting the knife down to grab your throat with his hands. He choked you for a moment, chuckling darkly as you kept clenching around him. He began to move again but kept his grip, letting go only when you started clawing at his hands. He reached around to grope your breasts, rubbing the nipples as he absolutely pounded you against the couch. He was panting and groaning, the sounds filling the air as the cameraman got another shot of him fucking into you. You could feel your lower stomach tightening, but you weren’t ready for this to be over yet. Fuck, he felt so goddamn good; you never wanted it to end. You would have been content going on forever just like this, with him inside of you as you whined desperately. He knew you were getting desperate, too; he reached down, rubbing your clit in hard, fast circles as you cried out. You clenched again, his hands now on your shoulders as you braced against the couch. He drilled your needy, soaking cunt, each bump to your cervix causing you to moan even louder.

“Cum for me,” he said. “Show me just how much you fucking love what I’m doing to you. Show me what a greedy whore you are for my cock.”

You moaned, and were shocked to see that he was pulling out of you. The director was about to intervene, but Eddie was pushing you onto your back on the couch. He lifted your legs to his shoulders and pushed inside of you again, causing you to moan hotly as he filled you up again. The director stopped and instructed the cameraman to keep going, and you looked up into his masked face with a look of pleasure on yours. You arched under him, writhing, your hands finding his clothed back and digging your nails into the fabric. He pounded you hard, the new angle causing him to hit into your sweet spot. He didn’t use his entire cock this time; instead, he decided to get creative, and fucked directly into your G-spot. The feel of the piercing against it was so fucking good, and you tore at his dark shirt as he pounded against you.

“That’s it,” he cooed, the strokes of his cock remaining shallow and deep as your mouth fell slack. “Cum around my cock, princess.”

“Fuck,” you whined, your jaw still open as your head tipped back. “I’m gonna cum so hard, Daddy.”

“Cum for me,” he coaxed, his fingers rubbing hard circles on your clit again. “Do it for me. Show me how desperate you are to let some stranger fuck you like this.”

Tears began to leak out of your eyes. They weren’t bad; it was just so much, so overwhelming. You could tell that he was having doubts, so you sat up slightly to bury your face in his neck. He groaned, thrusting harder before pushing you back down. He pinned you to the couch, both of his large hands holding you down as he mercilessly pounded you. More tears leaked from your eyes, and he laughed wickedly under the mask.

“What’s wrong?” he taunted. “Is my dick too big for you, you disgusting slut? Can’t take it all?”

“No, i can,” you said, trying to get out of his grip. 

“Then take it and cum for me,” he coaxed, fucking you as hard as he could. “Go ahead, show me you can do it.”

It didn’t take much more for you to cum. A few more strokes of his cock, a few more swipes with his fingers, and that was it. You screamed in pleasure, and none of that was exaggerated or fake, either. You squirted around him twice, and the director was staring in awe as the cameraman caught everything. You kept arching, moaning, bucking up against him as he continued to pound into you. He was panting above you under the mask, moaning as you felt him twitch inside of you. He was fighting hard to keep going, but you knew he was going to lose that fight very soon. You reached down and took his knife, holding it up with a smirk.

“You wanna hold this to my throat again?” you asked. “Maybe that would get you off.”

He took it and did just that, holding it on your throat as he pounded you. You moaned, clenching around him, bucking your hips up against his thrusts to aid him. He looked down at your breasts, then back to where the knife was held to your throat, and you felt him twitch twice. You knew it was coming and, sure enough, it did a moment later. He came hard inside of you, moaning through it, his head bowed as he allowed his orgasm to take him over. He continued to thrust until it was done, stopping and nearly collapsing on top of you before pulling out. But he wasn’t finished, and you already knew what was coming because of the script. He pulled you to a sitting position and opened your legs, eyeing your dripping cunt as he rubbed the knife between both of his hands. 

“Look at that,” he said, running his fingers through your sensitive pussy before he knelt in front of you. “I made such a mess of you, didn’t I?”

“Mmm hmm,” you said, moaning as he lifted his mask. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“I think you know,” he said, dragging the knife over your thigh again before he started eating you out once more. “I’m nowhere close to being fucking done with you, you fucking slut. If you think that I am, then you’d better think again.”

“So much for scary movies, huh?” you asked, moaning as he began to devour your pussy even more desperately. 

“I think this is much better,” he said, eating you out more feverishly. “You know what we should try? You know, since you’re such a filthy girl.”

“What?” you asked, moaning as he fucked you on his tongue.

“Giving it to you up the ass,” he said. “I think that would be fun, don’t you agree?”

“And cut!” the director called.

You whined as Eddie broke away from you, standing up as he helped you. The director was coming onto the set to talk to the cameraman, both of them seemingly pleased with what they’d gotten. Eddie sat the mask and the knife down on the couch, grabbing a water as someone on set offered one. He handed it to you, and you accepted it with a big smile. You took a drink, and Eddie’s hand was on your shoulder in a comforting gesture. He pulled his pants back up and gestured for someone to bring over your clothes. You slipped them on once they did, and Eddie wrapped your jacket around your shoulders for you with a smile. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. “I mean, I didn’t hurt you or anything, did I? I tried to be as careful–”

“No, I’m okay,” you assured him. “Really. I just wasn’t used to someone that big.”

“A lot of the women aren’t,” he said with an apologetic grin. “I always ask them to let me go in slow and careful, but they never really let me. I guess they don’t want to shatter the illusion. It’s just…you were crying, and i was so scared that i was hurting you.”

“Well, I can promise you that I’m totally fine,” you said, taking another sip of the water. “Do you think we did well enough for them?”

“Oh, I think we did,” he said with a chuckle. 

“Something tells me they’ll be asking us to do another one together very soon,” you said. 

“In that case,” he said, smiling as he leaned closer to you and offered an arm. “How about I buy you dinner? I know I’ve worked up a hell of an appetite tonight.”

You grinned, taking his arm with a nod. “Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

____________

taglist: @littledemondani @andvys @wroteclassicaly @succubusmunson @eddieschains @trashmouth-richie @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @reidsbtch @taintedcigs @happylilthought @sunkillerdreamer @battymunson @whore4romance @hallovoid @harrys-housewife14 @alovesongtheywrote @filthy-gorgeous @emmyshortcake @softgoodsstyles @deathlyweird 

[inkykeiji]

⋆₊˚⊹♡ touya-nii + his nasty habit of sneaking into your bedroom

character: todoroki touya | dabi warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudocest, noncon, a slight bit of degradation, implied size difference words: 1.2k

he’s always careful when he starts. careful when he creeps into your room in the middle of the night, sock clad feet quiet against the hardwood; careful to keep the doorhandles latch from catching on the strike plate as he closes it behind him; careful not to wake you as he slinks into your frilly little bed, knocking stuffed animals and extra pillows onto the floor, as he worms his way beneath your pink-piped comforter and slithers his hand between your silky thighs—ah, good girl, you’re not wearing those pesky sleep shorts, just like he told you not to (good little sisters only wear panties to bed; and sometimes, they don’t even wear those, he had informed you)—and then wiggles his fingers under your lacy undies.

that’s when he stops being careful. 

because he loves that sharp gasp of surprise, that sheer unadulterated bolt that courses through your body—shock in the purest, prettiest form—that jolts you from your blissful slumber almost violently; skin shuddering, eyes snapping open, when he shoves two dirty fingers into your ill-prepped cunt. 

it’s his favourite sound in the world, he swears it is, swears he would bottle it up and keep it close to his heart if he could, swears he would wear it around his neck like the cutest, daintiest little noose, tethering him to you. 

but this is the next best thing, he supposes. 

your eyes slip shut again, so tightly they crinkle the corners and furrow your brow, and a whine of his name spills from your lips; first in frustration, then again all wispy and dumb when he curls his knuckles against that plush spot buried deep inside of you—that spot he knows so well, that spot he discovered, then claimed as his own. 

yeah, not so irritated now, are ya, y’little brat. 

no, you’re not. you’re sighing out his name in time with the pumps of his fingers, all melty and stupid and oh-so-cute, knotted with his honorific and seeping into your lace-trimmed pillows in little threads of drool. you’re grinding your ass back against his hard cock as you pathetically hump his palm, indulging him as his hips rut into your plush flesh, pre-cum steadily leaking through his thin pyjama pants, staining plaid in dark wet patches.

“touya-nii,” you whimper, back arching a little, nipples peaked through the thin cotton of your camisole. “stop, stop.” 

this is the routine almost every time, practiced and perfected through night after night of rehearsals, and you play your part flawlessly; effortless and enticing and full of emphasis, because you know he gets off on it—the no!s and wait!s and don’t!s, sometimes spit from your lips, sometimes dribbling out the corner of your mouth, only heightening the whole sordid affair.

because you’re just as fucking sick as your big brother is. 

he can’t stop, don’t you know?

it’s all your fault, he’s telling you, voice caught somewhere between accusatory and mocking. if you weren’t such a slutty little tease, nii-chan wouldn’t have to do this. 

but it’s all just a game; he knows you love it just as much as he does, knows you’re just as depraved as he is, because your actions don’t match your words, you bad girl, the rolling of your hips encouraging the rocking of his own, one of your free hands threading itself over his and guiding it to your breast, bony knuckles pressing into a soft palm as his fingers flex around supple flesh.

if you didn’t love it, if you didn’t want it, then why would you prance around the house in those short, short little dresses? the ones that fan out when you twirl to your music in the living room or ride up when you bend over while cooking in the kitchen, gifting anyone within the immediate vicinity (your vile siblings and their prying eyes) a coveted glimpse of the silk and lace clinging delicately to your cheeks; the ones that are an inch or two too short to be considered wholly decent, and the ones Daddy has repeatedly told you to stop wearing around your big brothers—especially the eldest. 

“m’sorry, touya-nii, m’sorry, m’sorry.”

no, you’re not, but that’s okay. he isn’t, either. 

at least you have each other.

your other hand snakes between your tensing thighs, cupping his own, little fingers layering larger ones as they try to speed up his motions, push his digits deeper, fuck you harder, give you more. 

these trysts never last long enough, though; no matter how hard he tries to lengthen them, to savour them, you’re both too eager, too hungry for one another, cumming too quickly in the dead of night as your bodies tremble together, as names shatter on tongues in sharp whispers and limbs seize and tangle and fuse into one.

it’s always so fucking messy, your cunt clenching around your conjoined fingers, slick dribbling down his knuckles in thick dollops to pool in his hand, to settle in the lines of his palm and streak his inner wrist in pretty shimmering streams.

it’s always so fucking messy, his grunts hot and humid against the nape of your neck, forehead pressed to the crown of your head as his cock throbs, filling flannel with copious amounts of burning, sticky cum—so much it seeps through the material to soak your scrunched panties, so much it dries in a hard glaze, welding lace to your ass. 

you don’t ever dare to wash it off, clean it away, eradicate the evidence, instead allowing each other’s pleasure to stain your skins, wearing it like a mark of honour, a claim of ownership, barely visible when it dries into something firm and translucent, but there nonetheless. 

his fingertips continue to flutter against that swollen spot until ripples of overstimulation are shuddering through your flesh, until your little hand is wreathing around his syrupy wrist and nails are biting into his flesh and tugging, tears beginning to bead your lashes.

only then does he chuckle and pull his hand free, knuckles hooking in an attempt to scrape your walls, a heavy coat of your arousal glistening on his fingers. 

“you cum so fucking much for your big brother,” he growls in your ear, lips wet against the cartilage, voice tapering off into a whine. “look at how wet you get for me.” 

two of his fingers flatten against your cheek and then swipe, slow and hard and thorough, smearing a thick film of your slick across your face, from the tip of your temple to the corner of your mouth, back and forth and back and forth until it’s been rubbed into your skin. 

callused fingertips push past your parted lips, weighing down on your tongue and cramming themselves into your throat, forcing you to taste yourself—to taste him, painted in you; spicy nicotine and heady salt.

“you’re fucking disgusting,” he pants out, but his pupils are gaping, watching as your gorge yourself on your big brother’s flesh, lips puckering and cheeks hollowing as your tongue curls around his knuckles and tries to siphon him further down your throat. 

a whine splinters in his chest as he pulls his extremities free from your voracious grip, slathered in spit, viscous cords strung between his knuckles as he spreads them apart. 

“yeah, you’re real fucking sick, y’know that?” 

“you made me like this, nii-chan,” you breathe out dreamily, already drifting back into sleep’s welcoming embrace, body going lax in his arms and snuggling back against his chest. 

yeah, he fucking did. 

and neither of you would have it any other way. 

[gh0stsp1d3r]

heyy! so this might be so random but i saw something on tiktok that made me think of it. how do you think dad!rafe would react to seeing that creepy shit on baby monitors? like when it looks like the baby’s being pulled or something that looks like a ghost? or it could be totally different and be some stupid kid hacking it and saying shit through its speaker.. i’d write it myself but don’t think i’d do it justice😅

hacked

A/n: IM CRYING THIS IS SO AMSING 😭.

Warnings: mentions of creeps once… that’s it rlly

MASTERLIST

It was an easy night, with your baby girl being surprisingly calm all day, it was like a breeze to put her to sleep in her cradle.

He got underneath the covers with you, you already fast asleep next to him. He had a small smile on his face, going to wrap his arms around you at the same time he glanced at the baby monitor next to you.

He furrowed his eyebrows, his arms stopping mid-air as he heard the baby monitor with concern on his face.

It sounded like a heavy breathing, along with a scratching noise.

