#her pulse is ok too

[your-local-fools-treasury]

my grandma isn't feeling too well and I am so fucking scared

I'm literally on the verge of crying uncontrollably

I don't wanna loose her too

I couldn't deal with that

I just really, really hope she'll be alright

[yuujispinkhair]

Bad Boy - Good Toy

Sukuna is used to girls throwing themselves at him, begging him to dominate them. He never met any resistance. He never met any challenge. Until he meets you, and suddenly, the bad boy becomes nothing but a willing fucktoy.

There is now a Part 02

Pairing: Sub!Sukuna x Dom!Reader (female) Genre: smut, College AU Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, degradation, humiliation, edging, exhibitionism, voyeurism, smoking, mentions of drugs, sharing chewing gum, facesitting, squirting, abs-riding, overstimulation, Sukuna cums untouched, piss (Reader pees on Sukuna to humiliate him, and he likes it). Reader calls Sukuna slut, fucktoy and fuckdoll. Unhealthy relationship dynamics. Reader and Sukuna don't talk about limits or safe words. Sukuna is ok with everything Reader does to him, but please be aware that this isn't the way a sub/dom relationship is supposed to be in real life. I just wanted things to be a bit fucked up in this story ;) Divider @/benkeibear

Sukuna is bored. So fucking bored. Bored with college in general, bored of the parties that are always the same, bored of the drugs that don't give him the kick he craves anymore. Even sex is boring nowadays. He sighs as his gaze brushes over the girl kneeling between his spread legs. He didn't bother asking for her name. He thinks she might be in his history course. But it doesn't matter. Nothing matters.

He doesn't even bother to hide from view, letting her suck him off in the back of the dimly lit living room on some ratty couch, while a few meters away, people are dancing and drinking and singing along to songs that Sukuna hates. She is eager, bopping her mouth on his dick enthusiastically, humming around him, and hollowing her cheeks like a champ. But he feels nothing at all. He isn't even sure he can cum tonight. It's like he is numb to everything. The nameless girl moans around his dick, and Sukuna grabs his phone to send his brother a message.

Where are you, brat? I want to leave.

He doesn't get a reply and instead checks his group chats and e-mails while the girl between his legs slurps loudly on his tip. Sukuna huffs in annoyance and lets his bored gaze travel through the room. It lands on a girl in a red t-shirt who is looking in his direction. You are sipping your drink casually while you unashamedly watch him getting his dick sucked.

It makes him grin broadly. Finally, a little bit of entertainment. Maybe he will manage to cum just to give that little voyeur a good show. And afterward, he can take you to one of the bedrooms and fuck you. Or maybe do it right here on that couch, too.

He winks at you. A smile spreads over your face, but it's not the smile Sukuna usually sees on the faces of the girls he plans to fuck. It's the kind of smile he sees in the mirror. A smile that means trouble. His cock twitches, and he groans softly.

He doesn't break eye contact, and neither do you. Sukuna raises an eyebrow challengingly, smirking at you, daring you to come over while he gets his dick sucked. His stomach flips when you really start walking towards him.

Sukuna's pulse accelerates when you stop right next to him. You let your gaze travel from his face down to his cock, watching it bop in and out of that other girl's mouth. You chuckle. It's not a nice sound.

"Aww, do you have problems cumming, Sukuna? Is your dick not working?"

For a stunned second, Sukuna just blinks at you, mouth hanging open. The resident bad boy rendered speechless for the first time in his life. And then he throws his head back and laughs, and simultaneously, he feels his balls tighten.

"If you get on all fours, I will show you just how good my dick works, sweetheart."

You roll your eyes and cross your arms in front of your breasts, looking at him with a bored and unimpressed expression.

"What makes you think I would let you get anywhere near me with that dick of yours. I don't want dirty, good-for-nothing sluts like you."

"What did you just call me?"

But his response lacks the bite. Instead, he sounds breathless, and his hand tightens on the couch as his cock twitches in the other girl's mouth. Fuck, it feels so good all of a sudden.

You smile that dangerous smile again and lean closer, your flowery perfume filling Sukuna's nose, and you repeat your words to him, slowly, overly accentuated as if he is stupid,

"Dirty. Good-for-nothing. Slut."

A raw groan spills from Sukuna's throat, and his hips buck off the couch, making the girl between his legs choke on his cock, as he nuts so hard into her mouth that she's spluttering his cum everywhere.

He stares wide-eyed at your smug face as the gears in his mind shift at lightspeed. What the fuck just happened?

The girl between his legs climbs onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, and tries to kiss him, but Sukuna turns his face to the side, looking at you instead,

"Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?"

"Why? Enjoyed it too much, and now you are scared of how your body betrayed you, little slut?"

You laugh and turn around, walking away while you lift a hand in a mocking little wave, and Sukuna stares after you with his mind whirling and his cock still throbbing.

He wakes up the next morning with a strange feeling in his gut. Something is different.

And after a moment, he realizes what it is when the memories from last night come back, and his eyes widen, and a whispered curse falls from his lips. The encounter with you replays in his mind just like it did countless times before he managed to fall asleep last night. Your cruel smile and the sadistic glint in your eyes. The way his body reacted to it.

He is so used to everyone cowering before him. So used to everyone submitting to him so willingly. All those countless girls throwing themselves at him, begging him to please let them suck his dick, obeying his every command, asking him if they can please call him daddy during fucking.

He never met any resistance. He never met any challenge. One look from him and the girls were practically on their backs with their legs spread like some animal in heat.

No one ever talked to him the way you did. Or looked at him that way. As if he is worthless trash in your eyes. Your words resonate in his brain. "You dirty, good-for-nothing slut."

Fuck! It turns him on. It makes him achingly hard even now. He turns onto his back and shoves a hand into his pants. He jerks off so furiously that his wrist hurts, making a huge mess all over himself when he cums to the thought of you calling him a useless brat.

Sukuna isn't the same man he was 24 hours ago.

He totally doesn't look for you on campus on Monday morning. It is totally a coincidence that he slides up to you when you pull out a package of strawberry bubble gum from the vending machine. It's definitely not like he followed you around like a puppy for a whole hour until he finally got his shit together and decided to approach you.

"Strawberry flavor, huh? Wouldn't have thought that a foul person like you would pick such a sweet flavor."

You eye him lazily, eyes never leaving his as you tear open the packaging and put one of the pastel pink bubble gums into your mouth before you grace him with a reply.

"Oh, shut up. An attitude like that doesn't fit a pretty boy like you. Learn to behave, and then we can talk again."

Sukuna feels his lips lift in his trademark smirk as that weird, exhilarating sensation fills his veins again. He is enjoying himself far too much. He braces himself against the vending machine, his large hands on both sides of your face, caging you in, towering over you, while he smirks down at you.

But you don't seem intimidated at all by his height and muscular figure and the tattoos on his face. Instead, you smile at him and cock your head to the side, eyeing him expectantly as if you are waiting for him to do something.

He leans down, bringing his face closer to yours.

"Can I have a gum too? Please? See, I can behave very well."

His voice has dropped to his usual flirty, seductive tone, which he always uses on girls. The tone that always drives them crazy and makes them drop their panties faster than they can say his name.

You flutter your lashes exaggeratedly at him, smiling a sickeningly fake angelic smile as you open your mouth and pull out your gum.

"Ok, you can have one since you asked so politely. Open up, slut."

He laughs when you push the used gum to his lips, but Sukuna isn't one to back down, so he grabs your small hand, wraps his tattooed hand around your wrist, and opens his mouth. He licks your fingers, lets his tongue-piercing glide over your fingertips, and sucks the used bubble gum into his mouth.

You gaze deeply into his eyes, looking amused.

"You didn't even say thank you, Sukuna. You are still such a useless and rude brat."

You turn on your heel and leave him standing there like some rejected loser, and he chews the gum that tastes like strawberry and your spit and feels his cock twitch against his sweatpants.

Sukuna sees you again on Saturday at another party. Two girls danced with him and asked him if he wanted to fuck them both upstairs in one of the bedrooms, but he turned them down, not even able to grasp why.

Until he walks into the kitchen and sees you. And suddenly, things fall into place.

Why bother with those random girls when the one he really wants is you? You are the only one who poses a challenge. The only one who makes his skin tingle with excitement. The only one who makes him feel like he is still alive and not some fucking ghost.

He leans against the fridge and watches you while he lights a cigarette. He smokes it in silence, just smirking at you and hoping you will come over and call him a slut again. Or any other degrading name you can think of. Sukuna isn't picky.

You walk over to him, a few drags into his cigarette, and stop in front of him, so close that he can smell your sweet perfume again. And you smile that smile that isn't sweet at all as you reach up and take the cigarette from Sukuna's lips. Your eyes never leave his as you bring his half-smoked cigarette to your mouth, wrapping your lips with the red lipstick around the filter right where Sukuna's lips were a moment ago, and the sight is so sexy to him that Sukuna has to bite his lip not to moan.

You take a deep drag, and your eyes close for a moment as the nicotine fills your senses before they open again to gaze up at Sukuna through your long lashes, grinning as you slowly blow the smoke right into Sukuna's face.

He laughs, pushing himself off the fridge, stepping closer to you, so close that his hips brush against you,

"You know what that means, right princess? Blowing smoke in someone's face?"

"Who doesn't know that?"

You roll your eyes and look at him as if he is stupid, and he can't help but place his large hands on your waist and drawl in his best bedroom voice,

"So, you admit you want to fuck me?"

You smirk back at him as you push his hands off your waist, sounding dismissive when you shrug and say,

"You have a pretty face and a good body. And I am horny right now. So why not? And you are probably a good fuck, with all that practice you had."

"What makes you so sure I want to fuck you?"

"Oh, don't be silly. You won't say no. A slut like you never does. Everyone knows you are easy."

Sukuna doesn't bother telling you that he just turned down two hot chicks half an hour ago. He lets you grab his hand and pull him along, and he follows you with a broad smirk on his tattooed face.

His cock is already pressing against his jeans when his crotch brushes over your ass when you pull him up the stairs. His mind is hazy, thoughts clouded over by lust, finally feeling that sweet, exciting buzzing again that he missed so much.

You pull him into one of the bedrooms, yank off his t-shirt, and push him onto the bed. Or you try to. You push against his broad chest, not able to move him an inch, but he plays along and lets himself fall onto the bed, looking up at you with heavy-lidded maroon eyes and his throbbing erection leaking pre-cum into his pants like some pathetic little virgin before his first fuck.

Sukuna licks his lips when he watches you reach under your skirt and take off your panties. That's the only thing you take off before you join him on the bed, straddling his thighs, making him smirk at you like the devil that he is,

"So eager to get my cock inside you that you can't even be bothered to get naked, princess?"

"Shut up, slut. Good boys don't talk unless I allow it."

Your little hands are on his belt, opening it, unbuttoning his jeans, and pulling down the zipper, making Sukuna's hips twitch when your hand rubs over his boxer-clad erection. He knows he is acting pathetic right now, cock so eager, already staining the fabric of his boxer briefs with a ridiculously huge amount of pre-cum. But fuck it, he is finally turned on again, finally excited to fuck again after all those months of feeling bored.

He pushes his hard cock against your hand, but you pull away again, smiling that devilish smile at him as you crawl on top of him.

Sukuna laughs breathlessly when you hover above his face, letting him know what you want from him. His large hands reach out to run slowly up the back of your thighs before they cup your ass cheeks, and he pulls you down onto his face.

He groans when your hot wet pussy settles on his tattooed face. Fuck, he always heard his brother go on and on about how hot he finds it when a girl sits on his face with a skirt and no panties. Sukuna had never found it so fascinating until now. Until it is you, and you tell him in that emotionless voice,

"Get to work, my little slut. If you make me squirt, you will get a reward."

He turns his face and moans against your inner thigh, leaving a kiss there,

"And what will my reward be?"

"I'll allow you to cum."

Allow him to cum?

Fuck. The words alone make Sukuna throb in his boxer briefs, another pearl of pre-cum leaking out of him.

"Then stop acting like a squeamish virgin and sit on my face for real."

"I told you to shut up, brat."

"Then shut me up with your pussy."

Sukuna grabs your ass cheeks tightly and pulls you down further, making you sit on his face for real. He isn't just a good fuck. He is the best fuck, and he will prove it to you!

He sucks your little swollen clit into his mouth and laughs when you gasp loudly. You grab his hair, tugging on it, making him groan as the slightly painful sensation goes directly to his throbbing cock. And he spoils your pussy like the slut that he is. Teases your clit with the stiff tip of his tongue and pushes the metal ball of his tongue piercing under the hood of your clit until you tremble and moan loudly.

He gets really into it, fucks you with his tongue and sucks savagely on your clit, eats you so good that it only takes a few minutes until you let out a high-pitched squeal and buck wildly against his face.

Hot, sticky liquid gushes over his lips, and you rock against him, voice breathless but still so stern,

"Open your eyes. Watch me cum all over your pretty face. Yeah, take it all, you little slut. Drink it all up."

Sukuna's eyes meet yours, and he moans, and his hips buck involuntarily, cock so desperate that he is rutting against thin air while pulsing pre into his boxer briefs.

He drinks you up, pushes his pierced tongue deeply into your twitching pussy, and licks it all up, basking in the way you mewl his name for a split second before you regain control and run a hand through his tousled pink hair, smoothing it down again,

"You are a good little fucktoy, Sukuna. Well done."

Sukuna's cock throbs at your words, and he blinks in surprise. Ok, so it's not just degradation that gets him excited, but also praise? Well, he is so fucked. So thoroughly fucked, and he loves every second of it!

You climb off his face, kneeling on the bed beside him, and let your small hands trail down Sukuna's defined pecs and his taut abs, following his tattoos down to the hem of his boxer briefs.

"You have such a nice body, Sukuna. The perfect little fucktoy. And what about that pretty cock? Is he perfect too, hm?"

A breathy gasp falls from his lips when you run a single finger over the thick bulge in his boxer briefs, slowly running up and down his whole throbbing length. Just a light, teasing touch, but it makes his vision blurry and pulls a desperate-sounding whine from his mouth.

It's so fucking humiliating. He's making such pathetic noises. But he simply can't bring himself to care. Not when he finally feels alive again when he is with you. His low voice is thick with need when he whispers,

"You said you would make me cum."

"Uh uh, I didn't say I would make you cum, sweetheart. I said I will allow you to cum. Let's see how things will go. Let's see how excited my little fucktoy will get. Don't forget what you are here for, Sukuna, baby. You are in this bed to serve me."

"Fuck..."

It takes all of Sukuna's willpower to not shove a hand into his boxer briefs and relieve that fucking pressure.

You straddle him again, sit on his abs this time, rubbing yourself on them, making him gasp when he feels how wet and hot your pussy is and how you spread your cream all over him. It's sexy. Nasty, just as he likes it.

Sukuna can see your face now, and it makes his chest fill with elation when he sees the fucked out expression on your face as you slide over his firm abs, rubbing your little clit against his hard muscles, your eyes closing and lips hanging open dumbly when you moan so sweetly and twitch on his stomach, reaching another orgasm on him.

He could sneak a hand behind you, could jack off behind your back, but he doesn't do it. He wants to be your good little toy.

