#i just imagine how much that has to fuckin hurt man

[pinkautist]

me seeing some art where neuvillette has his hair short or tied up: NOOOO DON'T INCLUDE HIS RHINOPHORES IN THAT YOU'RE GONNA HURT HIM‼️‼️‼️

[wintrwinchestr]

an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.

warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.

divider by @saradika

“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?

Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.

When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.

As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.

Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.

“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.

When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.

Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.

He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.

“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”

–

Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.

And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.

“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.

He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.

“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.

“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on. 

He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”

“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”

He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.

You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”

He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression. 

“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”

The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.

“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.

Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand. 

“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.

“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it. 

“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”

You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.

“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.

Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”

You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state. 

“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”

He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”

You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.

There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.

“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.

He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.

“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap. 

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows. 

You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you. 

“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.

With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.

Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.

“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lave your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”

It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.

A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”

You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.

“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”

He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.

You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.

“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.

“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”

You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches. 

“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.

“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”

“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against. 

You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.

“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.

With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”

You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can. 

Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.

“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.

So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain. 

“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.

“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.

“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”

You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.

“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”

“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…” 

Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is. 

Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 3

part 1 | part 2

(tw: guns, accidental death)

Robin’s already in full panic mode by the time Steve pulls up to her place, flinging the passenger door open and throwing herself into the car with so much force that the car bounces on its wheels a little. “Drive!!”

“Jesus Christ, good morning to you, too.”

“Steve!”

Steve starts to drive.

Beside him, Robin flips the visor down to look at her reflection; groans and scrubs her hands down her face in misery at whatever she sees. Steve doesn’t really get it. He thinks she looks beautiful, with her hair gently moving in the breeze from the open window, with her freckles lit up by the early morning sun.

“Ugh,” she says, turning to look at him, “I can’t believe I look like a zombie and you’re gonna make me late to the first day of school.”

“Wow.” Fuckin’ ingrate. And when he was just being so nice to her in his head. “How about a thank you, huh? ‘Thanks for picking me up, Steve. Thanks for bringing my backpack, Steve. Sorry you almost got shanked by your neighbor, Steve.’”

“You what???”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Um, yes it very much does matter, what the—”

“—I’m just saying, a little gratitude? Wouldn’t hurt you.”

He licks at the corner of his mouth, spritzes wiper fluid to clear the bugs off the windshield. Robin’s eyes are bulging out of her head, but he really doesn’t want to talk about how he still feels the ghost press of steel against his throat, so: “You’re not even right, by the way; I don’t know why you’re complaining.”

“Huh?”

“School started yesterday. I’m making you late for the second day of school.”

“Yesss,” she draws the word out like he’s stupid, rolling her wrist in a hurry up and get it motion, “but everyone knows that syllabus day doesn’t count. The first pep rally is the real first day of school.”

Ah, there it is.

Steve steals another peek at his best friend while they’re on a straightaway, notes the nervous twitch of her hands as she goes back to fussing at her reflection; the way she’s clumping her lashes together with seven coats too many of some drugstore brand mascara. She’s wearing lipstick. “This is about Vick—”

“—Don’t talk about—”

“—It’s about Vickie, isn’t it?”

“Ughhhhh.” Robin folds forward and thunks her head against the dash. “Fine, okay? Fine! Yes! This may have something to do with a distressingly cute fellow marching band member. Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic.”

“Oooh, big word for you, Steven.” She swats him on the shoulder, face all twisted up in offense. “Stop laughing!”

“Stop hitting me,” he laughs. “I’ll dump your ass out on this highway.”

She gasps and narrows her eyes at him. “You wouldn’t.”

Steve eases his foot onto the brake.

“Okay, okay! Mercy! I’m being an asshole, alright? I’m sorry. I’m just— I’m stressed! Being gay is very stressful.”

The knife incident pops back into his mind. “Yeah,” he mutters, “I imagine it is.”

—

He catches himself slouching down into his seat a bit when they pull up to the school. Has to force himself to sit upright, hears his mother’s tutting in his ear about bad posture and the message it projects to the world.