“What the fuck?” He mumbled to himself, quickly sitting up in the bed.

“Babe, babe,” he whispered, shaking your resting body in an attempt to wake you up.

“What…?” You groaned out, your eyes still shut as you stretched.

“There’s some weird ass noise coming from the monitor-“

“What?” You sat up quickly, listening along with him. You heard it as well, when you suddenly heard a womans voice whisper incoherent words, along with a boy making some sort of whale… noises? You couldn’t place it.

You and Rafe practically shot up, Rafe grabbing the nearest thing he could use as a weapon, which was really just a glass bottle, before he bolted to the room.

He turned on the light, stepping into the room first, you following behind him.

Your baby was still asleep, thankfully. You and Rafe looked around, practically turning the entire place upside down, making sure that no one or nothing was here.

Rafe checked the windows, still locked. He also checked the alarm system, which was still working perfectly fine, and looked as if nothing had happened.

Still, Rafe had told you to stay in the nursery with her until he could finish checking the entire house. You slumped into the chair, rubbing your eyes and yawning quietly.

You waited for what felt like eternity, Rafe finally coming back into the room. “Nothing.” He spoke, shaking his head.

It finally clicked in your head, you moving over to unplug the baby monitor quickly.

He furrowed his eyebrow at you, before you explained to him.

“I’ve seen videos where this happened and I guess they can get hacked if they’re connected to your WiFi.” You explained, him narrowing his eyebrows.

“Wait- so someone hacked into the WiFi?”

You nodded, glancing at your baby in the crib and the monitor on her stand.

“Does that mean someone could have like- been watching her?” He asked, the mere thought of it enough to make him angry.

“Or us.”

He sighed, rubbing his temples.

“It’s okay, babe. It’s probably just some dumbass teenager playing some prank on us, okay?” You mumbled, putting your hand on his shoulder, “Let’s just… go to sleep, yeah?”

The next morning, the neighbors were knocking at the door, their teenage son and younger daughter standing with guilty looks on their faces.

“Hey, Mr and Mrs Hart, what can we do for you?” Rafe asked with a tired smile on his face, his voice raspy with sleep.

You stood next to him with your baby girl on your hips, giving them both smiles and greeting them.

“Hi, sweetheart. I’m afraid we caught our children playing a prank on you last night, and they had something to say.”

“We’re sorry, Mr and Mrs Cameron. It won’t happen again.” They both murmured in unison, you and Rafe looking at them with confusion on your faces.

“Wait… the baby monitor, that was you guys?” You asked.

The boy nodded sheepishly, his hands going to the back of his neck.

“Well, thank you, kids.” Rafe said with a chuckle. “I’m glad you told us. I was one more thing away from calling the police.”

They both looked up at him now, mouths agape.

“We’re so sorry, again, guys. I’ll make sure that they get punished for this.” Their dad spoke, you and Rafe waving goodbye. Rafe shut the door, raising his eyebrows.

“Honestly, I’m relieved it’s them and not some weirdo.” You spoke, him letting out a chuckle, nodding in agreement.

[sluttyten]

Little Shop of Wonders

Kinktober Day 8 | Kun Masterlist | Member Masterlist

tags: sex pollen, free use, consensual free use, fuck toy, shower sex, lots of cum, facefucking, masturbation, bukkake, cunnilingus, blowjobs, slight exhibitionism, subspace

length: 5971

The bell over the door jingled as you pushed it open, stepping foot inside the shop. 

You’d never noticed this place before. An old shop with big glass window displays filled with plants and crystals, its heavy wooden door recessed from the street, an old brass lantern hung above the door offering only a small puddle of flickering light over the doormat. 

“Welcome,” the doormat had scrawled across it, “to the Little Shop of Wonders.”

You weren’t sure what to expect, but it was a cool, damp October night, and the shop looked like a dry place to wait for your boyfriend. 

Kun had an appreciation for magic. Usually, he favored card tricks, sleight of hand, but he’d shown you before that he was intrigued by more magical magic. He would like this place, too, so you texted him the address since he was already on the way to pick you up from work. 

From deep in the recesses of the store, you hear a woman’s voice call out, “Welcome! Have a look around, and I’ll be there to help you shortly!” 

The store is very old, if you had to guess. The floors are hardwood, bleached by ages of sunlight, dry and dusty with each step you take. The boards creak, and even when you pass over a thick rug, the floor groans beneath you, belching up dust. Dried flowers and herbs hang from the rafters. Strings of lights drape the edges of the room, occasionally cross-crossing the space in between. You spot more of those brass lanterns hanging at the ends of heavy wooden bookcases, the shelves of which are weighed down with heavy tomes and knick knacks that range from crystals and cute animal carvings to disturbingly realistic wooden figurines of people and a skull with a candle melted atop it. 

This place gives you the creeps while simultaneously pulling you in deeper. It feels like magic. It tingles over your skin, smelling sweet. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been walking around before you hear the door jingle in the distance. 

You bump into a viney potted plant on the floor, and a cat bolts out of the shadows, streaking through a gap in the shelves. You follow the cat, discovering that it’s leading you back into the center of the store from where you’d drifted to the back edges. You can see the front door, the misty blue twilight sky outside the front windows. 

Kun stands in the doorway, framed by that eerie light, though the light of the lantern glows on his face, radiant. 

“There you are,” he says with a grin, stepping inside the store fully. “What kind of place have you found?”

“Welcome to the Little Shop of Wonders,” says the same woman’s voice as before, although now it sounds as though she’s floating above you. 

You twist around, looking up at the ceiling, and you find her. She’s a wiry older woman, her curling gray hair tumbling around her shoulders, a long skirt and apron swishing around her legs as she very carefully balances and navigates her way across the beams. 

When you look back at Kun, he’s watching her with a bemused expression, which shifts to that of one impressed when the woman leaps down from the beam and lands lightly on her feet. 

She brushes her hands off on her apron, and looks at the pair of you with a wide, warm, inviting smile on her face. 

“It’s so nice to meet you.” Her hands go to her hips, and she looks the pair of you over, her gaze studying the way you gravitate towards each other. “What can I help you with?”

“Oh.” You and Kun glance at each other, and then you say, “We’re just looking around.”

The woman nods her head. “Of course! If you look long enough, whatever you’re meant to have in here will jump out at you.”

You take Kun’s hand, and for a little while you browse the shelves, occasionally coming across a cat or the witchy woman herself, humming as she passes through different areas of the shop. 

Finally, after you feel that you’ve spent nearly an hour together looking at the small oddities and interests in the store, you realize that it’s time you leave so you can get home. But Kun’s interested in the live plants the woman has sitting beside a window towards the back of the shop. He brushes his fingers along a blush pink leaf, lifts his fingers along the stem, and cups one of the curved bloodred petals.

“I’d be careful with that one, if I were you.” The woman appears suddenly at your elbow, nudging her way between you and Kun. She cups the plant’s pot in her hands, lifting it gently. “This one’s a powerful aphrodisiac. Quite a strong stimulant.” 

Kun peeks at you over her head. You stifle a giggle against your hand. 

“Doubt me if you like,” she warns, “But this plant’s pollen is known to cause intense arousal when ingested. Whether that means if the residue is on your skin, or if it’s contained within a bottle of honey.” 

Suddenly she’s lifting a hand, a small vial of glinting golden honey sits in her palm. 

“Are you saying that’s a bottle of sex honey?” You ask, trying to keep from laughing.

The woman’s mouth tightens. “Yes, dear. Essentially. A taste of this honey, and you and your boy would be bound to fall into bed together. THat’s why I have it labeled for sale over in the love and sex section of the shop. Now, if you ingest the pollen directly, say if he were to lick his fingers now after having touched the plant, the effects would be much stronger. Arousal lasting days, possibly.”

Again, Kun catches your eye over the woman’s head, and you watch your boyfriend daringly lift his hand to his lips, and he pops his index and middle finger both into his mouth.

“Oh, darling….” The witchy woman shakes her head while looking at Kun. She quickly sits the plant back down among the others, and she waves her hand towards the front door of the shop. “You should leave now. Good luck. And you, my dear,” she says with a look in your direction, “You may want to purchase a bottle of the honey, just so you can keep up with him.”

“I think we’ll be fine, but thank you.” You wrap your arm around Kun’s and walk towards the door with him, calling over your shoulder to her, “Maybe if this goes as well as you’re promising, we’ll be back for some of that sex honey.”

You swear that instead of swinging gently shut as it had when you opened it, the door slams behind you as you and Kun step out onto the sidewalk outside the Little Shop of Wonders.

“Come on.” Kun slides his hand down into yours, leading you away to where his car is parked. “Let’s get home.”

On the ride home, you both laugh about the woman’s warnings. It just sounds so silly, the things she was saying. Kun keeps sucking on his fingers, saying that he’s still waiting for it to kick in like she promised, that from the sound of it, he’ll need to fuck you as soon as you get home, but it must be slow acting. “I’m not even a little bit hard, yet. Maybe her plant isn’t working right. Not that I need the help, but she’s made it sound like one taste of the pollen and I’m going to be rock hard for days.”

You laugh, tipping your head against the seat to watch as Kun flicks his tongue between the V of his index and middle finger. “Kun, I promise, if you’re rock hard for days, if this pollen truly works as well as she’s said, you can fuck me however, wherever, as often as you want.”

“I have free use of you?” Kun’s teasing, looking over at you as he rolls the car to a stop at a light. “You’d be my little fuck toy?”

“Anything for you, Kun.” You’re playing, but some part of you is actually serious. You love Kun. Since you started dating him, you’ve wanted him a ridiculous amount. It’s only because you can’t constantly be on his dick that you haven’t let on to him how horny you frequently are. You’ve tried to tone it down, but honestly, giving him free use to fuck you however and wherever and whenever he likes is exactly what you’ve needed all this time.

If only the ridiculous notion of sex pollen was real and not just the imaginary creation of some batty woman in a mysterious shop.

When you get home, you hop in the shower while Kun starts to prepare dinner.

You’ve been in there for only about five minutes, when the door to the bathroom opens. You pull the shower curtain back a bit, peeking out into the steamy bathroom. Kun’s right there, already climbing into the shower, yanking the curtain back shut behind him as he backs you towards the wall. 

“What’s this?” You giggle, reaching for his arm. “Did the pollen kick in or something?”

“Yeah,” Kun murmurs, and then his lips are on yours, his hands on your hips. 

You can’t believe he’s really going along with this, playing into it just to have shower sex. You let him spin you around so your chest and cheek are against the wall. Kun pulls one of your arms behind your back, the other you lift above your head to brace yourself a bit. 

“Any time, anywhere, that’s what you said right?” Kun confirms as he grinds forward against your ass. 

“Mhmm,” you moan, rolling your hips back to meet his movements. “Yes, Kun.”

His mouth moves fiery hot over your bare shoulder, his skin hot against yours everywhere he touches. “Perfect.”

And then he’s thrusting forward, driving his cock between your legs, rutting forward again and again until his cock slides inside you.

With no prep, it burns a little, but you like it. You like when Kun gets a little rough from time to time. Like right now, when he just starts plunging into you with these big thrusts, clearly just chasing his own orgasm. His hand holds yours against your lower back.The shower spraying down on you both has your skin all slippery, your bound hands sliding with each of Kun’s powerful thrusts. 

Your moans echo around the bathroom, and Kun’s breaths come hard and fast against your ear. 

Kun presses up against your back, pinning you between him and the wall, his weight bearing down on you as he fucks into you. Each press of his cock inside you, each catch of his breath against your ear, the heat in your belly stirs a little more. But it doesn’t stir as quickly as Kun, he cums with his mouth against your throat, his body flush against yours. 

One of his hands slides around down your belly, down between your legs, fingers against your clit as he thrusts several more times. Kun fucks his cum deeper inside you, gliding against your G spot while stimulating your clit, and you fall apart in his arms, feeling like you’re dissolving into sweet bliss as he keeps rocking his hips forward and tracing his fingers over your sensitive clit.

He keeps going until you’re whining, until he’s spilling inside you again.

Your legs shake as you actually put them into use again. Kun steps back, leaving you empty and on your own two feet. He rinses off quickly, running a hand down his body, over his cock. You twist around to watch him, biting your lip as you watch his hand run along his cock.

“Keep looking at me like that, babe, and I’m going to have to feed you something other than the dinner I started.” He leans in quickly, dropping a kiss to your lips, and then he steps out of the shower, calling back to you, “Shower quickly, dinner should be ready in a few minutes.”

You finish your shower, dry off, dress in a camisole and cotton shorts, then you head to the kitchen.

Kun’s standing at the counter, chopping a few toppings for the stew he’s made. You walk up behind him, wrap your arms around him and lay your head against his bare shoulder. He’s only wearing sweatpants that hang low on his hips. You run your hand over his bare belly, up his chest, and back down to the edge of his sweatpants. 

Kun sits the knife aside. 

You turn your head, brushing your lips over his warm skin. Kun lets out a shaky breath. You let your pinky finger tuck beneath the edge of his sweatpants.

“It smells good,” you tell him. “I’m ready to eat.”

Kun’s hand trembles as he picks up the knife again, and you rest your cheek against his shoulder, watching as he tries to chop up the last few ingredients. And then you notice.

He’s really so warm, his skin flaming hot beneath your cheek.

“Kun?” You take a step to the side, peering at his face, lifting a hand to his cheek. “Are you sick? You feel feverish.”