You don't stop but keep rutting against him, your fingernails digging into the swell of Sukuna's pecs, leaving their crescent-moon-shaped marks there as you abuse your puffy clit further on his abs.

And Sukuna grabs your hips and helps you ride his abs, grinning as he hears your harsh breathing and feels you starting to tense up again. Another loud squeal tumbles out of your mouth, and Sukuna is about to taunt you for being so horny for him that you cum on him three times in a row when he feels something hot and wet on his abs, much more than during your other two orgasms.

You hum and grind against him as more wetness flows out of you and onto Sukuna's stomach, warm and sweet-smelling, and Sukuna's gaze snaps to yours in understanding.

You laugh and rub yourself against him, smiling that devilish smile as you pee on him. And he can't hold back the loud moan falling from his lips, can't stop his cock from twitching, almost cumming in his boxer briefs.

"You like that, you fucking pervert? Yeah, Sukuna? You like getting peed on? Well, I have more for you, my nasty boy."

You slide off him, hands grabbing his boxer briefs and pulling them down, finally freeing his aching cock. Sukuna groans when it springs up, bouncing lightly, rock-hard, pre-cum dripping down from it onto his abs.

You throw one leg over his thighs, kneeling over his stiff cock, and then more piss rains down from your hot cunt and onto Sukuna's cock.

And Sukuna moans and curses loudly as his back arches off the bed, and he cums all over himself, untouched, shooting hot ropes of cum out of his tip, all over his abs, and over your cunt that's hovering above him.

His vision goes black for a moment, and his breath comes out in loud, harsh huffs, his whole body shaking from the intensity of his orgasm. He thinks he never came so hard in his life.

You laugh and finally sit down on Sukuna's twitching cock, letting it glide between your wet folds, making him buck against you. But you don't let him push inside you. You just rub your wet cunt slowly over his spent length, watching with an amused smile as you milk every last spurt of cum out of Sukuna while you let more pee trickle over his cock, mixing his cum with your piss.

Sukuna's heart is beating so fast that he feels lightheaded. And the overstimulation makes him sob, makes his oversensitive cock ache and twitch, but oh, how he craves this sweet pain. He lets his head fall back on the pillow, letting more low moans spill from his lips, eyes closing as he pushes his slowly softening cock between your pussy lips, whimpering softly anytime that delicious pain pulses in his length.

He doesn't know how long it takes before you stop moving on him and slip off his lap. But he sighs when the sticky heat of your cunt leaves his cock.

The bed creaks as you crawl up to him to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, whispering in his ear,

"You are such a mess, Sukuna. Such a cute mess for me. I'm excited to see what else you can give me, my little fuckdoll."

You leave him lying there on top of the blanket, his cock pulsing hotly from the overstimulation, mind hazy with post-coital bliss, chest heaving with heavy breaths, skin sticky from his cum, and your squirt and pee.

It's disgusting, and he should feel embarrassed, but he can't help but moan softly as a small smile creeps over his face. Sukuna feels satisfied like he hasn't felt in months. He hopes you will use him again as your personal fucktoy very soon.

FUCKTOY SUKUNA, I WANT YOU 💗💗 I wrote the first draft of this story a while ago and then thought I wouldn't dare publish it because it's too nasty, but I changed my mind, lol. I hope it was ok and that my fellow sub!Sukuna enjoyers accept this treat ;)

There will be a second part!! The story got too long, and there would have been too many sex scenes, so I decided to split it.

Thank you so much for reading 💗 Reblogs and comments would be very sweet!

HERE IS PART 02

[bluetimeombre]

˚ · . Nothing fucks with my baby, ˚ · .

You are Hugh's young controversial girlfriend

[FINALLY! it's here, I have kept you all waiting, I hope I haven't disappointed! I said in the other posts that I wasn't gonna do much smut but I think I went more than even I thought. Got me blushing and kicking my feet. I hope you enjoy, I'm still riding this Hugh train (want to be riding him) who said that?]

warnings: older man! younger reader! fem!reader. Not proof read. Smut! Penetration, riding, oral (both receiving) praise kink,

Only a bed separated you and Hugh.

"Ok, so we're gonna pick it up from where we left it last time," said the director. "Get ready."

Hugh was in black clad trousers, shirtless, 'sweat' that was really water sprayed. His hair was already messy, perfectly so as if you'd been running your hands through it.

You still had a robe on, your makeup artist touching the highlight to be 'sweat' while Hugh watches every sway of the brush on your cheeks.

The scene was this: Hugh's character seduces yours. Well, there was seduction on both ends, characters or not. It was the first kiss, the first sex scene, the first true intimacy between your two characters. It was hot, heavy, sensual and loving. It was supposed to be all gripping hands and racing pulses, moving bodes and fumbling lips.

But it was the first kiss scene you'd share with Hugh. There'd be plenty more to come, but the director thought it would capture the true emotions of your characters to get it first try.

"Yummy," whispered your makeup artist in your ear as she leant over, slowly un-doing the ties of your robe.

"Play nice," you mutter to her.

"You don't," she winked before parting with your robe, leaving you in your silk nightgown that fell mid-thigh.

Hugh gulped, his eyes raking over you as you smiled. Your nerves were sky high, but Hugh seemed already in character.

He played the groundskeeper in 1930's Britain, best friend of your 'father', playing blackmail and seducing his daughter. You. And boy was it easy for Hugh Jackman to seduce you.

The cast and crew had been great at making the both of you comfortable and you'd all been for dinners, lunch's, cast parties, yoga sessions. They'd done everything to make it comfortable. And it had worked. You and Hugh got on like a house on fire, always around, always laughing. But there were the lingering looks once the laughter died, or the 'goodnights' that lasted longer than appropriate, and the touches, the constant excuse for it.

Maybe it was because you were young, alluring to a man not long divorced from an almost thirty year marriage. Maybe it was because he was everything you ever wanted, but you had a feeling lines were going to be crossed. The pit in your stomach was either dread... or desire.

"Right, all set?" the director asked.

Hugh smiled, patted his thighs and nodded.

You flashed a smile too but wiped your palms down your dress, un-knowingly shuffling it on your chest.

Hugh caught the movement and gulped. He was screwed.

"Action!"

You watched as Hugh, in character, stalked toward you. As scripted, you took a step back, hitting the bedpost but kept his gaze. You were a headstrong character, and you could do that, even if your knees felt weak.

"You er, get dressed for me, pretty girl?" he asked. He slipped his fingers through the strap, fingers caressing your skin.

Your shiver wasn't scripted and as Hugh's eyes flickered to your own, you wondered if he knew that. "You should go."

"Your pa's not home."

"My mother is," you whispered, standing taller on the bed post as if you weren't afraid.

He smirked and dragged the strap down until he could see your bare shoulder. His eyes flickered back up to yours. "Wendy's a nice woman. She doesn't expect much."

A furrow in your brows, as planned. "How dare you-"

Hugh kissed you with such force your head came back to hit the bedpost but his hand was already cupping the back of your head, easing the thump as he pressed you against it.

It wasn't scripted.

His lips were as soft as they looked, mixed with the gruffness of his stubbly beard that dragged over your chin as he dived into you like a man starved of breath. You obeyed his every move, every tilt of his head you followed.

His teeth sunk into your lip and your gasped. His tongue dipped in, meeting yours gently asking for permission.

You grabbed his cheeks, drawing back enough to get a look at him. There was a wild frenzy in his eyes causing them to go darker, but beneath that you saw his concern, his worry that he'd gone to far.

Whether this was acting or not, you didn't care.

You drew him back in, lips smacking as passion pulled both your strings. He groaned as you obeyed him, body flattening against yours.

His hands raked down your shoulders, taking the straps with you as you gasp and shiver. The gown wasn't supposed to come off but at that rate, you didn't care if it slipped a little. Hugh's hands moved down your sides, to your hips, gripping the material and bunching it.

"You," he gasped against your lips.

He met your gaze and you smirked, challenging him. Luckily, it could all work in character.

You had no knickers or anything on. It was all to easy to see the line in the dress if you did.

Hugh groaned and brought your head back to his, tongue wasting no time in sweeping into your mouth, tasting every corner and marking it as your own.

He spun you around until he was against the bed, his knees buckling and falling, you in his lap.

He groaned into your mouth, loud enough for the microphone above you to hear. Your lips paused on his, hands crawling into his hair as you felt it.

He was hard, so incredibly hard.

Hugh's eyes were scrunched shut as you backed away a fraction, his tongue licking at his lips for a taste of you. Your hair was starting to stick to your head from real sweat.

His trousers were pulled over his crotch, highlighting the size of him as your mouth watered and your thighs tightened on him. His gaze was hooded as he watched you in silent awe.

You bit down on your bottom lip as you pressed yourself against him, feeling every ridge through the tiny fabric of your nightgown. God, he couple feel every warmth of you. How much you wanted him.

He pecked your lips and brought your bottom lip out with his teeth. From the cameras and the lights and the amount of people in the room, the sweat on the two of you started to be real, mixed with your pants and soft moans that weren't necessary for the scene but needed to pass between the two of you.

Your fingers dug into the back of his shoulders as your rocked yourself onto him, grinding onto his clothed crotch to feel something.

Hugh kept one hand on the back of your neck, occasionally drifting into your hair and tugging with every rock of your hips.

You wondered if the director would ever call cut and you hoped he never would. If it all ended here. Your only consoling thought was the amount of intimacy scene's you and Hugh would have to share together.

He grabbed you and rolled you over as planned until you were flat, chest heaving with breaths and he was kneeling over you. His hands went to his belt, twiddling to undo it.

In a frenzy of passion, your hands reached out to help, grazing his bulge. He watched you as he finally un did the belt and your nails scraped down his thighs.

Hugh loomed over you, grinding down into your cunt until he could feel how wet you were, his lips coming to your shoulder. He didn't have to bite, but he seemed satisfied with it.

"Cut!" called the director.

Your hands halted where they were in his hair and Hugh fell against you, caging you to the bed as you both panted.

"Well done, guys, that was great, you got it over and done with. Now for the rest of them, but that'll come gradual," said the director as both Hugh's and your team came to the bed.

Still, neither of you moved.

"Gradual, yeah," you panted, your hands still stroking back Hugh's hair until you realised what you were doing.

Hugh kissed your shoulder once before rolling from you and taking the robe offered to him. You took things slower, knees weak at just the memory of him.

You took the robe and wrapped yourself up.

Hugh glanced back at you, not once, twice.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

You’d thought about it all day. Even as you half-heartedly did the rest of the scenes for the day. Your head was only half on set, the other half focused on the feel of Hugh under you.

In your trailer that night you played your music, gripping your hair in one hand and riding your hand with the other, trying to re-make the magic of feeling him under you.

God, how wrong it was. He was your costar. Old enough to be your father and your celebrity crush for god knows how long. You couldn’t be with him even if you wanted to, he’d probably leave the project if he knew how you’d watched every semi pornographic scene with him in it just to get yourself off.

The knock on your trailer altered you.

Quickly you pushed yourself from bed and wiped your fingers on your shorts, rushing to answer the door.

Hugh’s hands were braced on either side of your trailer door, panting as if he’d ran a matharon before turning up at your step.

“Hugh,” you smiled, desperate to act casual. “What’s up?”

He sighed, staring at you dreamily. He didn’t wait for an invite in. “I thought we could practice, some more.”

You looked up at him. You must have looked a mess, flushed cheeks and devilish hair, but he didn’t look much better. He was in a casual top, black sweatpants low on his v-line.

Daring to peak, you could see the indent. He was still hard.

Your thighs clenched in together from the overwhelming heat. “Yeah, of course.”

You sat next to Hugh on the sofa where you’d left your last script. Your thigh against his, his finger grazing your knee.

You cleared your throat, trying to read when all you could do was bask in every little touch from him.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” said Hugh. His eyes were on you, script forgotten.

Glancing from him to the script, you flicked a page. “I don’t- where does it say-”

With a rough hand, he tilted your jaw to him until your lips were a hairs breath away. His tongue flicked out, darting over your lips, begging. “Honey, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You gulped, mouth opening for breath or for him, you couldn’t tell which was more important. A hand crept up to cradle the back of his head. “I can’t tell if we’re practicing or not, Hugh.”

His head rested against yours as he moved it side to side. “Whatever gets you to fall in love with me.”

His eyes met yours.

“As if you even have to try.”

Your lips were soft and mouth wide as you received him, tongue gracing his mouth as he grabbed your hips to pull you on top of him, the script crinkling between the two of you. Your hands were in his hair, grown longer for the part, then raking down his neck then over his shirt until you were gripping it in your hands, pulling him closer to you while you lost air.

Hugh pulled back enough to kiss your jaw, biting at the skin.

“Is this-“ you gasped, holding onto his shoulders. Your thoughts weren’t working, nothing was. All you could think was him, his hands on your hips.

Hugh's lips reluctantly dragged away from your skin, as if he'd die to be parted. "Is it what baby?" when he saw your concern, his desire dimmed. All he wanted was for you to be alright. "Tell me," he brushed back your hair, thumb pulling down your bottom lip, after all, he still needed you like you might die tomorrow.

You sat back on his lap, trying to distract yourself from the dampness in your pants. "Is this real?"

"Doesn't it feel real to you?" he laughed, rocking himself into you.

"Is this Hugh?" you whispered, "or just your character."

His eyes softened. Hugh cradled your cheeks, holding you to look at him. "This is me and you, honey. I-I know this all seems sudden, and we can stop if you want-"

"I'm not saying that," you quickly cut him off as he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your neck. You wanted him, even if it meant heartbreak for you later.

He pulled back and looked up at you. "This is me wanting you. As y/n. As whatever you will give me. As my love, as my baby. As- as everything i've been thinking about for months. As everything I've been waiting for, baby," his thumb smoothed over your cheekbones as you nuzzled into his palms. "If i've made you feel like i'm using you i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, but this is real to me."

You glance up at him. Your lips press a kiss into his palm as you hold his hand to you. "Good," you mutter. You adjust yourself, settling down on his lap again until his clothed erection is begging for your wetness. "Because this is real to me too."

Hugh growled and kissed you, all tongue and teeth as he sort to get every piece of you in one. His arms, strong and large, wrapped around your back and held you into him until even when you pulled away to breathe, your breath was full of him.

With his strength, he pushed you down on your sofa, throwing the script behind him and pulling your legs until they were thrown on either side of his hips. He was lucky you were still in costume, your dress riding up to reveal your white panties, with a damp spot.

Hugh lied down, looking at your pussy as his one hand held down your hips, the other crawling up your chest to squeeze your breasts. "This real? This all for me, honey?"

"Yes," you gasp, running your hands through his hair as his salt and pepper beard scraped your thighs.

"You want me?"

"Yes, Hugh."

"How badly?"

"So, so badly," you whisper, eyes shut as his breath fans where you need him most. "Please baby, please."

He kissed over your panties. "So polite, honey. So good for me." He licked a stripe up, letting his tongue swirl over your clit.

Your back arches. As he repeated the motion before hooking his fingers through the band and slowly- agonisingly slowly- pulling down your panties and the scrunching them up in his hand.

