#fucks up. big time. goes off and fucks around with other people

[joyceyayo]

Stanford & Stanley Pines NSFW alphabet Pt. 1

A/n - there is some freaky shit, you’ve been warned.

A = aftercare (what they like after sex)

Ford: He gets flustered after, often embarrassed of things he said or did in the heat of the moment. But that won’t stop him from wrapping his arms around you and cuddling you to sleep.

Stan: If it’s a one night stand, I think he’s partial to leaving right after. Maybe a pat on the ass to say goodbye. but if be really cares for you hes all about aftercare. You often see him smirking after, cocky and proud of himself. He’ll almost always snap open a Pitt and light a cigarette, holding it to your mouth for a drag if you ask nicely.

B = body part (favorite body part of theirs and their partners)

Ford: He always says his brain, but if you say he’s annoying and cheated, he’ll give you his honest answer. Which is his chin; he never really thought about it until a girl from BMU said he had the perfect mouth and chin to sit on, which had him blushing every time he thought about it for weeks. And yes. All the girls there were that forward. So suffice to say, he got his fair share of pussy there. And he never minded his smile; he liked how you could always tell him and Stanley apart from their smiles. And you can’t disagree with any of this :)

Stan: His arms. When he hit puberty, he barely noticed and honestly disliked the broad shoulders and big arms he was developing a bit. It's just another thing for people to pick on him for. But one day, when he and Ford were next to each other in the mirror, Ford said something about, “How are we genetically identical, yet you’re the one who got dad’s arms?” Ever since, he didn’t seem to mind them.

C = Cum (where they like to cum ofc 😋)

Ford: Inside of you. All day. Every day. Not literally, of course. Or maybe…? He doesn’t know. What he knows is that all day every day, his brain is wracked with thoughts about stressful and dire shit he can’t control one bit… but when he fills you up, it’s like a switch is flipped that turns all of that off, and he’s just with you.

Stan: Tits, ass, face. The man isn’t picky as long as he gets to cum on you while looking right at you.

D = dirty secret (a dirty secret obviously)

Ford: This man steals your fucking panties. Used ones, too. You’ve found the panties you thought went missing accidentally left in his pocket while doing laundry. You playfully scolded him while slapping his arm with them, calling him a dirty old man. But you let up a bit because he was so cute when he got embarrassed about it, turning bright red and chuckling.

Stan: takes Polaroids of you sleeping after sex… he thinks it’s normal enough. He keeps them in his bedside table, and depending on how long you last, you will go for years oblivious to such photos.

E = experience (how experienced are they?)

Ford: experienced enough to make you feel great. I mean, he went to Backupsmore… I feel like they get freaky, but not Ford. Was definitely a virgin until college, but had his fair share of fun when he got there. One time took notes while watching an orgy. He had so many questions… not many were answered.

Stan: very experienced. When he was hopping from state to state trying out his brands, he was also trying out the women; he can't tell you how many times he'd got blown and ridden in the stan mobile... and he didn’t mind it.

F = favorite position (this goes without saying)

Ford: good ol’ fashioned missionary for Fordsy over here. He could give you love bites all down your body in that position for hours and probably will

Stan: doggy. He wants to pull your hair and pull your ass onto him. He’ll never get enough of watching his cock disappear inside of you, and that’s something you’ll just have to come to terms with ;)

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

Ford: Serious, he’s not thinking enough to joke around. He’s in a primal headspace where even if you made a joke, he’d just groan and shrug it off, getting back to work.

Stan: it depends on the vibe you’re giving off. If he feels like you’re being more playful, he’ll naturally act that way.

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

Ford hasn’t even thought about it; he’s clean. And yes, absolutely, he’s grey all the way. If you do mention you don’t like his body hair, it will reward you with his most embarrassed and distraught look, but he’ll trim it up without a second thought.

Stan: He knows he has a lot of hair, don’t mention it. Around his 40s, he just stopped fucking caring. He thinks it was the shoulder hair that did him in.

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

Ford: as intimate as you can imagine. He doesn’t just fuck Willy Nilly. He only gets into bed with someone he cares for. So there’s a lot of kissing and sweet talk from him, an ‘I love you’ every 30 seconds if you’ve said that to each other.

Stan: Again, it entirely depends on who he's with. If it’s more of a one-night stand, he’ll get a bit scared off if you’re too romantic. But if you’re together… you’re in for it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Ford: He does it to keep a straight head when he’s alone, without you, but overall, when he’s with you, he feels no need to do all that.

Stan: partook in it a lot when he was on the road, not in a way he ever did before. He did it not to think. But that was before you. When he’s away from you, he finds himself doing it while thinking about you, drifting into a fantasy where you are touching him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Ford: He hates to say it, but breeding. He can’t get enough of the primal feeling of cuming inside of you… and you don’t mind either.

Stan: cuffs. Maybe it’s all the times he’s been in them that it turns him on to be the one putting them on and deciding when they come off. (Of course, if you asked to get out, he’d do it readily)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Ford: He really quite enjoys the routine that may seem mundane to some, such as getting into bed with you each night and making love with you after a long day.

Stan: again, he doesn’t mind fucking in his car; in fact, he loves it. His seats go wayyyy back, too ;)

A/n more coming soon!

[henrycangelbaby]

Babydaddy!simon marrying you!!!!!

(gang this is 18+ im lowkey sorry im horny and can barley write smut lol)

You and Simon elope. It’s a lot easier than an actual wedding, even if it would be only small. It’s not like you have many people to invite anyway; Simon would die before having his workmates at something so personal, and motherhood had kept you from seeing your friend for a while now (you’re sure they would show up if you asked, but it all seems like too much work pregnant). Not even the kids come; the eldest has some idea of what is going on but not enough to care that they are being left out of something very important. The others don’t care, happy and content to sit staring at subtitles all day rather than being dragged to a marriage ceremony. 

Simon gets a sitter for them; desperate to prove his worthiness back into your life (even though you are about to marry him), he sets it up and prays it goes off without a hitch. It’s a courthouse wedding; Simon wears a rare button-down top and slacks that you don’t remember ever seeing before (you haven’t he realised that he didn’t have anything remotely nice to get married in and snuck out to get some after work). You wear a sweet satin mini dress; it’s more light blue than white, but neither you nor Simon could pretend to care about that. Simon certainly can’t care, or, for that matter, focus when your legs are on display like that; he feels a certain amount of anger that other people (a geriatric marriage officiant) should get to see the sinful way that your bump is already pressing up against the light blue fabric, breasts popping out to create cleavage that both he and his youngest want a lick at (although for very different reasons). 

It's a quick process; they arrive around midday. It seems to be the best time to get a sitter to cover. The ceremony is basically over before it began. It’s a quick and simple thing; it’s romantic and makes Simon’s heart ache but is over quickly. Both have short vows. Simon promises over and over again that you’ll never be alone again; he apologizes for not being as present as he should and so on and so forth. He slips the ring onto your hand, and just like that, you're happily married, walking back to the car hand in hand. Simon cannot keep his hands off you the second you are both in the car. 

“My pretty little wife,” he murmurs into your neck, pulling you into his lap the second you are both seated, kissing up and down your neck, murmuring in disbelief that you're actually finally his wife. 

He feels like a horny teenager again, his love boner painful as you make out. You don’t let it go further, reminding him that you have a house full of children to get home to. Children who are ecstatic to see you both, they are getting used to seeing Simon around every day, but they certainly aren’t used to not seeing you. The rest of the day goes by as normal, not that Simon feels normal; in fact, he feels unabashedly horny. He has to escape his kids; when you get home, he throws a 

“bathroom” over his shoulder before rushing upstairs. 

He jerks off fast and almost painfully, something so reminiscent of when he is on deployment, hard as hell after receiving a photo from you. The text says, “30-week appointment.” The accompanying image shows you standing in front of a mirror, bra tight over your breasts and belly big and bare, a hand pushed into your back to counter the weight. ‘Fuck,’ he texts back. ‘That’s hot,’ is all he says, already going back in his memories to find a scenario to jerk off to. 

He doesn’t need a scenario today; seeing you all pregnant and pretty wearing his ring—holy fuck, it’s got him going. Going so much that he spills over into the sink, washing away his precious come that he intends to keep you swollen and round with. 

That night after the kids had gone to bed, he fucks you hard, calling you his “pretty little wife” and promising to keep you pregnant over and over again. He groans when you moan; you promise that you're his, his wife to keep barefoot and pregnant till the end of time. 

[jedibongrip]

painful au where obikin are extremely unhappy coparents to luke and leia because they couldnt get their shit together to have a healthy relationship and just be PARENTS so now they have to do extremely bitchy and heartache-filled child drop offs in public parking lots

[vampmilf]

hold on im still too mad at this one fucking guest to take a nap i need to be a hater for a minute

[s0dium]

Creep

Warnings: Creepy/stalker behavior, breeding kink, pussydrunk behavior, cumflation, stomach bulge, subspace, premature ejaculation, orgasms

~

You know it's wrong, so wrong to enjoy the attention of a creep.

At least, that's what people call him. But through the snickers and sidelong glances that surround him, there's something about him that intrigues you, attracts you, something you can't seem to get out of your head.

It starts off small, letting him eye you from across the room and flashing him a small smile. Then you notice he starts to get bolder, more confident in his advances. As the days pass, his presence becomes a constant in your routine. He waits for you after class, catches you alone in elevators, leans in closer during conversations, and even starts to find excuses to touch your arm or shoulder. Each interaction feels like a challenge, a test of boundaries that seems he's all too willing to push.

In the beginning, you almost listen to the unease flickering in the back of your mind, warning that maybe you are playing with fire. But as the tension builds, you find your resolve slowly melting, small touches on your arm turn grazes against your ass and the quick glances evolve into him blatantly checking you out.

So only you can be blamed for the situation you're in right now. Only you can be blamed for letting it get like this.

His hips snapped so fast you can't think, you can breathe. Pleasure courses through your body in electric flesh arrows and you could feel your pussy clench around his length in a futile attempt to adjust for his massive size. How could a creep like him be so big? Jesus, you could feel his mushroom tip press against your cervix every time he slammed into you. Countless loads of cum dripped from where you two were connected onto the white sheets below. At any given time he'd blow his load right into you and without much of a stutter fuck the liquid back into you, until he reached his high again and started the cycle over again.

"Mine," he grunts out, his breath hot against your cheek from the brutal mating press he has you in. The bed shook with every thrust, the head board banging against the wall from the way your cervix was getting absolutely abused. The friction, the way he filled you up so perfectly, his hot skin against yours, it was too much, too overwhelming, and your brain couldn't handle the pleasure. You could feel the euphoria absorb your body, making your toes curl and uncurl from the sheer pleasure.

"G-gonna cum in you again" He says through a moan, peppering kissed along your jaw. "Gonna fill you up, make you feel so so good." He doesn’t slow his movement, instead picking up one of your legs and throwing it over his shoulder so he can reach even deeper. He places his other hand on your belly, rubbing your skin with his thumb.

"You feel me?" He coos, pressing down on your stomach, intensifying the pressure of his cock inside you and making your moans grow even louder.

"I can feel you, I can feel you squeezing me, feel so good, better than my fist." He chuckles and grabs your throat, squeezing it so your brain goes fuzzy with the slight light of oxygen.

His breathing becomes jagged and with a soft whimper followed by a silent "oh-fu", he blows his load into your battered pussy. There is no warning when cums into you, only the slight stutter of his hips that does nothing to deter his brutal pace. You are soaked down there, his sticky cum leaking out of you as he pushes into you over and over again. But you couldn't be bothered to look right now, you couldn’t open your eyes and ignore the colors you were seeing behind your eyelids. Everything was good - so, so, so good. Your skin was buzzing, mind cloudy, and the only thing you could focus on was the throbbing that was taking over your body.

"You gonna cum?" He coos into your ear, punctuating his words with an extra sharp thrust. "Cum for me, please." 

As if on cue, you gasp, and let your orgasm wash over you. He doesn't stop his movements, instead, he fucks you through your orgasm until your crying for him to stop.

"Not gonna stop, gonna fuck you until m' shooting blanks okay?"

SHIGARAKI, YUUTA OKKATSU, L LAWLIET, SHINSO, KENMA, GYUTARO

[steviescrystals]

what is it like actually spending time with your friends bc i wouldn’t know

[satoruan]

HELL BENT — RYOMEN SUKUNA

✧･ﾟ The Incubus King finally claims his intended.  

( TW ) f!reader, incubus king!Sukuna, major size difference (Sukuna’s 8ft tall!), harem, group sex, fingering, cunnilingus, biting, rough sex, bleeding, forked tongues, cervix fucking, mating bonds, reader goes in some type of ‘heat’, explicit content. 

word count - > 1.5k

author's note: PLS don’t take this seriously Idek what this is!! unedited + I'm trying a new writing style

Can’t stop thinking about Incubus king!Sukuna who finally finds his intended after centuries of looking. Who finds her in a place he never thought to check, the human realm. Who he kidnaps and brings down to his realm, telling you how you are to be his queen and rule his subjects alongside him. You have a mental breakdown your first week. The change of scenery, coming to terms that this is real, the differences between you and Sukuna’s species he calls Incubus. You’ve heard of them before, but you didn't think they were real—who did? They’re eight feet tall, winged creatures who liked to fuck 24/7. Half of them roam around naked and you can’t turn a hallway without catching two or more in sexual activities. So, hearing that you're some type of ‘mate’ to the king of the creatures? You think you’re dreaming. Sukuna brings you food every day and talks about how the mating bond has been activated now. How the several next week's you’re going to be restless until he ruts and claims you. 

You scream and cry how this is his fault. He leans over the buffet of food and smacks your thigh with a grumble. You refuse to speak to him for the rest of the night even when he undresses and washes you. Making crude comments like how he can’t wait to breed your human body full of his offsprings. Sukana who doesn’t have the time for your refusal to talk to him for he has a kingdom to run, so he drops you off to a group of naked, pierced women who he calls his harem. He gently pushes you into one of the tall women before telling her to take care of you or else.  

You can’t find it in your to be jealous of the women for being his ‘harem.’ You don’t even like Sukuna right now and the women, they’re so kind and mature that you would much rather spend your days lazing around with them than sitting on Sukuna’s lap while he laughs at his people who come to him with misfortunes.  His harem teaches you all about their lands, how sex isn’t taboo instead something they need just like oxygen is to humans. How when they fuck, they release some type of energy that’s built up in their body that causes their kind to go insane and terrorize the human realm.  

Sukuna’s harem who are utterly obsessed with how small you are compared to them. They used to spend their days lying around on rich cushions and blankets waiting for Sukuna but even they got bored of him—if it were up to them, they’d lock him in their room and never let him out. His harem who was supposed to be teaching you more about their king but instead chose to spend their days lazily eating you out with their long-forked tongues and fucking you dumb with their big fingers. They make you suckle their breasts and grind on their faces. They’re so gentle after, hissing at each other when one speaks too loudly after you had fallen asleep, washing your body clean, wrapping you in the softest blankets to carry you back over to your room with Sukuna. Some days they happen to catch Sukuna in his room, and they smirk and giggle when they see his jealous face. They take it as the highest compliment their queen has decided to lie with them before the king.  

Incubus king!Sukuna who feels the mating bond grow stronger with every second you're in his castle. He feels himself shifting. He unable to stay away for long periods of time. He forces you to bathe with him before making you sit on his throne with him while he talks to irrelevant people, his hard cock jumping every time you move. You want to get away, moaning and grumbling how his you want to go play with his harem, it’s uncomfortable sitting on muscular thighs for hours while listening to him talk in several languages you don’t understand to people you don’t know. Sukuna who hisses and grumbles at you before going back to his subjects who kneel at the bottom of his obsidian throne.  