It’s not that he’s embarrassed to be here; really, he isn’t. He’s just hoping to avoid being spotted by the nuggets now that they go here, too, lest he be accosted for evading his chauffeur duties.

God.

Dustin’s nerd shit is infecting his brain.

Robin grabs her bag out of the back seat, plants a parting peck on Steve’s cheek as she gets out of the car. “See you later?”

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up for work.”

“Love you, dingus.”

And then he’s alone again.

With Robin gone, Steve finds himself driving. Wandering and aimless, like a ghost who doesn’t know he’s gone. It’s not like he has nothing to do — he’s supposed to be out finding a second job, finding a way to support himself and his mom, because he’s the man of the house now. Because his life has turned into one of those shitty, overcomplicated word problems from math class.

If a recently widowed mother works no hours and her minimum-wage son works as many as Family Video will allow, how much mold-riddled dogshit housing can they afford?

Not much.

Inevitably, he finds himself circling the scorched bones of Starcourt, driving tired loops around the barbed wire perimeter. His ghost likes to guide him here; can’t shake the place where he shook off the mortal coil.

He didn’t know it at the time, but Steve Harrington died the day the mall burned down. Embarrassing, to not hear the death knell as his family name went up in smoke.

It was hard to hear much at all that night, between the concussion and the fireworks and the shrieking of a monster being torn apart, but the memory caresses his mind now in cruel whispers: the headrush of victory; the blood and the sweat; the relief that they’d won, they’d done it, it’s over, they won.

Steve tugs at his bad ear ‘til the ringing subsides.

Some fucking grand prize.

The thing is, you can’t go around exploding an eldritch horror without alerting the US government, and the US government can’t go around letting major investors in a hostile commie invasion keep their assets once they find out about their treasonous schemes. It happened fast: the arrest, the bail, the impending trial and the seizure of property. Richard Harrington was once a small town god on an invisible throne, making deals with devils in shadowy boardrooms, and suddenly he was looking at life in a cell.

Maybe it was a blessing he died before his reckoning was due. Maybe it was no accident at all.

The second, and perhaps more important, thing is: stray bullets don’t care about your looming court date.

Dad had a habit of cleaning his guns while he was drunk, nursing a whiskey in one hand while he polished the gleaming barrels with the other. Pointless, really, because the guns were always pristine to begin with. Dick Harrington didn’t hunt. Didn’t shoot. Claimed the pistol was for home defense, that he kept it loaded in case anyone ever tried to hurt his family, but Steve knew the truth.

His dad just liked to flirt with death. Liked to handle pretty, deadly things, stroke his fingers over ruthless metal and feel the rush of power when he walked away unscathed.

He didn’t walk away that night.

Didn’t even face death standing.

Sliced through his femoral artery and rolled right out of his chair.

They found him lying on the ground in a dark, sticky puddle, gasping like a fish as blood spurted from his thigh. Crazy how fast it happened. Steve had been in his room when the shot rang out, and he barely managed to reach the bottom of the stairs before the gurgling noises stopped. Just boom! whizz! bang! and Dick Harrington was gone.

Maybe it’s a good thing, too, that they lost the house.

The image of his mother in the hallway that night — shellshocked in the doorway, one pale hand shaking in front of her open mouth, features wide and wet with waking horror as she stared into the room — was enough to make him never want to step foot in the place again.

So now they live in a rundown piece of shit on the wrong side of town, with hideous burnt orange carpet and wood paneled walls, with cracks in the ceiling and cigarette burns in the walls, some parting gifts from whatever feral hick lived there before them, and it feels like another cruel, cosmic joke. Like the universe is delighting in the Harringtons’ comeuppance; like the blackened beams and brick rubble of Starcourt are all twisting to form one great, mocking mouth; the better to smile and laugh at their misfortune.

You bought your bed, now you have to lie in it.

He didn’t even know that the Harringtons owned Forest Hills until it was the only asset left to their name.

He’s pretty sure his dad bought it more as a joke than a genuine investment. Meant to teach Steve a lesson, like how he used to bring home Waffle House applications whenever Steve got a C on a report card. This is your future if you don’t straighten up, son.

Kill yourself, dad.

Oh, wait.

You already did.