He moaned at the sight of you dripping before him. How he had you panting by the smallest touches. You were his to touch. To ruin. To taint with him and only him. "Thought about this cunt of yours more than should be allowed."

You chuckle, propping yourself up to indulge in the sinful image of him between your thighs. "Yeah? Thought about it too."

"Tell me," he said. His eyes were on yours as he peppered kisses on the inside of your thighs, fingers indented into your flesh.

You moan, eyes fluttering shut. You think of every crude images you'd conjured in your mind. Him suffocating between your thighs, you sitting on his face, riding that perfect arched nose. Your mouth stuffed with his cock as he eats you out. Riding him. Up against a wall. Every filthy thing, you wanted to do with him. "Thought about your tongue, your cock, fingers, nose."

He laughed, glancing up at you. "My nose, huh?"

You chuckle with him, falling back and throwing your arms over your face. The laughter catches in your throat when you feel his tongue dive into your folds, the warmth spreading. You moan, legs going to close if it weren't for Hugh tapping them.

"Keep them open baby," his voice was rough in demand as he focused on you. On tasting you, on spreading your folds with his fingers- sliding them in and out to get a feel, as he shoved his tongue in depths you didn't know he could.

You bite down on the back of your hand, but your cry is barley muffled. "Fuck, baby."

Hugh eats you like he's starved man. He moans into your cunt, sending vibrations through your body that he receive gladly. It goes through him like you're one person. He finds himself grinding down on the sofa like a teenage boy. That's what you're doing to him, making him focus on you and not cumming before stuffing you with him.

"Hugh, I'm-" you mutter all too quickly.

"God, can't wait to taste you cum on my tongue, honey," he said. "You want my nose huh?" He stuffs his face into your pussy, tongue flicking up and down your folds as he nudges his nose on your clit repeatedly until he has your thighs shaking.

"Hugh!" you moan, holding onto his shoulder to stabilise yourself.

Hugh slides his fingers into you, using your wetness to his advantage as he continues to work you with his tongue. He slobbers, spitting down your folds and fingers as he works it into you, groaning at the sight. "Can't wait to feel this around me. God, I wanted you on my cock so bad, with the camera's watching, with the crew. Want them all to know an old man like me can have you falling in love."

"Always," you gasp, focusing on the warmth in your stomach and Hugh's fingers curling inside of you. "Want you to take me. Use me. Have me."

Hugh flattens himself against your sofa, groaning, eyes rolling in the back of his head like it's your mouth warm against is cock. He grips your hand that was on his shoulder and holds it until his fingers bleach white from the grip. He rests it on your sternum, looking up at you.

Wisps of your hair stick to your forehead, your chest spilling out the dress and rising and falling as your body trembles. You hold his hand just as tight, if not, tighter.

"Cum on my lips baby, please," he begged. "Want to taste you. Want to make you cum."

It took little more encouragement from you before you came on his tongue, gasping and grasping as you did. Hugh ate it up, licking the mess from your pussy and your lips. It has him quivering and knowing he'll need this taste every day just to keep him sane.

"Hugh?"

He glances back up at you. Your pink cheeks and wide eyes. He grins, licking his lips and wiping your juice from the corner of his lips and licking it from his fingers as he crawls back over you. He nudges his nose against yours and grins at your smile. "That was amazing."

"You're saying it like you just had the best orgasm of your life," you laugh.

His brows rose. "Best orgasm of your life, huh? I can give you plenty more where that came from?"

You smirk, running your hand from his chest to between his legs, rubbing your hand over his dick that trembles at your touch. Satisfaction gnaws at you as you watch his eyes shut and jaw clench.

"Baby, almost had me cumming in my pants like a teenager," he chuckled, shakily.

You tut, sitting up to have better access to his lap. "Can't be having that."

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

That's how the rest of the months of filming were spent.

At first, the two of you agreed to take it slow. Little dinner dates, grabbing coffee together and walks in the local parks. Luckily it was known you were filming together and the paps weren't too fussed.

You tried to take it slow, but the sex was anything but.

In the mornings when you were inevitably in the make up chair first thing- as the star of the movie- Hugh would join you, passing you your coffee order and breakfast before taking a seat next to you and chatting away with you and the make-up artists. Even if he wasn't shooting that day, he was there. On the dot. Every day.

Your team of people smirked knowingly even if neither of you confirmed it. But the stolen stares and kind offerings were enough. Surprisingly, nobody warned him about being with one so young and neither you him much older as he was.

Because everyone knew it was true, real love. Because first, it came from friendship.

He helped you with scenes when you asked, helping the emotions play out. Even you gave him new perspectives of looking and taking om scenes. It was refreshing. Life with you was refreshing.

The more intimate scene's became harder, oddly enough. Because you'd get to into it, the director yelling cut several times to tear your bodies from each other. Then, when you were alone at night, you jumped on Hugh, climbing him like a tree.

Sometimes you couldn't wait till night and dragged him into your dressing room, sliding down to your knees and un-doing his belt.

"Eager?" he'd tease.

You wouldn't justify him with an answer. Your hands messaging his balls and tongue licking up his cock until you had him down your throat or stuffed in your cheeks was enough for him.

At the end, you had to stop reading scripts with Hugh as his glasses perched on his nose was too much for you.

Enough times he knew that and would eat you out wearing them. And only them. You'd watch the lenses steam up as he licked and moaned in you until you were cumming over his chin, sometimes landing on his glasses.

"Honey, you're too much," he grinned and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

Dinner nights after long days always ended up with your foot gently trailing up his leg in his dress pants, his hand gripping your ankle as it inched closer to his cock, finger running circles.

Hugh would have to park in the dark and pull you onto his cock, ruining your dazzling dress and tearing the seams of his trousers to have his cock free and nuzzled into you.

One of your breasts was in his mouth as you rode him, his arm wrapped around your waist and helping you move. His cock warm and throbbing inside of you.

"Oh baby," he moaned around your breast, teeth pinching at your nipple. "Grip me like a dream."

His hand gripped your ass, pushing you and pushing you, throwing his head back and groaning out as the car rocked form your hard movements. It didn't matter how many times either of you had each other, it was a constant need never satisfied. You breathed new life into him and he wanted to use it all on you.

"Hugh, I need you!" you whined out even as his cock was deep in you.

But he got it. Because it wasn't enough for him. "I know, baby, I know!" he lurched forward and kissed you as you grabbed his cheek, keeping him there. Your tongues fought as you tried to catch your breath, bouncing on his cock. He growled. You whimpered.

"Fuck me, Hugh," you told him, biting down on his earlobe as you cuddled into him, bouncing on his dick as fast as you could to reach your third high that night.

"Shit, just there- right there!" he held your hips down as his cum spluttered into you, him growling and moaning out your name like prayer. Nobody in the world had been so devoted to something like Hugh was to you.

And the balance was perfect. The next night Hugh would join you in your trailer- where most your times were spent. You were curled into his side as he was shirtless, reading. Those annoyingly attractive glasses still there as he laughed at some parts of the book and you'd ask what it had said and he'd explain it to you while his fingers twirled strands of your hair.

The next day you'd be attached to him all day, lips forming as one as the camera rolled and the director gave you pointers. It was a scene of the two of you in the garden. Both indecent (although of course following Hollywood guidelines) Hugh didn't even let you up from his lap, instead holding you there as you both acted professional and took the director's words. You could fuck him, love him and work with him all you needed.

That night, Hugh would have you on the floor of his trailer, the two of you hardly making it through the door before he had his cock in your mouth, stirring you with his hands in your hair.

"Did so good today, my good girl, working so hard for everyone," he groaned as you chocked around his cock.

You took him deep and took him out, spitting over his cock and working him with your hand. "So big," you mumbled, drunk on having him. You sucked one of his balls into your mouth, devoting attention to both of them.

"Oh, fuck, y/n, you're gonna be the death of me. God, I just know you wanted to ride me with everyone watching, could feel how wet you were."

You take his cum down your throat, licking every last drop before you both fall asleep in his bed to film together the next day.

You both walk on set, laughing, smiling, with coffee in hands and every on set watches and smirks cause they know. Maybe they don't know all the filthy things you get up to, but they can see it's more than just another hollywood controversial talk.

But Hugh is in love with you.

taglist (thank you!): @oatmilkriver, @angstdaddy, @chronicallybubbly, @white-wolf-buckaroo, @th3mrskory, @wolfyychan, @chaimshelii, @wolviesgirl, @haytchee, @aoi-targaryen, @apizzacalledmel, @corvusmorte, @slut4you, @ellak69, (how you're only just on the taglist no idea babe), @wolverigrl

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Alley Chat (Dp x dc)

Danny leaned on the dirty alleyway walls, his head down, as he tried to stave off tears. Taking one more shaky breath, he did his best to let it out slowly.

“You’re fine,” he gasped. 

Then, one more gulp, “You’re safe.”

And then, “Breathe.”

“C’mon just-“ he heaved in a breath, “breathe goddammit.” 

Then he tilted his head backwards as his eyes slid shut. He inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, his heart-rate finally slowing down.

He brushed away the wet of his cheeks with the rag he’d shoved in his barista apron earlier. Figuring it was already ruined as it was he blowed his nose in it as well. Now if he could just splash his face with cold water, he’d be almost as new.

He reached for the stick of gum he knew he’d left in the bigger pocket only to freeze as he felt something smoother under his fingers. The card from earlier.

“This is for you,” his father had said, looking more unsure of himself than Danny had ever seen him. “Danny-o…”

“We’re sorry, Danny,” his mother had taken over, and there had been tears in her eyes. “We’re so sorry, we didn’t know-“

“You can’t be here,” Danny had said calmly enough, though his hand had been shaking.

“Danny-“ his mom had started, as she had reached towards him and Danny just couldn’t do this.

He had felt his pulse in his ear, his chest constricting and he hadn’t been able to think past the need to get out, out, out.

There’d been bright light, and then he had been away from the noise, and he had ran until he couldn’t breathe. 

And here he was getting pushed to the precipice by a fucking card.

“No,” he told himself but his eyes were already watering. “No,” he choked out, fruitlessly.

“Goddamit,” he hiccuped as tears began to fall. And then it was as if the dam had broken. Every single tear he’d managed to repress were now coming back twofold. His whole body was wrecked by big heaving sobs and he had a moment to be glad he’d found himself a secluded place to have his fit in peace.

“Oh, buddy,” he heard from behind just as the thought registered.

He turned around to find a guy in a skintight red suit looking at him.

“Are you ok?” The guy said before rallying. “That’s a dumb question, isn't it.”

The halfa just looked at the man.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Danny shook his head. He was actively trying not to think about it.

“Is it ok if I stay here ?”

Danny was too drained to care about a stranger witnessing this, so he raised his shoulders.

“I can talk if you don’t want to, I’ve been told I’m quite the motormouth.”

The man let a bit of silence pass before apparently he decided that was an agreement and he started blathering on about- rainbows was it?”

“-sure if compared against the big fishes, Rainbow Raider is far from the worst but I just can’t get over how petty his reason to turn to crime is. I’m not saying being colour blind would make being an artist easy but it doesn’t make impossible. Beethoven was deaf and look at him now! Ok that was poorly phrased, but you get what I meant-“

And on he went, talking about anything that was going through his head it seemed.

As it went on, Danny realized his hands had stopped shaking and there was a tugging at his lips that was ever so slight, but near miraculous so soon after his cry session.

“-where does the iron even come from? Like do spinach plants just make it? What does a spinach plant look like for that matter? I’m picturing like a salad plant but where do the stalks come from then,” the man hummed before there was a sound like a TV’s white noise and the man straightened. After a moment, he turned towards Danny and gave him a smile.

“I’m gonna have to run,” he said. “I’m not often in the neighborhood, so we might not meet again, so I wish you best of luck, bud.”

Another brilliant smile and he turned away.

Danny jumped forward in time to stop the man’s immediate departure. Said man turned to give Danny a quizzical look.

“Thank you,” said Danny painfully sincere.

The man’s face softened in a smile for a moment and then he was gone.

[jarofstyles]

Blurb idea: Harry fucking y/n from behind as her boyfriend calls and he fucks her hard through the call

STOP!!! Ok I’ll do it. 💅

Check out our Patreon!

warnings- cheating w h, toxic relationship, anal play, spitting, unprotected sex… Oopsies

——

Y/N knew she shouldn’t be doing it, but she couldn’t resist him.

Whenever Harry came back into town… she ended up in his bed. The curse of how rare good dick actually was and the fact that he was her longest hookup, she melted like butter the second he texted her that he had touched down at the airport.

The last few times had been… particularly interesting. She’d tried to cut it off, she really had. She’d said no, said she couldn’t because her new relationship was still in its seedling stage, but somehow she ended up in the hotel bed with him plowing into her regardless.

Sweat beading on her forehead, she gripped the pillow and moaned into it as she felt him spreading her ass open, watching his cock slide in and out of her. He hated condoms and Y/N hated not feeling him, so as risky as it was… she didn’t ask him to wear one. She knew it could make her a bad person, she hated the guilt she felt afterwards but there was something so explosive and hot about their sex, how he kissed like he was devouring her, that she couldn’t stop herself from taking it.

“There it is. Missed this pussy.” He mumbled. “Creaming all over my cock. Think she missed me too, hm?” His low chuckle had her shuddering, the curve of his cock pressing against her g-spot over and over again. It was hard to speak when he gave it to her, the pure primal need of getting back to one another making them both impatient.

It was only when her phone rang with the contact photo of her current boyfriend on the screen that he slowed his thrusts, a wicked laugh leaving his throat. “Answer it.” He lowered himself down to kiss her shoulder. When she didn’t respond, he bit down on the skin to make her jolt. “Said answer it. Talk to him.”

Y/N was making a mistake, she knew, but in the depth of pleasure she listened. Grabbing her phone and scrambled to answer, putting it against her ear as he pumped shallowly into her.

“H-Hello?” She tried to sound normal but failed. Harry felt his cock pulse as she let her eyes fall closed, the phone resting against the mattress as she pressed her cheek down onto it.

“No, I’m on my run. Remember?” There was no hiding the panting as Harry was cruel, holding on her hip as he pulled her back to fuck herself on his cock. It was a glorious sight, in his opinion, her sweaty hair all over, bare body on display, slick all over his cock from how much she loved him inside of her. It was fucked up to feel this sort of thrill, but it felt like a win. A victory.

He may think he had her, but at the end of the day she would belong to Harry. He got to fuck her bare, she came when he called. Ran to him and got on her knees, loved every second of it. It didn’t matter who she dated- she’d give into him every time.

“I’ll be back…. Um.” It was hard for her to talk considering she felt like all thoughts other than how good Harry’s prick felt balls deep inside of her had escaped her head since he had gotten her naked. “I’ll be back later. I may go see my parents tonight, so we may have to um.. reschedule.”

Harry fucked into her harder, leaning his face down to whisper into her ear. “Good girl. You’re not goin’ anywhere.” It had been a bit too long for him to be satisfied by one simple round. Besides… he liked to get his cuddles in with her. Regardless of them not being together, he knew no one would be better than her.