 Throughout the week you can’t help but get hornier and hornier until your unable to walk without liquids dripping down your thighs and wetting your skirts. Despite Sukuna's harem playing with you can’t help but plead and cry for him. You barely know the man but your body aches for him, for his cock, his bond. Sukuna who finally comes to see you one day. Who picks you up to set you up top of the cushions so you can watch him fuck his harem. He does everything he could think to the women, he wants to see what makes you twitch and ache and cry. By the time he’s done—hours later—you’re in a puddle of slick panting and crying how you want him. He doesn’t take you though, he can smell that you aren’t ready for him just yet, and he can’t risk injuring his mate who he’s searched for centuries. He won’t allow himself to bring you any harm, so he just holds you in his lap and makes his harem play with you until you pass out. 

Sukuna whose balls deep in one of his women when he sniffs that air and smells the scent change in you. The women he’s fucking laughs when he yanks himself out of her and goes to you. He picks you up from the drenched cushion you're sitting on. You wrap your arms around his neck and sob and the feeling of his body. You try to wrap your legs around his huge frame but you’re too tired, so they just hang as he walks you back to your room, your thighs rubbing against his cock. Sukuna lays you down on the huge bed before ripping your silky dress and ding his head in between your legs. He brings you to several orgasm, but his mouth and forked tongue isn't what you want. You want his cock. You want him to fuck you pregnant while he bites you and claims you as his. You scream and kick and pull and at the pair of horns on top his head, but he just shushes you before going back to eating you out.  

Sukuna finally deems you ready to take his cock but before he kisses and drags his teeth all over your body. He suckles at your breast, commenting on how you’ll be feeding him with said breasts soon. You cry out when he finally turns you ass up. You don’t even think about how much bigger he is than you, how his cock might not fit inside. Sukuna pushes your head into the blankets, grabbing the base of his cock and rubbing it over your pussy. You scream at him, but he ignores you enjoying the sight of your pussy against his too big cock. When he finally pushes into you scream into the pillow. You scream for more, for him to slow down, for him to breed you, for him to fuck you harder, for him to stop and let you catch a break. He’s too out of it to listen. He never knew what it would feel like to claim a mate but this? If he had any doubt the little human underneath his wasn’t his, he didn’t now. He finally felt whole. He felt your essence flowing into him, making him stronger, more aware, if he concentrated hard enough, he could feel your emotions and hear your thoughts. He fucked your impossibly harder. 

Sukuna leans down and whispers for you to open, and let him in. You don’t understand what he's talking about until his cock shoots some warm liquids and you feel your cervix open. It hurts so good when he pushes deeper into you. You orgasm again before he releases his seed into you. The tension leaves your body at the feeling of his seed rushing to your womb. You’re about to succumb to the sleepiness before Sukuna jolts you awake saying this is just the beginning.  

[inkskinned]

it's been said before and i'm sure said better than i can phrase it. but really, really - if you like making "i'm going to kill myself" jokes, please try switching to being ironically conceited instead.

anytime something goes wrong, say things like "ah well at least i'm beautiful and charming and everyone loves me." when you forget something, try "my big huge brain is so smart and thinking about too many other very big wizardly thoughts you wouldn't even understand." when you're frustrated by one of your symptoms, start talking like you're in My Immortal. "Life has come for me but my eyes are beautiful pools of gorgeous fire and my hair is amazing. I stuck my middle finger up at life and told it to fuck off and it did."

just... try it for a month or two. try saying the most absurdly self-congratulatory shit you can think of.

i know it's tempting to make suicide or self-harm jokes. and for me at least, a decade ago (!) when someone suggested i stop making those kinds of jokes, i was kind of at a loss for what to replace them with. i wanted to make light of these moments, but genuinely (at the time) my first thought really was suicidal ideation. there was a part of me that even felt like ... i was kind of "making light" of that voice. that if i could say i want to die lol, it would help take the sting out of that genuine (albeit passive) desire. like i could turn my illness into a joke.

when i started complimenting myself instead, it felt awkward and stupid. it felt really, really ironic. what i was actually saying was nobody would ever think this stuff about me, that's what makes it so fucking funny.

but. the effect was immediate. first thing i noticed was the people around me. when i dropped a glass and said ah my skin is too beautiful and sleek the glass has swooned and broken for me, other people were suddenly overjoyed to jump in with the joke. rather than making an awkward moment, we'd both start cracking up. ah princess sleek hands, i've heard of you.

i was 19. i hadn't noticed i'd been making others tense when i said i want it all to end. i know now that it's incredibly hard to know how to walk that moment - do you talk to them about your concern? do you potentially make them uncomfortable by asking if they're okay? do you ignore the situation? do you help them pick up the glass, or do they need to do it by themselves? are they genuinely made suicidal over this small moment? and most importantly, how do you - without professional training or supplies - actually help?

most people want to help you pick up the glass in your life, they just have no fucking idea how to do it. they don't want to make anything worse. they don't want to make assumptions about you. they love you, they're scared for you - and being scared makes people kind of freeze up. it's not because they don't love you. it's because they do.

now when something bad happens, my first thought is how can i make a stupid joke about this. it isn't my brain saying you're a dumb fucking bitch. i spend more time laughing. i spend more time being gentle with myself. i spend more time feeling good.

and the thing is - what's kind of funny - is that you'd be surprised by how many people agree with you. the first time i said i'm too pretty to understand that, someone else said to be fair you're the prettiest person in this room. i promise - you really don't know how kindly your friends see you. but they love you for a reason. they sort of reverse-velveteen-rabbit you. your weird and ugly spots fade away and you just become... the love they want to give you.

go love yourself ironically. the worst thing that happens is that you end up tricking your reflection into actually loving you.

[eowynstwin]

clawing at the door

ghoap x reader. jealousy. bisexual soap. bisexual ghost. emotionally constipated ghost. manipulative soap. ghost likes em thick. lightly explicit. MDNI. ao3

When Ghost first sees you and Soap together, his jealousy is hard to parse. He doesn't quite understand what he's feeling.

On the one hand, Occam's Razor. Simple explanations usually prove the truest. Soap is his boy, has been since Las Almas, and you are an interloper in their hard-won dynamic. Ghost does not absorb others into his life lightly, even less so then he allows them to strongarm themselves beneath the mask. He doesn't particularly like people, isn't really fond of their tendency toward abject mortality.

Soap's strong arms are a rare exception. And Ghost has nearly died too many times not to admire a nice round ass when he sees one—the kind that glistens and quivers beneath the weak spray of a communal shower. Some part of him has always kind of supposed the sergeant had been showing off specifically for him, too, when he dropped trousers and moaned like a whore when the hot water started flowing.

The boy certainly dogs his steps like that's the case.

Then, you: showing up on base one day, Soap's hand spread wide and possessive on the small of your back. Jewel-bright eyes following your every move. Blush high and feverish on his boy's cheekbones every time you throw half a smile his way.

So it's envy. So it's a crush, unrequited.

Simple problem, simple solution. Getting over by getting under and all that. There are apps for every heartache, and plenty of hard-bodied gym rats out there tripping over themselves to bottom for a brute like him, who can actually throw them around.

Not two minutes after making his profile (military, six-five, top), likely candidates start filing themselves into his inbox. Some part of his ego is gratified, at least. The influx of taint pics certainly confirms for him that his vanity, in fact, is justified, even if the last thing he wants to see is some random stranger's asshole.

He messages a jacked brunette with brown eyes and dimples, who led instead with a comparatively tame "hey big guy," and lets him pick the bar where they'll meet up.

And it's...fine.

The guy is fine. Equally as attractive in person as on camera, with curly hair and short stubble. He's there before Ghost, and directs an easygoing smile at him when he drops onto a stool at the bar beside him.

He doesn't even question the mask, though his eyes linger on it, half-lidded, the kind of way that suggests he's figuring something out about himself that he hadn't considered before. Not the first time it's happened for Ghost.

The problem with fine is that Ghost can't work up even much of a chub talking to him. The guy has a nasally voice and a friendly attitude that makes Ghost's teeth go numb from the sweetness. When they sequester in the dingy pub bathroom, the guy goes to his knees like an angel, and Ghost's cock actually softens more, thoroughly bored already with the notion of this random guy’s mouth on it.

The problem is, Soap would bust Ghost's balls for this.

Sure, Ghost could get him on his knees. Soap is a good boy, he'll take an order if he's given one. But he's also a fucking brat, and the moment Ghost pulled his cock out Soap would immediately start complaining about it.

Too big, too ugly, not hard enough, and when was the last time Ghost washed that fucking thing? How romantic, LT, making him suck Ghost off in a pub bathroom, hasn't he ever heard of good old-fashioned wooing?

He'd complain, Ghost knows, because he'd want, more than anything, for Ghost to just cut through the bullshit and shove straight down his throat. He'd run his mouth because the only thing he wants Ghost to do is shut him the fuck up, for once, and make him actually work for the praise they both know he's so desperate for.

And Ghost would give it. If Soap earned it. The fight isn't about winning.

This guy isn't putting up a fight. He tries nicely, licks all over the limp-hanging head and pale glans, but Ghost ends up making some excuse—Dad has cancer, Mom died, the usual—and leaving him there still on his knees.

He deletes the apps. He can invest in a fleshlight, and find some porn star another with enough of a resemblance to be functional.

Less of a hassle for everyone involved.

Problem solved.

And then he encounters you again.

You're walking out of the supermarket one night, with two huge bags over your shoulders, digging through your purse out in front of you. He has to stop you with one hand on your shoulder to keep you from running into him.

The evening is warm; your shirt is a thin camisole with little elastic straps. His palm meets your bare skin, and finds it soft and dewy with a little sweat.

You look up, startled, blinking as if caught in a bright light.

"Oh," you say, "Ghost, hello!"

"Bird," he grunts, wondering why he's surprised that you recognize him.

He pulls his hand away, and still feels the imprint of your body heat in its grooves.

"Sorry, I should have been looking," you say, smiling. It's a friendly expression, open and innocent—a daisy's petals spread on a clear day. "Johnny's making beef wellington tonight when he's off duty, so I went and got everything."

Ghost frowns. What kind of boyfriend lets his girl do so much heavy lifting?

He helps you carry the bags to your car. He's jealous, not an asshole. You thank him with a breezy laugh when he closes the hatchback—

"I'm sure Johnny wouldn't mind if you stopped by for dinner," you say, folding your arms across your ribcage. It presses your tits together as you cup your elbows in your hands, pronouncing the line of your cleavage with an uncomfortable eloquence.

"Busy," Ghost says immediately, staring very hard into your eyes. "Thanks."

You shrug, unperturbed. "Anytime. Good night!"

He stands in the carpark for a full five minutes after you drive away. He thinks he can feel his own heartbeat throbbing through the palm he touched you with.

Well, then.

Bereft of any opportunity to get to know you—as if it would even be appropriate—Ghost stalks social media until he finds you through Soap's Instagram. Your account is private, so he sends a follow request, expectations very low that you'd allow someone with a blank sky for a profile picture and only one post on their feed to follow you, "sghostriley" notwithstanding.

But—you do. And suddenly he has a decade of material to peruse, beginning with your last year of secondary school and leading all the way up to present, the most recent photo one of you and Soap at the top of some mountain, grinning at the camera in your hiking gear.

You don't post very many pictures of yourself, he finds. Instead you document interesting food you eat or make, crafts you're working on, nice scenery you caption with variations of "saw this on my walk today :)". It's all very domestic, sweet in a way without being saccharine.

Soft, really. Totally separated from the hard edges of the world he and Soap routinely throw themselves along.

And yet, honest in a way that makes your version of the world feel more like the real one, and his and Soap’s the nightmare.

Ghost hasn't been with a girl—let alone been interested in one—in years. It isn't that the attraction had ever died, exactly. Rather, it simply became so complex, so twisted in on itself and trapped beneath years of grown-over scar tissue, that he'd made an unconscious decision never to confront it. He ignored Price’s stories about his wife’s antics at home, Gaz’s perennial heartbreak after strings of failed dates—

Soap’s lurid bragging about the women he’s taken home from various pubs.

(Were you one of those pub girls?)

So, here it is now, confronting him instead. Reminding him, in a pretty camisole, just how very much it exists.

In the carpark, there’d been a bead of sweat slipping down your neck as you’d waved him goodbye. He finds himself wondering how long it would’ve taken to slide all the way down to the slope of your breast, if he didn’t catch it with his tongue first.

He continues through your Instagram. The majority of your selfies show up, he guesses, after the beginning of your relationship with Soap.

Earlier pictures of you make your discomfort obvious. You don't like the way you look, and it shows in the tension on your face when confronted with a camera lens. But later on, you gain confidence. Your expressions are softer as you show off a new haircut or glasses.

And when the first picture of you with Soap shows up, it's like seeing someone glowing from the inside.

Your head is tucked into the juncture of his shoulder and neck. The smile on your face is soft, small and lovely in how little you're clearly thinking about it.

You're happy.

It floors him. A happy girl, settled into the embrace of a man who’s made her feel that way.

Piece of work, he is. Could ogle another man's ass without shame, but present him with that man’s girl and suddenly it upends his entire sense of self.

Some old cunt psychiatrist would have a field day analyzing him.

Ghost skips the apps and, following in Soap’s footsteps, heads back to the pubs.

It’s worse.

Not that he doesn’t have options sidling up to him, that is. It seems like all he has to do is sit at the bar and wait, and women circle their way into his orbit, not really talking to him but letting him know, simply by hovering, that they’d love for him to talk to them. Batting their lashes, laughing near him seemingly at nothing.

Up to him to make the first move then. It seems to him like the rules haven't changed over his long absence from the dating pool.

Therein lay the snag—Ghost doesn't know how to talk to women. Not that way, the way one says without saying it that he'd like to take her home and bend her over the back of his couch. Say that to a man at the right bar and that was his evening sorted, but Ghost has a feeling that won't play as well among people with cat-shaped brass knuckles on their keychains.

He's not much of a talker, period. Soap yaps enough to fill in his side of the conversation whenever they're in the field. And you...well, he doesn't know about you. Ghost has the uncomfortable feeling that he'd try for you, and fail miserably.

The bartender slides a drink in front of him, distracting him from his agonizing. When Ghost gives him a questioning look, he nods in the direction of a table behind him.

One of the barflies has made the first move.

She winks at him when he raises the glass at her. She’s pretty—her dark makeup makes her eyes look angular and mysterious, and her red dress is tight, thin, and low-cut. Her exposed chest shimmers, as if she dusted some sort of powder across her collarbones before making her way here.

Sparkly and colorful, like a lure on a line. Ready to hook something and pull it in.

(Your camisole had been threadbare and lined with cheap, fraying lace. A favorite of yours, probably, something you wore when you wanted to be comfortable, and didn’t care who thought what about it.)

Ghost notices other men are eyeing the woman, and a couple of them send nasty glares his way. That is, they do before promptly averting their gazes once they see what he looks like.

He can have this, then, if he wants it. He just has to reach out and take it.

He feels your warmth in the palm of his hand again. The breeze of your laugh brushes his cheek with a soft touch.

He sends the woman one of her own drink, drops forty quid on the bar, and leaves without looking back.

Another dinner invite comes his way, this time courtesy of Soap himself.

“She told me she met you at the store,” Soap says, one afternoon when they’re in the changing room. “Really nice of you to help her out, LT.”