His eyes are dark when he looks at you. His pupils are blown wide, and he nearly moans at the cool press of your fingers against his warm cheek. “I’m not sick. I feel fine, except I don’t think that lady was lying about the pollen. I’m still so hard, babe, it hasn’t gone down at all.” 

You look down to his sweatpants, at his cock that’s still ragingly hard, tenting the front of his pants.

Your mouth fills with saliva, and you lift your gaze back up to meet your boyfriend’s. You swallow to keep yourself from drooling when you say, “I meant what I said in the car, Kun. However, wherever, as often as you like. I can take it. Use me as your fucktoy.”

“Fuck.” Kun sits the knife aside again, and he reaches for you, twisting his fingers in your hair, and he forces you to your knees. 

Your mouth drops open as Kun uses his free hand to push his sweatpants down. His hard, heavy cock springs free, already wet at the tip, leaking a crystalline thread of precum. You don’t need Kun’s hand in your hair to guide you; you dive forward, catching the falling bead on your tongue and following it up to the source, sucking Kun’s cockhead in. 

That’s when he takes over, hand pressing against the back of your head, forcing you deeper on his cock. His hips jerk forward at the same time, triggering your gag reflex as he hits the back of your throat. Not that that stops him, if anything it encourages him to go harder, faster, and you take it all, hungry for his cock shoved down your throat even as your eyes begin to water, as your jaw and throat ache from the repeated pressure. You slurp around him as he starts to drag your mouth off of his cock. His fingers tight in your hair, Kun allows you a brief breath before he’s fucking back into your mouth.

You’re drooling all over his cock as Kun holds the back of your head, fucking his cock into the deep warmth of your throat. And when he cums, he just keeps going, filling your mouth and shooting down the back of your throat, it leaks from the corners of your lips, and you think you’re going crazy because you want more.

Kun drags you off his cock by your hair.

Spit and cum and tears streak your face, dripping from your chin as you look up at Kun. 

He releases his hold on your hair to run his thumb under your bottom lip. “You’re so beautiful, babe. Get up, here you go.” Kun offers you his hand, and you slide your palm against his as he pulls you up to your feet. “Good girl, now sit down. It’s time for dinner.”

You obediently sit at the table, still a little fucked-dumb, still dripping his cum even when Kun serves you a bowl of the stew he made. It smells heavenly, rich with spices, and you dig in, the flavors of it only made better with the added flavor of Kun’s cum lingering on your tongue.

Kun pretty much inhales his helping of the stew, and he doesn’t even wait for you to finish eating before he’s walking over to you. You’re quite hungry, so you don’t want him to pull you away from the meal, even though you can see his cock still bulging his sweatpants, staining them with a spot of precum. 

“Keep eating, babe,” Kun tells you, reaching out to stroke your hair. “You need to eat to keep up your strength. If what the lady said is true, I’m probably gonna be like this for a few days.” 

You think back to him sucking the pollen residue off his fingers, licking his hands clean. Who knows how much he ingested?

You eat a spoonful of stew, eyeing his erection out of the corner of your eye. Is he just going to stand there and not take care of it? You look up at Kun, and it’s a horny little demon inside you that speaks with your voice, saying, “You don’t have to wait for me to finish eating, Kun. Until this wears off, I’m yours to do what you want with me.”

His cock twitches in his pants. Kun groans.

“Do you mean that, though? Really?” 

You nod. “Anything you want. Within reason. No bringing anyone else into this–”

“I don’t want to share you!” Kun interjects.

You continue, “Nothing that we haven’t talked about before.”

Kun smirks at that. “Well, that pretty much leaves everything on the table, then doesn’t it?” He strokes your hair again. “All I want right now is to cover you in my cum, babe, head to toe. I want to fuck you in every room in this house, fuck you until we both pass out. I want to treat you like my doll.”

You turn back to your bowl of stew. You shrug, “Then do it, Kun.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him draw his cock out of his pants. You watch him start stroking his cock, but you focus on eating your stew, blowing on it to cool it off, taking your time to lick the spoon clean after each bite. You eat the stew like your pussy isn’t throbbing with arousal watching Kun jerk off inches away from your face. 

He cums again when you’ve got your spoon halfway to your mouth. Kun’s cum streaks over your cheek, landing in your hair, across your lips, some of it hits your spoon and your hand. You eat that spoonful too, enjoying the extra salty addition of his cum to it. Kun keeps stroking his length, a few last spurts striping your cheek as you reach for the bowl. You lift it to your lips, quickly draining what little is left because as soon as it’s gone, as soon as you’ve sat the bowl down, Kun is pulling you to your feet.

When he moves you so your ass is on the edge of the table, you expect Kun to push your shorts to the side and slide his cock right inside you.

You don’t expect Kun to sink to his knees, for him to tear your shorts down around your ankles, and bury his face between your thighs. He spreads your legs with a hand on each thigh, massaging them as he licks at your pussy, as he fucks his tongue into you, as he sucks at your clit and licks up your wetness as you’re drenching his tongue, writhing against his face, needing more and more.

Kun moans loudly, eating you out in the most noisy manner he ever has. 

You cum on his tongue, hands knotted in his hair as you ride it out, grinding against Kun’s face.

“If this is what we have in store,” you gasp as Kun licks a strip up your pussy one more time, “I think I could get used to this. You’ve never given better head, honestly. I need you to be this horny all the time if it means I get eaten out like that.”

Kun scatters kisses over your thighs. “We’re just getting started, babe.” 

- - -

For the rest of the night, Kun has you sit on his lap, cockwarming him while you watch a movie together. 

Kun’s hands are constantly moving – stroking along your thighs, dipping to touch your clit while forcing you to sit still on him; he pulls the neckline of your camisole down to expose your tits, and he teases your nipples until you’re whimpering and fighting the urge to fuck yourself on his cock. But as soon as you get desperate enough to beg for it, Kun stops.

He’ll have you sit up, kneeling above his lap with just the head of his cock still buried in your pussy as he jerks off, cumming inside you so he can watch it drip back out of your pussy. Instead of letting you cum, when you’re teetering on the edge, he’ll have you kneel on the floor, cockwarm him with your mouth instead so he can cum across your tongue and cheeks again, adding even more to the mess he’d made at dinner. He edges you again, and then he fucks your tits, cumming across them then taking his time afterwards to clean it up with his tongue, feeding it back to you and watching you swallow everything before he returns his tongue to your nipples, flicking his tongue over the hardened buds until you’re rocking your hips up off the sofa restlessly.

Kun cums more times than you can keep track of, and you take all of the cum he gives you, hungrily sucking his cock, feeling him fill your pussy, spreading his cum across your tits with your fingers, moaning as he shoots his load across your back while he’s got his fingers inside you.

Kun edges you through it all until finally your body can’t take anymore, and you cum around him while Kun’s got you riding him. He’s hugging you to his chest, his mouth locked with yours, and he is once again spilling into you when your orgasm finally explodes through you.

You don’t remember him carrying you to the bathroom, don’t remember Kun rinsing off with you in the shower, or when he carries you to bed. You remember only a brief glimpse of his cock finally going soft when he settles into bed beside you.

And you think that’s it. 

The sex pollen ran its course.

You’re a little bit disappointed at that thought, truly. When you wake in the morning to pale sunlight, you check on your sleeping boyfriend, and Kun is all spread out beside you. He’s kicked away the sheets in his sleep, and although he still feels warm to the touch, his cock is soft against his thigh. 

You know maybe you should feel like you had enough yesterday. The never-ending edging paired with the amount of fucking you and excessive cumming Kun had done should have satisfied you. But you were having fun. You liked Kun treating you like a cumdump.

Maybe you should go back to the Little Shop of Wonders, ask the witch for that vial of honey or maybe purchase the whole sex pollen plant.

You crawl quietly out of bed, pull on a shirt of Kun’s, and you tiptoe to the kitchen to deal with the mess from last night. Neither of you had bothered with the dishes from the stew, which are still spread out on the table. You get to work cleaning, tidying things and doing the dishes. 

It’s probably for the best that Kun’s already gotten over the effects of the sex pollen, you think as you finish the dishes from last night and start making breakfast instead. Kun is supposed to work today. He’s got a deadline coming up, so he needs to get in the studio today, and he’d been complaining to you yesterday morning about a meeting he has this morning. He’s got things to do, people to see, he can’t call in sick today because he’s too busy dealing with a sex pollen crisis, though at least the people he’s working with and having meetings with are some of his closest friends; they just might understand the situation.

“Good morning,” Kun says suddenly behind you, startling you a bit, but before you can turn to him, his arms are around you, and his hard cock is against your ass. “I guess this isn’t over yet, babe.” He kisses your cheek. “I thought when I fell asleep that it must be. I’d gone soft, but I just woke up hard as I ever was yesterday.”

He thrusts against your ass. 

“So I’m gonna fuck you, babe. But you keep doing what you’re doing, hm?” Kun pushes up the back of the shirt you’re wearing, revealing your ass to him. “God, you’re truly unbelievable, you know that? So fucking pretty, my babe.” And then he’s pressing in, cock pushing inside your pussy. 

You brace your arms against the countertop, and you try to keep finishing the breakfast prep you’d been doing before Kun came in. The way that he’s fucking you makes that a little more difficult, but you try, and Kun seems to like that. 

“Yes, babe, look at you. You’re taking it so well, letting me use you like this.” His cock twitches inside you. 

It’s not easy, that’s for sure.

Your focus starts to slip when Kun pulls your hips back, angling you just right so each of his thrusts is nailing against your G spot. He’s moaning behind you, praising how sweet and tight and warm you feel around his cock. Your pussy just keeps growing wetter and wetter as he reaches up beneath your shirt to grope at your tits, as you try to keep on task even as Kun’s fucking you into delirium.

Kun cums, flooding your pussy, pressing in deep a few more times. 

He steps back, and although you try to keep tight, to keep his cum in, you can feel some of it dripping out, sliding down your thigh, dropping to the floor.

Kun pats your ass, then pulls the shirt back down. 

“Good girl.” He kisses your cheek again. 

He sits down at the table, and a few moments later, the breakfast you were making is ready, so he pulls you into his lap to dine together. 

“Kun,” you say after a while, “Don’t you have to go to the studio today? Don’t you have a meeting too?”

His erection is digging into your thigh, unable to be ignored. 

“I do, and I was actually thinking about that.” He brushes his lips over your neck. “What if you come with me? This reaction isn’t going away, so I’m going to need to cum regardless of whether you’re there or not. So I could jerk off every five minutes, or you could come along and we’ll both get something out of it. What do you say?”

Twenty minutes later, you’re in the car with Kun. He’s flying down the streets. 

Even though his eyes are focused on the road, his driving is worse than usual, though that almost certainly has to do with the fact that as soon as he’d pulled onto the road, he’d tangled his fingers in your hair and urged your mouth down into his lap. 

You eagerly sucked at Kun’s cock, stroking him with both hands, leaving kisses along his length, drooling over the tip, choking yourself on him. Kun lays his hand on the back of your head, directing you when he really feels like he needs to. As you draw closer to the studio where Kun works as a producer, he starts taking over, pushing you down around his cock, his hips rising off the seat to drive himself deeper down your throat. 

He cums right as he’s pulling into the parking garage of the studio. You clean him up as he navigates to a parking spot, and you wait patiently in the passenger seat as Kun gets out. He comes around to your side, opening the door and taking your hand like a gentleman, and he pulls you into a kiss as soon as you’re both standing outside the car.

He takes you into his studio, sitting you in his lap while he starts working, though that only works for so long. Soon he’s getting distracted by the pressing need he keeps grinding against your ass, so he has you slide to your knees beneath the mixing board. You pull up the sweater you wore, and Kun has you push your tits together around his cock, and he fucks between the softness of them, cumming across your tits and then immediately dragging your mouth around his cock. 

You’re still kneeling there beneath the mixing board with your mouth full of his cock when his friend, who is also the artist he’s recording today, walks in. YangYang either doesn’t notice you down there or chooses not to say anything. You obediently keep your mouth around Kun, suckling and shifting on your knees. 

YangYang chats with Kun for just a couple minutes, and then he heads into the recording booth. 

Kun drags you off his cock, and you look up at him. “Babe, I really need to focus on this recording session, okay? So I’m gonna need you to take everything I give you, no whining or touching yourself, okay?”

You nod, sticking your tongue out, offering your mouth up to Kun again.

“Good girl.” Kun pushes you back down around his cock. You hear him press a button above your head, and then he says, “Alright, YangYang, go ahead.”

You bob your head on Kun’s cock, working your hardest to get him to cum for you, knowing that if he doesn’t cum, Kun’s going to be distracted. All you have to do is keep him satisfied, and then he’ll be focused. 

He cums within minutes, but you keep going, and Kun tightens his fingers in your hair. You bring your hands up to his cock too, stroking him into your mouth, letting some of his cum and your spit slide down to lube the way. You’re making a mess of him; his cum leaking out of your mouth is pooling on the front of his pants, but you can’t help it. You’re swallowing around him, swallowing the first load of cum, but before long he’s cumming again, letting out a grunt as you choke around his cock.

“Dude, you good?” YangYang asks from inside the booth. 

“Fine. Try that verse again.”

Kun’s hand weighs down against the back of your head, pushing you all the way down around his cock, and you close your eyes, letting him do it. You sink into some kind of state where you’re not asleep, but you’re not fully conscious either. All you know is the weight of Kun’s cock on your tongue, the taste of his cum, the smell of him as your nose is buried at the base of his cock. You can hear his voice, but he could be talking to you or a whole crowd of people, and you wouldn’t know the difference.