He could hear Y/N rattle off some day she could see him next, but he wasn’t a fan of her attention being elsewhere for too long. Spreading her ass apart again, he spit thickly over her ass and slicked his thumb over it. She couldn’t help the squeal that left her mouth, wide eyes shooting back at him as she brought her hand to her mouth to gather herself as he pushed it inside. The muffled talking and asking if she was okay could be heard on the other line but Harry didn’t particularly care, pulsing his thumb into the tight hole as her poor cunt wept over his cock. This was the fuck he had been desperately needed. “Say goodbye, baby.” He whispered, squeezing her ass.

“I’m okay!! Just twisted my ankle. Let me c-call you back.” As soon as the call was dropped, she let out a desperate moan and let him give it to her how he wanted.

“Naughty fuckin’ girl. Talking to that poor boy… all while you’re getting this slutty cunt fucked and your ass played with. But you love it.” Releasing his grip, he grabbed a handful of hair to lead her up, arching her back. “You love being a filthy whore f’me. So you’re gonna let me fuck you full of my cum in each one of your holes before I send you back to that pathetic excuse of a man. You get me?”

[marvelavengerspovs1]

Double Trouble

Pairing: Stucky x F!reader

Warnings: MDNI (SMUT 18+), dom!Bucky, soft dom!Steve, sub!reader, dry humping, spitting, masturbation, double penetration, degradation kink/name calling (slut to reader), praise kink, threesome, I think that’s it but lmk if I missed something

Length: 1.5k

Summary: Bucky will only allow you to let go if you have been good.

A/N: Thank you so much for the support on my last Stucky post!

MDNI! 18+ ONLY! I cannot control what you consume so you have been warned!

I do not give consent for my work to be translated, copied, or sold!

You never imagined your life would turn out this way. You never imagined that you would be an Avenger, that you would have some sick ass powers, or that you would be in a relationship. The best part is that you didn’t have to stick to just one man, you had two very handsome super soldiers to keep your bed warm at night.

You gasp as you feel Steve bite the small area where your neck and shoulder meet. He quickly licks over it and places a small kiss to relieve the pain.

“Steve…” You moan out his name.

Steve silences you with a kiss on your lips. You lean into him, pushing Steve to sit on the edge of the bed. Once he sits down, you straddle his lap. You push your pulsing core onto his hard and clothed cock.

Steve hisses, pushing you down by your hips and lifting his. “There you go Honey, you’re being such a good girl.”

You moan at his words. “Please Stevie, I need more!” You whine.

“Don’t listen to her Steve, she has a whole lot more begging to do.” Bucky chimes in from his spot on the bed.

Bucky lays on his typical side of the bed, the left. He has his left arm propped behind him, his shirt off, a pair of gray sweatpants on, and his right hand in his boxers. His long hair is pulled back into a bun and his beard is long from not shaving in weeks.

You turn your head to look at Bucky. You can see the small movements his hand is making. He’s jerking himself off but he doesn’t want to come just yet.

“Please Bucky, Stevie said I was being a good girl!” You beg.

Bucky tilts his head to the side as Steve continues to kiss your neck. “You haven’t proven anything yet, Doll,” Bucky smirks at you.

You continue to grind down on Steve’s dick, chasing your orgasm. You weren’t close by any means, but any movement would bring it closer.

“Doll, you look pathetic trying to get off on Stevie.” Bucky laughs at you.

You moan at his words and feel Steve get harder. You lift your arms and Steve lifts your shirt off. He continues to lift his hips to meet yours as he rips off your bra and looks at your breasts. Steve licks his lips before putting his mouth onto one of your tits. He lightly grazes your nipple with his teeth before licking it and then gently sucking. You moan and arch your back, pushing your breast further into Steve’s mouth.

“Please Stevie, please make me feel good!” You moan, sounding breathless.

“Be a good girl and I’ll let Stevie make you feel good,” Bucky tells you.

You look at him and see that he’s moving his hand faster, a sign that you were being a good girl. You continue to roll your hips onto Steve, allowing him to be the one in control. Steve switches breasts, making sure to give it the same treatment.

You feel the familiar knot in your stomach. You know you can’t let loose without Bucky’s approval or without Steve feeling equally as good.

“Stevie…. Bucky… I’m about to-!” You can’t let the words out, too focused on moaning.

Steve releases your breast from his mouth and turns to Bucky. “Should we let her?”

“Hmmm…. Do you think she’s been a good enough girl?” Bucky asks as he watches your hips move more erratically, trying to find some relief.

Steve lets out a moan as you rub him in the right spot. “Mmh… She’s been an angel Buck. Maybe after I’m done with her you can try her out.”

You moan at the sensation. The boys talking to each other like you weren’t there made you feel something. As well as his hard cock hitting your cunt in the most delicious way.

“Ok, you can let her come.” Bucky finally agrees, moving his hand at the same speed you’re thrusting your hips.

“Yes! Thank you, Bucky! Thank you!” You moan in excitement as Steve goes back to kissing your neck, this time massaging your tits with his hands.

The room is filled with your impatient moans, Steve’s heavy breathing, and Bucky jerking himself off. You start to feel your orgasm coming, the familiar pull exciting you.

“Stevie, I'm so close! Yes right there! Keep going! Yes!” You moan.

Finally, you snap. You feel your orgasm course through you, your toes curling with pleasure, and the most filthy moan escaping your lips. Steve and Bucky follow behind you, feeling the relief you feel.

“Come here Doll,” Bucky motions for you to come to him.

You obey him, leaving Steve to ride out his orgasm. You crawl to Bucky and let him help you straddle his lap. One thing about these super soldier men, they can go all night.

“Are you going to be a good girl again and let me claim the sweet pussy?” Bucky asks, cupping your cunt.

You push yourself down harder, wanting him to take you. “Yes, Sergeant.”

“Good girl.” Bucky lifts you and walks over to Steve who already has his boxers off. “Stevie, why don’t you help our girl?”

Bucky sets you down and makes you stand between Steve’s legs. Both men help you out of your jeans and underwear before Bucky makes you widen your stance, placing your hands on his chest. Then you feel it. Steve’s long and thick finger is stretching your hole. Slowly but surely he stretches you out, adding one finger after the other until you are prepped for his cock.

“She’s ready Buck,” Steve says from behind you. You turn to Bucky and see that he is naked now.

Bucky helps Steve get his thick cock in you, making sure that the two of you are comfortable. You moan as his throbbing tip is at your entrance, feeling how good Steve is stretching you. Bucky then pushes you back onto Steve before settling above you, thrusting into your pussy without any warning. You let out a loud yelp that is followed by a moan.

Both men slowly pull out until only their tips are inside of you. They thrust back in, their hips flushed against yours. They repeat their movements, changing their speeds. Bucky would go fast while Steve would go deliciously slow, and vice versa. You moan pornographically, their movements being everything you want.

“Look at her Stevie, she’s a slut!”

“Makes me wonder why we fuck her and not each other, we don’t do around acting like a porn star, right Buck?”

“Mhm, that’s right Stevie!” Bucky wraps his left arm around your neck and gives it a light squeeze.

“Yes! Please! Treat me like a slut!” You moan.

Bucky leaves his hand around your throat but doesn’t squeeze. He gently moves your neck to the side before leaning down to kiss Steve. Bucky forces his tongue down Steve’s throat and he hums in approval. You moan at the sight. The super soldiers thrusting into you, treating you like a toy, but being into each other.

Bucky gently squeezes your throat once more. “You like that slut? Do you like us treating you like you’re not even here? You like that we’re fucking you because no one else will ever be allowed to touch you?”

You nod your head quickly, your breaths coming faster. You start to feel your orgasm coming again. Hearing Bucky degrade you and the slapping of your skin against both men brings you closer to the edge.

“We’re going to fill her Stevie. We’re going to make sure that the slut knows she belongs to us and only us.”

They both start to go in sync, almost as if they practiced it. Like they knew you would be a goner. 

“Yes, Bucky! Yes Stevie! Yes! Yes! YES!” You start to moan louder and louder. “Please, I'm so close! Let me come! Please!”

 Steve starts to kiss your neck again, biting hard. You moan and Bucky silences you, his tongue pushing past your lips. You lean further into Bucky, tasting Steve on his lips. Bucky kisses you like he’s starving and you’re his next meal. Bucky leans back and grabs your chin with his left hand. He tilts your head back and makes your mouth stay open. He then spits into your mouth, ordering Steve to do the same. Both men spit in your mouth multiple times before Bucky forces you to close your jaw.

“Swallow and I’ll let you come.” You gladly drink their spit.

Bucky nods at Steve and her reaches between your bodies until he gets to your clit. He plays with your clit, making sure that you can only feel pleasure. You feel the pressure in the pit of your stomach build up. Your toes start to curl with anticipation. You can tell that both men are close as well, their thrusts turning sloppy.

“I’m going to come! You moan out.

Bucky and Steve thrust three more times before you unravel. You yell their names as you feel your orgasm wash over you. Both men stay in you and thrust until they come. Bucky and Steve come at the same time, Steve holding the back of Bucky’s neck to pull him for a kiss. They kiss until every last drop of their come is in you.

“You are a good girl.” Bucky praises you.

[neuvistar]

poly jingren x reader has been on my mind 4 so longgg.. ITS SO BADD. please give me more thirsts or thoughts abt poly!jingren x reader i’m lovin them rn | hint of fluff, mostly nsfw

short lil thirst ! jing yuan + blade x fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns), big dick jing yuan + blade foreal, reader implied 2 be shorter in height, degrading terms (whore, slut, etc), mentions of squirting, mating press + full nelson, SIZE KINK!! SIZE KINK!!, blade’s a lil mean but it’s ok bc it’s blade!, cum cum lots of cum (sounds funny but it’s okay </3) | overall suggestive content minors do not interact

poly!jingren who would have different tolerance of your brattiness. jing yuan having the highest patience for u n blade having the least! you always run to jing yuan whenever blade talks abt punishing u n he thinks it’s soso cute :(( he’s always protecting you, nuzzling against his chest with your arms wrapped around his huge body, ur so cute! a darling you are..

jing yuan always tried dodging the idea of you wearing short skirts in public, why? you would make his dick hard, easy. but, you decided it was a good idea to wear the shortest skirt known 2 mankind one day, paying him a visit at his office. imagine this, jing yuan would be at his office doing work at his desk n all of the sudden you walk in looking all slutty, a short skirt that just barely covers your plushy thighs and ass, he would brush it off at first up until you purposely drop the pen on his desk bending down to pick it up. once you stood up, you would already be bent over his desk. that’s what you wanted, after all. “are you trying to tempt me, dove? because it sure is working.” jing yuan has zero patience whenever you’re acting like a whore in public, he would plant kisses all over your back and pound into you like there’s no tomorrow, his big dick stretching you out :(( choked moans would leave your throat, rambling on about how rough he was being with you, and that people might hear you and walk in, but he didn’t care, infact that was the last of his worries. he savoured the feeling of your tight walls pulsing around his cock, cumming inside and cumming on your panties too! i hope u’ll enjoy the stickiness between your thighs <3 (he’ll snitch to blade too abt it, what a bitch)

poly!jingren would be protective over you, even though they’re a pain to be with sometimes due to their constant arguments and disagreements, dating them does have its benefits. they would stand on either side of you, one on your left and one on your right. geez, you look so cute compared to them, it’s like you were walking around with two dogs on your leash, reading to pounce at anyone who dares speak ill of you or touches you. speaking of size.. i feel like they’d both have a size kink, you’re just so short compared to them they can’t help but fantasize about bending you over and fucking you in different positions, i feel like they both each have their favourites on that.

jing yuan loves putting you in a mating press, he likes it becuz it makes him cum quicker! not even a few thrusts and he’s already cumming inside, loving how you squirt all over his cock. he would press your knees against your chest, folding you in half almost. he would gently draw circles on your knee while the tip of his dick kisses your cervix, he’s so sweet to you though.. whispering praises in your ear. he would catch you off guard sometimes due to how sweet he was with you, not noticing how much he came, staring down at the mess he made in your cunt w cum seeping out </3

blade would absolutely love folding you in a full nelson, bro has sm strength it scares you sometimes. he would hook his arms under your knees, thrusting his hips into you. “sucha’ whore for my cock, aren’t you? you like it when i fuck you hard like this, don’t you?” mmm also also maybe if he’s feeling it, i bet bro would let jing yuan would join too, but he wouldn’t impale you with his dick like blade is, no.. he would rub his cock against your slit, placing kisses on your legs. honestly, jing yuan is your saviour atp. cuz everytime blade folds you in a full nelson, he’s always concerned that he’ll break you, so he tries telling him to ease it up a bit with you <3

poly!jingren would have god like stamina and strength, great speed n strength comes w great consequences! whether it is in a non sexual way or not, i feel like their stamina n strength would be useful in your relationship, its a lil cute since ur kinda shorter in height n they would always tower over u n help i get things from the high shelf or cabinet, it’s so cute! <33 but yet.. it’s a lil scary in bed cuz they can last so long w u and fuck you until you forget your own name, but it’ll be fine!! you can handle them!

poly!jingren both probably didn’t realize they had a size kink until they got intimate with you, it was probably the last of their worries up until one night. blade would probably notice a cute little bump on your stomach, noticing just how small you rlly are compared to them, jing yuan would too! honestly they both just love how their huge cocks slide in and out of your pussy, the bulge on your stomach going down, up, down up, over and over again! you’re just so.. cute they can’t help but stretch your little pussy out a bit.

“cmon sweetheart, you got this. you’re so cute, mhm.. you can handle more right?“

“sure she can, she’s strong girl. if shes— mmp.. squeezing around us like that, i’m sure she can handle more.”

“mm.. mhm. i can see that.” jing yuan leaned down, bringing his voice down to a whisper, “do you like it when we stretch you out with our cocks like this, baby?”

“fuck yeah she does, look at her. she’s creaming on our cocks already. s’ messy.”

poly!jingren who would both try their best to be gentle to you, sometimes it backfires but you don’t seem to mind! what’s very true about them is they both don’t want to hurt you in anyway, sure they fuck you hard enough and punish you but their intentions r never to hurt u, they would always ask you if you’re okay, even if they see the slightest hint of discomfort or pain in your face. especially jing yuan, he’s rlly rlly sweet n same goes to blade but he shows it in his own way. u know that blade doesn’t mean half of the things he says (he knows ur a slut for their cock tho but that’s besides the point) n sometimes he can get carried away but he would apologize with a simple “sorry.” and ask you if he was too rough on you, both r sweethearts yk

[luveline]

oooh! just had an idea!!! bombshell reader x spencer where he comes over to her apartment one day on the weekend to suprise her with breakfast/flowers bc they just started dating. however, bombshell is in sweats/no makeup/messy hair when she answers but when she sees its spencer, she FLIPS out/slams the door bc she doesnt want him to see her in that state. spencer, however, is confused ofc because he genuinely doesnt notice her outfit/lack of makeup and thinks she is gorgeous no matter what.

hope this is ok ♡ fem, 1.1k

The song starts slow and ends slower. You could picture Spencer listening to it, his head on your shoulder or yours on his, wired earphones shared between you. 

You grab a pencil to jot a quick post-it note so you'll remember, one knee on your desk chair. You don't want to sit down with the shower running in case you get distracted by your new photo frame.