“You weren’t there to do it,” Ghost grumbles. Soap has been prancing around shirtless for fifteen minutes, faffing about while Ghost waits for him to leave so he can adjust his erection.

“I didn’t tell her to get everything!” the sergeant protests. “She just went and did it herself.” Then Soap’s eyes go all dreamy and stupid. “She’s grand, isn’t she.”

Ghost grumbles again, something noncommittal.

“Anyway, dinner’s at seven, and I’ll send you the address,” says Soap, pulling a thin t-shirt over his head. Ghosts watches him yank the hem down over his pecs, covering the toned plane of his abs.

Soap winks at him. “See you there, Ghost.”

Ghost grunts.

Soap does, in fact, see him there.

He goes out of resignation. Or maybe with some notion that seeing Soap and you together again will finally vanquish whatever sits on his chest so heavily whenever he thinks of the two of you.

Soap’s the one to answer the door. “There he is, the braw wee bastard!”

“Soap.”

From the looks of it, it’s your flat. It’s nicely decorated without being too over-designed, something warm and comfortable and welcoming. When Ghost steps inside, he’s hit immediately with the smell of seared pancetta and garlic.

The sergeant leads him through the flat. Ghost has a bottle of wine under one arm, having remembered at the last minute he should probably bring something along. You’re in the kitchen, stirring a pot on the stove.

“Hi, Ghost!” you chirp when you look over your shoulder. “Ooh, good, that’s drinks settled. Hope you like bolognese. It’s all I know how to make.”

“S’fine,” Ghost says, which he would say even if bolognese made him violently ill.

“Ach, you can make more than that,” Soap says, retrieving three long-stemmed glasses from a cabinet. “Pour a nice glass of water.”

You snatch the dish towel hanging from the oven handle and give it a snap in the general direction of Soap’s ass. He laughs and dances out of the way.

“There’s a bottle opener in the island drawer, Ghost,” you say cheerfully. You're pretty tonight, in a loose t-shirt and soft-looking joggers. Casual, like you don't have a guest over at all.

Like it's just a night in with your boyfriend.

Ghost pops the cork as Soap sets the glasses down. After he pours, the sergeant delivers a glass to his girlfriend, and there’s a brief moment of quiet as everyone sips and the sauce on the stove bubbles.

It’s all so nice and normal as to make Ghost’s hackles raise just in anticipation, although he knows there’s no reason for it. Truthfully, he almost hadn’t come. The thought of you and Soap, and Soap and you, in the same room, together, a unit, had made his stomach clench up so tight that he though he might not be able to get any food down.

But some part of him needed to come, and see this. Test out Pavlov’s theory, to see if enough negative reinforcement could break him of this borderline manic fixation. If he could associate Soap and you with romantic nausea, and nothing more, maybe he could finally stop jerking off every night to no satisfaction.

Because he had, in fact, found a porn star who looked like Soap. More tattoos, and a buzz cut rather than a mohawk, but Ghost couldn’t be picky.

The real shock had been to find that this proxy often partnered with a girl who looked enough like you to be uncanny. Too skinny, definitely, but in the one video Ghost had watched of them together, he could have sworn, as the lookalike reamed her from behind—

That it was you looking at him over your shoulder.

Looking at Soap. Or, looking at Ghost, behind him.

At that moment in the playback Ghost had come so hard, cock blazing red and raw in his hand, that the notion had liquified a little. So he couldn’t be sure what the thought had originally meant.

He hadn’t been brave enough to watch another.

“This isn’t bad,” Soap says after tasting the wine. “Nothin’ on a good whisky, mind.”

“Don’t neg your lieutenant, Johnny,” you say. “This is good, Ghost, thank you.”

Hearing Johnny fall from your lips so casually threads something uncomfortable between Ghost’s intestines. Uncomfortable, because he likes it.

Had Soap told you to call him that? Or had you decided on it all on your own? Did Soap think of Ghost whenever you said his name? Did he think of you whenever Ghost did?

“Simon’s fine,” he replies.

It escapes him before he even thinks about it. The same way he’d taken his mask off in Las Almas and looked directly at Soap, wondering in some hidden part of himself if the sergeant was impressed.

“That’s a nice name,” you say, swirling the wine in your glass. You take another sip, closing your eyes to savor it, and then, tilting your head like a little bird in thought, you pour a stream of it from the glass into your pasta sauce.

“Suits him, aye?” Soap says, side-eyeing Ghost with amusement. “Right posh name he’s got for a big scary bugger. Hidden depths, him.”

“Yeah, unlike you,” you snark, stirring.

Soap slaps a big hand over his heart. “Ach, lass, you wound me always.”

“Someone has to keep you humble,” you say, grinning. There’s a charming twinkle in your eyes.

“You gonna let ‘er get away with that, sergeant?”

He surprises himself by saying it. But something in the way you and Soap bicker—absent of the usual sugary drivel, as if the two of you have skipped over the honeymoon phase and stuck the landing right into stable commitment—invites him in.

It's magnetic, almost. It seizes the spinning needle in his brain, draws it to a standstill. Evens out the landscape, so he knows where he can go.

“You’re absolutely right, LT,” says Soap, who smacks his lips, sets his wineglass aside, and bum-rushes you.

You shriek as he captures you in both arms, lifting you off the floor and whirling you around—both the spoon in one hand and the glass in the other fling drops of red and white absolutely everywhere. And then you’re giggling as Soap wedges his face between your neck and shoulder and shakes his head like a dog, probably biting down.

Soap growls; a big smile takes over your face, eyes squeezed shut as you laugh breathlessly. The sergeant’s broad, brown forearms have yours pinned up against your chest, pressing your breasts together.

“Not fair, Ghost!” you exclaim as Soap’s growling noises turn into obnoxiously loud kisses. “No pulling rank in my house!”

“Two against one, hen, you’re outnumbered,” Soap counters. “What should we do with this one, eh, LT?”

“See if I ever cook for you two again, is what!” you protest, still grinning with delight. You kick your legs to no effect.

Soap, also grinning, slots his face back into your neck. You giggle again, complaining that it tickles.

Some incomplete circuit finally connects.

Order given. Girlfriend “punished.”

Soap making you laugh because Ghost told him to.

Not one. Not the other. Both.

“Think we can let ‘er off the hook this time,” he says, feeling dazed.

The pictures on your Instagram, with you and Soap together. The both of you, smiling together, wrapped around each other, standing at the top of a mountain and grinning what the two of you get to share.

Soap's hand spread on your back.

“Aye, sir,” Soap says, setting you down. You’re still laughing a little as you go to check the sauce, and Soap finds a towel to clean up the mess he made. Ghost reels in the meanwhile.

There’s an imprint of Soap’s teeth on your neck.

They wouldn’t be there if Ghost hadn’t sicced Soap on you.

He’s still reeling as you begin plating dinner, and Soap sets out the silverware. When everyone sits down to eat, the sergeant tops up everyone’s drinks.

“I hope you like it,” you say to Ghost, setting his plate in front of him. There's a shyness to you, a verity to your concern for his opinion.

“Oh, he will,” Soap says, grinning.

He trails the tips of his fingers along the back of your arm as he directs that jewel-blue gaze at Ghost. It's sharper than Ghost has ever noticed before—

“The LT has good taste. Don’t you, Ghost?”

And with his other hand, he raises his glass to the knowing smirk on his lips.

a/n: I can't use arse, I know it would be more accurate but I just can't I'm sorry

[hairmetal666]

Steve goes to a gay club for the first time alone. He and Robin, they'd talked about it since moving to Chicago, but every time they made plans he got cold feet.

But on a random, rainy Saturday with Robin back home in Hawkins, he decides fuck it, puts on his sluttiest jeans and polo, and goes to the damn club. He's sick of being nervous--he's going to make out with a guy for the first time tonight.

The club is crowded, loud, sweaty, the energy a pulsing wave. He's overwhelmed immediately, but it's invigorating. He pushes towards the bar, orders a beer, then cozies himself against the nearest wall.

He sips his drink and watches beautiful men dance and kiss and play, and he wants to be part of it, get out there, find his own person to get close to but--

What if none of this is for him? He feels out of place in his clothes, with his hairstyle, an old version of himself that doesn't belong in this world.

There's a swell of sound at the bar, and he glances over, expecting drunks or fighting. Instead, he sees a guy who makes his plans to leave slip straight from his mind.

He's unlike any other person there, even within his group. Long, curly hair, visible tattoos, ripped black jeans, a faded black t-shirt under a big leather jacket. He moves with purpose and grace, obviously uncaring about fitting in.

Steve can't stop watching him, transfixed. He buys another beer, settles back against his wall. He knows it's weird, but can't bring himself to care. Not when it's helping him feel more comfortable in his own skin.

The guy, he's vibrant, the brightest spot, his laughter reaching Steve even over the pounding music.

He's beautiful.

The lights flash, illuminating his face and recognition hits Steve like a fist. It's Eddie Munson, former freak of Hawkins High.

Steve's spine straightens, chest tightening. He can't believe--I mean there were rumors about Eddie in school, but he's here, right now, in Chicago, and Steve--Steve--

He abandons the remains of his beer, rushing out the door.

---

Steve goes back the next night.

He doesn't mean to; didn't have any plans to do it, but the clock turns to 9 and he pulls on the same slutty jeans, this time with an old blue t-shirt a size too small.

It's not because Eddie could be there again, he reassures himself as he shows the bouncer his ID. It's not like he wants to see him or has been thinking about him nonstop. No, it's because tonight's the night he finally makes a move. He needed a test run to find his footing, but now--

Eddie's at the bar. His hair is pulled up, loose tendrils around his face. No jacket this time; the rolled up sleeves of his black t-shirt showing off his wiry muscles, the swirling ink of his tattoos. Something low and hot clenches in Steve's stomach.

There's no way he's going to be preoccupied with Munson tonight. He came here to flirt and dance and maybe get lucky, and he'll ignore Eddie. He will.

Steve orders a beer, sits at the bar this time, his eyes lingering on black ink and pale skin. No matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to tear his eyes away from the ease and assurance Eddie moves with. He's so unafraid to take up space, it's intoxicating.

He loses track of Munson when he orders a second drink, his face no longer immediately visible in the crowd. Disappointment sinks his stomach until a voice to his left says, "You better be planning to buy me a drink, pretty boy."

The voice is low, oddly melodic, and he turns to find Eddie Munson's sparkling brown eyes gazing down at him. He's surprised, hides it, says, "Sure. What are you having?"

Eddie's mouth opens, but his eyes narrow. "Wait--Steve Harrington??"

"Um." His mouth goes dry. "Munson. Hi?"

"I--uh--wouldn't think this was your scene." Eddie shifts back, puts distance between them, and Steve hates it. Hates that Munson thinks the space is necessary, hates that he used to a person that made people feel that way.

"Yeah, well. A lot has changed since high school."

"Is that right? Surely not this much."

"Wouldn't you like to know."

Eddie's eyebrow lifts, but his mouth is a tight line. "Have a cigarette with me."

Steve nods and follows him out a side door into a narrow alley. Eddie pulls out two cigarettes, hands one to Steve. There's something about the cold politeness that sends a fizzle of disappointment down his spine.

"What brings you here?" Eddie asks.

"To Chicago or to this club?"

"Don't be cute."

"Can't help it." He smirks and Eddie rolls his eyes. "I moved to Chicago three months ago with my best friend, Robin. I'm at this club trying to explore my bisexuality."

Eddie's in the middle of taking a drag, splutters on the smoke. "Holy Shit."

He shrugs, knows he's blushing. "What can I say? I've spent the last few years learning about myself."

"And one of the things was that you like dick?"

"Looks like it."

'Well, goddamn, Steve Harrington."

"Impressed?"

Eddie licks his lips, steps closer. "Maybe I am."

"I aim to please." Steve lets himself grin.

"I bet you do," Eddie's voice goes even lower, and heat dances deep in Steve's stomach. "Wanna dance?"

"Thought you'd never ask." Steve blinks up at Eddie from under his eyelashes.

They go inside and join the bodies packed on the dance floor. At first, they keep their distance, dancing and laughing with an arm's length between them, but it's not long before they're drawn together, arms twining, legs pressed together. Their eyes lock, Steve can't look away, wouldn't even if he wanted to. Eddie's hands go to his waist, pull him closer.

"You're gorgeous, Harrington," he says it with his lips pressed to Steve's ear, goosebumps spreading across his skin.

"Yeah?"

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course."

Eddie's mouth presses closer. "I used to have the biggest crush on you in high school."

"Fuck, Eddie," he says. "That's so--"

"Weird?"

"Fucking hot, dude."

"Can I tell you another secret?" Eddie's voice is all rumble.

"Course,"

"I can't stop thinking about kissing you."

"You could do something about it."

Eddie smiles, eyes going darker, almost predatory. He leans in, their breath mingling, Steve's hitching.

"You sure you want me to?" Eddie asks, mouth barely brushing Steve's.

"Please," and it comes out like he's been punched.

He thinks the kiss will be hard, hot, but Eddie's hand is gentle as it cups the back of his head, slowly pulls him in. It's a soft meeting of mouths, almost tender. His head is swimming, blood thrumming low and hot and sweet. He parts his lips and then all he can feel, taste, sense is Eddie.

It cracks something inside him, and his fingers dig into the fabric of Eddie's shirt, eagerly licking into his mouth. It must crack something in Eddie too, because he's hauling Steve impossibly closer until his legs have to wrap around Eddie's waist, or they're falling.

They break apart with a breathless laugh, both red cheeked and bright eyed. They don't move apart, instead they dance and make out until the music stops and the lights come up.

Eddie twines their fingers together as they walk to the exit, Steve sweaty and elated and a little head over heels.

Out on the sidewalk, basking in the cool air, Eddie stops him. "Can I--uh, take you for a drink? Or back to my place? I don't--not to assume, but I--"

"Both. Anywhere," Steve laughs. "I don't want this night to end."

Eddie's smile is brilliant, heart stopping. "Your wish is my command."

[pacofprunes]

let me help ya’ relax.

thanos / player 230 x reader (squid game)

warnings — noncon, public (voyeurism), tears, kissing, use of the word bitch, use of the word rape, pussy kissing, choking, slight / barely but manhandling,

by clicking read more you consent to reading this content and you are 18+

“hey beautiful.”

“the hell?”

standing right in front of you, or rather over you, player 230. it was night and everyone was asleep or sitting in a corner somewhere. you didn’t know this guy beside seeing him the first two games and seeing him act like a fucking lunatic. you sit up and gather yourself.

“what do you want?”

“oh you know, just wanted to talk to a pretty girl.”

he does a cheeky smile. you stare. what do you even say to that. thank you i guess…?

“uh—”

“no need to thank me, it’s what i do. just such a great fucking guy right?”

he picks at the cross on his neck before pulling a pill out and holds it out to you.

“you use?”

“what?”

“drugs. do you do drugs? or have you done them before?”

how the fuck did he manage to bring his shit in here for one, and for two; why the hell is he more worried about doing drugs rather than living. that’d be the last thing you’d be thinking about.

“no. i dont do them and i dont have any interest in that.”

he does a fake pouty face.

“come on babe, loosen up ya’know? don’t wanna stress your pretty little face out.”

he pops the pill in his own mouth. where was this guy going with this? he clearly wants to stay here, hence the big blue ‘O’ on his jacket. so if he’s bored he should go talk to the people on his side. how the hell could you relax watching people you’ve gotten close to or even have just spoke to once die? meanwhile this dudes been jumping around having the time of his life while he’s been here. if this game ended tomorrow, he’d join it again a million times over. or maybe he wouldn’t but the drugs in his system sure as hell would.