Eventually, Kun lets you up again, tugging lightly on your hair.

You gag as you’re pulled off of him, coughing and gasping for breath. Kun’s cum drips from your lips and chin.

“Are you okay?” Kun asks when he takes one look at the dazed expression on your face. “Babe, are you good to continue.”

You nod, feeling your lips form a loose smile. 

Kun brings his hand up, wiping at your cheeks and chin and lips. His fingers are gentle beneath your chin as he brings you forward into a kiss. His lips leave yours, brushing over your forehead. 

“We’re done with this for now.” He helps you the rest of the way to your feet. “You’re too far gone, you can’t even speak to me right now. If you could see the look on your face right now, my love, you would understand. Don’t pout.” You didn’t realize you were until Kun said that, and you try to tame your expression. He smiles, leading you over to the sofa along the back wall. “Take a nap. You’re amazing, and I love you, and once this all wears off, I owe you something huge.”

You hum, sinking down onto the sofa, laying your head down, and immediately you can feel a tired pull. 

Kun strokes his hand over your head, kisses your forehead one more time, and you’re asleep before he walks away. 

- - -

You sleep it off there on the sofa, waking hours later to go home with Kun. 

He fucks you senseless a few more times that night at home, and when you wake the next morning you stay in bed with him, waiting for him to wake, waiting for him to need to fuck you again, to let you suck his cock again even though you’re pretty sure at this point, your throat is permanently molded to the shape of Kun’s cock.

But when he wakes, Kun just pulls you against his chest. His cock doesn’t grow hard. He just sighs and holds you close, and you’re actually perfectly content with that change of pace too.

But a few days later, as you’re heading home from work, you get the thought into your head to return to the Little Shop of Wonders, to see if that witchy woman will sell you a vial of that sex honey. 

The pollen had been a lot. Your body is still aching days later, and Kun swears his balls are sore from how much he came in such a short span of time. But you’ve both agreed that maybe the honey would be nice to have – a less intense version of that that lasts only a few hours wouldn’t be bad to experience from time to time.

You walk down the side street you’d passed down just a few days ago, and you search the shopfronts for the window displays filled with crystals and viney plants, for the recessed doorway with the brass lantern and the ancient-looking wooden door. 

But you pass up and down that street three times, checking each shop before you finally give up. It’s not here. It’s as if the Little Shop of Wonders was never here at all, but you know you couldn’t have imagined it.

Weeks pass, you forget about it, too swept up in the holiday season closing in around you. Christmas is just days away, winter staking her claim over the city with a snowstorm blowing in this afternoon, ruining your plans to go shopping for Kun a Christmas present and a birthday present, since that’s a week later.

You’re hurrying home from work, bundled up against the chill, thinking about what you can get Kun that he’ll truly appreciate.

And then, from the corner of your eye through the swirling snow, you see a gleam of bronze. You turn your head. 

A brass lamp.

A wooden door.

Large plate glass windows frosted over, but not entirely concealing the displays of crystals and books and a wreath of candles and symbols. 

A new wooden sign creaks above the door, blowing back and forth in the wind. 

The Little Shop of Wonders sits waiting, promising the perfect present for Kun.   

a/n: I could've gone on and on with this one honestly! I was going to write a few more scenes, but it's getting late and I really need to post this.

I hope you enjoyed! Reblogs are deserving of my eternal gratitude, likes are greatly appreciated, and your thoughts and comments are always welcome !

[lilyarchived]

behind closed doors [simon "ghost" riley]

a/n: URGH this idea literally came from a silly twitter picture, PLEASE SEND ASKS YOU CAN SEE HOW DESPERATE I AM FOR IDEAS!! Also thank you for the love on my first post, you guys are awesome!

warnings: gn! reader, reader has a breakdown, jealousy, cursing, angst (to fluff), 0.7k words.

summary: you overheard a conversation that included you, and it wasn't a positive talk.

"Ghost, please. leave me alone." you whimper as you walk away from your lieutenant just following behind you. “Not until you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.” he replies in that same old gruff voice since the day you met. 

You were wandering through the base, having done all the tasks Price had assigned ya. Hearing a familiar deep voice in one of the rooms, you were about to enter but a flash of hesitation hit you once you heard your name. “[mumbled] and what [scrambled] about [scrambled] [Y/N]?” muttered soap, his voice an unserious tone. You gulp, wondering if the context was negative or positive. “What about them?” your heart drops, did he really think nothing of you? Of course not, you were overthinking, you assure yourself this was just ghost being ghost. “I don’t mean to pry ya, lad. Don’t you and [mumbled] have something going on?” your smile reappears after soap’s suspicion. You were about to burst in, smiling, before hearing ghost’s voice once more. “What? No. There was never ‘anything’ between us.”

 Oh. Tears blur your vision before hearing soap say “Ah. So you’re pretty serious about this one you’ve been talking to, huh?” You run away before your heart shatters even more.

“Don’t bullshit me Simon. I heard you in there with Johnny.” You finally turn around once you’re out in the training field, only this time it was empty. You’ve never seen it this empty. What a strange sight. You bring your hands up to your head, fuzzying your hair as you scoff and fold your arms, waiting for ghost to respond. He just looks at you with those same deadpanned eyes, only this time it was laced with a confused look. “What?” he voices in a hushed manner.

 You could only fall to the rough ground as you broke down in an out-of-breath manner. Hearing Simon's footstep’s rummage through and leveling with you to hold you in his arms, his grasp tight as he hushes your cries.

“[Y/N], did you get those files i asked yo-” he barely got to finish his sentence before you dropped them at his hands and began to make your way out. “Gotta go, I'll see you later, Kyle.” you utter, quickly shutting the door behind you. “What’s up with them?” Simon asked Kyle, eyes wide with how the normally-clingy [Y/N] was now being avoidant. “You cannot be that fucking stupid, LT.” Kyle remarked. “What?” ghost asked, voice slightly raised now. Gaz scoffs, “You shit talked them to Soap, you think they wouldn’t find out?” he added. “I never said anythi- fuck. I wasn’t-” Kyle just raised an eyebrow, letting his lieutenant explain himself. “I was telling Johnny how much i like them.” Kyle drops his pen whilst smirking, clearly intrigued now. “Go after them, idiot!” he yells, as Simon bolts outside, in search of you.

And now here you were, in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. ‘How pathetic.’ you think. “Do I mean nothing to you? All those nights, those- stupid breaks I spent with you, getting to know you, nothing?” Simon’s heart aches as he hears your broken voice, feeling immense guilt creep up. “[Y/N], I was telling Johnny how I wanted to be with you.” your sobs quiet down, trying to process what he just said. “There’s no one else?” you whisper, silent cries slipping.

“Really? And what about that gyal you were talking to, Sarah? still want [Y/N]?” – “I don’t mean to pry ya, lad. Don’t you and Sarah have something going on?”

He was denying ever having ‘something’ with a different girl. It all seems foolishly funny now. You laugh through your tear stained cheeks as you punch Ghost on the chest playfully. "i hate you." your voice softer than before, if that were even possible. “It’s you, it’s always been you.” he explained, in that same old gruff voice since the day you met. Only this time, it held more emotion than ever.

[almostempty]

Maladaptive Coping Mechanisms 

Part 2

Pairing: Javier Peñal x f!reader

Summary: Looking for an escape from a horrible day, you take a sexy stranger home from the bar. 

Warnings: smut, pwp, dom reader/sub jav undertones, switch reader/ switch javi undertones, oral sex, piv sex, AU unprotected sex has no risks bc it's fictional, pwp but some feelings involved, pet names, dick & pussy pronouns,

Notes: still practicing, would love feedback, constructive criticism, or delusional inspiration <3

thanks to @miss-oranje-disco-dancer for your thoughts on part 1, i hope this part lives up to the first, and to @gothcsz for encouragement, and the kind anon who asked for part 2

WC: 5.3K

AO3: here

Part 1: here

Masterlist: Here

It hurts gasping to catch your breath. Lungs filled with water. Eyes shut so tight a dull headache starts behind them. Every second feels like an hour. In your empty room, alone in your bed. Drowning. Sweat cooling and drying on your skin as the airconditioner hums. A sticky, wet pool of come between your legs. Damp, sweaty sheets. Great, add them to the laundry pile and everything else from your life you’d like to toss out the window. And over what? A man you said ten words to before your smile and fingers digging into his bicep begged him to fuck you? 

When you open your eyes, you can still see his staring back at you deep, warm brown. A new mirage to haunt your mundane existence. You can still hear his baritone voice scratching your ears. You blink and blink, but it doesn’t fade. Javier is standing before you. No shirt on, jeans unbuttoned. Sweat on his golden chest still casting an ethereal shine. He’s holding a fresh glass of water. Your dehydrated body salivates. He’s not a mirage in a desert, though. His shirt is still on your floor with yours. 

You scowl at him, drawing a confused look from him. 

“Something wrong, cariño?” he asks pointedly. 

“No.” 

He sets the water down but doesn’t move closer. He gives you a look. Like he knows your ‘no’ was bullshit. How would he know? He doesn’t know you. Irritation creeps in, replacing the suffocating emptiness. He places a hand softly on your thigh. Gentle so you don’t bolt and run into the street to get hit by an unsuspecting driver in the dark, unable to see you until their headlights flood your eyes and reflect. 

“Thought you’d left,” you answer quietly but honestly. You don’t know him. Why do you care if he thinks you look pathetic? 

“That fast? Without a shirt?” 

You shrug. 

“You want me gone?” He asks, revealing nothing about his own desires. Stoic and frozen to avoid bias. 

“No,” you shake your head, grab the water, swallowing and swallowing. It's so cold it hurts. You hope it never runs out. He can’t see who you really are if you’re hiding behind a glass. Despite your wishes, the glass runs dry. Javi takes it from you and sets it down. 

You look at the man in front of you with sober eyes. He’s incredibly handsome. Without being fueled by blind rage, alcohol, or a contagious horny fever, you aren’t quite as confident. In fact, you suddenly feel overcome with vulnerability. A cord of insecurity wraps around your throat, constricting. You reach for another cigarette to escape the sensation, but Javi intercepts. He takes your hand in his, pulling you towards him until he gets you out of bed and standing before him. He pulls you towards his broad frame and holds you tightly. Pressed against him, chest to chest, you listen to his deep, slow breathing. Skin to skin, he co-regulates you like a baby, fragile in his arms. 

You fight against it. Feeling pathetic. Unable to bare your fangs. Unable to slash with your claws and push him away. He holds you too tight. A heavy lump in your throat renders you unable to speak. Too raw. You’re lost at sea. Circling a whirlpool of dark thoughts. You wait for his rejection. An excuse. A line. A wink and a slap on the ass. A reason to stop fighting and drown. You shouldn’t care if he leaves or ruminate on what he says. He was a distraction. A hot, talented, unforgettable distraction. Another cigarette to burn down to your fingertips and discard in the pile of ash. 

As if, once again, he could hear your hurricane of thoughts bellowing and howling for your attention, Javi shushes you. 

“Quiet.” He runs his fingers up and down your spine. A little light shimmers behind your ribcage. His touch is soothing, and his voice is grounding as he hums into your ear about how soft your skin is. You inhale, your face pressed against his body. He’s spicy, earthy, and smoky. You bite and lick at the flesh you can reach. A barely there noise rumbles in his throat, only for you, only for the ear flush against him, flesh and blood. 

“Shhhh,” he murmurs, “enough.” The light in your chest flickers again. It’s dim, but still, it could guide someone through the dark forest of viscera in your chest cavity to your heart. You shudder. Letting someone follow that beacon through the labyrinth to your jagged, glowing soul? No. What if they see the ugly shape, naked and scarred and bruised? What if they know what you need? What if they give it to you altruistically. 

A stony scowl sets in place. Corners of your mouth weighed down and brows drawn tight. You break out of his hold. Rough and harsh against the warmth between your bodies. 

“How do you know?” You demand an answer. 

“Know what?” 

“Why are you shushing me?” 

“Too loud up here,” he taps the pad of his finger to your temple. A fissure streaking down your stone barricade.

“How do you know?” 

“You have tells.” 

“You don’t know me like that,” you jab a finger at his chest. Hostile and baiting. 

“I’m observant,” he says like it’s a reasonable explanation, unperturbed by your bristling. You stare at him expectantly, waiting for more. Might as well cross your arms and tap your foot. Observant? What the fuck does that mean? 

His hands flex at his sides, his mouth twitches, and then he rolls his shoulders, staying loose and relaxed. Like some thought just rolled through his whole body. “I’m not a good guy,” he says like it’s a fact. Not a threat or self-deprecating. Neutral. 

“But, I know what I’m good at,” he continues, “you clench your jaw, start breathing shallowly, and your eyes–” 

“Got it. I’m a walking billboard,” you cut him off sharply. 

“No.”

You stare back at his face. Unreadable. You wonder what his tells are. 

“I’m observant,” he repeats. You raise an eyebrow at him. “And,” he pauses, “I may have some special training and experience.” 

“In …observing?” 

“Something like that.” 

“What are you Javi? A PI? Secret agent man? FBI?”

“DEA.” 

“DEA?” 

“Formerly.” 

“Formerly? Did you get fired? Caught on the take? Testing the product?” 

He snorts at you. You cracked a smile out of him. It softens you. A playful ease reemerging.  

“Retired.” 

He’s a man of few words, it seems. His walls have a strong foundation. You scrutinize his face and body swiftly and blatantly. 