You and Spencer took a photo to commemorate finally getting together. Or rather, Hotch did, standing behind the camera with an impossible mixture of fondness and disapproval. You look like a true couple with matching graphic t-shirts and beaming smiles, Spencer's arm over your shoulders and yours behind his back. You can't see it without staring; you use all your strength to ignore the photo, pulling your post-it from its pad and tacking the yellow square to your vanity. Tell Spencer about love song from Ocean Boulavard. 

The door to your apartment rings with a knock. If you weren't distracted in your losing don't-think-about-Spencer battle, you'd recognise the timid pattern of it. 

You've been expecting a parcel all weekend. 

"Coming!" you call, tugging a sweater over your vest top, plaid pyjama pants dragging against the floor as you make your way out of your bedroom and into the main living area. "Two seconds!" 

You give yourself a precursory glance in the mirror next to the door before you answer it. You'd never go out like this, but the delivery driver won't see you long. You're mostly clean and fully dressed, though your socks don't match. 

That's another thing to tell Spencer. He must be rubbing off on you. 

"Hello," you say cheerily, pulling the door open with a smile. 

"Hi," Spencer says, big brown eyes aglow at the sight of you, his hands full to bursting. There are enough things in his hands to hide his chest completely. 

You don't have a chance to decipher exactly what he's brought as you flinch behind the cover of the door, not cruel enough to close it in his face, but wanting to. "Spencer! What are you doing here?" 

"Well, you live here." 

His hand comes up tentatively near yours on the door. He doesn't push it further in or attempt to come inside. He might have, if you hadn't squeaked in warning, biting down on the soft inside of your cheek. 

"Is everything okay?" he asks.

"Everything is fine!" You squeeze your eyes closed, your pulse a hummingbird hammering between them. 

"Really?" Spencer asks, taking back his hand. "Can I–"

There's a shuffling sound like he might step forward, and that's the last straw, you're fully panicking as you slam it closed.

A too long silence. Your breath comes unnaturally quickly, your thoughts racing to match. I can't believe I just did that. Why did I do that? 

What do I do? 

"Spencer, I'm naked," you say. 

"You were definitely wearing clothes. What's wrong? I brought breakfast, I thought I'd surprise you. I texted you. When you didn't answer I figured maybe you were still sleeping after last night, but… now I'm thinking maybe I read that wrong."

"You didn't read it wrong! You can always come over!" you insist, looking around behind you as if you might suddenly find a full face of makeup hiding in your sideboard, or a fresh change of clothes hanging on the coat hooks. 

"Okay, so, can I come in?" 

You poke at the sore bit of skin in your cheek with a wince. "Spence, I'm not dressed. Like, I'm not ready. I look like a mess." 

"You looked beautiful. For the two seconds that I could see your face, at least." You breathe in uselessly. An answer doesn't present itself. Spencer offers some wisdom while you panic, but you aren't sure you want to hear it. "We're dating, right? So as much as you clearly don't want me to see you like this, it's gonna happen. Hopefully regularly?" He laughs lightly on the other side of the door. "Can I please come in?" 

Nerves gnaw at your fingers, uncomfortable pins and needles. "What if you don't like it as much?" you ask quietly. You're surprised he can hear you. 

"Do you trust me?"

What sort of question is that? This isn't about trust. This is about you, an image of yourself you hold and that you want others to share, it's why you dress as you do, why you wear your intricate hairstyles, and spend hours upon hours priming and primping.

You want to be pretty deeply, especially in Spencer's eyes. Do you trust him to find you pretty still, without all the extra effort? Pretty from the moment you wake up? 

You wait for the verdict as you open the door again. The handle clicks and lugs, the hinge whining as it swings inward. You step backward to allow him space, meeting Spencer's eyes with an insecurity that doesn't suit you.

He doesn't react at first. His hand tightens around the neck of a sprawling bouquet, wildflowers like a burst of colour against his chest, the long white body of a lily of the valley kissing the curve of his neck. He smells like powdered sugar donuts and the food truck they came from, the story of his obsession a remembered delight. I think of you every time I cross the square to the train station by my place. The warm vanilla smell reminds me of your perfume. But I'm usually already thinking of you. He's been bringing you donuts intermittently for months now. 

He finally smiles at you, all manner of morning warmth flooding the room with him. The sun at his heels, the silky brown colour of his hair, you look up as he steps close, as light silhouettes him, turns the silk to fluff. You can see every detail this close down to the baby flyaways, and he can see the same. 

"How could you think I wouldn't like this?" he asks. His words are hushed with earnestness but yards from hesitant. Spencer is unabashedly, genuinely enamoured with you. "You're so pretty. You always are." 

You beg him silently to hold your face, taking the flowers from his hand. He can read you from that small action alone, raising a deft hand to your cheek. 

You lean into his palm. 

[asmutwriter]

American Beauty/American Psycho (Part 1)

DESCRIPTION: You are an introverted woman. Working at a local book shop, keeping to yourself, not really on any social media. However, one small act of kindness makes you appear on the radar of a very specific superhero.

A/N: I didn't know what title to call this story, I had 'devil' and 'angel' playing on my mind. But then I was listening to Fall Out Boy and 'American Beauty/American Psycho' came on and I thought it was perfect for this story. So it is very, very loosely based off of that song

WORD COUNT: 2292

Next / Master List

WARNINGS: swearing, fire, burning house

DISCLAIMERS

-  This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

You run a finger through your hair. Letting out a sigh as you look at the pile of books before you. The small library you work in had closed for the night. You had the job of putting back all the forgotten books into their rightful place. Taking out all the different genres, placing them into their corresponding piles. Going to each shelf and placing them alphabetically in their correct places. You take a step back. Nodding at your work as you move onto the next section. Doing this for each of the small piles you'd managed to accumulate.

Once you had done this you make your way down the isles. Making sure there aren't any late night readers or sleeping students inside before you lock up. Thankfully there were none. So you head outside. Pulling the door too before locking it. Jiggling the handle to check it was locked. Placing the keys into your jeans pocket as you make your way through the chilled night air. Wrapping your arms around yourself. It was early autumn so you hadn't quite gotten used to the warm days yet chilled nights. Not having dressed appropriately for it. Only a thin hoodie keeping you warm.

Your nose catches scent of something. Causing you to stop in your tracks. You look around. Listening. Trying to see anything. Then you spot it. A blazing building. "Fuck". You mutter. Running over as you watch the building going up. Before you can think about anything else you hear a piercing scream through the night. Running over as you see someone by a downstairs window. A young boy, his fingers scrambling at the frame. Retracting his hands at the heat. You motion at him. Yelling through the night. "Stand back". Going into your pocket and taking out a pen. He stands back a little way. You wrap your fist around the item. Smashing it into the glass. Shattering. Reaching inside you pull him out. Holding him as he coughs. Moving him a safe distance away.

"My mum. Shes in the house. Plus my sister". You look back. A loud crack. You turn back to the boy.

"Do you know what floor they are on?"

"Top floor. I think the top floor". You nod. Hands on his shoulders as you keep his gaze.

"Stay here". You run back over. "Fuck". You mutter. Going in through the open window. "Hello!" you call out. No answer. You go to the door to the rest of the house. Pulling your hoodie sleeve up over your hand as you open the door handle. Feeling the heat grow intensely around you as you enter what looks like a living room. A body lies on the floor. Going over to it. You crouch down. Checking for a pulse. Nodding to yourself as you feel the slight beat of her heart. You grab her arm. Pulling her up as you sling her over your shoulder. Going back to through the house to the open window.

You aren't sure how but you manage to get the woman out of the window you entered through. Contorting yourself with her still over your shoulder. Going over to the boy as he watches. Tears staining his cheeks. "Mum!" he sobs. You lie her on the floor. You place your head near her chest. Hearing a soft yet distinct heart beat. The boy kneels down. Taking her hand in his.

"Stay here with your mum". You stand up. Rushing back over to the building. Climbing through the window as you are met with a monstrous fire. The room you were just in now fully engulfed in flames. Lapping at the sofas in the living room. You spot the stairs. Making a bee line for them as you dart up them. Hearing the sound of them slowly burning away as you go up. Three closed doors.

You stay silent. Hearing the crack of the fire below you. The distant sound of a toddler crying. You dart to the door the noise is behind. Opening it you see a very young child crying. Hands on the edge of her crib as she looks at you. You go over to the bed. "Shh" you try to soothe her. Picking her up and holding her close to you. "Its ok. You're ok". You go to the door again. Going to walk down the hallway. Seeing the fire now licking up the stairs. Destroying your only exit. You cradle her close to you as you go back into the bedroom. Shutting the door behind you. Grabbing a blanket form the side and placing it under the door. Trying to prevent the smoke from coming through.

The child still cries as you hold her close to you. Trying to soothe her as you turn around. Just as you hear a loud cracking noise. The middle of the floor starts to cave into the fire below it. Not daring to move, scared the floor will give out completely. You stay close to the wall. Pressing yourself a flat against it as you can. Among the crackle of the flames you hear voices. Firemen must've arrived. You call out. Your voice dull against the noise of the fire, and the slowly falling floor.

"Help. Please help". You call out. A soft sob coming through your voice. The door opens. You look. Expecting to see men in yellow enter. Instead, seeing a blue suit. Being met with his equally blue eyes. You'd seen him on billboards and newspapers. Homelander. He goes to walk into the room. "No!" you almost yell. Hand going outwards. Motioning at the floor.

He stills. Looking at you. Then the floor. Analyzing the situation before his gaze going back up to you. He outstretches one of his hands. You go to move towards him. The all to familiar sound of the fire making you still in your movements. You shake your head. Causing him to take a step closer to you. You move the child. Handing her to him.

"Get her out please". He looks at you. Going to say something but you move the girl closer. "Take the damn child!" you say. Fear in your voice as it fills the room. He takes her from your hands. Holding her close as he looks behind him. Then at the floor in front of him. Obviously assessing his best way out where the girl is unharmed. You watch as he looks at the ceiling. His eyes lasering a hole into it. He flies the girl out. You let out a breath. Glad the young child is safe.

The floor jolts slightly. The suddenness making you take it a sharp breath. Shutting your eyes as you press further into the wall. Your heartbeat echoing in your ears. Making you unable to hear anything else around you. The crack happens beneath you again. You fight back the tears. Pushing your lips together.

You jump as you feel something touch your arm. Eyes flying open as you meet Homelanders gaze. His hand on your upper arm. "Wrap your arms around me". You try to move. Lifting your arm up just as another creak fills the room. Your arms going firmly back to the wall. Shaking your head as you look at him

"I-I cant" you whisper. The floor cracks again.

"Yes you can". You shake your head. Shutting your eyes again. Feeling the floor start to shift under your feet. A soft whimper escaping your lips. "I'll catch you". You look at him. Wide eyed. The terror evident in your features. "Trust me". You watch his eyes. His still. Calming against yours. Slowly lifting your arms up. Trying to ignore the fire slowly eating its way through the floor. He puts an arm around your waist. You gently put your arms around his neck. Just as the floor falls out from under you. Your soft grip on him changes as you cling to him. Hiding your face into his shoulder as the comforting feeling of floor gets whisked away from under your feet. He remains hovering. The warmth of fire licking at your feet as he flies up. Away from the heat.

Your mind to overwhelmed by everything, plus hiding into his shoulder. You don't take in the fact he's taking you out of the previously made hole in the ceiling. Flying both of you out safely. Your legs nearly give out from under you as they hit the soft ground. Your arms still clinging to him as you tilt your head slightly. Looking at the paramedics tending to the unconscious girl on the ground. He gently rubs the lower of your back. "I'm going to need my neck back". He whispers into your ear.

"Shit. Sorry" you unwrap your arms. Going to move away from him. Wobbling slightly on your feet. Your arms coming out to balance yourself. He brings his hand out. Stabilising you by holding your arm. He tilts his head down. Looking at you through his lashes. Swaying slightly as you regain your composure. You look over at the woman on the floor. Her son sat next to her as their young daughter gets checked over by a paramedic. "Is she ok? Will she be ok?". You look at the blue eyed hero. Eyes tiredly scanning his face.

"They are doing everything they can do make sure she lives". You look back at the woman. Thats when you notice the small group of people. Neighbours all wrapped in coats and dressing gowns as they watch the scene before them. Some with their phones out. Recording the situation. Recording the fire. Recording Homelander. Recording you.

A paramedic comes over to you. You watch as his lips move. Obviously speaking to you but your overwhelmed senses don't take in what he says. You shake your head at his words. "I need to go home" you whisper. Looking at the crowd of people.

"Miss we need to make sure that you're ok".

"I'm ok". You smile at the paramedic. Homelander watching you as he keeps his grip on your elbow. "I promise I'm ok".

"Why don't we get you checked out, hmm?" Homelander says. You look at him. A smile on his face. You shake your head.

"I don't want to be a hassle. You've got the woman and her children to prioritise over me".

"You are just as much my concern as they are. Please miss" the paramedic says. Smiling at you as he takes the arm that was being supported. Taking you over to an ambulance. Checking you over. Once hes confirmed that everything is ok with you, he gives you the all clear to go home. Saying that they can organise transport but you insist on walking. You turn to try and find Homelander. Wanting to thank him for saving your life. But you see him talking to a news reporter. You press your lips together. Turning on your heels as you make your way back to your home.

You open the front door. Having a quick shower, changing into your pyjamas, then getting into your bed. Trying to fight the pesky nightmares. It isn't much after 8am when you hear your bedroom door burst open. Your curtains being forced back. You let out an annoyed groan. Bringing the covers up and over your head. Your roommate comes over to you. Grabbing the covers and pulling them down.

"Your famous!" she says. You sit up. Blinking your eyes awake as you look at her. She hands you her phone. A video pops up. The reporter from yesterday on the screen.

"A mother and her two children were saved last night from a house fire believed to have started from a cigarette butt. Thankfully no one was hurt, and we can put it down to this anonymous hero who risked her own life to save these three souls. A neighbour recorded the incident - describing it as a miracle and heroic act"

The video cuts to you. Helping the boy out before going inside the building. A few minutes passing, worried voices filling the background before you appear. Carrying the mother out the window. It cuts back to the reporter.

"Although Homelander himself managed to make it to the scene, firefighters and paramedics have both said that if this woman hadn't stepped in when she had then the family of three would have likely all been killed. Just goes to show the world that you don't need powers to be a true hero". You turn the screen off. Looking at your roommate.

"Fuck". You say. You pull the covers off of your legs. Going out into the kitchen. She follows behind as you grab out the orange juice. Filling a glass.

"Did you actually get to meet Homelander?". You place the orange juice back into fridge. Nodding.

"He saved my life".

"Thats so awesome". You scoff. Drinking your juice.

"I wouldn't describe nearly dying as awesome, but I understand what you mean". Placing the cup into the sink. You run a hand through your hair. Lightly massaging your scalp before bringing them down. "I'm going to head to work"

"You nearly died last night". You go over to the bathroom. Picking out your toothbrush. Applying some toothpaste.

"I am aware". You start brushing your teeth.

"And you're going to work?". You nod. Spitting and rinsing out your mouth with some water before looking at her. Drying your hands on a towel.