“yeah, no… i appreciate your kindness but i don’t even know you and i think i’m just gonna lay back down.”

he grabs your hand and starts shaking it aggressively.

“my names thanos, it’s great to meet you! now you know who i am.”

he smiles again. you just stare. that’s not how it works at all. you could tell he was waiting for you to introduce yourself but you just brush it off and tell him again you’re going to lay back down. before you get to turn over and lay though, he grabs your face with both of his hands and presses your lips together into a deep kiss. he holds you there for a good while, and it felt like you were suffocating.

“what the fucks wrong with you?”

“baby, you could be my new drug! change that ‘X’ into an ‘O’, we’d be absolutely unstoppable!”

“this is real life you idiot, not some fucking video game!”

you slap his hand away from you and try telling him to get lost, but he just grabs your wrist and pushes you back onto your bed. you yell at him to get the fuck off of you but he just presses a finger up to your mouth hushing you.

“sex is a great way to relieve stress. just let me make you feel good. don’t be too loud though, unless you want the others to see us. but by all means, do it. it’s only making me harder.”

he laughed and winked at you. you suck the air through your teeth and he still holds onto your left wrist with one of his hands while letting the other one push at his chest. you’re more cautious with your voice level now and in a whisper you try again to get him to go.

“i don’t want to have sex with you, can you just go? go jack off in the corner or mess with literally any other girl here!”

he ignores you for the time being and goes to push your pants down, but with your free hand you grab his hand to stop him.

“gee babe, how sweet of you to wanna hold my hand! but uh, i kinda need it to get to the fun part.”

he ignores your hand continuing to grab at his, not proving to be much of use at all besides annoying him. he pushes your pants down, and then your panties to your ankles; acting as sort of some form of restraint. it would prove to be somewhat more difficult to kick at him now as your footing would get caught in the pant legs. he sits up off of your chest finally and starts to pull his pants and boxers off. you wanted to scream at him so badly to get off of you, to scream for some help, but you knew nobody would and all they’d do was watch. it wasn’t anybody’s problem and they weren’t going to make it theirs.

he cups your sex and starts rubbing circles at your tiny little hole to get you all soaked and ready for him. he leans down and he kisses it. he was literally about to start making out with your fucking pussy.

you squeezed your eyes shut and a couple tears come sliding down. god, first you’re in this game that seems normal, then people around you start getting shot, nobody wants to go home, and now you’re getting rapped by some crazy ass drug addict that calls himself fucking thanos. thanos! you’re pulled out of your thoughts when you feel his thumb on your face and him wiping your tears. you slightly open your eyes and he kisses you again. this time with your free hand you push as hard as you can at his face. he moves back and he makes an ‘ow’ face and rubs his forehead. he grabs your used to be free wrist and just pushes it to your side and holds it there.

“it’s always the prettiest bitches that play fucking hard to get.”

he lines up his cock with your somewhat wet hole. he maybe would’ve spent a little more time prepping you but you just ticked him off and he wasn’t going to help you anymore than he already has.

“it’s alright, i’ll have screaming my name and this whole place will know it by the time we’re done baby!”

oh god you were gonna be sick. you feel the sudden intrusion and you immediately tense. biting your lip back from screaming and shaking your head, tears flying left and right. you try to bend and claw your fingers at his hands that are holding yours down but it proves to be futile. you yell at him, while still keeping your voice down to stop and that he’s gotten enough and that he should go.

“agh—please—”

“please? you—fuck’—you want me to please keep going? well you don’t have to tell me that, i was already going to!”

he keeps a fast pace going, and the bed might as well of slid off of the shitty bars it was being held up on. everybody sleeping above you could definitely feel the whole thing moving. you try to fish your legs out of your pants legs to at least have some sort of way of pushing him away but it proves to be slightly harder than you thought.

“fuck babe—you feel so—fuck- so fucking good.”

he sucks the air through his teeth breathing heavy, while you’re doing the opposite and holding your breath.

“god you’re so tight, and you’re so — m’- so hot. i wish i could feel every inch of your — agh - you’re body but you’re too much of a fucking bitch, so i gotta keep ya’ still.”

he stops at an in thrust and moves his face down to yours, causing his cock to go deeper in you and causing you to bite back a moan and squeeze your eyes shut. he press his forehead to yours, your sweat causing them to almost stick together. he whispers to you while keeping perfect eye contact.

“but your my fucking bitch right? you’ll be my dumbed out little whore, baby. should get a tattoo on ya’ that says thanos’s bitch.”

he laughs moves down to your neck, starting to kiss all over it. leaving sweet marks all over as he starts thrusting into you again. you just feel his heavy hot breath against your neck and you just stare up at the bars above you and hold in the choked up sob threatening to come out. you feel his cock tense in you, threatening to shoot his load out and your eyes widen. he starts thrusting harder. he lets go of both your wrists and before you can even breathe out, relieved from the slightest bit of less pressure, he wraps both his hands around your throat and looks you in the eyes the whole entire time.

“come on bab — fuckk’- babe. look at me pleas- come on, watch how good you — you make me feel.”

you start to scratch at his his hands and his arms. he’d most definitely be marked up all over by the morning. finding it increasingly more difficult to breathe. you finally decide to look him in the eyes, sending him a pleading look to stop and to quit choking you, your face slowly starting to turn a shade of blue. upon your eyes looking at him, seeing those teary orbs and pleading face, it sends him over the edge. he sends a curse your way before he surprisingly pulls out his load going all over the bed. he lets go of your neck and pulls up his boxers, falling on top of you. his weight making it hard for you to completely catch your breath. you start to choke and hiccup on your own tears before he looks up at you and strokes his hand across your face, catching a few tears in his hand.

“i told you it wouldn’t be bad at all. don’t you feel a little more at ease now? are you prepared for the games tomorrow?”

not at all. was he fucking delusional? he lays his head back on your chest, looking up at you like a child, and rubs his hands up your sides.

“tomorrow when we vote, you better change to an ‘O’. wouldn’t want my pretty girl to betray me after all.”

he does a fake pout at the end of that. you go to sit up to pull your pants back up but he stops you.

“uhm, allow me. wouldn’t want you to do any hard labor! i’ll take care of it all for ya.’”

he pulls your panties and your pants up and sits up off of you, getting his own pants situated. he grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the top of it, looking at you in your eyes with a smile, your eyes still watering. and you send a glare his way.

“ouch babe! you hurt me here.”

he smacks his chest a couple times where his heart was.

“i’d stay here and sleep with you, but my friends will want a piece of you too if they find out that’s what i did tonight.”

you shudder at the thought of that.

“but dont worry. i’ll see you tomorrow. i’ll see ya at breakfast, yeah?”

he pulls you in for one long kiss and you push him away and he almost falls into the next bed over. he grabs at his heart again dramatically.

“ugh, i don’t wanna leave you. we’ll talk tomorrow though, kay? maybe have some more fun too.”

he winks at you again before turning over his shoulder and literally skipping away, running with his arms in the air and his hands in fists. you just hug your knees, crying into them, and now more than ever you wanted to go home. god this was so fucked. you just wanted to go to the bathroom and wash all over yourself but you knew they wouldn’t let you in. you just keep a tight grip around your knees, trying to find some sort of solace while you’re stuck here.

[slasherhaven]

Slashers with a significant other who is a cam girl and wants them to be in one of their videos? 💃

2 posts in 2 days who do I think I am? See ya'll in a year! /j

CW: NSFW

You do Cam Work and Ask the Slashers to be in your Videos:

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas is pretty conservative when it come to sex and such, but he's come around to your cam work, especially since you let him help with the details.

You like when he picks what you were or what scene you might do. You made Thomas feel like a part of it and that made him comfortable with it.

Still, he's very surprised when you ask if he wants to do a video with you. He refuses immediately and you respect that.

You ask again a while later but with more details. Like nobody would know who he was, you would keep his face out of the shot, and the two of you will do whatever he is comfortable with.

Your first video with him is of you riding him. His head isn't in the shot but the rest of his frame is. The size difference goes hard and your audience agrees.

Thomas is a flustered mess when you sit to read with comments with him. Everyone is talking about the new man in your video, gushing about how big he is and how attentive he is. Even with his size it seems your audience could sense his gentle soul, commenting on the chemistry you both have and how they would love to see him again!

Thanks to all the lovely comments, Thomas agrees to do another video even if he doesn't see himself putting his face on camera any time soon.

Michael Myers

Michael honestly does not care that you do cam work.

When you first ask him to be in a video, he pretty much ignores it.

But when you ask again some time later he doesn't see why not.

As long as his face isn't in the video or anything, you can film it, he doesn't really care.

The videos you make with him afterwards are pretty similar to your first video with him.

Usually you bent over while Michael fucks you to tears.

Michael is barely in the shot most of the time. Sometimes it just a close up on you, other times it includes Michael but only ever getting at high as his chest.

Everyone is obsessed with your mystery man. Where did he come from? What was that scar from? Can we see more of him please!!!

Jason Voorhees

We all know that Jason's comfort levels with sex is extremely low and it takes a while for him to become comfortable with physical intimacy. So cam work is certainly going to take some time for him to come around to.

And once he's become more comfortable with that, it's going to take a whole lot longer before he feels comfortable being in a video.

When he does decide to give it a go, he is a real hit!

He refuses to show his face on camera and you do whatever it takes to make sure he is as comfortable as possible.

Before Jason says you can use his name in videos and descriptions, your audience referred to him as 'the gentle giant', which is completely accurate!

No matter your usual content, Jason is nothing but gentle with you when he's in a video.

Brahms Heelshire

Watches your videos over and over again, he loves them. He'll watch you record them and watch them later once you've posted them. He can't get enough.

He's already got his pants off when you ask if he wants to be in one of your videos. You end up fucking even though you're not filming it.

He actually doesn't have much of a problem with having his face on camera. He's still a little insecure about his facial burns but you have alleviated most of that by this point.

And after the first video and he reads all those positive comments. Some are as horny for him as they are for you.

Fully embraces his new pornstar identity. He's insufferable.

He'll be in any video you want and your audience love watching you take care of your needy brat.

Bo Sinclair

Bo is in fully support of your work, it brings some money in and he gets to watch your videos. Even if his possessiveness still often gets the better of him. Whenever he reads comments of people praising you, Bo has an insatiable need to bend you over something just to prove a point.

Gets all cocky and arrogant when you ask if he wants to be in a video.

Needless to say, he agrees to do it.

And he takes to it pretty easily. He knows how to get all of his favourite reactions from you, how to get you pleading and begging for him, and he wants everyone watching to know.

Bo is arrogant and always smirking when the camera is on but it performs well.

He likes to how the camera and film himself entering you. He really does have a terrible ego.

Vincent Sinclair

It gets Vincent flustered, he could admit that, but he appreciates the artistic side of it all. It takes more effort and consideration than one might think!

He likes helping you get ready for a video and taking care of you afterwards.

He's hesitant when you first ask if he wants to be in a video. A part of him wants to do it with you but he's not confident enough in himself.

But he loves making you feel good and at this point he knows he's good at it, so he gives it a try. You can film them without posting them after all, like practise runs.

He may never show his face but he doesn't mind having his body on camera. Sometimes he even just hides his face with his hair instead of keeping his head out of the shot completely.

On Vincent's more self-conscious days, he'll film close ups of him fingering you instead.

He's very good with his hands and your audience agrees. They are very jealous of you.

Lester Sinclair

Lester is pretty neutral on your work, but of course he absolutely loves your videos.

He's mostly just surprised and flustered when you first ask if he wants to be in one of your videos. He thinks you're perfect so he understands why people would want to watch you, but he doesn't really see why people would want to watch him.

But he still agrees to it because he's your biggest supporter!!!

Your audience love the chemistry and intimacy between you both, leaving comments about how real your videos feel.

The videos that perform best are usually the ones where the two of you forgot you were even filming, just giggling together and enjoying each other. Lester gets all nervous and shy when the camera turns on, which is adorable, but forgetting that the camera is there really does help him perform better, the sweetheart.

Your audience love your more thought out and planned videos but appreciate the occasional more relaxed video with your sweet boyfriend.

Bubba Sawyer

Super flustered by your work but he's supportive.

Is super surprised and nervous when you ask if he wants to be in a video.

He agrees to give it a try once you explain that you can always delete it and nobody has to see it if he changes his mind or doesn't like it.

Bubba is just a big sweetie really, and you know just how to turn him into a squirming, blubbering mess.

And your audience love to watch you do it!

In later video's you do, you use the viewers' comments to fluster him even further. Using all the kindest and sweetest comments that say how lovely he is .

Come on, Bubs, they love you, they're being so nice. Why don't you say thank you?

Billy Lenz

Billy loves watching your videos and when you ask if he wants to be in a video with you, he is so excited!

He's completely down to make some home videos but he's a little unsure about putting it online for other people to see.

So you make it so his face isn't visible and let him watch the final edit before uploading it. He thinks it's so hot, he can't say no.

Honestly, you could do really well with just audios alone though. People will go wild for it. Billy unable to keep his mouth shut, all those desperate moans and whines and noises, the sticky wet slapping of skin. Honestly, a video element is just a bonus at this point.

And who gets off to the video the most? Billy obviously!

Asa Emory (The Collector)

Asa monitors your accounts anyway, even if you don't know it. He wants to know what you're posting and how people are responding. Don't want any bullies or trolls, right?

He's probably tried to manipulate you into suggesting it anyway.

He doesn't have much of a problem with your cam work, he's just a possessive bastard and would love to claim you in front of your entire audience.

The mask stays on!

Okay, he designs a new mask to avoid any chance of self criminalisation but whatever.

You two can make it big in BDSM communities.

Ties you up, blindfolds you, gags you. Whatever he feels like, but often seems to focus the camera on your reactions rather than on what he is doing to you. Studying his favourite little specimen.

Your audience already adored you of course, but they also love this new Dom you brought it.

There is no doubt as to who you belong to now.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

Obviously Jesse has no problem with being on camera and he already has a pretty big ego, so he'll probably even wear the Chromeskull mask. It's his signature whether it's for his snuff films or your cam work.

Like Asa, you do absolute numbers in the BDSM community. Everyone is very pleased with his fully suited up, masked Dom that you brought in.

He already has his Chromeskull persona all fleshed out so he just brings that energy to your videos.

He's a sadistic Dom and you might have to upload an Aftercare video at some point just to reassure your more loyal audience that you're alright and always well taken care of afterwards.

Otis Driftwood

Is obviously a fan of your videos and isn't going to stop you from making them. You aren't actually fucking anyone else, so he's cool with it. And if he feels particularly jealous or possessive at some point, he knows he's the only one who can actually pin you down and have his way with you.

Oh yeah, he's down to make a few videos with you. He's probably got some old tapes of his own somewhere, long forgotten. He's not shy.

Says the filthiest shit, it kinda becomes his think on your platform.

Otis can be absolutely disgusting but, fortunately, there is an audience for that and they flood to your videos.

Calls you all sorts of names, asks you if you get off on knowing everyone is going to watch him fuck you. That everyone is going to see all the things you let him do to you.

Baby Firefly

Baby loves that you do cam work, she loves performing. She happily does your hair and makeup, she helps you pick out costumes and which toys you'll use in that video.

Hell, she's even filmed a video or two for you!

She's your number one supporter so of course she jumps on camera as soon as you ask if she wants to be in a video.

The two of you are all dolled up and she's magnetic, the audience love her as much as they love you.

The two of you are absolute menaces if you decide to do a livestream, pulling in huge donations because Baby is going to pout and taunt. Why should the two of you put on a show if they're not showing their appreciation properly?