“You either have some freakish age-defying genetics, or the DEA retirement age is earlier than I thought,” you muse, earning a little huff of air that sounds like a stifled laugh from him. 

“Chose an early retirement; resigned.” Something else is on the edge of his tongue. It doesn’t formulate. 

“Did you like it?” You ask with sincerity. He blinks. Unprepared for that question. Shit, was that the wrong thing to ask? You notice the lines in his face. He runs his thumb across his bottom lip in thought. You wonder if that’s one of his tells. It’s kind of a slutty one, you think to yourself, suppressing a smile as you focus on his mouth. His lips. Soft and plush. The way they fit against yours– 

“I don’t think so,” he decides, “maybe early on.” 

You smile up at him, “s’good that you’re out of it then,” you say with an assertive nod. 

He nods back with a deep exhale. Release. Like he’s letting go of something, but his eyes seem unfocused now. Another tell? Maybe you need special training to know. He seems far away in his head. Withdrawing. No, you want him to stay present with you. You liked how it felt when he appeared connected. Here. With you. You liked his confidence. The chemistry egged you on like you both were in on a secret. You think you might know how to bring him back. Plus, he needs it, you decide. You aren’t done with him, and he hasn’t disappeared completely. You readjust internally. More. You’re still smiling, but with an edge he hasn’t caught yet. 

“Hey, Javi?” You purr. 

“Hmm?” Still faraway. 

You pick up one of his hands in both of yours and kiss each finger. Watching his face. Looking for the light behind his eyes. The tactile sensation draws it out like a stagelight, he’s fixed on your mouth. The size of your hands around his. The hunger in your eyes when you look through your lashes at him. 

“What else are you good at?” You drop your voice. Your demons chitter and flap around the room. Maybe they’re chasing his. You drag his fingers down your body. Slowly. Both your heads droop, chin to chest, watching the private show. Just for you, except it’s for him. Between your breasts, down your soft belly. Lower and lower. Breathing your shared hot air. All you can hear is the fan in the airconditioner and your pulse. Time weighted down by the tension. You pause. His hand is heavy, dead weight in yours, letting you have him. You reverse, tracing back up, the same path, until you’re about to kiss his fingers again, but instead you wrap your lips around one and suck. 

“Fuck,” his eyes widen briefly, and his jaw hangs slack. You pull off his finger wetly. Alluring. You don’t have to act. The expression forming on his face brings out your devious seductress. Smiling, wide. You bite your lip, toning it down. Batting your lashes at him. You’re like an image from a dream he’s been having since he was a teenager. He hopes he doesn’t wake up from it. 

“Javi?”

“Yes.” 

“What else are you good at?” you repeat. Tolerant of his lapse in responding. For now. 

The switch flicks. He regains autonomous control of his limbs. Hands curl around your form, until one rests along the back of your neck, fingers slid into the hair at the base of your skull. The other wedges between your legs. Hot against the sticky mess you’d been forcing yourself to ignore since he first got out of your bed. He’s here, back. 

“Good at making a mess of this pretty little pussy.” 

“Mmm,” you agree. His voice unlocks something ravenous. 

“Good at making you come wrapped around these fingers,” he slips and swirls them through the mess between your legs. Obscene. 

“Mmm.”

“Good at filling you with this cock until you forget how to say anything ‘cept for ‘please, Javi’,” he declares as his other hand wraps yours around his growing length. 

“Yes.” 

“Good at giving you something to feel,” he continues on. He is no longer a man of few words; he’s not a laconic lover. A filthy little devil dances on his tongue. He’s a willing vessel. Tugging at your hair and slipping through your folds. 

You giggle airily, and he pauses his running list of sex skills, waiting for an explanation. What could possibly be funny to you right now. 

“Giving me something to feel,” you slip between another giggle. “Right now,” you pull at his wrist, “I feel like we could use a shower before we keep going. We’re messy.” 

He laughs with you, and you adore how his eyes crinkle when he smiles wide. 

You wash each other in the shower with care. Roles reversed from the cab of his truck, you sternly demand he behaves in the shower, citing an unreliable hot water tank. It’s hard to resist fooling around covered in soap, but he holds up his hands in surrender. He promises to behave. But his cock refuses. It pokes and prods at your soft belly and lower back. Teasing. Begging to be scolded for disobeying. Protesting in opposition to Javier’s earnest affection. He’s gentle washing your back. Vulnerable letting you wash his. It’s rejuvenating. He cleared your mind earlier, and gave you something to feel, with care and attention. You commit yourself to returning the favor. You’ll give him a break from whatever led him to brooding on a barstool. 

You have a feeling he doesn’t give up control very often. He’s such an attentive listener, though. He’ll do great, you decide. 

He knows something has changed. Wretched observant thing he is. 

You are busy thinking, but you don’t have the same look on your face as you did at the bar or when he came back to your bedroom after getting more water. Your mind is racing, but with vigor. It radiates through the hot steam. A sparkle in your eye. Fluid movement. As if it were all premeditated, you dry off and direct him. 

He’s bewitched by the riddle of you. Bold and quick witted, but raw and honest. It’s easy to notice when you’re lost in your head, but he can’t predict you. Time speeds up and slows down in your presence. Like he was knocked out cold, face to pavement. Then thrown in the backseat of a speeding car, but it’s on a cross country trip. When he makes eye contact with you in the rearview mirror from the backseat it’s unnerving. Is he your hostage? Were you the getaway driver? 

You catch him drifting away. Naked and wet in your too bright bathroom, exposed like he’s on an operating table under the bright fluorescent lights. You watch as he towels off on autopilot. 

He realizes he wants to stay longer, not because he knows the broken look from your face earlier, but because something else already stitches you together. You’re peculiar. Direct. Expressive. His speed. Some unspoken understanding, resolute and vibrant. Cutting through the void of the unknown. Real. He can read when you disappaer, but he can’t predict you. 

Javi shakes his head to himself, lost in this train of thought. You’ve known her for a few hours. A couple drinks, sex, and a shower, he reminds himself. He also knows how you taste and how you feel wrapped around his cock, whining please, and that thought fans the flames. 

Enough. You decide. He needs this. 

He smells fresh and sweet from your body wash as you lead him back to your bedroom. He pulls your back into his damp chest, running his hands along your body and nearly purring in your ear. Good.

You whip around and take a step back, surprising him. He hesitates. You’re analyzing. Calculating. Your eyes drag over his body. His big brown eyes and kiss-swollen lips register that you pulled away from him. His hands flex like a predator, ready to grab and pull you back to him, but restrained. His cock reaches out towards you unabashedly, shouting for your attention. 

You can’t help but feel the smile you feel pulling at the corners of your mouth. 

“Javi?”

“Yes?”

“Are you good at following orders?”

“Nope.” 

You laugh, surprised by his quick honesty. 

“Kind of oxymoronic,” you ponder. 

“How?” 

“Well, now I don’t know if you should earn my favor for answering honestly or if I should prepare a punishment if you’re going to misbehave.”

Something flickers across his face. He swallows it. 

“Let me try again.” You move closer and cup his cheek in your palm like he did to you when you first sat on your bed for him. You look into his eyes and speak softly, “You gave me what I needed earlier. Made me feel so good I forgot everything else.” He waits for you to continue, but you feel his chest puff with pride. “I’d like to give you what you need now, Javi.” He swallows again. You wondered if he’d have a quip for that, but he looks so serious. Focused. 

“But first, I need to know if you’ll be good for me, Javi. Can you do that? Can you be good for me?” 

You feel him melt slightly, into your palm, nearly imperceptible the weight shifting into your hold. 

More. The wildfire within you is lit. Blazing. 

“Yes,” he nearly whispers. A flush of heat crawls up his chest. 

“Can you follow my orders?” 

“Yes, mi reina,” he said, consenting. That’s new. 

“Mmm,” you purr at him. 

“Does your pretty cock know that?” 

He blinks with a thin veil of confusion at you. Uncertain. 

“Yes,” he confirms. 

“Look at me,” you order. 

You sink to your knees in front of him. You ego does flips in your stomach. He looms over you, but you hold the reins. You pepper little kitten licks up the underside of his shaft, holding his eye contact and pausing. You rest your soft cheek against his thigh. He’s tense. Waiting to know the rules. 

“Does he look greedy to you?” You study the precome weeping from the head of his cock inches from your face. 

“No, mi reina.” 

“No?”

You avoid his crying erection and impishly toy with his balls. Lazily, you kiss and lick and suckle at them for your own enjoyment. And when you stop, you feel the weight of his gaze, and his unanswered questions, the payback. 

“So good for me watching and not touching,” you praise. “But, baby, look. He’s drooling like a rabid dog.”

You swipe up a trail of the glistening fluid with precision, doing nothing to relieve him. He swallows tightly, his body buzzing with tension like a livewire. He finds it easy to dole out pleasure, direct his energy towards someone else, drown in unraveling a woman’s desires. But your knowing look at him is unnerving. Rattling his bravado. You move with precision, intensely. 

“Tell me, Javi,” you peer up at his face, “do you have a greedy cock?” 

You’re going to ruin him. 

“Yes,” he relents through an exhale. You’ve found it. Kept locked in a cage. Leashed in the dark. How did you find it? Did he lead you there? 

You tilt your head at him. 

“Yes, mi reina,” he adds. 

“Say it for me, baby,” you push. 

He takes a shallow breath. You grin at him like a Cheshire Cat. 

“I have a greedy cock, mi reina, a greedy disobedient cock.” Unlocked, you pocket the key. You’ve unleashed something within him. His feels a swirl of sick pleasure twisting in his core. 

“Yes,” you exclaim with a bright look that gives him a rush. He wants to keep making you look like that. 

“You can touch.” You reward him. Too easy. 

He reaches for you, and you swat at his hand. 

“No, baby, you can touch your greedy cock, not me.” 

A whiny little groan comes out of him, prickling with need. 

“Slowly,” you add, watching as he obeys. His hand pumps slowly. You can’t resist. Holding out your tongue, you move close enough that his rosy head taps against your wet tongue just long enough to get a taste. You hum. Pleased with his obedience and the taste of him. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, closing his eyes tightly. 

“Your eyes stay on me, though,” you remind him gently, with leniency for his current state of executive functioning. 

“Would you like to know a secret?” You tease as you stand up and lean into his ear. 

“Yes,” he pants. Breathy and gravelly. Delight coats your expression, you 

“I like your big greedy cock,” you lilt. 

A soft whine is pulled from his throat. You frown dramatically at him. Causing him to pause his tense strokes and his brow to furrow. You love the intoxicating feeling of having him at your mercy. 

“But you already knew that,” you admonish, shaking your head at him. 

“Already knew that,” he repeats. You’re not sure he could tell you what he just agreed to know. 

“Not a very good secret then, I guess,” you think aloud. You’re light and lucid, bouncing around him as he’s anchored in the quicksand of your spell. 

“But do you know,” circling behind him, you press your soft tits into his back, and you continue to rasp towards his ear, “how wet my pussy is now? Just from the idea of taking your cock down my throat? She’s about to drip down my legs.” 

“Fuck,” he pants again and stops moving. You feel like the sun. You urge him to turn towards you as you crawl onto your bed and lay in the center. His eyes flick all over you, wanting to see everything. 

He’s fighting to figure out where to lock his eyes. It feels euphoric to see how openly aroused he is by you. 

“Did you know that?” You repeat. 

“No.” 

“S’what I thought,” you reposition yourself, “you wanna see for yourself?” 

“Yes,” he answers rapidly. Eager. 

You show him. Parting your legs to display the evidence. So wet and tender for him. 

You’re locked in a timeloop. When you see his eyes flood with lust, and his body tenses, your desire swells in your core, flooding your glossy folds. When he sees your glistening sex fluttering and pulsing, it nearly brings him to his knees. A horny sisyphian wet dream. Turning each other on. But, crucially, you know how to break free. 

“You wanna taste?” You ask. 

“Yes, please.” Good manners. 

He starts to move towards you, and you press him back. 

“No, baby, lay right here, and I’ll give you a taste.” 

He’s obedient. Settling next to you. For a moment, he has the urge to drag you by the hips to sit on his face. To take you for himself, no games. But then he hears your sweet voice praising him and feels overcome with a dizzying sense of validation. 

“So perfect, baby, look at you,” you continue showering him with adoration. You’re mesmerizing with your sweet scent, wet lips, and your glassy eyes. Too good for him. He doesn’t deserve your attention like this. 

You see the crease between his brows as he starts to overthink. Enough. You bite sharply at his nipple, and he yelps and gapes at you. You straddle his waist and give him a stern look. 

“Stay here with me, Javi,” you order, ”don’t disappear in there.” You tap a finger lightly against his temple. He nods. 

You hover over him and slip his swollen head through your folds, easily coating his length. He shudders and groans. So openly vocal and responsive to you. That’s good. I like to hear you, baby. You use him as you please, like a toy circling your clit. But it’s everything about him that saturates you in pleasure. 

“Feel so fucking good,” you praise before pulling back and shifting down between his legs. 

You lick and suck your arousal off of him. Loud and messy. You climb towards his face. “Open,” you place your hand under his jaw, “taste,” you murmur before feeding your tongue into his mouth. Kissing hungrily he lets out desperate, deep groans. Relaxing into your movements he simply accepts what you give and lets you feel his uninhibited reactions. 