"Bills aren't going to pay themselves". Lightly tapping her nose. "I'll pick up a Chinese on the way home". You smile at her. Hand motion for her to leave the bathroom. She takes a step out. She goes to say something as you shut the door on her.

Next

[kay-jaye]

bit on the side?

bit on the side?

crowley doesn’t know what the fuck that even means. ok, yes, he’s familiar with the deluge of terms humans have concocted to define the complexity of their relations to each other.

side piece. sneaky link. friends with benefits. fuck buddies. situationship.

crowley knows what it means. he does. but when nina speaks the phrase to him, crowley can’t seem to recognize a single language, alive or otherwise dead, in which the words she says make sense. he briefly wonders if this is his version of aziraphale’s french.

because she’s talking about aziraphale.

aziraphale, the angel. the angel who likes his tea without sugar, but his wine with company. the angel who claims to have a distaste for “bebop,” yet crowley has caught him mouthing the words to queen’s “good old-fashioned lover boy” more than once in the bentley. the angel (bastard) who enjoys subjecting crowley to his magic act antics that under no circumstances would crowley ever admit to finding amusing or, satan forbid, endearing. the angel who popped into paris during the reign of terror because he got peckish for crepes, and even the threat of guillotine in that damp bastille cell could not deter him from baked goods in the end. the angel who still insists on dragging crowley to see productions of shakespeare, despite both being present for the original opening nights of almost every play the man wrote. the angel who is what heaven is supposed to be incarnate—pure and kind and too good for his own good, really.

and crowley is a demon.

he doesn’t think any of the typical labels apply. they’re not human, after all; it couldn’t be that simple. crowley can’t pinpoint exactly when it started or when it changed. 6,000 years is a long history to comb through. it was more than the acquiescence of two immortal beings to the familiarity of each other in a world full of temporary creations. it was more than a bloody arrangement at this point. crowley doesn’t know how it can be more than whatever it means to inhabit the other’s body and walk right into fatal danger, but they are. he’s inclined to cut his losses and say he knew—because deep down, he did know—he’s been fucked since eden and the damn wall and the damn rain he can’t help but associate with revelation.

other people’s love lives, nina had said. love lives. she’s projecting, crowley knows that. whatever’s going on with her and…lydia? linda? they say love makes you blind, but crowley would argue you see plenty of things. every passing glance between sips of champagne; every smile at the crisp sarcasm rolling off a forked tongue; every brush of fingers over the exchange of a briefcase full of books, the shaky grip on a tartan thermos, the drunken grab for another glass of wine across the table. silly things. things that aren’t there. for all the times aziraphale has implored him to read more, crowley swallows the urge to say he already reads into things more than he should.

he’s imagined it before; what it would be like to have more. a fair share of people have made assumptions about them in the past, though he’s not sure whether aziraphale has picked up on it, but that’s not why crowley suddenly feels as though armageddon is upon them once again. never has someone alluded to anything as…intimate as “hooking up.” crowley can brush away the implication that they’re together, but something screeches to a burning halt the moment nina insinuates what crowley’s only ever allowed himself to think about when he’s laudanum-level drunk and lonely because he has a greater chance of not remembering in the morning.

he remembers though. that’s usually when the guilt kicks in, when he’s hungover because he forgot to miracle the alcohol out of his system before passing out, and the headache pulses with the constant reminder that aziraphale is pure, pure, PURE. nothing he imagines on those nights is pure.

what gave him away? and if nina can see it, can aziraphale?

[hurthermore]

Could you write something quick for Your Alastor x reader where she’s ovulating! (Horny week ;)) he asks her what she wants to eat as he’s making dinner and she’s like you while palming his crotch?? PLS IM ON MY PERIOD AND ITS KILLING ME

YES OK OK SEXUAL CONTENT BELOW

"What would you like for dinner, my darling wife?" Alastor had asked you after wrapping his apron around his waist, fully intending to make you anything you desired; just as he did every night.

He was a man of passion, one that craved to show you how dearly you meant to him, and the act of cooking was one of the many ways he exhibited that.

It was such an attractive trait, one that had you swooning over your husband more and more as ever day passed. But as you contemplated his question, you couldn't help how your cunt pulsed in want as you thought of having your husband for dinner; not in a cannibalistic sense, but in a sexual one.

Walking behind him ever so slowly, you pressed your chest against his back before etching your hand against his clothed, soft cock that began twitching in want as your mere touch doused him. "I want you." You had moaned against him as you continued to massage your palm against his pelvis.

You could hear him panting as you touched him, and as you looked up, you witnessed the hinges of his jaw tensing ever so slightly as his hands grasped the rim of the counter side.

“Will you let me, my handsome husband? Will you let me eat you?” You had asked as your hand snaked under the belt that held his trousers up. Slipping your hand underneath his clothes before your fingers grasped round the hardening fat cock that was yours and yours alone.

“Fuck, yes.” He had groaned in that seductive voice that you loved oh so much; the same voice that sent trembling shivers down your spine and tickled your core.

Quickly, your husband unclasped his belt before helping you remove his heavy sex from the confines of his clothes. You could feel his cock spring out as you had turned him around to face you all too quickly before falling on kneecaps in front of him.

His expression was filled with want and lust as he looked down at you, his darling wife, his hand resting against the crown of your scalp before you had moved his apron to the side; only to caress his cock against the side of your face, your lips ever so slightly swiping against his length.

Groaning, Alastors eyes stayed fixated on you, watching intently as your tongue licked along the entirety of his length. He always tasted so good, and you couldn’t help but moan as the taste of his salted cock sunk into your taste buds.

It didn’t take long for your husband to thread his fingers through your hair before guiding you to take his cock in your warm and wet mouth; something your desired more than anything in that moment.

He had forced you to choke on him as he guided your head back and forth against him, forced his cock to slam against the back of your throat before ultimately splattering your oesophagus with his salty cum.

Alastor, your husband, would always be your favourite meal.

[requiemforthepoets]

this is me trying 𖦹 OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: growing up, the only thing you know is that you need to be strong, provide, and take care of your sister. but being with oscar, it was different, he made you feel things—that it’s okay to not be fine, vulnerable, and to be taken care of.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have this fic finished the other day but i was debating on whether to post it or not, but here we are. it’s been a while too since i last wrote for oscar, and this is like a comfort (?) fic idk lol. also, can i just say that LANDO ON POLE FOR THE SG GP!!! 😭🧡 ok, i hope you guys will have fun reading this one. enjoy! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, eldest daughter syndrome, no use of y/n, cursing, unnamed sister, named friend, and parents death

You were sitting in the living room, surrounded by case files and legal books, trying your best to prepare for the court trial that you’ll be doing soon, but your mind was elsewhere. You can't focus on the work that you’re working on in front of you, no matter how hard you try. Your phone buzzed, and you almost didn’t answer, thinking it’s just another work call, but when you saw Blaire, your friend’s name, flash on the screen you quickly picked up, expecting a casual chat.

“Hey, Blaire, how are you?” You greeted her, trying to mask your exhaustion.

Her voice on the other end was hesitant, not the usual warm tone that you’re used to. “Hey…I really hate to bring this up, but I was wondering when you would be able to repay the five thousand dollars?”

Your stomach dropped. “Repay?” You repeated, utterly confused. “What do you mean five thousand dollars?”

The conversation between you and Blaire unraveled quickly. She explained how she had lent the money to your sister out of need, thinking it was for you or with your approval. Rage bubbled in your chest, your pulse quickened, at this point all you can see is red. You thanked her hastily, barely able to end the call before fury overtook you. Without thinking, you dialed your sister’s number, the beeps echoing in your ear like a countdown to an explosion.

“Hello?” Her voice was casual, completely unaware of the storm coming her way.

“What the actual fuck did you do?!” You yelled, not caring if it was late at night. “You borrowed five fucking thousand dollars from Blaire without asking me!? How could you?!”

There was a pause, a brief moment where you could almost feel her shrug through the phone. “Oh my god, can you relax? It’s not like you can't afford it. It’s not that big of a deal, you can just easily pay for it with how big you’re making, it’s barely a scratch on your bank account!” You couldn’t believe what you were actually hearing.

“Not a big deal? Did you spend the money already? Do you have any fucking idea how humiliating it is for me that you did this without even consulting me? You think just because I make good money, I’ll fix every mess you create?” You were seething.

“Well, yeah,” she responded with a laugh, clearly not grasping the gravity of the situation. “You’re my older sister. Isn’t it your job to take care of me, right?”

Your grip on your phone tightened. “I’ve been taking care of you your whole life! I’m working myself to the bone just to make sure you have everything you need, sending you to that fancy school that you’ve always wanted so you can have a better future, and this is how you repay me? By lying and stealing?”

The silence on the other end of the line felt heavy, but your anger has not subsided. She mumbled something that sounded like a half assed apology, but it was already too late for that. You immediately hung up and slammed the phone down on the table, heart racing, pulse pounding in your ears. Anger still swirling inside you like a storm, the words of your sister still echoing in your mind. You can just easily pay for it with how big you’re making. Her carelessness, lack of respect—it hit harder than anything you had experienced before. It wasn’t about the money, you could handle the five thousand dollars easily, but the way she completely dismissed your hard work, as if it was nothing, as if your sacrifice and years of struggle meant nothing—that was what burned deep. It hurts like fucking hell.

You sat down there on the couch, trying to calm yourself down, tears started to prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back. You didn’t cry. You cannot cry. You have always been strong your whole life—the provider, carer, and protector. That’s who you were. No one had ever taken care of you, not since your parents passed away when you were fifteen and your sister is only ten. It has always been you, alone, against the world, and now, it felt like even your sister was against you.

You didn’t hear Oscar enter the living room until his voice, soft but firm, broke through the silence. “Hey, I heard you from our room. Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard, your body automatically stiffening instinctively and continued browsing through your documents like nothing happened.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry,” you lied, though the quiver in your voice betrayed you.

Oscar walked over and sat down beside you on the couch, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. “You don’t always have to be fine,” he said quietly. “Tell me, what happened?”

You exhaled sharply, your hands trembling as you ran them through your hair. “It’s my sister,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. “She borrowed money from Blaire. Five thousand dollars. Without even telling me. Now, she’s acting like it’s my job to fix it.”

“Five thousand? That’s a lot.” Oscar frowned, his brows knitting in concern.

“I know,” you said, “she doesn’t even care. She just assumes I’ll take care of it, like I always do every time she gets into stupid situations. She thinks just because I earn good money, I’m supposed to fix everything.” Your voice cracked, and before you could stop it, the tears you had been holding back for so long finally broke free. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Oscar. I’m always the one fixing things, I’m always the one who has to be strong.”

Oscar didn’t say anything for a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes filled with understanding. Then, without a word, he pulled you into his arms. You tensed at first, still not used to being vulnerable, but Oscar’s embrace was warm, grounding. Slowly, your body relaxed into his, and the weight of the world seemed to lift just a little as you rested your head against his chest.

“It’s not fair,” you whispered to him. “I’ve always had to be the strong one. I’m tired, Oscar. I’m so fucking tired. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

His hand gently stroked your back, his voice soft and reassuring. “I know. It’s okay to be tired. You don’t have to be strong all the time. Not with me.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him, your eyes searching his face, “I just don’t know how to let anyone help me,” you admitted, voice barely audible. “I’ve been doing this for so long, I don’t know how to not be the one in control.”

“I get that. But you don’t have to do it all alone anymore. I’m here. Let me be strong for you, too.” Oscar smiled gently, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The idea of letting someone else carry even a fraction of the weight feels completely foreign to you. But as you looked at Oscar, his eyes full of sincerity, something inside you shifted. Maybe, it’s time you let it all fall down, you didn’t have to carry everything on your shoulders all the time.

“What am I supposed to do about her?” You asked, your voice small but steady now.

Oscar sighed softly, thinking for a moment. “You have all the right to be angry and upset. Your feelings are valid,” he said. “She needs to learn that actions have consequences. But at the same time, she’s your sister. She’s young, and sometimes young people tend to make mistakes. You’ve been doing everything for so long that she probably hasn’t learned how to take responsibility for herself yet.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes. “Yeah, maybe. But I can’t just let her think she can keep doing this.”

“No,” he agreed. “But you also don’t have to do this alone. We can figure it out together.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you weren’t alone. Maybe you didn’t always have to be the strong one, the provider, the protector. With Oscar by your side, you could learn how to let someone else carry the weight with you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, leaning into him once more. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Oscar smiled, pressing a soft tender kiss to your forehead. “You’ll never have to find out, I’m not going anywhere, my love.”

The next morning, you stared at the screen of your laptop, fingers moving quickly over the keys as you finished drafting the contract. The legal jargon was familiar, comforting even, but the fact that you had to use it against your own sister left a bitter taste in your mouth. The contract was firm, direct, and laid out the consequences clearly: five thousand dollars, to be repaid in installments, with interest and penalties if the deadline is missed. You hated doing it—your heart never felt so heavy—but you knew it was necessary. You had been too lenient for far too long, if she didn’t learn this now, she might never understand the true value of money and the responsibility that came with it. It was time for her to learn the hard truths you had known your entire life.

Oscar was sitting across the table, sipping his coffee, watching you in silence. “You’ve finished it?” He asked gently. You had told him last night that you need to straighten everything out, and told him your plan, in which he quickly supported you.

You nodded, eyes scanning the contract one last time before saving it. “Yeah. She’s not going to like it, but this has to be done.” You sighed, “I’ve been too lenient, too forgiving. I can’t keep cleaning up after her messes.”

“You’re doing the right thing.” He said as he reached over, placing his hand over yours. “It’s tough, but you’re teaching her a lesson she won’t forget.”

“I hope so,” you sighed, glancing out the window, the weight of responsibility pressing down on you once more. “I’ve never been one to ask for anything back, but she needs to learn that she can’t just treat me like this. I want her to be successful, but she can’t rely on me forever.”

Later that day, you booked a flight for her to Monaco, and notified her about the flight schedule. She was studying in Switzerland, and it would be a four hour flight from Switzerland to Monaco. It was time to have this conversation face-to-face. You couldn’t keep allowing her to avoid responsibility just because you were miles apart. This is a conversation that is long overdue.

A couple of days later, she arrived at your and Oscar’s shared apartment. She seemed different—more subdued, perhaps. You could tell the weight of your anger still lingered in her mind. She greeted you cautiously, her eyes flickering to Oscar, who stood nearby, his presence calm but protective.

“Sit down,” you said, pointing to the couch.

She looked at you, clearly trying to gauge your mood, but she did as she was told. You sat across from her, with Oscar by your side, and the freshly printed contract lying on the table between you. The tension in the living room was thick.

“I had already settled your debt with Blaire,” you began, your voice calm but firm. “But this conversation is not just about the money. It’s about respect, about responsibility.”

“I said I was sorry.” She crossed her arms, trying to play it cool.

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” you snapped, your patience was already running thin, barely hanging on by a thread. “I have been providing for you because I want nothing but the best for you. But what you did was careless, and you disrespected everything I’ve done for you. You didn’t even ask me before borrowing that money, and then you just blatantly assumed I would handle it. You do this every time to me, you always get me into awkward and humiliating situations.”