Baby is the type to respond to very low donations with "it's alright, you can just say you're poor". She never promised to play nice and she just thinks you're worth more than that!!!

You end up apologising for her.

People are into it though.

Yautja (Predator)

Your mate doesn't quite get it but he's cool with it.

Is hard as soon as you ask if he wants to be in a video. Yautja's aren't very conservative or prudish when it comes to sex and nudity, so you weren't too surprised.

He loves the thought of taking you, of claiming you, and everyone knowing that you're his mate. That he's a worthy mate for you.

Even when he's a regular feature in your videos, he doesn't completely understand it, he just knows he's into it.

Everyone loves to watch you try to take him fully, the struggle, the determination, the satisfaction when you manage it.

You have cornered the Monster Fucker market. They don't know if it's real, if it's a very elaborate costume, or very realistic animation, either way they are eating it up.

All the other performers who use alien dildos and such are super jealous, obviously.

[joonie-beanie]

Hat Guy's ASMR Commissions: S Tier | [Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader]

Summary: Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session] In which your asshole best friends order a commission from your favorite ASMR artist, and it's a lot more NSFW than you were expecting. "From this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy. But fair warning–I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.” Content: Smut, Guided Masturbation, Toy Use, Name Calling, Degradation/Humiliation, fem!reader Word Count: 6.5k Note: this is kind of an untraditional smut, so just keep that in mind lol

“Sweetheart…you really need to find some way to relax.”

“I agree. If you don’t release your tension, it’ll do a number on your health.”

You really appreciate Lisa and Yae being so concerned for you, but…

“I know. It’s just…not that easy for me.”

By now, in theory, you should have figured out some better coping mechanisms and ways to destress, but alas.

Taking a book from the return bin, Lisa scans it, and then places it onto the go-back cart.

“Well, have you tried getting off?”

Her suggestion makes you jerk, your head swiveling as you glance around the library to see if anyone nearby has overheard. At your side, Yae giggles.

“Calm down…finals have just ended. No one is in the library anymore—they’re out partying.”

You sigh. 

You suppose she’s right. The only reason you three are here is because Lisa is working the closing shift, and because Yae had insisted that you come along to the library with her to keep Lisa company.

“Traditional porn, a good adult novel, ASMR—all would be good options,” Lisa continues.

“I’m not really into porn right now, and I don’t think I have the bandwidth to focus on a book,” you say, resting your cheek in your palm. “As for ASMR…I’m not a big fan. I’ve really only discovered one creator that I like…”

“Oh?” 

Now that piques their interest. 

“What’s their name?”

“He goes by “Hat Guy” on twitter,” you tell them. “He mostly just…posts audio responses to dumb takes, or makes ASMR mocking other ASMR trends, but his voice is nice, and he has a small fan base…despite him kind of being a little shit.”

“How cute,” Lisa laughs while Yae pulls out her phone.

“Well, then…since it sounds like he doesn’t have any relaxing content, maybe you should just go home and take a nice bath. Did you ever use that bath bomb I got you for your birthday?”

“No,” you mumble sheepishly. At your side, Yae taps your knee.

“Lisa is right. Go home and have a bath. I’ll keep her company until she’s done.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Are you sure…? I just got here like half an hour ago and now you want me to go home?”

“I just think some “you” time would be good,” she tells you with a smile. You pout your lips, but ultimately decide that…maybe she’s right.

“Fine, I’ll head home and rest, then.”

“Good girl,” Yae responds, patting your ass when you bend over to grab your backpack. You narrow your eyes at her, but aren’t truly mad.

“Be careful on your walk home~,” Lisa says as you start towards the exit. You wave at them both over your shoulder, and then leave the building.

A few seconds after your departure, Lisa turns to Yae.

“Alright, what did you find that you didn’t want Y/N to know about?”

Yae grins, loving that Lisa has already caught on.

“Look—”

She gets up from her seat and leans over to show Lisa her phone screen.

“I found Hat Guy’s twitter and saw that he’s accepting commissions, and look at one of the options~”

She points to something, and Lisa’s eyes hurriedly scan the text in front of her. 

When she has finished reading, she grins.

“Oh, my…well, that’s certainly tempting.”

“I was thinking maybe we can give it to Y/N as a… “you survived finals! Use this to relax” type present. Since she’s always doing thoughtful things for us when we’re swamped.”

Lisa smiles, putting a thoughtful finger to her lips.

“I agree. She’s brought us so many cups of tea over the last few months. It’s the least we can do.”

“Good,” Yae says with a nod, immediately clicking on the commission link.

“She deserves a little…fun.”

Between the end of the previous semester, and the start of the new one, your University has generously given you a long weekend. 

4 days, to be exact. 

Most of this long weekend you spend doing the chores you’ve put off, and working a few shifts at your job. 

It’s only by some grace that you end up with Sunday off. One final day to try and relax before classes begin tomorrow…

You do your best to make the most of it—mindlessly scrolling tiktok, folding some clothes, debating if you should order food out, and ultimately deciding against it, since you just went grocery shopping…

All in all, it’s a pretty mundane day.

…at least, until the icon for your email app appears at the top of your phone screen, and you swipe down the notification to see the title:

Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session]

Immediately, you freeze.

Surely, this is a spam email that’s somehow made it through the cracks. Because you definitely haven’t ordered such a thing.

Yet, despite your doubts at the validity of the email, you still click on it—wanting to read the contents before banishing it to your spam folder.

Dear Recipient,

Attached to this email is an mp3 file available for you to download. This file was requested and paid for by “Fox and Witch”, and is being sent to you directly at their request.

Please do not distribute this anywhere else on social media, as this is my copyrighted content.

If there is any issue with the quality of the file, please let me know.

Have fun.

-Hat Guy

Note:

Toys Needed = Dildo, Clitoral Vibrator or Wand

…you must have knocked your head on something earlier and are currently hallucinating.

Because there is NO WAY there’s an email from HAT GUY in your inbox. And that said email is for…for…

Well, you remember seeing a link on his profile about commissions, but you’d never clicked on it to see more than that. There’s no chance he’s out here telling people how to get off, though, right…?

With a warm face, you scan the email again. And then a third time.

You can only assume “Fox and Witch” are Yae and Lisa. And you did just tell them that you like Hat Guy’s content…

You bite your lip, staring at the mp3 file. 

There’s just no way…

Hesitantly, you click on it.

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

Oh…fuck. 

Something in your tummy flips.

That’s him, alright.

You’ve never heard him talk like that before, but it’s definitely him…you could never mistake that haughty, belittling tone.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your gaze once again finding the title of the email.

Guided Masturbation.

If you’re not wrong, that means if you hit play, and keep listening, it’ll probably be a lot of Hat Guy telling you what to do…how to touch yourself.

Just thinking about such a thing makes more blood rush to your head—embarrassment blooming in your chest.

Sure, the idea of him bossing you around isn’t exactly unappealing. You’re sure he’d be…less than nice, and maybe even a little sadistic, and perhaps call you a few rude names, but—

You groan and place your phone face down on the table beside you.

“Nope, I can’t—I—”

Standing up from your couch, you trudge into your kitchen.

It’s dinner time—you need to make dinner.

You try to keep your thoughts from straying to your temporarily abandoned phone, and the email that’s sitting in your inbox—but it’s literally impossible.

Still, you manage to cook yourself a meal, and even partake in a little alcoholic drink. (Just because you’re treating yourself, and definitely not because you want to ease your nerves a bit.)

Once you’ve finished eating, you clean all your dishes, and then return to the couch. Your gaze strays to your phone, but you don’t pick it up—instead deciding to grab the TV remote.

You make it approximately 25 minutes into a movie before you can’t take it anymore.

Hitting the pause button, you throw the remote on the couch beside you and then snatch up your phone—alighting from the couch.

You grab your headphones on the way to your bedroom, and pop them into your ears only after you’ve gathered your dildo and vibrator.

Maybe this audio won’t be as hot as you’re assuming, and you’ll end up not wanting to touch yourself, but…better to have everything prepared just in case, right?

Taking a deep breath, you hit play.

The track restarts from the beginning. 

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

“I also hear you’re quite the little masochist—but I could have assumed that, considering it’s me that you’re soaking your panties over. Just another slut who wants to be bullied, huh.”

You huff at his words, glaring at your phone screen. 

Did Lisa and Yae tell him your kinks or something?? Those bitches.

“Well, you’re in luck, because from this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy.”

Dammit, why is he right—

“But fair warning—I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.”

With a shaking finger, you pause the audio.

You hate to admit it, but his words—the way he’s speaking to you—is already making you wet. 

You really, truly want him to bully you, and use you like a little toy.

So, guess that means you’re doing this.

Throwing any caution and shame to the wind, you hit the play button again. 

“Now…where to begin? I always like to start with an inspection. Take off your clothes, but leave your panties on. I’m not going to bid your needy pussy any attention just yet.”

You obediently do as he says, stripping yourself of your clothing until you’re left only in your panties.

“It’s unfortunate I’m not there to survey those titties in person, so you’ll just have to feel them up for me. Go ahead and grope yourself. Take a minute and massage your chest…I want to see if you’ll get wet from that alone. Although, you’re probably wet already just from my voice, aren’t you, slut?”

You click your tongue at that last part, (hating that he’s right), but nonetheless bring your hands to your chest. 

You cup your titties, and begin squeezing them—feeling the soft flesh beneath your fingers. 

“Good, keep going—squeeze a little harder now. Ah…I bet your nipples want to be touched, huh? Start teasing them, then—just enough to get them hard. I’ll give you 10 seconds—that should be enough.”

For some reason, the challenge of accomplishing a task within a certain time limit makes your pussy throb, and very quickly, you move your pointer fingers over your nipples—rubbing them lightly, and coaxing them to a peak. 

You’re ashamed to admit it, but they manage to get hard in the 10 second pause he gives you…

“Wow, look at that…what greedy titties you have—responding as I say, eager to be played with. Pinch your nipples and roll them between your fingers. Find the motion that feels best, and do it over and over again, until I tell you to stop.”

Resting your breasts in your palms, you pinch your nipples between your fingers—rolling and tugging them. 

Your eyes flutter shut as you touch yourself, each purposeful little tweak of your nipples causing your spine to twitch, and your pussy to clench.

It’s been too long since you’ve touched yourself like this…

By the time Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once more, your nipples have started to get sore.

“Okay, stop there. I bet your cunt has started quivering, but I hope you know it’ll still be a while before I give you the chance to cum…unless, you somehow managed to orgasm from playing with just your titties? If that’s the case, congratulations! You’re the most needy and pathetic whore I’ve played with. So pathetic that I’ll give you a pass, and won’t even punish you for cumming without permission.”

The thought of being able to cum from nipple play alone makes you feel even more aroused, much to your chagrin—

“Now, let’s inspect that dirty pussy of yours. Spread your legs, and pull your panties down to your knees. I want you to stare at the crotch of your panties and feel ashamed at the wet spot I know is there.”

Taking a deep breath, you hook your fingers around your panties and tug them down your thighs.

As you spread your feet apart, you end up staring at the crotch of your panties—your lips pressing together when you notice there is, indeed, a very noticeable wet spot.

“Next, bend over. As low as you can go, with your legs still apart. I want to see everything.”

Locking your fingers together, you hesitate for a brief second before you bend over—feeling a strain in your leg muscles as you hit the point where you can’t bend anymore.

In this position, you know that you’re on full display.

“Look at you, presenting yourself to me…you really don’t have any shame, do you? If I were there, I’d be grabbing you and forcing you open wider, but since I’m not, you can do it for me! Grab your ass cheeks with both hands, and spread.”

Breathing a little shakily, you do your best to reach behind you and spread yourself. You feel your asshole clench as you do so, and the involuntary action maddens you, considering Hat Guy’s next words are—

“Such a tight little hole…I bet it’s twitching.” 

“Is it nervous, or hoping for an intrusion? Either way, anal is not the objective of today’s session, so let’s move back to your pussy. Go ahead and spread your folds with your hand. You have permission to bend over with your chest to your bed, if you feel your blood rushing to your head from bending down so low. And if you're not by your bed…where the fuck are you listening to this audio? In your car, or a bathroom stall? Pervert.”

That little quip at the end makes you smile, even as you stand up and move yourself to your bed.

You find it a little endearing how he’s bossing you around, but still managing to be somewhat considerate. You suppose maybe there is more to him than just being a brat on the internet.

Anyway—

Reaching one hand back between your legs, you slide your fingers between the folds of your pussy and spread them—opening yourself up as if he were there to inspect you.

“Now, rub your fingers at your entrance—feel how slick you’ve gotten…honestly, you should feel ashamed. Getting so wet for a no-face internet stranger.”

Sure, your panties were a little wet, but that doesn’t mean—

You move your fingers to your entrance—freezing at the amount of sticky arousal you feel. 

You...honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten this wet.

“Smear the slick around your pussy, and make sure to get your clit. That’s where we’re headed next.”

You do as he says, perhaps a smidge overly excited that you now seem to be entering the main course.

As your fingers ghost over your clit, your pussy shudders.

“Bet you just clenched in excitement, huh?”

How does he fucking know—?!

“I'll be nice and will let you use two fingers. Press the pads of your fingers to your clit, and start making circular motions. Slow. 1…2…3…just like that.”

Breathing deep, you begin rubbing your clit with your fingers—repeating his count in your head, and following his pace. 

With each pass of your fingers, your walls squeeze tighter.

“You probably want to rush, or grind your hips on your fingers…but you shouldn't be acting so desperate just yet, so be a good girl and keep going.”

Huffing, you obey his command,

He goes silent for a few beats, really giving you a minute to continue hopelessly teasing yourself. 

By the time he next speaks, a needy exhale is leaving your lips—heady arousal truly being to pool in your lower tummy.

“Now you can go faster. Rub your clit to the beat of your heart. I assume it's racing, so you should be moving your hand a bit faster than before.”

You haven’t really noticed before now, but your heart is certainly beating much faster than normal…

The steady, yet swift thump of your heart is felt throughout your body the more you focus on it, and you quickly adjust your pace. 

A breathy little sigh leaves your lips—your brows pinching together.

You want to cum. 

“I wonder if you're close already, just from your fingers on your clit…haha. If you are, remember—you don't get to cum until I say so. So if you're close to cumming, edge yourself. Get right to the edge of your orgasm, and then stop. I'll give you 10 seconds after that to collect yourself, but then you have to keep going.”

Oh, fuck…

You suppose you should have realized that edging might be part of the equation, especially during a 30 minute session.

And, unfortunately, the thought of edging yourself for him makes you even hornier—pushing you closer to your first climax—or, well, edge.

“I bet you're probably thinking that 10 seconds isn't very long…that when you start again, you'll still be right at the brink of your orgasm, and will have to keep edging over, and over…hah, well…that's your own fault for being so hopeless.”

“Now, I'll let you set the pace. Find the rhythm and motion against your clit that makes you feel the best…you're going to keep that up for 1 minute—and remember, no cumming.”

Dammit—

By now, your lips are fully parted—quick little breaths fanning in front of your face and warming the sheets of your mattress.

You don’t want to edge, you want to cum, but he won’t let you—

“Also, why don't you go ahead and count aloud? I assume you're in private, so it shouldn't be an issue to let out your voice. And if you're not, well…I guess people will get to hear what a debauched whore you are.”

If this were 10 minutes ago, you’d surely blush and hesitate to follow his command.

But now…now you’re a little closer to being the debauched whore he’s calling you.

“I'll count with you so you don't rush it. 60…59…58…57—”

With headphones in, you hear your own voice in your head—mingling with his. 