He finds you vexing and tantalizing. Letting him touch and taste, but not directly. He’d have half a mind to argue with you—despite having tormented you just the same—but how you light up and laugh when you best him fills him with a more profound desire. He likes how you look when you’re in charge. He likes that he just has to keep up. He likes being all consumed by the present moment, so caught up in you he can’t think about anything else. 

You break away, seemingly satisfied with his participation thus far. You’re ethereal and glowing above him. 

You slide down and return to your retribution. Teasing by lightly drawing your fingers around his leaking cock as it lies against his lower abdomen. You revel in delight over his muscles tensing and flexing, and he huffs impatiently as you increase the intensity of your vengeance. You trace the same outline with your tongue; you use his moves from earlier, breathing warm and cool air over his length and watching it twitch. 

You stare up at him as you run the flat of your tongue from his balls up to his tip. He looks wrecked, staring back at you, and you feel powerful, holding his attention.  

He catches the flash of a smirk before you slip your mouth around his tip and nearly overwhelm him with the warm slip of your tongue and the pressure of your mouth wrapped around him. 

“Fuck,” he rasps. 

You don’t let up, swiftly taking him further down. You focus on breathing and working him into the back of your throat, then back to just the tip. Your saliva drips and coats him as your hands work in time with your bobbing head. It’s messy, and the noises are pornographic as you pour your enthusiasm onto him. He’s cursing and groaning while you continue on, and you can’t take the sight of him anymore. You pull off him and crawl up the bed on your hands and knees. You sit up and pick up one of his hands. 

“Javi, I have a problem,”

“Shit, what?” 

“When your cock is in my mouth, my pussy gets jealous. She’s too empty,” before he can respond, you drag his hand through your obscenely wet folds. 

“Fuck,” he chokes out. It must be his favorite word. 

“Mhmm,” you agree. 

“Use me,” he says in a hoarse voice. 

“I intend to,” you reply. 

And you do. You ride him with an unrestrained vigor. You start bouncing up and down, tossing your head back to give him a little show. You drive him into a frenzy as you freely describe how good he makes you feel. And when he looks wholly fucked out, you taunt him for looking so pleased when his body is yours to use. 

When he breaks, you feel his hands caress your body greedily. He squeezes at your hips, and he gapes with stars in his eyes at your tits perfectly filling his hands. He gropes at your ass and digs his fingers into your plush skin, pulling you down harder onto him with each bounce.

You consider how you might torture him further for touching without asking, but decide you just need to see him come undone. A single thought crosses your mind like a brilliant marquee on an empty boulevard.

He remains happy to obey as you instruct him to swap positions. 

“You’re going to keep fucking me hard and deep while I come on your cock,” you order as you trail your hand down to your clit to your liking. 

“Yes,” he agrees. “Come. Come on my cock.” He chants raggedly as you do. Your orgasm ripples across your body until the oversensitivity hits, and you press your hand into Javi’s chest. He pauses, hovering over you. You breathe as you come down and observe the exertion written across his features. 

“Again,” you state, and he slides back into you. “I need it now, Javi,” you continue. “I need you to come. Fill me up. Just like you promised.” 

You can’t get there with him again fast enough, but don’t need to. You just want to feel him deep inside you, releasing everything he’s got. And he’s more than willing to follow orders. He thrusts into you deeply until his hips jerk, and you can feel him pulsing inside of you as he comes. 

“Please, take it.” You make out in between words that he smothers in your skin.  

When he collapses on top of you, and your fingers rake through his hair, it’s as if he turns to liquid, and your soul absorbs him up. 

You hum contentedly at him and push until he rolls off. 

You order him to stay in bed before you’re off to clean up, bring him a towel, and of course, refill water glasses for both of you. As you walk into the kitchen, you see the flashing light on your answering machine. You didn’t notice it when you got home earlier, but it reminds you of the reality of the night. You know it’s a scathing message from your ex for walking away hours ago. 

You feel a thread of annoyance, but it doesn’t escalate as you return to your bedroom. 

Javi is where you left him and watches you with a funny look in his eyes as you carry on about your tasks until you return to his side. He likes seeing you move about your space, naked and unhurried. How insistint you are about taking care of him, it feels natural. 

“What?” you grill him for staring. 

“Nothing, nothing,” he assuages, raising his hands in defense. 

You like how he looks in your bed with his dewy skin and mussed hair. 

“Seems like you can be good at following orders,” you note.  

“Depends on who’s doing the ordering, I guess” he shrugs, and you roll your eyes. 

You offer him a cigarette and notice the time on the clock on your nightstand. 

“It’s late,” you state, and he nods, taking a long drag. 

“Stay,” you suggest, hoping it doesn’t sound needy. 

“That an order, mi reina?” 

You didn’t expect to hear that endearment outside of sex. It makes you float. 

“Yes.” 

“Good.”

He’s there. In the morning when you wake up. Taking up too much space in your bed, sprawled on his stomach. Trapping you under a heavy arm. Snoring hot air into your shoulder. His body is a furnace, the sheet balled up towards your feet, leaving his bare skin exposed to the morning light. His smooth back and the curve of his ass are candid and honest next to you. You figured he would’ve disappeared before you woke up. Like a cryptid. You thought you’d be searching for any trace that he was real. Fortunately, you are surrounded by evidence. He is real, and unguarded. And somehow weighing your whole body down with just one arm. You squirm trying to check the time and he stirs. You still. 

“Morning,” he grumbles. Of course his morning voice is sexier than you could’ve imagined. 

“Morning.” 

He peels his arm from your skin, releasing you. Free to stretch you reveal the ache in your shoulders from sleeping in that position with a groan. The room smells like sweat and sex, with faint notes of your shampoo and his aftershave lingering on your pillows. You instantly miss his touch, despite the fact that you were overheating from his warmth. You wait for a clue. What happens next? He was supposed to be temporary. A high you chased. Just a distraction, help you avoid reality and your emotions. But you like having him spread out on your mattress in the morning. You’d like to hear more of his voice. 

He flips onto his back and scoops you under his arm. Oh. Head on his chest. You hear the strong beat of his heart in his chest. You might as well try. 

“You want–” “Can I–” 

You both laugh, your head bumping into his chest. You urge him to go first. Reveal his hand. 

“Can I take you to breakfast?” he asks, “maybe after another shower,” he adds considering whatever fluids are still pasted to his skin. 

You couldn’t have resisted the smile spreading on your face if you’d been warned ahead of time. You know he feels it pressed against his skin. 

“I was going to offer to make coffee, but that does sound better.” 

“Good.”

“Plus, I could use a ride back to my car. It’s still outside the bar.” 

“A ride, hm?” His voice melts over the top of your head. You’re not listening to the words. Floating in a cloud. Just the baritone of his voice keeping you in the air. “C’mere, I’ve got a ride for you, cariño,” he growls into your hair before pulling you all the way on top of him. You shake with airy laughter, sitting up. Your laugh lights up his eyes. He looks at you like he wants more. 

It’s enough. 

[antiwhores]

I was wondering if i could suggest a creep!bakugo fic about his infatuation with perfumes and body wash scents if you don’t want to I understand but just asking <3

Sorry, I have been SO busy bro but I gotchu.

I feel like Bakugou would walk by you and purposely sniff a big ass sniff of you. He’s actually obsessed with your smell. When you invite him over to your house to watch a movie at the beginning of your relationship, he almost gets hard walking in when the scent of you smacks him in the nose.

He immediately heads to the bathroom the first time he comes over.

“I need to pee.” He stutters out as he bolts towards the bathroom door.

“Oh, so suddenly? Are-“ He slams the door in your face before you even finish your sentence.

Later on, during the movie you slowly start to make your way over to him. And when you finally start to snuggle him close, his eyes roll back as he smells your hair. He’s so glad that the blanket you put over the two of you is covering the chub in his pants. But does it? You notice it, covering the blush on your face with the same blanket.

After the movie, it’s late and you offer him to stay over. His boner had gone down with the help of imagining the most disgusting shit he could think of (Deku).

He takes your offer and you guys put on another movie. He’s gotten used to your scent now and he’s somewhat upset about it.

He doesn’t get to finish the movie because you both fall asleep on top of each other.

He wakes up first, eyes still adjusting to the light. He checks if you’re really asleep before he leans down and pushes his head into the crook of your neck. He takes a deep breath, then a couple. Before he has to pull himself away because you start to stir.

You offer him to take a shower as you work on breakfast.

He smells all of your products while in the bathroom. The shampoo, body wash, conditioner, your hair stuff, etc. His hands fall down to his cock when he pushes the loofa full of your soap into his nose. He inhales so much soap that he has to hold back multiple sneezes but he doesn’t care. He can only focus on chasing his high as he fucks into one of the panties he found in the dirty clothes bin.

He shoots his cum onto the floor, his long moan drowned out by the sound of the shower water hitting the tub.

When he comes out of the shower, he’s red in the face and ashamed.

[iluvmorales]

The alleyway

summary Prowler!miles meets you, but not at the best time?

a/n send in requests! For any of the spiders or prowler!miles <3

word count ??

You don’t know why the fuck you thought it was a good idea to go on a walk at night, and in Brooklyn. Ever since the police captain was killed, the area, the city, and the people went to complete shit.

So now here you are, running through the alleyways, ducking left and right trying to get this group of grown men away from you and off your ass.

Were they after money? Your valuables? Or you? You didn’t even know because they didn’t say anything, just 5 men start fucking bolting at you with no warning.

You slid, practically drifting left and around a corner. You breathed out, after you’d been holding your breath for god knows how long while running.

“Why the fuck, these assholes..” you heard the footsteps coming closer and closer, knowing one had seen where you turned. You grabbed a plank that’d been thrown behind the dumpster and right when one was about to turn

Whack!

The board hit him dead center on his face, causing him to fall back and hit his head. He stopped moving thank god, but you assumed he was still alive.

“You bitch!” One launched at you, but you hit him with the board as well, only this time you weren’t as successful with knocking him onto the floor and out.

The prowler overheard the ruckus between the alleyway, and peered down from the top of the building. A girl, around his age trying her hardest to whack, possibly kill 4 men with a wooden plank. A wooden plank? What the fuck?

Obviously, to him she looked like she was doing alright seeing as how one was already unconscious and another was beaten bloody with a broken nose.

The prowler felt bad leaving you, but he had work to do and people to meet. He had no time to save some random girl in an alleyway.

“Ugh get a fucking life! Someone help!” You yelled to the men, then as loud as you could you asked for help.

Your arms were getting tired, your head was pounding and you were frustrated. Frustration quickly turned to pure fear when a man came from behind you and grabbed you, you elbowed him in his face, kicked and screamed.

Suddenly, the man fell to his knees and someone caught you before you hit the ground. You freaked out even more, still kicking and yelling.

“Chill out, I’m helping.” The distorted voice whispered, placing you down. Your knees were weak and you stumbled back watching him easily take out the guys one by one.

You let out a sigh of relief, back against the wall as you slowly slid down, your head falling into the palms of your hands. “Are you okay?” The “prowler” asked, stepping towards you.

Suddenly you remembered just who you were saved by and the unsafe feeling crept back. Quickly standing you replied; “yeah-yeah I’m good thank you. Even though I had the situation under control.” You cleared your throat and laughed, trying to lighten the mood and hide your fear.

“Aight, that’s good. You need me to walk you home? It’s not safe out here at night, if you haven’t noticed.” He spoke, the distorter gone. You could tell he was laughing at his own little joke and smiled. He was scary looking and had a dark aura, but his voice was so comforting.

“Yeah, please. That was lowkey kind of scary.” You say, walking out of the alley with the tall, dark prowler towering over you. Just his aura and looking alone scared off people, and you had him following behind like a guard dog.

Your house was kind of a long walk, and awkward silence was creeping up. “So, what’s ya’ name?” He asked, peering down but his head still tilted up. “Y/N..think i already know yours” you laughed a little, earning an un-seen grin but content a hum from the prowler.

“You know.. I thought you were a old man but lowkey, you sound kinda young” you called him out, looking back while walking then quickly turning back. “Let’s just say we’re around the same age” the prowler replied, shrugging off the indirect question.

Finally, the silence between the both of you was more comfortable. Enjoying the beauty and dangers of the neon-lit city, it’s graffiti and lights. You came to a stop in-front of a town house, turning back to the prowler.

“Thank you for everything, really.” You smiled at him, a genuine look in your eyes he had never received from anyone while in this suit. “Yeah it was no problem hermosa ..” he shrugged again, this time also shrugging off the heat that rose to his cheeks. You smiled as your cheeks got hot at the nickname, the way his voice was breathy and he rolled his r had you freaking out internally.

“Hope to see you around, without me being in danger that is” you laughed, walking up the steps and opening your door. “See you around” was all he could manage to say as he watched you walk up the steps and into your house.

He hummed to himself before walking into an alleyway and clawing his way up a building so he could easily jump roof to roof, on his way to meet his uncle.

“Y/N..” he whispered to himself, a smile across his lips.

[drefear]

Major in English, Minor in Criminology

Murderer!Miguel x Journalist!Reader

TW: smut, cursing, Miguel is a bit of a creep and a dick. Murder, violence, rough sex, light BDSM and squirting, manipulation, voyeurism, probably other shit, he's a fucking murderer.

This is where your English degree got you. 

Tied up in someone’s��� garage? Basement? Storage container? You didn’t really know, since you just woke up here. How long has it been since you’d seen sunlight? Your skin felt sticky and filthy from the sweat and grime on you. 