She bit her lip, her attitude wavering. “I know, but you make so much—”

“That’s not the point!” You cut her off, about to lose your cool but Oscar had managed to calm you down by softly caressing your back. “Yes, I make good amount of money, but that money just doesn’t magically appear. I have worked hard, harder than you can imagine, to get to where I am. Do you want to know what’s worse? What’s worse is that you’re not even thinking about how hard it is to earn that money, how I burn myself off everyday. So I’m making you earn it back.” You slid the contract towards her.

“What’s this?” She looked down at it, then back at you, looking all confused.

“It’s an agreement,” you said. “I’ve decided to give you the five thousand dollars. Consider what you bought from that money as a gift, because I know you’ve been doing well in school, and it’s been a while since I’ve given you anything. But this will never happen again. You owe me that money, and you're going to pay it back. Every cent of it, with interest.” Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to protest, but you cut her off before she could even speak.

“This is not negotiable. I’m still going to support you, I’m still going to pay for your tuition, but you need to learn how hard it is to earn this kind of money. You’re going to work for it, and I'll expect proof—payslips, records—everything. If you miss a payment, there will be penalties added, and if you refuse or try to make a fool out of me, I’m not afraid to take legal action.”

“You’d sue me? Your own sister?” She stared at you in disbelief.

“Yes, I would,” you said coldly. “I don’t want to, but you’ve left me with no choice. You are already eighteen and will turn nineteen in two months, you are already capable of knowing what’s right and wrong. You need to understand that I’m not going to bail you out every time you mess up, this is your responsibility now.”

For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. Her face was a mix of shock and anger, but you could tell the gravity of the situation was already starting to sink in.

“I’m not trying to be harsh,” you said softly, leaning forward. “But I’ve been in your shoes, and I know firsthand how hard life can be. I have shielded you from that, and maybe that was my mistake. But if you’re going to succeed in this world, you need to understand that nothing is free, nothing in life is free. Everything comes with a cost.”

Oscar then leaned forward, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “Look, we’re not doing this to hurt you,” he added, tone gentle but firm. “But this is a wake-up call. You need to understand how your sister has worked so hard, and how important it is that you start contributing. No one’s saying you have to do it alone, but you have to start doing something.”

Your sister’s eyes shifted between the two of you, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of guilt in her expression. She glanced back down at the contract, and you handed her a pen.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll do it. I’ll pay you back.” Her attitude and defiance slowly faded from her face.

“Good.” You nodded, “then sign it.”

She hesitated for only a moment before scribbling her signature across the bottom of the contract. You felt a strange mixture of relief and sadness, knowing you had to be this tough, but also hoping it would be the turning point she needed.

“You can stay with us while you’re in Monaco,” you told her, “but I expect you to find a job as soon as possible. If you fail to keep up with your end of the deal, there will be consequences. Understood?”

“Understood.” She nodded, though her expression was still a mix of resentment and defeat.

You exhaled, feeling a small sense of relief wash over you. This wasn’t easy, and you hated having to be this strict with her, but it had to be done. Oscar wrapped his arm around you, his touch grounding as soon as you watched your sister head towards the guest room.

“You did the right thing,” he said quietly.

“I hope so,” you whispered, leaning into him. “I just want her to grow up.”

“Don’t worry, she will.” Oscar assured you, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. “With you as her sister, she doesn’t have much of a choice,”

Later that evening, the apartment finally fell quiet, dinner was definitely awkward and quiet, but with your sister already tucked away in the guest room, the weight of everything you had said and done began to settle in. You were sitting at the edge of the bed, heart heavy and mind replaying what had happened earlier over and over. The way your sister had looked at you—hurt and angry—it cut deeper that you were willing to admit.

You had always been strong, but this strength had come with a cost. Now, sitting in the stillness of the night, the reality of your actions hit you like a tidal wave. It wasn’t just the contract or the money, it was the fear—the fear that in trying to teach her a lesson, you might have pushed her too far. That in being the disciplinarian, you had damaged something that might never fully recover or heal.

Oscar entered the room quietly, sensing the shift in your mood. He sat beside you, his presence had always been comforting, but it wasn’t enough to stop the flood of emotions you had been holding back.

“Was I too harsh, Osc?” You whispered, voice barely audible.

He frowned slightly, tilting his head to look at you. “No, you weren’t. She needed to hear all of it.”

“I know,” you replied, voice trembling. “But what if I lose her because of this? What if she hates me for it?”

You felt your tears welling up again, but this time you couldn’t stop them anymore. They spilled down your cheeks, unchecked, as you finally let go of the tension and frustration you had been carrying.

“I’m not being harsh to punish her, I just want her to understand how hard life is, how much I’ve sacrificed. But what if all she sees is me being cruel?”

Oscar pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you as you broke down. You rested your head on his chest, sobs coming in waves, guilt and fear crashing over you. You had always been strong for so long—too long—and now, it felt like everything was unraveling.

“She’s my baby sister,” you choked out between sobs. “I don’t want to lose her. But I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want her to think I’m just some heartless person who only cares about money.”

Oscad held you tighter, his voice calm and steady as he spoke. “She won’t hate you. Not forever. She’s upset now, sure. But she’s young, and right now, she probably doesn’t understand why you’re doing this. But she will, trust me. One day, she’ll look back at it and realize that you did this because you love her.”

You shook your head, your chest tightening with the weight of your emotions. “I feel like I’m always the one who has to be the bad guy. I never get to be the one who’s just there for her, to support her without judgment.”

Oscar stroked your hair gently, his voice soothing. “You’ve done more for her than anyone else ever could. You’ve given her everything. You’re not the bad guy, you’re her protector, even when it means being tough on her. Yeah, maybe this will cause a rift for now, but it won’t last. She’ll come around, she’ll see that you’re doing this because you care.”

You pulled away slightly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “What if she doesn’t?”

“She will,” Oscar said firmly. “But even if it takes time, you can’t keep beating yourself up for doing what’s right. You’re teaching her a lesson that no one else will. You’re giving her the tools to grow up, to be responsible. Sometimes, that means being tough. That’s tough love.”

You nodded, but the guilt still gnawed at you. “I just wish I didn’t have to be this person all the time. The one who fixes things, who keeps everyone in line.”

“I know. But you’re not doing this alone anymore, okay? I’m here. Whenever it feels like it’s too much, rest on me. You can always rest on me.”

You leaned into him again, his warmth easing the ache that you’re feeling inside of you. “I just hope she understands someday,” you whispered.

“She will,” Oscar said softly, kissing the top of your head. “And until then, you’ve done what you needed to do. You’ve set her on the right path, and that’s what matters.”

As the tears slowly subsided, you felt a flicker of hope, knowing that even though this was hard, it was necessary. Even if your sister doesn't see it now, you could only hope that one day, she would understand that everything you did was out of love.

The weight on your shoulders became a little lighter, knowing that Oscar was right. Even if it took time, even if there were still battles to fight, you knew you weren’t facing them alone anymore, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to breathe. You had done what needed to be done. Now it was up to your sister to follow through.

[yanderestarangel]

HEADKANONS MORTAL KOMBAT | "WHAT IS THE SEXUAL DIFFERENCE WITH THE S/O OF THE TWO JOHNNY CAGE?"

TW: afab anatomy, aggressive sex, age gap, fluff, v!sex, degradation, possessive sex, red flags, dilf johnny cage, mk1 and mk11 canon spoilers, pet names, smut, daddykink.

↺ OLD JOHNNY CAGE - MK11 ↺

He is the typical hot dilf man you meet at the grocery store buying groceries and talking about how expensive they are, starting a conversation with you in line while working up the courage to ask you out, but forgetting to ask for your number.

OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - would take it slow with you not wanting to scare you, his company was relaxing and calming, making you feel safe and secure. He likes to tell dad jokes, after all, he is one, but he wouldn't mind going out with you, someone who is practically his daughter's age, after all, he knows he's better than a lot of young guys out there. He is a man who lived a lot, after his marriage and death he knew how to act and how to really please his partner.

He would talk to you on the phone sometimes before the date, just to get to know you even more.

OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - will pick you up at home with his car, it's not something luxurious, after all, he became detached from luxury as soon as he married Sonia and joined the military.

He would take you to a fine restaurant in the city, being a gentleman pulling out the chair for you to sit, and making you comfortable enough to talk to him. He wouldn't bring up the subject of Sonia's death, because it was a painful subject, he would always love her, but now he had to move on with his life, and if you wanted, it could be with you.

He knows he's seductive, even though he's 56 years old, he looks much younger too, always wearing shirts that expose his physique, especially his biceps, but he does it naturally, with a heartthrob charm, something he knows well be.

He likes to buy you dinners, being a gentleman, not out of pride but because he likes to see your smile on your face, but if you want to be independent go ahead, he likes people with attitude.

OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - would make you an announcement like "Hey, we've been hanging out together for a while, how about making it official sweetie? Will you be my boyfriend/girlfriend?" -He just said, looking at you, while taking a promise ring out of his pocket, giving you the choice of whether it was his or not. If you say "yes" get ready for a crazy ride with a crazy hot old man.

OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - is a man with an above average libido for his age, he knows how to take care of you, loving to eat out, especially if you call him "my old man" he took that nickname for himself, so you can expect Johnny discreetly rubbing his hips against you with his pulsing cock full of semen, ready to fill you up, while whispering softly in your ear: "-Fuck baby, look what you did to your old man... Making my cock hard like that , you know Daddy is going to fuck you now right?”

OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - is a soft dom, he likes to dominate you, see you whimper beneath him, but he will always prioritize your pleasure first, always working on your clitoris with his mouth and fingers - he knows how to suck extremely well, curling his fingers inside gives your pussy, even if you like it, doing a tongue job on your ass, he also loves anal, so if you let him, he will fuck you in all the holes, with a constant rhythm, dominant but affectionate -

You won't get a punishment from him, don't even try, he's a trained man, if you try to make him jealous so he can fuck you roughly - even moaning another name in bed won't help - Johnny will just laugh and shrug his shoulders -

"-Baby, I'm too old for this, it won't help, if you want me to be ruder, just say ok?" -Cage would say, smiling at you while winking, it was true, if you wanted aggressive sex, just say so, but your dilf boyfriend would guarantee that you wouldn't be able to walk for a long time.

He likes to praise you during sex, not being a big fan of degradation, but if you want, he can mix the two.

"My beautiful little slut"

"You're a good slut with a beautiful pussy, you know that?"

"Such a naughty prince/princess... I love your little pussy in my fucking cock..."

"Yes take my dick like the good boy/girl you are."

He likes to cum all over you, breasts, ass, pussy, belly, thighs and face, everything needs to be properly marked for him.

OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - who likes to fuck you in every corner of the house, lifting you in his arms while he hits your hard dick against your clitoris, making you squirm on his dick - he's vasectomized, meaning you don't need to worry in getting pregnant by him - he will fill you with cum, praising you for taking everything he gave you - "-Yes... my good boy/girl, taking all your old man's cum with that beautiful pussy, you deserve a reward you know? " -

↺ NEW JOHNNY CAGE - MK1 ↺

He is much softer in personality, he likes to see everything with joy in his eyes, even if they are serious matters. He would be the kind of guy you would randomly talk to on the subway, and yes, he did bring up the subject with you while smiling and lowering his sunglasses to get a better look at you.

NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - would get your number quickly, saying that you two can go out one day if you want - he doesn't really care if you recognize him as a movie actor or not, he liked you as a person and wants to get to know you a lot better - And in a few weeks of conversation, he will already be in love with you, waiting for your call or notification from you, he will bother you a lot too, more than 30 messages in less than 2 hours if you don't respond to him.

NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - will pick you up at your door in a luxurious sports car, saying that he got your address from a friend from the FBI - Yes, it was Kenshi - and that he was going to take you shopping with him, you hadn't even showered yet.

NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - will give you a prince/princess day, buying everything you want, without hesitation. He was also going to use the opportunity to vent about how he felt after the divorce with Cris, while smiling looking at you, mentally thanking you for having you in his life, he is a lonely man, even with some friends, he feels empty, probably because of his daddy issues, but he won't show weakness to you, at least not at first.

NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - who will beg you to sleep in his mansion, having a "girls night" with him and you watching several cliché films - films even from the beginning of his career - while he and you walk around in silk pajamas combining for the mansion. He also likes to take care of himself, that is, get ready to take care of his hair, whether it's helping him moisturize, coloring his hair or giving him skin care. Johnny will also let you test your makeup skills on him, taking lots of photos with weird and silly filters afterwards.

He will also ask you to be a boyfriend/boyfriend much quicker, a few dinners and caresses later and Johnny will be on your feet. His proposal will be in person, with him holding a big bouquet of roses and winking at you in a cheesy way, but he was visibly nervous, shaking and sweating a little, especially his bottom lip.

"-I wanted to do this in person (Y/N)... I just- fuck-" Johnny tries to speak, still nervous, while taking a few breaths, finally recovering his posture. "-Will you date me?" He finally continues the request, nervous and afraid of rejection, but if you accept him he will let out a sigh of relief, and then you will have to calm him down, because he will be pale from being so nervous.

NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - He fucks you slowly the first few times, soft jazz music played in the background of the five-star hotel room you were staying in that weekend, it was the first time you had sex, and he was controlling himself so as not to hit you hard On the mattress, he felt his hips sway with each sweet moan that left your lips, he held you tighter and started to pick up the pace even more. His eyes were closed and he seemed to feel the heat rising inside him. His moans were driving him crazy.

"-Oh Lord..." Johnny Cage whispered, as if he wanted you to hear how good you made him feel, he held your hands tightly and started moving even faster. His breathing was heavy. "-Please...tell me to go faster baby, please."

NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - Who is extremely jealous, you can't make him jealous, this will end with Johnny having aggressive possessive sex with you, holding your head against the mattress with expensive sheets, slightly suffocating you. His pulsing cock was pounding into your uterus at a punishing and painful pace. "-Look at you (Y/N)." he sneered, his voice full of disdain.

"-A pathetic, desperate slut, begging for release. Did you honestly think you could find satisfaction with anyone other than me? That anyone else could make you feel the way I do?" -He turned you around, forcing you to face him, Johnny was sweaty, his gaze was pure hatred and jealousy. "-You disgust me" he spat in your face as he took your lips in an aggressive kiss that left you breathless, his tone full of contempt. "-You thought you could show off your body and tempt others? Thinking you could get away with it? No, my precious, there are consequences for your actions." Cage accelerated the movements of his dick in your wetness, while he growled between moans, taking his hands to your breasts and squeezing them.

NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - who likes a bit of everything, you can pin him with your wrists to the bed, and use his dick for your pleasure, with his mouth gagged with your panties, watching you enjoy him, while he begs for you, so you can let him cum inside the heat of your pussy, tearing up as he looks at you, whimpering against the fabric in his mouth.

NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - who even though he loves seeing you on top, loves even more being a hard!dom and fucking you with all the accumulated lust he has, hitting his dick on your pussy, rubbing the tip of his fat dick on your clitoris to make you squirm, who loves to run his hand over the bulge that his dick makes in your belly, while he enters your pussy and makes you tremble, he loves to degrade you, making you always be his submissive.

"-Look at you, completely wet, just begging for my cock."