His, unwavering, with a hint of mockery. Yours…quiet, and struggling to stay on beat.

You clit throbs beneath your fingers, and there’s a familiar flutter of your walls, despite your pussy currently being empty. 

You’re getting close. 

“I can only imagine how sinful you look right now…oh, right. Where was I? Hmm…let's just pick up from 30.”

Motherfucker—

You let your face drop into your sheets, your thighs tightening and knees shaking.

Fuck, you wanna cum. You know you can’t—know it’s not allowed yet, but—!

“5…4…3…2…1. Stop moving your hand.”

Perfect timing. Right at the edge of an orgasm—you pull your hand away.

You take a second to try and catch your breath while ignoring the unfulfilled ache between your legs.

“Your pussy must be throbbing, huh? Lucky for you, as your benevolent master, I’ll let you stuff it full. Grab your dildo and get on your bed on your knees.”

“Also, I assume you're soaked by now, but if not, and you need additional lubrication, use lube.”

You glance behind you at your dresser, where your bottle of lube sits, but ultimately don’t grab it. 

By now, you’re sure you can do without.

Grabbing your dildo, you climb onto your bed, and obediently get on your knees.

“Now, sit up and position the dildo beneath you. Rub the head between your folds, and then settle it at your entrance.”

You do as he says—a shiver of excitement raking up your spine as the tip of your dildo unexpectedly flicks against your clit while you get it into position.

“I'm going to give you 3 seconds to take it fully inside of you…What? I did say we'll be stuffing you full, and with how needy you clearly are, I figured I'm doing you a favor by letting you take it all in!”

Oh. That’s—

“So, I'll count to three. Oh, and if your dildo is too big, and you're scared to sink down onto it all at once, well…that's your own fault for biting off more than you can chew. But, I'm sure that greedy pussy will take anything it can get.”

It will.

“Ready?”

You take a trembling breath.

“3, 2, 1—!”

In one swift motion, you spread your thighs and sink down onto the dildo.

When the head bumps against the deepest part of you, you can’t help but gasp—the sound positively lewd.

“Ahhh…fuck. You made a cute sound, didn't you? How precious…now you're stuffed to the brim with dick, as you should be.”

Yes, this is exactly how you’re meant to feel…just a little slut who will do anything to cum for him.

Yet, despite his harsh instructions, he seems to pause for a second, giving you a chance to acclimate to the intrusion.

How cute.

“Why don't we start slow…I want you to lift your hips until just the tip of the dildo is inside of you, and then grind back down on it. Up…and down…up—”

To aid in the motion, you place your hands flat on the mattress in front of you, and then begin moving your hips.

Up…and down…

Your walls clench around the dildo, practically begging for more, but the man currently using you as his personal toy clearly isn’t inclined to give you such a thing.

At least, not immediately.

If you had to guess, he makes you continue at this slow, teasing pace for at least 2 minutes—your muscles beginning to strain as you resist going any faster.

Then, his voice fills your ears once again. You nearly sigh with relief.

“I hope your thighs aren't burning yet, because now we're going to pick up the pace. Imagine the gallop of a horse's hooves. I want you to grind on each downbeat. No need to make big motions—just grind on your dildo how you'd grind your pussy on my cock if I was there.”

If he were here, you’d wanna grind on his dick until he’s moaning louder than you are—

“Fuck…”

Fingers curling into the sheets, you find your new rhythm—the sound of your wet pussy beginning to fill the quiet room outside your headphones.

Sweat starts to bead on your brow—the arousal inside of you searing hotter, and your muscles getting tighter.

“I wonder if you can cum from internal stimulation alone…try to find your g-spot if you haven't already. I want you to bully it with your dildo.”

You can practically hear the grin in his words. 

Repositioning yourself, you find the angle that better allows you to rub that sensitive little spot inside you.

Almost immediately, a whine rips from your throat.

“Now…I'm going to issue you a challenge. I'll count down from 60 seconds again. During that 60 seconds, you're free to cum. So try your best, okay, slut?”

Please, you want to cum, but you don’t know if 60 seconds will be enough—

“60…59…58…”

Dammit—

With his challenge invigorating you, you continue messily grinding your hips.

Each pass of your dildo against your g-spot causes your pussy to shiver, and your thighs to shake—your orgasm creeping closer.

“33…32…31…”

A desperate sound slips past your lips, your eyebrows knitting together.

You want to cum.

You want to cum.

You want to cum, but—

You drop down onto your dildo roughly, almost in a pouting manner.

You need more time.

As soon as your climax finally begins to build—your walls clenching down on your dildo—Hat Guy reaches the end of his countdown.

“3…2…1…so…did you cum? Either way, I'm sure your legs are shaking. I wouldn't doubt that your sheets are getting soiled by your arousal, either.”

“Well, whether you came or not, don't worry—there's still more opportunities to orgasm yet to come! That being said, set your dildo to the side, and grab your vibrator instead.”

Exhaling, you manage to lift up your hips, and your dildo slips out of you. 

It flops onto your sheets, glistening with your arousal.

Your pussy mourns the loss.

Setting your dildo to the side, you grab your vibrator instead.

“You can go ahead and lay on your back. I'll give your knees a break…isn't that nice of me? You should say “thank you”.”

You clench your jaw as you roll onto your back, your eyes squinting at the ceiling.

There’s no way he’s serious, right? Counting is one thing, but thanking someone who isn’t here?

“Huh? Did you think that was just a suggestion? Go on.”

You wet your lips with your tongue.

“...thank you.”

There’s a brief second of silence, and then—

“...pfft, hahaha! If you actually did just say it aloud, you're more of an obedient people pleaser than I thought. What a precious little cock-sleeve.”

You want to punch him—

“Anyway, I haven't let you cum from your clit yet. I bet by now it's engorged and begging for attention…go ahead and put your vibrator on your clit. Turn it on low.”

The fact that even just touching your clit causes you to jolt proves that his words are correct.

Hitting the power button, you turn your vibrator on a low setting, and almost instantly—the orgasm that had started to fade away flares back to life.

“Good…I'll let you keep it there for a little while. Actually…I'm gonna go get some water. God knows how upset you'd be if my voice suddenly gave out and I couldn't give you permission to cum—”

You hear the sound of a chair being alighted from, and footsteps padding away from the mic.

“This little motherfucker—,” you pant, your chest heaving. 

You gently rub your vibrator around your clit—hoping that doing so will help you delay the orgasm that’s building—but it’s impossible to avoid.

After another minute, you can’t put it off any longer.

Your body tenses, your pussy tightening, and—

You tear the vibrator away from your clit.

If he were here, you think you’d honestly start to beg him for mercy. Of course, you’re sure he’d say that’s practically your first true edge, and you’re just being a little baby, but still.

You start the countdown from 10 in your head, and once it’s done, put your vibrator back on your clit.

Your entire body jolts as the pleasure that had been denied snaps back to attention.

You’re gonna have to edge again—

“How are you holding out? Did you edge at all—just from the vibrator being on low? At the very least, I bet you're squirming and panting.”

“Now, listen closely. I'm going to make you an offer.”

If his offer involves you cumming, you’ll do whatever it takes.

“I'm going to let you cum with the vibrator still on low—assuming you can. This time I'll be generous and will give you 90 seconds, even. But here's the catch. At the end of this session, you will be cumming. So if your begging cunt blots out any logic in your brain, and you decide to cum now, and then feel it's “too much” later, well. That'll be your own fault. Even if you're overstimulated, you'll be cumming again, so choose wisely.”

“Either way, you need to keep the vibrator on your clit for another 90 seconds. You just need to decide if you're cumming or edging. Get ready. To spice it up, this time I'm not counting aloud—I'll just tell you when to stop. So if you're planning on cumming, try not to waste any time. Because if I say stop and you're right there, I doubt you’ll be very happy. Now, begin.”

Risking an overstimulated orgasm after this is a dangerous game, but—

You press the vibrator harder against your clit. 

You need to cum—you don’t care about anything else right now.

Your free hand grabs at your breast—your toes curling, and your heart racing.

Your back arches off the bed, a symphony of miniscule whines and gasps falling from your lips.

Then, the tension inside of you reaches its limit, and snaps.

Your voice catches in your throat—your body spasming as waves of pleasure rock you.

You keep the vibrator on your clit to draw them out as long as you can, but after a few long beats, Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once again. 

“Stop—that's time. So…did you cum? I wish I could see the state of you…I bet you're starting to look all fucked out. We're already at the 20 minute mark, after all.”

You can’t believe it’s already been 20 minutes. Yet, at the same time, can’t believe you’re not already closer to the end.

“Now, I did say you'd be cumming again, so why don't you go ahead and put your vibe on high? Let's try and force it out of you.”

It’s fine…it’s totally fine. 

Turning your vibrator on high will be totally fine.

You move the toy back to your clit and push the button until the vibrations are much more intense than before.

Almost immediately, heat rushes through your body—stemming from the still recovering nerve ending on your clit.

You’re over-sensitive. Fuck.

And yet…your pussy still flutters—your muscles tensing once again as another orgasm begins to build.

“Ahh, I bet you're squirming like a pathetic little worm. Is it too much? Do you want to beg me to let you stop?”

“Your toes are curling, aren't they? I wish I could hear you and see you panting like a bitch in heat. Should I throw you a bone? Would that satisfy that sad cunt of yours?”

You are writhing, and panting, and every other filthy thing he’s pegged you as. But—you don’t want to stop. You’re too far in now—your whole body shaking, and your breaths coming quick as the vibrator on your clit overwhelms you.

It’s overwhelming, but you can’t stop chasing that high. You—

“Actually…that's not a bad idea. Stop—now.”

Despite not wanting to, you immediately yank the toy away.

You hear yourself whining, unable to help it.

“Hopefully you didn't cum in the last 30 seconds. If so…whoops~”

You wish you could kick him.

“This final orgasm is going to be our grand finale, so we should really let the sparks fly. And maybe your juices, depending on how hard you cum.”

“Grab your dildo—shove it in.”

You scramble to grab it—your arm darting to the side to recover the dildo you’d discarded a short while ago. 

As soon as you have it, you spread your legs and press the head at your entrance—stuffing it in without any preamble.

A pleasant sigh leaves you as that full feeling returns.

“You're going to fuck yourself with it—however fast or slow, I don't care. And at the same time, turn your vibrator back on high.”

You can tell where this is going, and you honestly think it may kill you, but you follow his instructions nonetheless.

Turning the vibrator on high, you place it back on your clit and then begin fucking yourself with the dildo. 

Almost immediately, involuntary sounds slip out of you—your body writhing against the sheets.

The overwhelming strength of your vibrator on your clit now partnered with the messy rubbing of your dildo between your walls…you’re truly becoming the mess he promised to make you.

“Oh, and just so things don't end too soon, you need to hold out for at least one minute. I'll let you know once you have permission to cum.”

You hardly think it’s fair that he’s saying this now, considering you’ve already started fucking yourself, but even so, you want to listen—want to be a good girl who does what he says, and only cums when permitted.

Holding out for a whole minute when your cunt is already starting to spasm—your clit feeling like it’s on fire—is certainly going to be a challenge, though.

“You know…I bet if this were a live call, I'd be able to hear how wet your pussy is. You're probably gripping onto that dildo so tightly…as if it's a real cock that you're begging to properly breed you.”

If he were here you wonder how he’d fuck you. Certainly hard enough that you’d be able to hear the slap of his balls against your pussy—

“You must be panting, huh? So ready to cum…I wonder if you’d be obedient enough to cum when I say. Why don’t we try? We’re getting close to a minute, after all.”

Oh, fuck. 

You’ve never cum on command before, but you want to for him.

“C’mon, princess, I know you can do it…keep going…get yourself right there—”

Your chest shudders, and tears blot your eyes.

You’re trying. Everything feels so hot. 

The arousal in your tummy swells—tightening up, and searing your insides.

“Cum.”

A sob rips from your chest, and you grind your dildo against your g-spot one final time, before your body obeys, and releases.

With the vibrator on high, this orgasm is much more intense than the last. 

Your breath catches, your spine curving, and your hand releases the dildo in favor of grabbing onto your sheets for dear life.

Despite the clamping of your pussy around the silicone cock, it still manages to slip out of you after a few seconds—flopping onto your mattress, and poking wetly against your ass.

When the pleasure on your clit starts to turn to pain—you finally tear the vibrator away. You turn it off, and weakly discard it onto the bed beside you.

Despite no longer having any toys in or on you, your cunt and clit continue to twitch with aftershocks.

You take a deep breath. 

Hat Guy is still talking in your ears, but your brain is too scrambled to process what he’s saying. So, you just continue to lay there until his words sound more like words again.

“Alright, you must have cum by now. Take a minute to breathe. And when you’re done catching your breath, make sure you get up and go pee, and then get some water. Because I’m not about to be liable for any after-effects of this session.”

Despite being exhausted, you can’t help but quietly laugh.

“Good job making it through. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon…mostly because I’m sure you’ll be opening this file again to get off to, haha.”

“Later~”

The audio ends.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Then, you roll onto your side, slowly get up, and head for the bathroom.

Can’t let Hat Guy be liable for you, after all.

The following morning, you wake up with sore muscles, and a determination to go and beat up Yae Miko and Lisa Minci about their “gift”.

Yeah, maybe you are a little less tense than before, and the stress that had been clinging to you after the end of the previous semester is now gone, but still. They deserve a good scolding.

First, however, you have to go to your 9AM lecture. After that, you’ll have time to run to the library.

Despite the soreness in your thighs, you manage to trek across campus and make it to your class with time to spare. You chose a seat somewhere in the middle, and then set your bag down in the chair beside you.

With nothing to work on yet, considering today’s the first day, you entertain yourself with social media apps on your phone as the lecture hall slowly continues filling up.

When there’s only a minute left before the class is set to start, there’s a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, realizing they’ve probably been trying to get your attention, you immediately take out one of your headphones. Before you can even turn to face them and apologize, they’re talking.

Except…the voice of the person beside you is…eerily familiar. Scratchy, attractive, and perhaps a little annoyed—

“Do you mind moving your bag? There aren’t very many seats left.”

Without saying a word, too stunned to speak, you reach over and move your bag to the floor at your feet. The man grunts, and takes a seat beside you.

As he pulls out his laptop, you finally build up the courage to look at him. 

Dark hair and eyes to match…slim fingers, but veiny hands…a black shirt and oversized jacket—

“Do you need something?”

Oh, fuck—you’ve been openly staring.

Your eyes meet his for the first time, and you open your mouth, but no words come out. The beat of your heart starts to get faster.

He cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at you.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

This is just too much—there’s no fucking way this is happening—

Unfortunately, before you can finally pull it together and try to redeem yourself, your professor takes the podium at the head of the room.

“Class! Welcome! While it might be a little unconventional to start the semester out on this note, I just want you all to know in advance: this class will heavily rely on cooperation with others. There will be many team projects. In fact—the person you’re sharing a table with will be your project partner for the whole semester!”

…what.

Beside you, the man sighs—clearly unhappy to hear about there being group projects, or you being his partner, or both.

“Great, looks like we’re stuck together.”

“Yep…,” you mumble in response, the first word you’ve managed to speak since his arrival.

He obviously notices, because his lips pull into a teasing little grin, his eyes remaining trained on your still-speaking professor as he whisper—

“Oh, would you look at that? She speaks.”

Your pussy clenches.

Mhmm, yep! 

You’re gonna go jump off a bridge.