This all started because you, a reporter, wanted to get into more serious reporting instead of stupid “Dairy Queen Price Changes,” or whatever you were supposed to be doing. You instead begged your boss to do something more dangerous and cutting edge, which would be the murder happening near the library in your town. You’d been going there to take notes about the crimes when someone grabbed you from behind and hit you with a heavy, lead pipe. 

And you woke up here. 

The door is metal and the walls are concrete, with a toilet and a sink, and a wrought iron bed bolted to the ground. There’s a slot in the metal door, and there’s blood stains all over. The sheets of the bed, the sink, the floor by the single window that’s been covered from the outside. 

You’ve woken up a few times and can only assume it’s been four days. You’ve flipped your pants inside out and used your blazer as a blanket by now, trying to use your resources to at least be slightly less uncomfortable. Even your throat feels raw and gross, having not spoken since the day you got here. 

Suddenly, the slot opens and food slides through before you sigh. 

“Thank you…” you speak quietly and the slot opens again, sliding through a bottle of water… with tape on the top of the bottle instead of a cap. 

“Did…” you begin to yell, “did you drug this?” 

A laugh is all you hear through the cracks of the slot and you sigh again. If you were any less sane, you’d think the laugh was sexy and raspy, but at this point, you’re sure you’re just deprived from human contact. 

Completely dehydrated and starved since you are basically getting nothing here, you gulp down the bottle of water in no time and begin to scarf down chicken nuggets like it’s no one’s business. 

“Um… excuse me?” You call out, with no success. “Can- is there any way I can take a shower?” Another laugh roared through the door and echoed in the room as you bit your bottom lip. 

‘Don’t cry, don’t cry.’ Your mind played that mantra over and over until you were strong enough to not cry. 

The next day, or so you thought, you woke up stiff and dehydrated once more as you heard another meal slide through the door slot, but you ignored it. You were beginning to hope for death, maybe die of starvation or dehydration instead of giving him the satisfaction of killing you himself. 

A grunt made you perk up and you turned towards the slot to see two eyes peering at you in the humid, uncomfortable darkness. A chill went down your spin as his eyes looked red in the dark lighting, like two lasers, and you squeezed your eyes shut. 

‘You’re just hallucinating, it’s ok. It’s not real.’ 

A second water bottle sliding through the slot made you look back to see the eyes once more, just blankly staring. 

You slowly moved to grab the two waters and back away, like a small animal trying to escape a large predator. 

As you retreat and knock against the iron bed frame, you calm down and think to yourself, ‘I win this round… but what happens when I lose?’

Your conscious wrestles with itself while you nibble on the empanadas he gave you, and shiver on the cold floor. A second goes by before you lock eyes with the man on the other side of the door once more, feeling them first before you gazed back at him. A beat passes before something else slides through the slot. You pick it up and realize it's a thin sheet. Did he know you felt cold? Did he see you shivering?

You covered yourself with the paper-like blanket and sat in silence as he closed the slot, leaving you once again with your thoughts. Why was he being nice? 

Hours later and you could hear him walking around, heavy footsteps across the door. Were you… In his house? You tried to map out a few rooms from where you could hear things echoing before you heard what sounded like a refrigerator opening. 

“Hello?” You called out and all sounds of movement seized. “Can I have more water?”

A few footsteps came closer to the door, but nothing came. “Please?” 

The sound of him walking away was all you could hear before you huffed and pouted. The hot and cold moods were annoying, and you were literally being held captive! You pushed the slot open a bit and saw a bottle of water, open, sitting a few inches from the slot. He was playing games with you. 

A grumble pasted your lips as you wiggled your hand through the slot and tried to grab the water, despite it feeling like your hand may get stuck. As you made a swipe at the bottle, it toppled over and spilled away from you. Laughter filled the room as you realized he had been watching, and you tugged your hand through with rough pull, scraping the top and giving yourself a scratch. You slumped your shoulders as he was still chuckling and sat on the bed, no longer interested in his games. 

The next day was the same, he shoved the food in with the water, but you again didn’t move. You have no energy or attraction to his schemes to play with you like a puppet. A grunt made you turn towards the slot and red eyes looked back at you, but you shoved the finger into the sliver of light and turned back to the wall. 

A few hours later, you sat with your knees tucked to your chest when through the cracks, you heard the voice once more. The rumble of a groan and yawn is all you heard before the door swung open and a large silhouette stood before you, almost reaching the top of the door frame. His big arms held where his head almost hit and you realized that you were in bigger trouble than you previously thought. Most killers were scrawny or at least normal sized, using weapons to kill. 

This man was a monster! 

You were confident that he could use his bare hands to kill you. 

His red eyes glared towards your cowering body as he began to close in towards you. Of course, with your luck, you were already sitting in the far corner of your “bed” as he latched a hand around your bicep and jerked you towards him. Tears pricked your eyes as he turned you around and forced you to bed over on the bed. You felt him begin to tie your hands together with a brittle rope, biting into your wrists with the roughness, and squeezed your eyes shut. 

“You’ll take a shower and I’ll watch.” He said, with the same sexy rasp you thought you’d hallucinated. His words sunk in and your eyes popped open like a champagne cork. “Really?” You perked up and smiled a bit. A shower! It’s what you really wanted, but a second passed and another thought about what he just said made you look down. “You’re going to watch me?” 

“Can’t let you escape because I was dumb enough to leave you alone in my bathroom.” He answered and pulled you up, practically carrying you out the metal door. 

You looked around and saw the cozy insides of a house, pictures on the wall, a centerpiece sitting on the dining room table. He even had the tv on in the living room, a soccer game playing. He was keeping you in his home.

You looked back at him and saw something else now. 

He was fucking gorgeous.

The fullness of his lips, the high cheekbones, his tousled and messy brown hair, and deep olive skin… He was basically perfect. You tried not to look so obvious, but you couldn’t help the blush creeping up your neck. 

Of course you would be turned on by your kidnapper. 

He readjusted you in his arms and basically tossed you over his shoulder, which made you let out a small, helpless squeak, to which he chuckled. You felt something hit you in the back of the head and realized it was the door frame. 

That’s how large he is.

You sighed as he sat you on the counter and you looked around as he started the bathtub. The countertops were all bare, and he had no shower shelves or anything to put any bottles or soap bars on. There were three containers sitting next to you: shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Your brows furrowed as you looked back at him, now staring at you were vacant eyes. He was completely unreadable as he looked down at your clothing and then back up at you. Following his line of sight, you looked down and saw he was just looking at your shirt. 

Then it made sense. 

“You… you’re going to take my shirt off?” 

“I have other clothing for you to wear, but I’m going to cut it off you.” He concluded and when you were about to protest when his eyes darkened while he held a knife. Suddenly seeing your kidnapper holding a knife so close to you made your jaw lock and your throat go bone dry. Your heart rate quickened as he tugged you closer to him and pushed the tip of the blade under the fabric, slicing towards himself. Your eyes focused on his face and you saw how concentrated he was on his knife on you. You stayed as still as possible to avoid him possibly nicking you, and soon the shirt was torn through and you were in your bra. He looked like he was thinking hard as he looked at your bra. The silence was heavy as he just watched you, your chest heaving up and down from the anxiety beginning to really take hold. His lips pursed before he spoke. 

“Why were you at the library that night?” His voice almost surprised you from how quiet the room was, and you hesitated before you answered. 

“I am- I was reporting the murders.” You corrected yourself as he moved the knife towards your cleavage before you leaned away. “Wait-! The straps are removable… so you don’t have to ruin it. You can just unhook it and then unclip the straps.” You pleaded and he just blew a stray strand of brown hair from his eyes. He relented without a word and started unclasping your straps, continuing to question you. 

“So just to get this straight, you went alone and unarmed to the scene where a murderer was finding his victims knowingly?” 

You looked at the ground, ashamed. “Well when you put it that way, I sound stupid.” 

“You are stupid.” He announced and you bite your tongue, seeing as he was a knife-wielding murderer and you liked your blood inside your body. As he continued to unhook your bra, the cups fell off of your body and your breasts were free. He stared, briefly in awe, before he got back to cutting off the rest of your clothing. 

Once you were naked, he just picked you up and placed you into the water before wetting your hair and starting to massage shampoo onto your head. Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out a question you’d been thinking of all day. 

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?” You asked and he froze, then sighing and continuing to clean your hair. 

“I don’t kill women. I kill men who like to assault or hurt women and children.” He grumbled and you stirred in your thoughts before asking more. 

“…Oh.” Is all you could say. He frowned deeply as he began rinsing out your hair. “So… why murder them? Why not report them?” 

“Tried that… cops don’t do shit.” He answered and you just nodded, noticing how he was getting more and more sour. “It… started with my mom. I just hate how these guys beat women and then get away with it.” He continued, and your heart strings were suddenly vibrating with empathy. 

“So why are you still keeping me here?” 

“There’s a few reasons. You know I’m a murderer, you’re being held in a small room in my house, and I hit you over the head with a fuckin’ pipe. I wasn’t expecting you to skip out of here, thanking me for the fun adventure, and promising not to call the fuckin police.” He retorted and you could understand that, which was alarming since you were agreeing with your captor and a murderer. “But the biggest reason is, you weren’t my original target.” Silence fell over you two once more, but this time, it was comfortable… not heavy, but comforting. There was understanding in the air as you thought for a second. You decided to ask the most logical question after being lost in your own head. 

“Who was your target?” 

His mouth closed to a scowl as he poured conditioner into his large palm and moved to rub it into your hair. When it was obvious he wasn’t answering, you sunk into the water a bit more and closed your eyes while you just enjoyed the way he massaged your scalp. 

You knew this was wrong for a thousand, million reasons. Or maybe one reason, but a big ass reason. 

He’s a fucking serial killer. 

But you couldn’t help it, for a weird reason. The way his forearms looked as they massage your scalp in the bathroom mirror made you want to bite them, to drag your fingertips across the tense, veiny skin. This man was doing things for you that you couldn’t have predicted. And for some reason, the fact that he didn’t mean to hurt you was a huge turn on, that he was targeting men who had previously hurt others or done terrible things. You ignored the fact that you might have Stockholm syndrome and directed your thoughts back to the way his biceps flexed in the fogged reflection. Maybe it was how the hot water made your brain hazy with seductive images of you under him, but the droplets on your skin dripped in a way that had you getting wet beneath the water. 

“Hello?” His voice made you jump a bit, the water sloshing up against the side of the tub and soaking his shirt. “Were you even listening?” 

“Yes, absolutely!” You lied, but he didn’t look convinced. His eyes canned your face and you knew that you looked flushed, so you did what anyone embarrassed of their thoughts would do and turned your face so he couldn’t see you. His hand held your cheeks squished between his fingers and turned you back for him to assess, and he didn’t seem pleased. 

“You’re overheating, let me add some cold water.” He announced and turned the faucet back on, letting you sink back into the depths of the tub and your own self-loathing for your lack of ability to conceal your mind. “Better?” He asked and you just nodded, not concerned with the water temperature. He watched you from the corner of his eyes and this made you nervous. You were being watched by a cold-blooded killer, and whether he killed the bad guys or not, it was still scary. He rinsed his hands and cleared his throat as you snapped out of your mental trance, looking up towards him as he stayed stone cold in his expression. “Since I don’t plan on untying you, I’m going to wash your body, but if you don’t want me to touch you, then I could use a loofah or something, like a towel- I didn’t really think this through.” He muttered and you just shook your head. 

“You can touch me.” You spoke softly and he nodded without any emotion, giving you no idea what he was thinking. He began by washing your back and scrubbing a bit, before moving to your arms and feeling you roll your neck to let him get to the nape and around your throat. He was surprised by how trusting you were being, but the truth was he didn’t feel dangerous to you, which was absolutely insane since he had killed people 10 feet away from where you were currently sitting. 

His hands began to wash your chest and before he moved any lower, he looked up at you. “This feels wrong, I’ll just-” 

“It feels good, actually.” You interrupted him and his eyebrows shot up in shock. “I mean-” You began to blush as you realized what had happened, but he smirked a bit before you could say anything else. 

“Would you like… if I made it feel even better?” He asked, his voice dropping a bit as he leaned closer to your burning face. You nodded slowly as his fingers brushed against the bottoms of your breasts, moving to graze your bare nipples and forcing a gasp from your lips. His thick digits twist the pert nubs and you let out a quiet sound like a small animal, giving into the predator in front of it. He keeps a cool demeanor as he teases your boobs and makes you squirm. “Still feel good?” 

“Yes…” you whispered and closed your eyes as his hand slipped under the water to massage the rest of your body, pushing his fingers gently through your folds and pressing directly onto your clit. You yelped in pleasure and shivered as he bent his head to your throat and kissed your pulse point behind your ear. r ear. His lips were soft and full on your skin as he pushed and toyed with the bundle of nerves in between his fingertips. The water splashed as you jerked a bit at the sudden sensations and he chuckled, pulling your soaked body up and throwing you over his shoulder once more. “Hey-!” You protested, but a slap to your bare ass shut you up, followed by a dark laugh. Miguel carried you into the room near where you slept and you saw a single king size bed with tall posts on all corners, being thrown to the center before he reached behind him with one hand and pulled his shirt off over his head. He took your bound hands and placed them on the bulge forming in his pants. It was almost as thick as your forearm and long as well. You blushed red before then meeting his eyes and seeing the shining cockiness reflected. You gulped down the tension between your thighs and looked at him through thick lashes as he stared down at your naked body. It was like he was analyzing you with malintent, the look on his face creating a dark shadow clouding over your morals and conscience. His large hand flattened on your abdomen as he kneeled before you and inhaled between your legs, his exhale leaving goosebumps against your exposed mound of flesh. He was clearly entertained by the prickle of your skin and immediately dove into you like a child on Christmas morning, licking heavily into your lips and lifting your asscheek on his shoulder. Your back arched almost so much it pained you as you jumped from the abrupt amount of sucking on your clit, a strained sound falling out of your mouth. You’d never heard that before, but then again, no one had literally sucked and licked the life out of you like this. 