—

part 4

[alwaysshallow]

― blood on my shirt, rose in my hand

SUMMARY: Simon Riley knows you have bad experiences with dating, but he also knows you don't really need no one but him. He's gonna provide you anything. So you can imagine how he could change, when for the first time, you think you've found the one man who's right for you. To your surprise, weird events happen during the time you date Nick. Thankfully, Simon's there to help you. (11,4k)

READ ON AO3

A/N: this is SUCH a long piece, so some of it is here, but the full version is on AO3. i hope you're gonna forgive me for this one </3

"It's not like I'm ugly, right? I thought about it. If I'm ugly, so that's why it doesn't work out." you sip your favorite wine, looking right at your best friend, who has been listening for the past hour your ramblings about dating.

"You're fuckin' stupid, but not ugly, pet."

He's the best friend in the world – you can say this, meaning it with your whole heart. In fact, he's the best friend everyone probably wished to have, at least in your mind. Not only here for you, but loyal, you can tell him basically anything. He wouldn't say a thing, even if someone was nagging, and he was mostly a good adviser; all the qualities you looked for in a best friend, right?

And he was brutally honest, like right now, but you don't mind it. Simon Riley had this thing, and even if sometimes you were almost offended at his bluntness (like this one time, when he told you you're a crying mess and you act… worse than a toddler), you mostly appreciated it. Your other friends couldn't compare to his honesty, this man was not the one to lick your ass.

Or, so you thought.

"Excuse me?" you raise your eyebrow, laughing, while shaking your head. "You should, I don't know, tell me I'm amazing and they don't deserve me. Or so." you joke; it causes him to roll his eyes.

"That's what I told you. Different words, but the same thingy."

"Right."

It sometimes sucks for you that Simon isn't a girl. He has this unbelieveably annoying guy thing, where he just can't be delusional with you, and he can't just mourn over some hot guy. His way of thinking is… on the other level, he totally skips the mourn part, the part that is pathetic; he's just saying things like "move on" and "there's a lot of them anyway". Again, you love it, but you really wish you could cry about guy being so pretty that it hurts, without him rolling his eyes.

Yet, when you're more in mad mood than mourning one, his attiude is just perfect. He's the one to encourage you to scream, he even brought you a few times to rage room when you needed to smash a few things, not to mention the attiude he was setting you in. Powerful, not giving a shit about a "piece of a man that doesn't deserve you".

Simon sighs. "You're worryin' too much. Really that desperate?"

You huff, as you sink more into the plushy couch in your apartment. "I'm not desperate. It's just…" you take a few seconds to think "being love starved."

"Sex starved, you mean."

"Love starved." you send him a look.

"Mhm. You fancy plushies, hugs, and all shite like this?"

"You're so fucking British, it hurts" you laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I want something like this. Someone to hold me, someone that cares about me and I know it. Sex comes in package, of course, but it's just… ugh, I want a man" you groaned.

You feel as pathetic as ever, when Simon doesn't respond – because how exactly should he? He wasn't vocal about things like this, he usually just nod his head, and there it was, another topic. A miracle it was that he was already listening to your date rambling, not cutting it off because he was uncomfortable or something.

Dreams about your love life… more girly conversation.

Mostly – you know guys who loved talking about it, obviously, and you adore it pretty much, especially when you can know their perspective on some things, but… Riley wasn't really one of them. He had "simple hookups" as he said one day, when you asked him about doing double-dates. It wasn't even an option, he just liked to ocassionally fuck and that's all.

So you stopped trying a few months ago for a double-date. Instead, you focused more on finding a man that would meet your expectations at least in the middle, and that was exhausting, to be honest. Tinder dates were just a disaster after disaster – if it wasn't some catfish, a guy that wanted to marry you and have kids after two weeks of writing, it was most definitely a guy with a desire to bang you quickly.

Romance was dead these days, you noticed. That wouldn't keep you away from trying to find someone, though. Patience was a key in things like these.

"Maybe you will set me up with one your friends? It wouldn't suck. You know them." you think out loud.

"Definitely too much wine f'you." Simon takes your glass, and pours all of the liquid to his mouth, swallowing it like it was some kind of juice, not alcohol. "You don't want a guy from military in your life. Trust me."