[sturnsdarling]

'Stay the fuck away from her'

{based on this ask I left in @sturnioz inbox} fratboy!chris leaves shy!reader alone at a party for the first time and it goes south, quickly.

vibe check: fighting, violence etc, pressure to do drugs, fratboy!chris being a guard dog, fratboy!matt being a lil bruiser (i love him) a TINY bit of fluff bc I cant help myself and I'm a sucker for an asshole (fb!chris) with a soft spot (s!reader)

1.6k words

A/N: based on cas' fratboy!chris au. FUCK I love this. I had this idea after cas' lil blurb about jealous!fbchris and she told me to write it so mother gets what mother wants. another day another slay y'all lets fucking go. PART TWO HERE

love and cigs, merc

The frat house was nearly vibrating with the movement of hundreds of people, all moving, dancing, fucking and taking drugs in every millimetre of the house.

Chris and Matt were off doing their rounds with the freshers, Chris handing out his new stuff to all the sorority girls that pushed themselves against him before palming them off to Matt, who was just as uninterested in them but of course, made the moves to make the sale.

Tonight was a big night, it being the first party back after Christmas break so, the boys actually left you by yourself for the first time ever to make their rounds. Of course, Chris had instructed Nate to watch over you, but he was so faded that he could barely look after himself.

You were sat on a smelly couch in a back room, pressed in between two rival frat brothers to Chris' frat, both of them fawning over you as you sat there uncomfortably, shifting in your skin at the sensation of them peppering encouraging touches over you.

"come on, baby, one lil pill wont hurt you" one said, holding a small white pill in front of your face, your eyes nearly crossing as you stared at it.

"yeah, it'll be fun, and don't worry, we'll look after you" the other said, menacingly smirking at his frat brother

you shook your head, "I'm alright, I don't do drugs like that" you said, trying to crane your head back from them.

"theres a first time for everything, baby" one of the boys said, pressing his thumb into your chin, attempting to open your mouth as his friend moved the pill closer to your lips.

Nate was sat on the other side of the room, two girls draped over his lap as he sucked on one of their necks, palming the other ones ass.

"oh fuck" he said as he looked over to you, pressed between two frat boys as they waved a pill in front of your face.

He pushed the girls off him and they whined in a huff. He lifted his lips and pulled his phone from his pocket, opening it and calling Chris.

"Chris, dude, theres some guys here n'there all over your girl, touchin' her n'shit, one of them has a pill and kid is basically forcing it in her mouth" he said down the phone.

Chris didn't reply, only hung up the phone with a tsk sound and summoned Matt to follow him.

Within seconds, Chris was in the room, searching around the sea of bodies for you. He met Nates eyes first, who was once again sandwiched between two blondes. Nate pointed over to the other side of the room to you. The sight made Chris' blood boil, a villainous smile etched across his face, shaking his head and pressing his tongue to the side of his mouth as the thought of what he was gonna do to that kid raced through his mind. You were desperately trying to free yourself from the trap the boys had laid for you, squirming as they touched you and edged a pill closer and closer to your lips.

Chris stormed over, taking a long drag of his joint before tossing it to the floor. Just as quick as he arrived at the sofa, his hands were wrapped around one of the boys shirts, pulling him off the sofa and throwing him on the floor. Everyone gasped, moving out the way and gawking at the sight of Chris coming to stand over him.

"dude what th-" the guys questioning was cut off by Chris coming down on him and clocking him round the jaw with a swift punch.

"Chris!" You shouted, jumping off the sofa and grabbing his shoulders.

He shoved you off him and turned back to the kid underneath him, swinging down once more and cracking his jaw off his knuckles.

"y'think you're hard 'cuz you pressure girls into taking your shit pills? huh, kid? y'think you're a fuckin' gangsta?" Chris screamed as he laid into him.

The guy was borderline unconscious as you screamed Chris' name over and over again. Matt came up behind you, grabbing you by the shoulders, "go stand with Nate" Matt said, pushing you in Nates direction.

You nearly fell forward as you stumbled over to Nate, unable to tear your eyes of Chris as he continued to hit the boy beneath him, never letting up despite the boys pleads.

"yo, get the fuck off him" His frat brother shouted, coming to grab Chris by the shoulders. His movements quickly cut off by Matt, pulling him backwards and shoving him back to the sofa.

"watch ya hands, tough guy" Matt chuckled, grabbing the guy by the scruff of his shirt and nutting him, cracking his nose off his forehead. The guy recoiled, blood pouring from his nose instantly as his hands flew to his face.

Matt pushed him back as he stumbled, meeting him on the floor with a brutal clock across his jaw.

Chris got up off the guy and pulled him up with him, holding his bloodied and swollen face inches from his, "think you're a fuckin' big dog, yeah?" He turned and threw the nearly limp guy on the sofa.

The boy shook his head frantically, holding his hands up as Chris stood over him. "no, no, I don't, I don't, I didn't know she was your girl dude, m'sorry" He stuttered.

"well, now you do, so stay the fuck away from her, yeah?" he spat, moving as if he was going to hit him again.

The boy flinched and whimpered, running away, leaving his frat brother to fend for himself as Matt continued to pummel into him. He was relentless, near enough laughing as the boy lost consciousness underneath him.

"you wanna force girls into doing shit? you wanna be a tough guy n'drug girls jus' so they'll fuck you?" Matt said, pulling the guy up off the ground by his shirt, "hows it feel bein' a fuckin' loser, huh? tell me kid, hows it feel?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" the guy cried and Matt just laughed in his face.

Chris panted as he watched the guy he near enough battered run away. He turned round to Matt, placing a hand on his shoulder and tapping him.

"s'enough, Matt, y'gonna kill him" he said, pulling Matt off the bloodied and battered boy on the floor.

Chris eyes immediately searched for you, finding you tucked into Nate, scared shitless of what you had just witnessed. He walked over to you, everyone in the room still staring at him as he did.

When he reached you, he grabbed you by the back of the neck and pulled you round to face him, taking your face into his bloodied hands.

"did they give you anything? huh? did they do anything t'you?" His eyes searched your face for any signs of drugs or bruises.

"no" you shook your head, brows furrowed as tears welled in your eyes.

Chris sighed and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. It was weird, Chris never hugged you like this, but as if on instinct you sunk into him, wrapping your hands around his waist.

"m'so sorry I left you alone, y'not leaving my side ever again, okay?" he muttered into your hair.

You nodded into his chest, whimpering slightly at the sensation of Chris breaking the hug.

"and you-" Chris spat, pushing Nate by the shoulders, "y'were s'possed to look after, her not let sketty fuckin' sorority girls distract you, fuckin' idiot" Chris said, insulting the girls as if they weren't right there.

"chill man, it all turned out peachy" Nate chuckled, stepping backwards with his hands up in surrender.

"get the fuck out my face, dude, can't even look at you" Chris spat, turning back to face you, taking your face in his hand once more.

"y'sure you're okay, kid?" he asked, soft eyes baring into yours.

you nodded, leaning into his gentle touch, the smell of iron lingering on his hand as it caressed your face.

"you didn't need to go that hard, Chris, you could have gotten hurt" you said, bringing a soft hand up to wrap around his wrist.

Chris chuckled, soothing a thumb over your face and raising his brows. "does it look like that kid could'a hurt me?" he asked, a prideful grin spread across his face.

You returned his smile and shook your head, gripping his wrist tighter.

"besides, you're important t'me, or whatever, so, I wasn't gonna let that fuckin' loser be all over you like that"

"I'm important to you?" you cheesed

"yeah, whatever, kid, try not to pull a muscle from cheesin' so hard" he rolled his eyes with a smirk.

"thankyou, for protecting me, Chris" you said, tugging at his wrist slightly.

"always" he said simply, before pulling you into a soft and quick kiss, his mouth slotting perfectly over yours, the taste of weed and shit beer lingering on his breath.

You chased the taste, whimpering slightly as he pulled away and dropped his hand from your face. You were smiling from ear to ear as he shifted his weight between his feet.

"wipe that smile off ya face, kid, s'not happenin' again" Chris said, referring to the kiss as he wiped a wet spot off your lip with his thumb.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

Working at a restaurant with 141!(Part 5)

The shithead owner decides that he needs to sign up for a "restaurant renovation" show. Chaos ensues.

"A fucking TV show?"

Gaz frowns while polishing glasses.

"Told him it was a bad idea."

Price shrugs, lighting a cigar. You are horrified, being on the screen for millions of people to see was nerve wracking. And it'll be the first time you meet the owner.

"Restaurant renovation... Lik' he gives twa fucks aboot renovating this shitehole."

Johnny ashes his smoke and passes it to you. You take a deep drag and sigh, this is gonna be a disaster.

~

Cameras are set up everywhere, everyone's mic'd up, there are too many people in too small of a space. Some obnoxiously loud man introduces himself. He seems to be an amalgamation of every TV host you've ever seen, wearing too much cologne and too much hair gel. He puts a hand on your shoulder,

"The place looks terrible but at least they got something nice to look at here."

He flashes a smile, cheap veneer blindingly white. You awkwardly laugh while Price steps in, introducing himself. You scurry away to the back where the rest of the boys are,

"I want everyone to be on their best behavior today. No fucking around. Don't make me look bad."

The owner is a bland man, average height and weight, with a shitty haircut and wearing an ugly flashy shirt. He turns around and briefly introduces himself, he already smells like liquor. Great. He gets waved over to get interviewed by the host. You and the guys watch from the other end of the restaurant. It's quite embarrassing, the host pointing out how run down the place looks, the menu is confusing and overwhelming, and then asks if he's drunk,

"I can smell the alcohol from here Carl... it's only 11am buddy."

The owner stutters and blinks,

"I- just uh, just a crazy night is all."

The host stares, unconvinced. Carl shifts awkwardly in his chair. The next segment was ordering food apparently, so you were up. You walk up to the table as the host asks you a barrage of questions,

"How would you say the fish is here? Is everything fresh? What do you think of the steak? Do you have any recommendations?"

When you say you only ate the fries from here and he laughs loudly,

"That is not a good sign folks!"

He stares at the camera, showing off teeth that were too big for his mouth before you walk off and punch in the order. There's a cameraman recording John and Simon cooking,

"Steak and potatoes."

John reads the slip out loud, they move around the kitchen while the owner watches. For such a simple dish there's a lot of chaos, Carl is yelling at them to move faster and cook properly, John is busy arguing with Carl and burns the steak, Simon plates up the food and hands it off to you. You place the plate down in front of the host,

"Oh...oh my God..."

You keep a straight face, hands behind your back. The host looks back up at you,

"Does the food usually come out like this?"

There's a tone of disgust and concern, his eyebrows turned up, you shrug. He stares back down at the filet and cuts into it,

"It's very impressive that one is able to overcook such a large piece of meat. That takes...skill."

You watch concertedly as he picks up a piece and puts it into his mouth, it looks like he wants to cry.

He goes on to complain about the quality of the food to the camera as he walks to the kitchen,

"At least it's clean back here. I've seen kitchens in wors- is that a fucking pigeon?"

Sure enough, there is. How the fuck did it get in here?

"Oh! I just left the door open to let some fresh air in..."

Carl awkwardly tries to catch the bird while the boys watch amusedly, even the camera crew stifle a laugh.

"Christ Almighty, what is wrong with you man?"

The host shakes his head, watching the whole scene in disbelief. Eventually, the bird is out of the building and the sweep of the kitchen continues.

"Food is not expired, everything is stored properly, it's all very well organized. I was honestly expecting worse."

The host walks up to the bar next, plucking up bottles and examining them,

"So, Kyle is it? How long have you been working here for?"

"Just a little over five years."

Gaz leans against the bar. There's a gasp and the host waves the camera over,

"Look at this shit,"

He points at the label,

"Expired in August,"

You look over at Gaz and Soap, they look like they're about to piss themselves, holding back laughs.

"Of 2012!"

The host looks disgusted,

"Why didn't you throw this away?"

"Carl told me to not toss anything."

Kyle shrugged. Soap is almost in tears, shaking, trying to bite back a howl of laughter.

The next two days are like this, you don't know why Carl hasn't pulled the plug on this fiasco yet,

"I think he's getting drunker as the days go by."

Johnny says, ashing his cigarette. There's a nod from Simon,

"I think he enjoys being embarrassed, seems like the type to get off on that."

'The big finale' as the host calls it, means getting a new menu, refreshing the cooks(John's) skills, and cleaning out the bar. The place is opened and there's a line out of the door. It's overwhelming, the customers are putting on a show, acting like dickheads and sending everything back even when there's nothing wrong with the food. Simon and John are on top of everything, putting out food as fast as possible, Carl is shitting himself running around the kitchen like a headless chicken. The night goes by fast and everyone is at the bar,

"So the cooks are for the most part competent, the waitress is amazing, and the bartender is well... The man can do no wrong. The problem here is you,"

The host points at Carl who is fucking sloshed swaying back and forth,

"I genuinely think this restaurant would be better off without you."

Carl starts bawling. The host is visibly uncomfortable. The boys and you are looking at each other. Then when all the cameras and lights are gone, it's all back to normal. Carl is looking for reassurance from anyone and you and the boys just pack up and head home, Price patting him on the back,

"You'll be alright."

~

A few months later, you're all sat on the couch watching the TV. Johnny's over the moon pointing at the screen,

"Look thare A am! See hou sexy A look?"

He's smiling and waving at the camera in the background of the scene where Carl is crying his eyes out. That gets a laugh out of Gaz,

"You're a sick bastard, Soap."

Once the episode dropped, the restaurant got busy for a few months. Most of the customers are horny women ogling at Kyle. On occasion you get the request to bring out "the scary looking one" and you just laugh it off.

"You're so lucky working with all these guys, I don't know if I'd be able to control myself,"

A particularly drunk woman said to you one day. You just smile while Kyle winks at you over his shoulder.

[loganbcrnes]

Mine

Logan Howlett/Wolverine x female!reader

Tags/Warnings: Smut, Fluff and Smut, Rough Sex, Dom/sub, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Logan (X-Men), Feral Behavior, Rut Sex, mention of frank castle, Explicit Sexual Content, Breeding, Impregnation, Marking, Blow Jobs, Logan has a big cock, and hes very hairy yes, Reader-Insert Authors note: originally posted this on my ao3, but decided to just upload the full one-shot here as well. link. Not beta'ed and no description of reader Summary: Logan unexpectedly goes into rut and you're there to help him through it.

You had no idea what you were anticipating when Logan came home from work. Before he left in the morning, he was acting stranger than normal. His temper was short, his motions were labored, and he wasn’t himself. His scent was also stronger than normal. It didn’t take you long to realize something was wrong, the bond felt stronger between you two like it was during the war and before you even began to make lunch, you received a text from your Logan.

Logan: I don’t want you to be alarmed, but I think I’m in rut.

This caught you by surprise. Most alphas these days didn’t get ruts and omegas didn’t get heats either. Just like they’re becoming rarer as time goes by. it’s sad really, back before the war, before Hydra - you were able to go into heat. You always spent it alone back in the 30s, you even got time off from your part-time job as a nurse when you were temporarily staying in Ireland. Logan could go into ruts too before Project X. during the war you both would help each other out, which led to you both bonding until the train mission fucked all of that up.

But now it’s 2021, over 70 years have gone by and 3 years since The Snap. You are forever thankful that both you and Logan survived it. You don’t know what you would have done if your beloved alpha was taken away from you once again. Since then you both decided to get a nice cabin in the mountains to get away from everything. You both were done fighting, tired of constantly losing people you loved. 

Logan got a job in construction in town about an hour away. So he didn’t usually come home until around 6 pm. You were thankful when you got the news that Frank Castle and his pack of alphas were moving a few miles away from your cabin a few months ago. You know it can get isolated in this area, so to have friends that you consider family to come and visit was nice.