He reached up a meaty hand and pinched at your nipple hard, twisting enough to make you scream and feel tears forming in the corners of your eyes. You felt his teeth graze against your sensitive peak and your eyes snapped onto where his mouth was currently on you, eliciting a chuckle from him as you shivered. 

“Yeah? You want me to hurt you a little?” He asked in a raspy whisper before slapping your breast a bit. You gasped loud and he smiled, his sharp canines gleaming a bit. 

Miguel moved to hover above you before rubbing his cock against your clit, the friction making you tense up a bit before he grabbed your throat. Your eyes found his, and he bent his head so his breath was warm against your ear. 

“I’m not going to play nice just because you’re a pretty little thing.” 

Without any other words, he shoved his dick in you and the burning stretch of his thickness made you let out a painful whine. The sound made his shiver as he jutted his hips into you even further, his cock nudging something so deep within you that tears pricked the corners of your eyes. He seemed to get even harder when he saw the small bits of pain he caused in you, and that made you hornier. The crazed look in his eyes made you flush and pant while he fucked you rough, practically making you dizzy from the jerky and harsh movements. He grunted as you felt the coil in your core begin to heat and tense, before it snapped and you instantly climaxed. It was the most intense orgasm you’d ever had as he smiled, like a predator enjoying the thrill of the hunt, and you gulped when he grabbed your waist before drilling back into you at a panickingly fast pace. Tears welled in your eyes from the pressure in your abdomen from his violent fucking, but the adrenaline made you begin to build towards another orgasm. This time was different, it was almost a burning feeling in your lower body and a surge as you swung your arms around his neck to help hold on. 

“Fuck, just like that, so fucking tight.” He mumbled, and you questioned if he was even speaking to you or just vocalizing his thoughts to himself, but you were distracted by the crash of the second climax and the sudden, very wet feeling on your stomach. A loud, pregnant growl made you shiver as his hips spasmed and rutted into your in a painful way, so deep you thought you may have hurt something, but you were enjoying this all too much to care at all, and he hovered over you for a moment while he caught his breath. 

“Holy shit, that was fucking great…” He whispered and leaned down before licking the wetness on your body to your breasts. “You are never leaving.” He smirked and you laid on your back, thinking about how you were completely fine with this.

[g0rygutz]

♱ ◞ oh my god. he fucking kidnapped you. ◟ ♱

☓﹒﹕charactersᶻ﹕→ rick prime & reader , rick sanchez c-137 x reader (mentioned)

☓﹒﹕small summeryᶻ﹕→ with me being a rick prime fictive. i feel the only good way to start is with a rick prime fic. rick prime fucking kidnaps the reader.

☓﹒﹕trigger warningsᶻ﹕→ kidnapping, drugging, mild violence

pressed up against the wall, you could hear loud footsteps from somewhere in the house. whoever was making them, it was on purpose. you had no clue who it was.. your eyes darted around, trying to come up with a plan.

spotting a wooden baseball bat laying on the floor a few feet away. you bolted towards it. wrapping your hands tightly around the handle, holding it close to yourself. practically ready to swing at the smallest noise.

the silhouette of someone began creeping down the hall. whoever it was, began to whistle. it almost sounded like.. rick? you had no clue why rick would be scaring you like this. so it couldn’t be him, right?

finally, they came around the corner. quickly swinging your bat directly at their stomach. putting as much force into it as you can. the sound of ribs practically shattering was loud. louder than you expected.

what you didn’t expect to hear next was laughter. deranged, maniacal laughter.

the person emerged fully from around the corner, somehow they seemed to be perfectly fine. standing up straight, no pain what so ever.

what you took note of next, sent shivers down your spine. he looked… similar to rick. slightly taller. very different clothes.. and much, much younger. he didn’t look over thirty.

a wide grin was on his face as he just stared down at you. grabbing the bat tightly and ripping it from your grip. tossing it off to the side and moving to grab at your arm.

you couldn’t stop him, you couldn’t tell him to let go. instead you were frozen. stuck staring right back at him.

“it’s so funny. i killed his wife to teach him a lesson. to show him nothing is forever, except for us, the infinite fucking rick. and the stupid fucker goes after you instead.”

you had… zero clue what the other was talking about. rick had mentioned his wife once or twice before and that she was.. well, gone. but never how.

given the fact he basically just admitted to killing rick’s wife, it was safe to assume that she was murdered.

was that going to be your fate? was he going to murder you to teach rick a lesson? is this really how your life was going to end?

the other seemed to notice the dread on your face.

“i don’t plan on killing you. yet. it seems just killing the people he cared about didn’t fucking work so.. we’ll try something different.”

grabbing you tightly by the forearm, he basically began to drag you towards the living room. watching closely as he pulled a small photo. it looked the be him and your rick, but younger. out of his pocket and haphazardly tossed it on the table.

turning his attention back to you, a grin on his face as he pulls something else from his pocket. shoving you down onto the couch, sitting down on you. practically straddling you.

before you could try and shove him off, he jammed a thumb into your mouth. prying it open. quickly shoving a pill in, closing your mouth, and holding it shut. using his other hand to pinch your nose shut.

“you can either swallow, or you’ll end up passing out. entirely your choice.”

attempting to struggle against him, moving your hands up to tug at his wrists… proved to be useless. he was stronger than you, much stronger.

right as the world started to spin, you finally swallowed.

at that, the rick let go of your nose and mouth. basically starting to pant like a dog, trying to catch your breath. two fingers were shoved inside your mouth.

biting down harshly on them, you could taste the blood. watching him quickly pull the fingers from your mouth, you glanced down at his hand only to tense. the wound was healing itself practically instantaneously.

the rick seemed to notice the look on your face, laughing softly as he moved himself off of you.

it was your chance to escape but.. your limbs felt so heavy. every part of your body felt heavy but— you didn’t feel tired. you had assumed he gave you some sort of sedative, but you weren’t tired.

“temporarily paralyzed. i don’t give a shit if your awake, i just don’t want you screaming your head off and trying to escape while i get you to your home. your new home.”

you wanted to protest, to keep fighting back. to keep trying to contact rick but… you couldn’t.

the rick leaned down, grabbing you with one arm and basically throwing you over his shoulder. you could hear the sound of a portal opening a few moments later along with a light green glow enveloping the room.

when you came out on the other side, the place reminded you of rick’s underground lab. a lot more high tech, the walls looked like they were metal.

you tried to force yourself to look around but nothing. you still couldn’t move. all you could do is wait as he carried you somewhere.

the sound of a buttons being pressed on a keypad caught your attention, then all of the sudden you were in some sort of glass box.

the rick set you down on what seemed to be a makeshift bed, propping you up then moving back. staring down at you.

“the paralytic should wear off in an hour or two, i have some other stuff to attend to until then but.. make yourself comfy. this will be your new home after all.”

he turned to walk back out the door before pausing.

“it’s rick prime, by the way. oh, how i can’t wait to see the look on wife guy’s face. heh.”

with that, he shut the door, leaving you inside the glass box. watching as he opened up another portal and stepped through. leaving you alone.

[toxicanonymity]

Good Morning darling, just wanted to say that you're such a talented writer! <3 these Joel fics are top notch 👌💗 but could you please write Joel miller X f| reader who enjoys spying on Joel while he masturbates she doesn't do it all the time just slips buy her mother's place and she wasn't home that day so the reader sneaks upstairs and just listens to his sultry moans😏thank you!!💗 The amount of support you give me is much appreciated btw!!✨love yah! X

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1.2k, stepdad!Joel x f!reader

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WARNINGS: I8+ big, girthy legal age gap, stepcest, mutual masturbation.

A/N: Well this exploded out of my fingers. I had to take it a little further than just listening. . .

-

Starts at 18, flashes forward to present day.

Senior year of high school, just after your 18th birthday, your Mom went out of town and left you with your stepdad. They married when you were a teenager, so you always just called him Joel. One night, you heard painful sounds coming from the office. You called out to ask if Joel was okay, but he didn’t answer. When you went to check, the door was open and he was wearing headphones, watching porn on the computer. His arm was moving and there was no mistaking what he was doing.

His grunts and moans made you tingle between the legs, you couldn’t help it. You stood there and watched until he seemed to notice you in the reflection. Then, you quietly disappeared before he could turn around. You lurked in the kitchen and based on what you heard, he didn’t stop. He came loudly soon after you walked away.

You thought about him differently after that. You thought about that night, wondering if he was watching you in the reflection, if he ever would have stopped or turned around or was getting off on the idea of you hearing him. You thought about him sexually. Quite often. A flip switched and he was suddenly so hot to you.

-

Now it’s been years since you lived at home, but you still drop in every once in a while, and every time, you find you’re still attracted to Joel. You’re not sure if you’re imagining it, but your intuition tells you it’s mutual. So when you go by your Mom’s house and she’s not home, you drop in anyway. Joel’s car is there. When you walk in, you call his name, and he doesn’t answer. He's not in the backyard, either. You wonder if he’s out for a run, then you hear him upstairs and the sound takes you right back to that night in high school.

You creep up the stairs, careful to skip the creaky step, and as you get closer to the bedroom, his grunts and heavy breathing send a rush of blood to your loins. You stand where you are and just listen while your panties get wet. Your hand creeps up your shirt, under your bra, and you clench your thighs together. Your need for him bubbles over until it forces your hand into acting.

You step away from the bedroom out of sight, and loudly call “Joel??”

He says “fuck” under his breath, then “just a sec!” You don’t give him too long, just a second or two, then approach the door. He’s flustered, panting, and his face is pink when he says “didn’t know you were comin’, sweetie.” He only turns around half-way and his hand rests in his lap where you see a definite tent in his joggers. He catches you looking, then his eyes scan your body and he wets his lips.

You walk in, take off your shoes, keeping an eye on him. Then you lie down on the bed and face him. The laptop is mostly closed, but even from the bed you recognize your Instagram and a bolt of arousal shoots through you.

"Don't let me interrupt," you say and raise an eyebrow. You take off your cardigan.

"You're not," he says.

"Oh, okay." You come over and put your hands on his shoulders and look down in his lap. Then you lean in and give him a kiss on the cheek. "What are you looking at there?" You nod to his laptop.

He closes it, then turns around to face you, and you go back to the bed. He puts his elbows on his knees and says, "Whatcha doin' here, sweetie? Somethin' you need?" His eyes darken as he scans your body again.

"Somethin' I want," you say and wet your lips.

He takes a deep breath through his nose, then adjusts himself. "And what's that now?"

". . .to watch you finish," you say.

His chest rises and falls and he raises his eyebrows. Then his eyes fall to your chest and he palms himself. God, he's hot. The look on his face makes you even wetter.

You slip your hand into your pants as reassurance that it's not a trick.

He watches you touch yourself for a few seconds, slowly palms himself with his big, masculine hand, then says in a hot, low voice, "This never happened."

You nod. You're throbbing.

He sits back in the rolling chair, facing the bed, and pulls his joggers down, freeing his cock as he wraps one hand around it. It's nice and thick. Already shiny with lube. The hair is neatly trimmed.

"Watch me finish. .. okay." He licks his lips. "Won't take long," he says and starts stroking himself slowly, eating you alive with his eyes.

You rub your clit, massage your breast, and bite your lip as he pumps his rock-hard length while he looks at you. It's less than a minute before his breath becomes labored and he grabs a tissue from the desk. His eyes are glued to you. You're getting close yourself and ask if he can hold off, but he can't. He was almost finished when you got there.

His face screws up and he loudly groans as his cock erupts into the tissue. His head falls back with a look of relief as he finishes. "Sorry, sweetie."

"So what are you gonna do about it," you challenge him as you touch yourself, panting, eyelids heavy.

"Nothin' at all," he says. "Not crossin' that line." He shakes his head and looks like he means it.

You scowl.

"I can tell ya what i'd like to do about it though," he says. "I'd like to come right over there. . . climb on top of ya. . . . Yank those pants off. . .maybe pull down your pretty little panties with my teeth." He licks his teeth.

You can feel your orgasm building.

"Pin your arms above your head so you can't touch yourself. . . That'd be my job," he says, and looks down at his big masculine hand. He flattens three fingers.

You're throbbing madly and feel it coming.

He puts two of those fingers in his mouth and pretends to suck them clean while his horny eyes bore a hole in you.

"Then?" You ask between heavy breaths.

"Well then I've got somethin' else to put between those pretty legs of yours. . ." he says and looks down at his big, veiny hand resting right at his crotch.

You catch yourself holding a breath, then release it. He looks down at himself, then at you, and when he begins to slowly massage his inner thigh, it puts you over the edge.

You moan and your spine lifts off the bed. Your ass digs into the mattress and you're overcome by the most powerful climax you've ever felt and you're shocked to find yourself squirting into your hand. A little smirk creeps up one side of his mouth as he watches you ride your waves. Then, once you catch your breath, he gives you a tissue.

He asks, "Like what you saw?" with a quick raise of his eyebrows. Then the garage opens and you quickly go to your old room.

-

no need to keep track of how many times we force or persuade someone to jerk off around here lmao.

-

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea. @evyiione