There's some sternness to his tone, at which you raise your eyebrow. It was just a funny comment from your side, nothing else – you know by the heart that this man doesn't like the idea of connecting his two worlds. "I know, Simon. Just joking, right?"

You place a hand on his. It's a comedic, yet, heartwarming view, when you see the size difference.

"And, you're pretty cool for a military guy."

He huffs. It seems like pretty cool offends him, but he doesn't say it out loud, so it can be only your imagination working. "You met me before I enlisted. 's different."

"How different?"

"You knew me before military."

He doesn't give you another answer that night, nor the continuation of this one – he brushes you off, like you are some kind of bug that is disturbing him, and brings up another topic, about his deployment. He asks if you can watch his apartment when he's gone, take care of it; it's stupid, Simon knows that you will always agree, but it's the need of asking you anyway.

And, he likes coming home, where he can smell your perfume, where he can see that you made some changes. You tend to do that a lot, mostly buying stuff to his apartment. "It looks worse than room in the hospital" you always say, when he cocks his eyebrow with amusement. He doesn't say that, but he finds it really adorable that you care so much, to make his space… cozier, even if he's not really attached to it. Mostly, it's for your comfort when you come to visit him, and that happens a lot; not like he minds it. Anyone else would be banned from his apartment, but you? Oh God, you wouldn't be, not in the milion years.

You could probably be the worst ever to him; call him names, punch, anything, and he would still be your Simon. It's what he was used to, to being by your side, no matter what time, no matter if you were in the good mood or not; your presence was everything to him.

Not like he'd ever confess that, but it is what you know, silently.

Yet, you are so good to him. Always sending him letters or texting him when he is on deployment. A couple of times, you sent him little things too, if he forgot something, photos included too, but new ones; mostly you captured views, but you were here once or twice. His happiness may not be that visible to outsiders, but his heart is full every time.

"My girl", he'd tell boys when they saw a polaroid of you, swiftly tucking it into his vest because no one was allowed to see it more than three seconds.

Often, Gaz joked if you are actually his girl even if you're not dating, but it sounded so bizzare to Ghost. How would you not be his? Thirteen years of friendship counted as something beyond being only his best friend, no? At least in his mind it was like this. He was used to you dating briefly other guys, but it lasted maybe a few months top. Nothing serious, probably his hookups were more meaningful than your relationships.

So you can easily imagine his confusion, when your mutual friends tell him big news about your new object of interest; someone that he doesn't even know yet, but he's not really his fan on the beggining.

It was just a month of being away.

His eyes are on you now; you are embarrassed, looking anywhere but at him. You don't even speak, you just wave your hand in dismissive manner, trying to change the topic because you don't really want to talk about it. Not in the presence of your best friend, at least.

It works for everyone but Simon, and you know it by the way he looks at you, processing what he just heard. Changing a topic, sudden talkativeness from your side is like buying time in that, time precious to think what to say to your best friend later on.

Because you know for the fact that he'll ask. He always does, and now he has a reason.

You have your reasons why you haven't told him. "It's nothing serious. That's why I didn't tell you." your voice is a little more silent than usual, but he can hear it anyway. You two are taking a walk to your apartment with no one around; and it's awkward one.

Simon seems like he doesn't want to say anything about your poor choice of men. It worries you; he always wanted somehow to make fun of you or make comment. Now, it's just a nod, like he gets it, but you know it's not it. He doesn't get it.

But you don't know what it is.

"C'mon!" you nudge him, and when it doesn't seem to affect him, you stand right in front of him. A little wobbly because of alcohol, your vision isn't so great too, but it makes him stop in his tracks. "Say something."

"Somethin'" he grumbles, and you can't help but roll your eyes. "What? Told me-"

"-I know what I told you!" you cup his face in your hands. Your head is a bit hazy, but the intensions are clear; making him talk and soft. It always works, so you have a lot of hope. "He's a good guy, but I want to meet him a bit closer to be… certain about him, you know? You've heard me whining about boys a bit too much."