There was no time to think about the next course of action though, it was clear what you had to do and something you thought you wouldn’t ever do again. Logan would be back in about half an hour, which gave you time to set up the room and go for a nice shower. 

You immediately went into one of the cupboards in your walk-in wardrobe for blankets. Logan didn’t necessarily like making nests, he always said and his quote: “ya’ don’t need to make those things no more lady, you use your alpha.” in his deep gruff tone. So you resorted to cuddling at least 2 times a day instead and he would fuck you into the mattress just how like it every time. 

Once you got a mattress onto the floor with a ton of blankets and pillows littered onto it, you went into the bathroom and stripped down. You cleaned up and once you were done, you slipped on a white silky nightie that reached down to your thighs. After that you got some nice cold water bottles to put beside the nest. As you were done you heard the door click open.

Logan could smell you before he even got out of his truck. His heightened senses were even more sensitive and he could smell just how wet you already were. All he could think about was knot, breed, mate- over and over as he got closer to the door.

It was rather embarrassing when he started to sweat and get a hard-on on his lunch break. He didn’t understand at first, but then recognized the symptoms to be a rut. Thankfully Frank was there to get him to leave, but damn did that hurt his ego a little.

Once he entered he was hit again with your strong scent. It was so sweet, sweeter than usual that he was beginning to think that maybe his rut could trigger your heat. He sure hoped so. Your scent was a mixture of roses and strawberries, he used to hate strawberries before he met you, but now it’s one of his favourite fruits.

You looked up from your iPad as Logan walked in and put down his backpack. “Hey,” you said as you got up, but were cut off by a squeak when he immediately jumped you. He picked you up by your thighs, making his way to your bedroom, his lips never leaving your neck. He nipped and sucked little bruises into your soft flesh. He put you down gently onto the mattress and started groping your breasts. 

“Fuck, I’ve been thinkin’ about this all day, Darlin’”. Logan growls as he starts kissing down the valley between your breasts. He pulled back and slipped off your nightie, revealing your breasts and wet cunt. You blushed and looked away, but your alpha immediately notices. “Hey, no looking away from your alpha now,” Logan says as he grips your jaw to look back at him. 

“Sorry, Alpha” you shyly say. Logan only grunts back in reply as he stares down at you. You grip at his clothes, “off, please” you whine at him. Logan immediately starts to strip down, you stare at his glorious beefy body as he takes off his pleated shirt and jeans. Your eyes traveled the trail of hair down to his already hard cock. You lick your lips wanting to taste so badly. 

Logan notices as smirks, he leans back down to press his lips against yours, just as a whimper escapes through your lips, giving you a smoldering kiss which leaves you breathless within seconds, distracting you as he continues to run his hand up and down the curves of your body, getting closer to your sensitive parts.

You are gasping for breath when he pulls away, and in your complete haze, you watch him as he slowly climbs down your body, his lips never leaving your skin as he trails his hot kisses on you all the way down. He parts your legs further so he could get more comfortable between them, then when he presses a kiss at your nether lips, his fingers parting your folds so he could find your slick entrance and give a long, hungry lick right at where your desire is centered until you cry out. “Taste so fucking sweet ‘mega”. Logan growls as he licks your clit. You hear him moan and you open your eyes to look down at him, to see that his eyes are closed, totally blissed out as he sucks on your cunt, licking your entrance. You feel the hard tips of Logan’s fingers right at your opening, you moan when you feel two fingers parting your hot pussy, your walls instantly begin spasming around them, sucking them inside your depth.

“So hot, baby,” Logan growls, his warm breath falling on your sensitive folds as he whispers between the kisses he is giving you right at your heated core. “I’ve wanted to taste you since I could smell your sweet scent before I even got outta my car.”

You can’t think straight, you’re totally blissed out and your mind is filled with alphalphabreedmatealphabreed constantly, you reckon he has triggered your heat, but you don’t even realize and neither does he. His cock is stiff and swollen, you notice the center of his length has a bulge, showing that his knot is starting to form.  Your cheeks begin to heat up realizing that you’re doing this to your alpha. 

You go deeper and deeper into submission, surrendering yourself to your alpha, letting him know he can use you however he wants. Logan feels everything you feel, your bond is so strong that it’s overwhelming for the both of you. 

He continues to tease you with his fingers for a few more seconds and then the warm rasp of his tongue sends a series of shivers trembling through your body. He licks across your sensitive bud leisurely, biding his time with his eyes on you to take in every single reaction you are giving him through every lick, every swirl of his tongue. He has never seen anything so beautiful. He flicks his tongue from around your clit, down to your slit, moving back and forth as he continues to plunge his fingers into you. You begin to shake as you are nearing the edge.

He must have felt it, because he continues to lick at your cunt, slick pouring out as he slurps it all up, growls deeply against your pussy. “Come for me, little mate.”

You let out a whimper at his command but feel helpless to resist him. You can’t hold it in anymore as you come to your release. “Alpha!”. You moan out as you arch your back, Logan continues to milk through your orgasm and makes sure to gather every drop of cum.

Once you come down from your high, Logan pulls back and climbs up the bed kneeling right beside your head. Keeping one hand at your chin, he raises your head up as he uses the other hand to pump his cock, aiming the crown tip on your swollen lips. “Go and put your pretty mouth to use, Darlin’,” Logan says. A drop of pre-cum leaks from the slit, making you drool at the taste, while the heady scent of his cock fills your senses as you breathe him in.

You eagerly nod, barely catching a breath from your strong orgasm, he slips his cock through your open mouth, wanting to satisfy your alpha.

Groaning, Logan reaches down and squeezes your nipple as he thrust in and out of your mouth with almost the same force he would use if he is deep inside your pussy. 

“Love these tits of yours baby, love to see them jiggle when I fuck your tight cunt” Logan continues to grope your tits as he dirty talks. He thrusts into your mouth hard and you moan at his words, cheeks reddened at how dirty he’s making you feel.

You suck the entire length of him each time, loving the feel of the head of his cock at the back of your throat. Using his other hand, Logan grabs onto your hair, keeping you steady as he plunges deeper inside your mouth, pummelling deep into your throat each time he reaches to the brim.

His heavy balls filled with seed, slaps against your chin, loving the sensation and feeling dirty all at the same time. You dig your nails into his thigh with one hand and into the sheets with the other, holding on tightly as your lover uses your mouth for his pleasure. “So fucking good, baby. Always taking my fat cock so well. Look at you choking on it” Logan rambles as he thrusts into your mouth. He groans as you suck hard. You continue to choke as his knot is forming. 

Logan’s cock falls out of your mouth with a pop. The spasms of your climax remain. You close your eyes trying to catch your breath. You feel movement and blankets being moved on the mattress. After a few minutes, you feel a hand caress your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ears. You open your eyes to see Logan, his pupils are dilated to the point you only almost only see black. “You okay, Honey?” Logan asked. He leans down to press soft kisses to your cheeks and down to your neck. You hum as you lean into his touch, “Want you now Lo”. you said, “please knot me, need it so bad”. 

You’re a whimpering mess now, grinding your clit against Logan’s muscular thigh. Logan growls as he pulls back, he grabs a hold of your hips, flipping you over so that you're laying with your chest pushed flush against the mattress, legs bent, and the knees with your ass and pussy on full display. Your smell consumes him; all that he can think about is the taste of your arousal on his lips and how badly he needs to be inside you now.

His long fingers trace your slit as arousal floods from your entrance, coating your slick on his fingertips. Anticipation pangs at your chest as you wait for his next move. Everything in him wants to drive his hardened cock into you and knot you full of his seed.

Logan’s eyes screwed shut as he brings a finger up to his mouth, basking in the taste of you. A wanton moan erupts from his lips at the taste – so perfectly sweet he would never be able to get enough.

Dire thoughts rush through your mind as you rest on your elbows, face turned to the side to try and see Logan out of your peripheral vision. His pupils are completely blown, eyes focused only on your center as his chest heaves in anticipation. “Please Alpha, breed me, I’m ready,” you say to him. 

Logan is always less talkative during sex and now that he’s in his rut and possibly gone feral, his mind is screaming to him to knot and breed your tight cunt, to the point he can’t form words.

His hand is quick to line himself up with your entrance, grasping onto your hips with such pressure that it is sure to leave bruises tomorrow, even with your fast healing. Sharp fingernails dig into your skin as his tip meets your entrance. It’s fiery and red, inflamed and veins popping out alongside his length from how hard he is. The precum that leaks from his tip coat your slit, combining with the wetness dripping down your thighs to create a delicious mixture.

One last reassuring squeeze of your side is all he gives before pushing into you ruggedly. A sharp gasp leaves your lips as he makes his way into your core, feeling the familiar sensation you felt back during the war. His size is bigger, so much thicker and longer than his normal length when he is not in rut. It’s a lot to take in at once, and he’s trying his best to let you relax as your body adjusts to his size. 

“You can move,” you say, lip caught between your teeth as your walls stretch further around him.

With your fists grasping for the sheets, Logan begins thrusting his hips slowly into you– holding out a second each time he bottoms out to let you breathe. His nails only dig into your sides further, barely giving him a grip onto reality to hold back his animalistic instincts.

Deep grunts leave his mouth as he tries to hold himself back, but he can feel his humanity slipping further and further away with each clench of your pussy. His heavy balls slap against your clit.

“Can’t hold back much longer,” he bares his teeth, “need to breed you now.”

You moan out loud “please, please alpha, need you to fill me up with your pups” you continue to beg him. 

Quickly, his hips snap into yours, his thick muscles flexing as he holds your body steady, fucking into you deeply. Breath is sucked out of you as his pace increases; stars forming at the back of your eyelids as you squeeze them shut, mouth salivating at the increasing pleasure bestowing upon you. His length is a lot to get used to again, even though Logan tried to avoid knotting you back then because you both didn’t have enough time, there were times when he would sneak into your sleeping quarters to knot you in the middle of the night, his hand pressed against your mouth to reduce your loud moans as he thrusts his large cock into you; but the everlasting pressure against your g-spot was making the pain melt away.

Logan thrusts in and out of your pussy effortlessly, your slick coating his cock and making it easy for him to slide in and out of your velvety walls. With each thrust, he bottoms out, and it becomes difficult for you to remain upright. Limbs shaking from pleasure, your elbows begin to give way, landing you flat against the mattress.

Your mouth opens, but the only thing able to escape is a silent scream, too immersed in the feeling of him battering your walls and hitting your cervix to make a sound. A loud moan leaves your lips as he pulls you back up, his arms wrapping around your waist to use all his strength to hold you in position. His sweaty hairy chest is pressed flush against your back, the heat radiating off his body soothing you as his mouth meets your ear. A quick nip is placed on your earlobe as he catches it between his teeth.

“Taking me so well.”

He says in his deep voice. The praise quickly soothes your nerves, helping you relax into him as he holds your body close, closer than you had ever felt to him before. His tip is repeatedly hitting against the sensitive spot deep inside of you, you know he’s not ready to let up just yet, but you’re too on edge to hold on.

“Logan I-I’m gonna–”

“I can smell it,” he groans, mouth meeting your bond mark as he sucks harshly on it. 

A string of cuss words falls from your lips as your eyes clamp shut, relishing in your release as your pussy spasms around his cock. His movements don’t slow either – his pace is still erratic, plummeting into you at an ungodly rate.

Feeling your release over him only makes him thrust harder, deeper. It sends him into a full-blown frenzy, unable to keep himself from chasing his high. “Smells so sweet, gonna breed you, Baby, have you pumped up with my pups. Gonna look so sexy with your tits filled with milk and your pregnant belly.” he rambles, the more he talks dirty the closer you get to the edge. 

And you knew what this meant. You both finally have a chance to have children. Something you have always wanted when you first got together with Logan. Before meeting him, you never had high hopes to find a man and have a child or two. You were insecure and no one wanted a 26-year-old virgin omega. Especially since omegas were looked down upon back then.

But that time is over now, you're with the love of your life 70+ years into the future and everything you have ever wanted is here right now.

“God, do it, Logan, please knot me,” the words slip between cries, still shaking in the aftermath of your orgasm, “Breed me.”

So he does.

His eyes slam shut as his mouth finds the crook of your neck, breaking the flesh as his sharp teeth sink into your skin, reclaiming you once again. Screams blow past your lips as blood begins to trickle from the wound on your shoulder. Your chest tightens in pain, loving and hating the sensation all at once. Relief takes over once his tongue meets the small incisions made on your skin, his saliva filling the holes and alleviating the wounds as he licks up the blood.

“That’s it ‘mega. Doing so good for me. So perfect.”

Your heart flutters at his claim, have never felt as close to him as you do right now. Firecrackers lit through your veins, the connection between you and Logan binding stronger than ever and you couldn’t be happier. It felt like you were floating in thin air. Your body is unable to focus on any pain right now, you’re too blissed out from the shock of him reclaiming you to notice how his cock is beginning to swell inside of you.

Cum shoots out of his member, filling you up to the brim until your abdomen begins to feel heavy and swell. That floating feeling quickly begins to fade as his orgasm keeps coming and coming, no inch of your insides gone untouched by his seed. It seems like it's never going to end, and you can feel the pressure from his release building and building inside of you. Your sensitive walls stretch as his cock expands, your body doing the job it’s supposed to; knotting to plug you up and make sure none of his cum drips out.

“Logan,” you whine, tears spilling from your eyes as his cock continues to inflate inside of you, “Logan it kinda hurts.”

“Shhh It’s almost over, baby,” he comforts you, stroking your hair before guiding you onto your side, laying behind you. After such a rough round, his familiar touch eases your pain. The light kisses he places along your spine let you sink back into him, focusing on the feeling of his soft lips instead of the balloon-sized cock stretching your vagina. Gentle hands trace circles up and down your arms as you listen to the sound of his calming breath. His chest heaves as he tries to come down from the adrenaline rush.

Soft kisses soon turn into small licks running over the length of your back as you lay there, still speared on his cock. Now that his animalistic needs were met, it was all about you.

“What are you doing?” you frown slightly.

“Cleaning you up,” he answers calmly, his even more heightened senses finding nothing strange with this new method of aftercare. You’re too immersed in your thoughts to question him any further; if this is what his alpha side was telling him to do then so be it.

As Logan’s knot begins to subdue he doesn’t let go. His tongue soothes over the spot of his mark, all red, but could see the bond mark more visible than it was before. 

“Do you really think this will work?” you ask Logan. You don’t know what you will do with yourself if you aren’t able to get pregnant by this. “It will trust me, Darlin’. And if it doesn’t, we’ll try again and again until it does,” he says as he kisses your shoulder.

“You’re so beautiful, I’m so happy you’re mine after all these years.”

Butterflies flutter in your tummy as a smile stretches across your face. All you want to do right now is to turn around and kiss him, so you do. His face is just as bright as yours when you meet his eyes. His hair is messy and his skin is shining with perspiration, but he looks handsome as ever. He welcomes your kiss like he’s been waiting for it all day. Mouth chasing after your lips, capturing them in a quick kiss before pulling away.

It's the first time he’s seen your eyes since you’ve gotten home, and even then he couldn’t appreciate them as he could now. There's a different glow that he didn’t notice before. Maybe it's because he’s reclaimed you and knotted you after all these years, but he is willing to do anything and everything for you.

“I love you,” you sigh, pressing your palm to his cheek. He looks so innocent now, the blackness in his eyes now faded back to the hazel color you love so much. All the years and pain he’s been through, disappeared. 

“And I love that you’re mine.”