"-Come for me. Show me how much you want my cock, how much you need me to fill you like the submissive whore you are."

"-I'm the only one who can use and pleasure that sweet pussy of yours."

"-You're nothing but a whore to me." "

"-Fucking hell- Yes... You're nothing but a pathetic little whore, begging for someone to fuck you, a pretty, pathetic whore for my dick."

"-That beautiful mouth of yours was made for just one thing: to give me pleasure. To worship every inch of my cock."

NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - Who will fuck you on top of the piles of money he earned, spread out on the mattress, messy - wolf of wall street style - while you feel the dollar bills scratch you, while he smiles at you, holding your thighs while your pussy swallows him. "-What will you want baby? a car? a Versace bag? another house in Malibu? anything you want, just moan and talk to daddy in that pretty voice, and I'll give you everything you want my prince/ Princess." He went back to fucking you, watching your breasts bounce as the money bills scattered across the floor, and you moaned in response to him.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[ghoulphile]

I just read one where somebody was talking about how the ghoul would be able to smell if the reader was on her period and on another note…imagine if he could smell that she’s aroused by him. him telling her to cut that shit out and her being like what are u talking about????

“pheromones, sweetheart. ain’t a man in the wasteland who can’t smell ya right now, ghoul or otherwise” 🫢

ok ok ok but hold up!!! that is one of my fave tropes for ghouls besides the whole marking with cum to stop ferals 🥴 my personal hc is that ghouls have enhanced senses so better everything.

maybe you’ve gotta rub one out while you’re traveling together bc you just can’t help it anymore - you’ve been clenching your thighs and shifting and trying to ignore it but if you hope to get any sleep, you’re gonna have to take matters into your own hands.

you’re quiet as a mouse, perfunctory in how you play with your clit and fuck yourself with your fingers. you wanna be as quick and efficient as possible. after all, he’s on the other side of the blown out wall after all, murmuring to dogmeat and stoking the camp fire.

the most you’ll allow yourself are these little hitching breaths, praying the slick sound of you playing with yourself isn’t audible among the noise of wasteland nights. and when you finally cum with a bitten of choke of breath, stumbling on weak knees to plop across from him, he barely glances your way.

his face might tilt oddly but he doesn’t say anything so you think you get away with it. and because you think you’re sly, you start doing this pretty regularly. every time ends the same, you sitting across from him sweaty and buzzing with satisfaction, him quietly contemplating you before turning his attention away.

except… you push too far eventually.

you’d slunk your way back to the campsite after riding your fingers, slick still stuck in the creases of your knuckles (you wiped them clean, or rather as clean as you could in the middle of the wasteland, but tattered rags only do so much). the flames of a low banked fire dance in the abyss of his eyes with a firefly glow. his stare is more intense than ususal, and you fluster.

fuck. he knows. doesn’t he?

then he’s asking you to hand him something, and you do - only for him to strike rattlesnake quick. rough fingers drag over the delicate skin of your wrist, digging into your thudding pulse point.

“what-“ your wide eyes snap up to his, and you shake your hand. his grip is like steel. “let go!”

“see, funny thing is, i don’ think you really want me ta.”

“the hell is that supposed to mean?”

a sound rumbles from his chest, full of grit and gravel; bourbon heat. “don’ play coy with me lil girl. i’ve been smellin’ how wet you get for days.”

your heart stops, eyes squeezing shut and face turning away. his gaze lingers like a physical caress as it drags down your cheek, snagging on the tuck of your lip between your teeth.

he laughs, rusty and mean. “oh, sweetie, you think i ain’t noticed by now? didn’t hear all those precious lil sounds you made? that’s real cute.”

“i-i’m…”

sorry.

“how’s about you give me a practical demonstration, yeah?”

he tugs at your wrist, brings your hand close to his face. you feel the puff of his breath. the slick drag of his tongue as he laps at the webbing between your fingers, chasing after the remnants of your slick.

“think i’m owed that much for all the teasin’.”

[kamesama]

Hiii, I have a request! Ok so hear me out, what if Sukuna finds another woman and replace reader. make it as angsty as possible with a happy ending pretty please with a cherry on top🥹

you have no idea how excited i got when i read this, and then i got disappointed when i ( after my 3rd time reading the request ) noticed you said a happy ending. BUT SINCE IT HAS A CHERRY ON TOP, i will oblige. i would have made this worse if it wasn't for the happy ending.

— favourite: ryōmen sukuna.

— notes + warnings: *cracks knuckles* utter, sheer, disgusting sensation of feeling replaced; jealousy; mentions of self-loathing; mentions of intimacy/intercourse ( sukuna sleeping w/ another woman, etc ); implication of violence / cruel sukuna moment ( what do you expect? ); happy ending tho ( ? ); hurt/comfort ( ? ); unspecified but it's heian era / true-form! sukuna; concubine w/ an attitude! reader. — word count: 1224

oh, to be the apple of one’s eye — utterly adored, all-too-greatly desired, cherished beyond measure. irreplaceable.

oftentimes you felt like so, when sunken into the mattress for the sake of being ravished. when preyed on by an intense blood-hued gaze. when cradled almost gently upon the throne that was sukuna’s lap. 

but how foolish of you to think that you were the single person privileged to chant his name in ecstasy. how adorable of you to think that only your fingernails could claw down his back to leave incoherent trails of pleasure you always lost yourself in. how pathetic of you to think that it was solely your own luxury to occupy the spot upon his thighs. how audacious of you to think that your lips, and your lips alone, were entitled to the act of worshipping his skin; from the sharp angle of his jaw, down his beating pulse, across the expanse of his broad chest. how bold of you to think that your tongue was the single one capable of conjuring up tales that could tickle his fancy and shackle his interest and entertain his unpredictable whims. 

and so, you pondered. when another had come to occupy his chamber after dark, with her lush skin and silken hair and slender legs, you pondered, for what else could you possibly do, contained between the walls of your room? 

have you rotten already?

you’ve seen her march and stomp to his chamber, leaving an invisible trace of the scent so strong you could swear it still haunted your nostrils. her lips glistened in the candlelight as if coated with a thick layer of honey that she must have rubbed into her tongue and gums earlier that eve. she wore her eroticism proudly; the subtle arch of her mouth was an aphrodisiac of its own. 

the walls were always thin, but that night, they seemed thinner than ever. you could swear you’ve heard every gasp, every moan, every writhe. the curl of her toes, the grip of her slender digits at the sheets as her back arched in that wondrous curve. did his lips touch every inch of her body? from the saccharine spot on her neck to the delightful mounds on her chest? the thin skin of her hip; the lush softness of her thighs?

did his tongue utter praises of her performance, of her appearance, of her? did he claim her with nothing short of delight coursing through his accursed veins?

the sole thought made you so sullenly disappointed. your own bedding had never felt colder.

“you look miserable, woman. what is it with that attitude?” as blunt as ever, sukuna questioned, his knuckles sunken into his cheek as he watched you peel a pomegranate. despite the skillfulness faithfully coating your movements, your digits remained stained with the rich hue of the fruit’s insides; despite the effort to be flawless.

your lips pursed in response, a small sign of displeasure standing hand-in-hand with reluctance. perhaps you are acting coy — sukuna concluded — lacing your foul mood with a girlish act and bratty demeanour. not that it would render him surprised. rather, it tickled his curiosity, fueled his fantasy, and made him just a tidbit of something somewhat akin to concern.

“speak, princess,” he cooed, deciding to humour your wits with barely a mouthful of niceties. he leaned back in his seat, patting his lap with one of his hands, whilst one rested on the thigh of his other leg. the remaining two were crossed over his chest either out of boredom or superiority; or perhaps both. 

you wanted to disobey; to turn your head away with a huff as your fingertips dug into pomegranate seeds. to maintain your shred of pride, wearing your displeasure with a sense of dignity out of sole respect for all the umbrage and anguish lulling you to sleep on the nights when you weren’t worthy enough. 

but you didn’t.

almost too eagerly, you put away the fruit into a bowl to bleed, nearly crawling to his lap. despite the willingness of your body to nest so closely against his, however, your face remained with its little scowl, your eyes almost overfilled with chagrin. 

“am i not your favourite?” 

the audacity soaked your words, dripping heavily off them. sukuna sensed it; the thickness of envy in your voice, and all the more loathing that nearly looked like some deranged form of self-pity.

his slit brows rose up, his crimson gaze intense enough to have made you feel that — if he were to look just a little deeper into your eyes — he would see the way your hands massaged your own breasts as if to grasp whether or not they were shapely enough; the way you trailed one same line underneath your eye time and time again in an attempt to determine if sleeplessness has made you revolting.

“why should you desire another to warm your bed?”

a grin tugged at the corners of sukuna’s mouth as a sense of understanding weighed on his shoulders. a small hum of acknowledgement sounded from the top of his throat, his eyes closing as he took your stained hand and brought it up to his lips.

“so that’s what this is about,” he mused, his tongue shamelessly trailing across your digits to lap up the sour sweetness coating them, “jealousy is a pesky thing, little one.”

“i don’t care,” you scoffed, trying to ignore the way he gently sucked on the tip of your finger before looking at you, one of his hands absentmindedly caressing up your thigh through the silken material of your clothing, “it should be me. just me. i am the only one you summon to peel your fruits and to accompany you while you write, so why call upon another to please you at night?” you demanded. it seemed to amuse him all the more.

he raised a brow at your words and their curious tone, “you’re forgetting your place, woman,” he spoke coldly, yet the edge of his statement was somewhat softened by a dash of entertainment. nonetheless, it was enough to send shivers down your spine as his fingers sunk into your cheeks, making your luscious lips pucker. he observed your features; that small tidbit of defiance standing in defence of your vulnerability, your need, your craving. it made him grin with a certain kind of wickedness.

“but i do suppose that makes you my favourite,” he uttered, “no one else would dare be such an audacious thing…” his thumb grazed over your lower lip, parting your mouth open just enough to catch a glimpse of the pink flesh inside, “i could rip your tongue out for your insolence,” he cooed slowly, as if imagining your bleeding mouth, filled to the brim with crimson, “and you’d still be just as pretty.”

a shiver ran down your spine enough to make your bones feel frozen to the marrow, yet his touch left your body scorched; blood boiling with desire for whatever wicked debauchery his mind could conjure up.

“but i do appreciate your tales. very much so.” he spoke, easing his grasp on your face, instead morphing it into an almost appreciative caress.

the uncharacteristically gentle kiss planted to your brow seemed to calm your pounding heart for a mere few moments.

“perhaps i have some reminding to do.”

thank you for reading!

— kamesama.

[zeltqz]

begging for a jealous/possessive hanma that catches someone hitting on his s/o

#—♱𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇♱—#

— syn : hanma doesn't like the fact someone's hitting on his girlfriend.

— cw : nsfw content ahead ⚠︎ - deranged!hanma, death threats, choking, possessiveness, hanma refers to you as his, he almost kills a guy for you, red flag but its shuji so its ok <3

— length : 900 words

— a/n : i love my little red flag lmao. also i listened to house of ballons while writing this so its linked under the title if u wanna listen too lol

“Come onnnnnnn. You’re too pretty to be acting like this.” The man nudged you playfully, inching impossibly closer to your sitting form. “At least tell me yer name beautiful.”

You sighed exhaustedly and raised your glass back to your lips, taking a sip of your water. As you swallowed the liquid, you glanced at him from the corner of your eye. Yup, he looked like your typical wannabe punk. Someone that thinks everybody and their mamas are scared of in the streets. 

Before dating Hanma, you would’ve been scared of him. They’re known for their violence, threatening any person that dares to even walk past them on the street or look at them sideways. 

The crazed look in his eyes, the tongue piercing, the oddly dyed hair; wannabe punk. 

You put your drink down and motioned to the bartender to refill your cup of water. 

“I’m waiting girl. What’s yer name?” He was met with more silence. You could practically feel his irritation growing. “Stop being sucha bitch and just—”

“I have a boyfriend.” You thanked the bartender as he passed your cup back, filled with water. Taking another sip, you peeked over at him again from the corner of your eye, hoping to see him back away now that he knows the truth. 

But you forget who you’re messing with right now. 

“Boyfriend ? I don’t see a boyfriend. Oi!” He motioned over at the bartender, ushering him closer. Once the bartender got close enough, he wrapped an arm around his shoulder and brought him closer. “Do you see a boyfriend around here?” The bartender stammered and stuttered, so he clicked his tongue irritatedly and looked back at you. “Is this your boyfriend? Hah?”

You shook your head, remaining utterly calm. “Nope.”

“Exactly.” His voice sounded amused, as if he’d proved you wrong. “What kind of boyfriend would let ya walk outside wearing this, huuuuh?”

You could feel his fingers trailing along your thigh and closed your eyes, counting to ten in your head. In the midst of your counting, his touches got more bold, trailing them up towards the slope of your waist, up and down your arm. 

By the time you got to seven, you gave him three more seconds to get his hands off you, giving him the benefit of the doubt until the touches suddenly stopped.

You opened your eyes and looked to your left to see a long arm wrapped around the mans shoulder, the kanji sin tattooed big on his palm and you couldn’t help but smirk.

“Is there a reason you’re groping my girlfriend, hmm?” Hanma’s voice was sickly sweet and the man went red in the face. 

“No! No reason. Just mistook her, that’s all.” He smiled, showing all his teeth, hoping Hanma would let him off easy. 

“Mistook her?” Hanma hummed, confused. “Baby, did this man mistake you for anyone?”

You looked him deep in the eye for a second and fought back the urge to laugh when his lip started trembling, hoping and pleading in his eyes that you’d lie for him. “Not really. He actually even questioned your existence, Shuji.”

“I didn’t!”

“You did.” You grinned and watched the full fear sprout on his face.

“She’s lyin—” The hand resting on his shoulder quickly moved to his throat, squeezing until you saw veins forming down the length of his arm. You squeezed your thighs together, trying to calm the roaring pulse between your legs as you watched your boyfriend currently choking the fuck out of your harasser, all with a calm smile on his face.

“Don’t kill him Shuji.”

He winked and squeezed a little more until he went red in the face, his eyes threatening to pop out of his skull.

You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest. “Let go. He’s not worth it Shuji.”

“He touched what’s mine. Death would be the easy way out for him.” As if to prove his point, he began squeezing tighter and you knew if you didn’t stop him, you’d see the light in his eyes slowly fade. 

The chair squeaked as you slid off it and walked up to your boyfriend. “Shuji. Let go. He’s not worth it,” you repeated, voice a little firmer. 

Shuji had a deadpan look on his face as he stared at you, as if examining how serious you were. If he were to kill him right now, cleanup wouldn’t be an issue, your attitude would be. You’d stop talking to him for at least a week and ignore all his advances which would piss him the fuck off. 

“You’re so fucking lucky I want some pussy tonight,” Shuji said lowly in the man’s ear before letting go. 

The man dropped to the floor, coughing and holding his throat. 

You smiled and stepped over his crouched form, over to your boyfriend and wrapped your arms around his waist. “Love you Shu’.”’

“Mhm whatever.” He bent down to your level and kissed your lips. His hands gripped onto your waist, holding your tight and making you giggle into his lips. “Next guy that looks at you though, I won’t be so kind.”