"You can tell me everything." he muses, and you can't help but smile at that. Of course – of course you can tell him everything. You never doubted it for a second, and you think of yourself as stupid, doubting that he wouldn't want to hear about it. "Ill be the judge of that, though. Good guy thing."

"I can't be trusted?" you tease, and when he lets out a low chuckle, you grin even more. It's like a reward after him being his grumpy self.

"No." he shakes his head. "You don't know what is good for you. But that's why I'm here."

Under the influence of alcohol, you didn't pay too much of attention to his words; probably you wouldn't pay attention to it even if he'd say this when you are sober. Simon as your protector – it's so natural, you don't even need to think about it as something weird. It's just the way things are for thirteen years, everyone knows this.

Your friends, who were a bit reluctant on the beggining, but two parties later, when he joined the competition of drinking on time and wasn't drunk at all, he won over their hearts.

It was tougher with your parents, when you were in highschool. A little distanced at first, they constantly asked where were his parents (which, you told them, was rude asking, especially to his face), telling you how much of a bad news he could be for you. Suggestion of him ruining your future was the worst, you never thought of him this way; that discussion caused you to give them the silent treatment for a few days.

Apparently after that, suggesting that Simon is around you too much, clinging to your side and giving you "weird glances", they stopped the narrative, admitting that the boy might be damaged, but not broken. You still felt like they're judging their every move, but seeing that he had pretty good life plan, seeing that he thought about military and went here actually? Hell, they completely stopped being suspicious in any means.

Riley just had this thing of charming people, even if they didn't like him in the beggining. He had everything under his finger, trying to keep things under control – it was like that… pretty much since the beggining of his life. You met him when he was an adult, but he always liked to keep things under control; people, things that he cared about. What belonged to him was sacred, untouchable for anyone else.

The possessiveness started in his early childhood with toys, when he absolutely despised everyone who just wanted to touch his things, to lay their dirty, filthy fingers here. In early classes, it was considered just rude.

When he was older though, he started fighting for various things. Knowing he has the advantage, he used his legs, fists, when he had to, and no one was looking, besides the actual victim. He wasn't stupid; he knew how troublesome the public can be, he also knew the power of manipulation a bit too well to get caught so easily. Wasn't the plan, getting caught; it once happened, but because he wanted to; he even broke his own nose, making it like the other guy did it, just to get what he needed. The reputation of kid who was broken in the childhood, so he's just not opening on others was… suitable, for him. No one could suspect anything, especially when the kid just happened to be "attacked" by one of the popular ones, right?

The idea of power was something that Simon truly desired from the beggining; maybe it has something to do with the lack of his parents in his life, being transferred from one foster family to another. Maybe it's just him being a little fucked up – who knows.

What mattered, was the fact he had you. You, so sweet, so considerate to be by his side, to be protected by him, to be the person who "opened" because of her. Little did you know, he opened just because he wanted to be closer to you, not those fuckers you hang out with.

If you knew his past, you would have another reasons in mind, why he showed up to meet your potential new boyfriend. Jealousy, posessiveness, power complex, him being a control freak who can't give you to anyone he personally doesn't trust – if ever, considering you were his precious best friend. He isn't willing to share.

You aren't really aware of him being this crazy. You think of his flaws, and you see someone that has been damaged, someone that you can and will help, if he just asks for it – or if you'll see he needs it. So, naturally, you help, and grin the widest you can, when you see him in the door. He shows completely unexpected. It doesn't take you long to wrap your hands around his neck, tight, as you hug him.

Happy as always because you can see your friend, happy as ever because moments like these means a lot to you. When he's deployed, you can't even see him, so you're taking all in when he's right in front of you.

"Hope 'm not interruptin'." he murmurs into your hair, as his head is practically buried in them; he has to bend down a little to be at your level, but it's something he enjoys. The power.

"Never." you say immediately, not even hesitating in your statement. "Actually, you found a pretty good moment."

"That I did, eh?" his eyebrow arches, as he straightens up.

"As always. Nick's here, you have to meet him."

|READ THE REST ON AO3|

[yeyinde]

‼️imagine riding price while he’s smoking a cigar‼️ that just popped inside my head and now i’m horny

⇾warnings: unfettered filth, gratuitous smut; gendered!female reader, female anatomy; very slight possessive!Price; very heavy dom!Price; choking?? kinda???

⇾notes: damn, op. me, too. also, has anyone seen bodies bodies bodies? you know that moment when Pete Davidson says I just look like I fuck? that's this. that's Price.

With his head tilted back on the bed, lit cigar dangling from between his teeth, he looks almost attainable in the gloam. Touchable. Like a man you reach out, and have. It's so different from his usual countenance that it jars something inside of you, pricking that soft, sensitive place between your thundering heart and ribs.

Shadows cut under his eyes, his nose, the jut of his lip, illuminated only by the flushed, yellow light of the lamp beside the bed. 

Cot, really. Barely enough space in it to fit a single person, much less two. How he manages to squeeze inside the tiny slip of a mattress makes you question everything you know about physics and spatial mathematics.

Though—

"That's it, mm," he rasps, words slurred and muffled around the cigar in his mouth. His hands are firebrands on your breasts, where they settle hot and firm, rough palm grazing your hard nipples. "Just like that, dove. Take me in—all of it, yeah? Want to feel your cunt around all of me."

—there really isn't any room in your head for complex queries when you're sat on your captain's cock, pussy pulsing around him all the way to the root. 

He knocks all logic from your head with a soft flex of his hips, cockhead nudging something inside of you that has you reeling through samsara. 

You can't stop the whine from spilling out—high-pitched and breathless—when he shifts like that, grinding his fat cock against your gummy walls. 

"C—captain—," you mewl, nails digging into the coarse auburn covering his chest. Your hips gyrate over his groin, seeking more of that delicious stretch, that blistering press of him splitting you apart. 

"Shush, shush," he coos, his hand falling away from your swaying chest to wrap around the body of the cigar. The tip burns red; the heavy scent of sex and tobacco permeate the tense atmosphere between you.

His other hand stays, and slides down until your nipple is caught between his thumb and forefinger. A pinch of his fingers sends a ripple of pleasure-pain shuddering down to your core. You keen at the sting, the bliss.

"Gotta be quiet, love. Want them to come in, and see you like this? Bouncin' on your captain's cock like you're desperate for it? And you are, aren't you? So fuckin' greedy for it."

"Fuck, sir—"

His groan is filthy around the butt of the cigar when your cunt flutters at the notion. The idea of being watched while your aching cunt takes him to the base.

"What a slut you are," he teases, slurred and gruff, words thinning out around a pull of smoke. "Want them to see how pretty you look on top of me, eh?"

He bites down on the end of the cigar, his hand falling away to reach behind you. Your mouth opens—pleas, apologies on your tongue; but it's stifled by a loud whine when the flat of his palm slaps across the meat of your ass. The sharp crack of his hand hitting you sends a gyre of pleasure roiling through your core.

Your belly flutters; molten heat spumes at the sting. It's too much, it hurts, and—

You want more.

"Please—;" the word is choked, bitten off when he slides his hand up, fingers dancing between each knob of your spine. The other tugs on your nipple until your back arches for him.

"Come on, pretty thing." He purrs, eyes lidded and burning. A veil of smoke congeals in the air between you when he breathes out. "Like I'd let anyone see you like this. This—;" his teeth dig into the cigar, hips canting up into your pussy. "—is all mine, love."

You don't know how he expects you to last with his thumb brushing over your nipple, his cock battering the plug of your womb with each fervid grind of your hips. Each soft bounce sends you spiralling closer and closer to the edge, to that white-hot haze of euphoria that splits your head down the centre until all you can feel is the swell of his cock in your cunt; his full, heavy balls slapping against your ass each time you sit fully on him, taking him to the base where he's the thickest, where he throbs like a heartbeat. It's too much, too much—

He hums low in his chest. The noise ripples through your palms, desperately scrambling for purchase on his slick, broad chest. It should have been a warning, but you're too far gone, too blissed from the way his liquid sapphire gaze threatens to flay you alive; the wide arsenic white of his eyes boring into you, watching you fall apart at the seams with each plunge of him inside of your pussy. 

"Fuck—oh, fuck—captain—I'm… I'm gonna cum—"

Heat sears into your throat. Your tremulous words are cut in the middle when his hand slides up, palm pressed flat against your jugular. His thumb strokes your jaw gently, a dizzying contrast to the unyielding, solid grip he has on your neck. His thick, tobacco-stained fingers wrap taut around the delicate, fragile, curve of your throat, nearly spanning the entirety of it. If he wanted to, you think, a touch delirious, hysterical: he might be able to touch his index and thumb at the base of your skull.

Your inhale is shaky; a quivering gasp that edges on instability. You feel yourself being pulled deeper and deeper into those pits that sear into you.

A burning ache throbs inside of your belly; a coil pulling tighter and tighter with each press of your groins, his cock filling you deeper than you'd thought possible, the unruly auburn hair around the base of his cock grazing your clit. Your core tenses. Cunt spasming around him when he squeezes his hand, the air choked from your esophagus. 

"Look at you," he drawls, nearly slurring the words around the end of his cigar. He pulls in another mouthful of smoke, eyes gleaming aquamarine in the dim light. "Such a pretty fuckin' sight you make, don't you, love."

All you can see is liquid blue. A spark of ochre from the end of his cigar. Your vision fades, blurring around the edges. He's not choking you, just holding steady, firm, but it's everything: his voice, his touch, that stupid cigar wrapped around those lips—

"C—captain—"

"Go on, then." He settles back into the pillow, hand still wrapped around your throat. His eyes bore into yours; a whirlpool cuts through the sea—dark and dizzying. "I want this pretty little cunt to cum around my cock, mm." He rumbles. His hand flexes, shifts, until his thumb is pressed to the seam of your lips. His eyes darken. "And then when you're finished, I want you on your hands and knees. I'm gonna fill you up, nice and proper, yeah?"

All you can do is whimper his name, and try not to slip inside those frothing waters that threaten to drag you under. A swirling vortex of want; pleasure. You burn under his heavy gaze. Feel the heat of his cigar scorching your skin. 

“Oh,” he adds, blowing out a plume of white against your skin when you shudder on top of him, nails biting into his skin. Smoke rings curl around his words. His voice is hushed. Quiet. The lilt an unbreakable command. “Better not make me drop my cigar, love. Or there will be trouble.”

[binsito]

disk 2.0

part one is here!

pairing: bf!bang chan x fem reader x perv!changbin

word count: 3.0k (my longest fic this far AGhhh)

synopsis: changbin knows he should return what he wrongfully stole but he can't help but want to steal another one of chris' cds..

rating: mature, includes: unprotected sex, swearing, usage of the word "cockslut", "daddy", "babygirl", "good girl", "princess", "sweetie", mentions of masturbating, some fingering (f receiving), mentions of alcohol and consumption (they just crack open a cold one), little bit of oral (f & m receiving), breeding, chan is sharing his gf with changbin, filming/usage of a camera, voyeurism/exhibitionism dynamics, cuckolding lowkey??, degradation, humiliation, shame.. i think that's it but idk man they be fuckin!

put the cd back.

simple.

that's all changbin had to do.

put the cd back and act like nothing ever happened, like he didn't watch chris fuck the shit out of his girlfriend.

like he didn't see her puffy cunt ooze with his cum, like he didn't hear the pretty moans she let out for her "daddy", like he didn't see chris bring his heavy hand to her ass cheek, marking her so prettily as he pumped into her from behind with his thick cock.

chris would never know a thing, would never even notice the cd was gone in the first place, changbin was going to toss it back where he found it and take this little secret with him to the grave.

it seemed so easy.

it almost made changbin giggle how fucking effortless it was going to be.

absolutely fool-proof.

he was getting away with such a sneaky little deed, if it was this easy, why didn't he just take another? channie had so many.. he had probably forgotten about them anyways.. they were thrown in a box so carelessly, for god's sake. it wouldn't hurt to just take another..

he had to control the twitching in his cock as he walked into chris' apartment, disk buried in the pouch of his hoodie as he greeted his friend.

he welcomed him in so casually and changbin couldn't help but stiffen in his pants, tugging his hoodie down discreetly to hide his growing erection.

however, as he carried a conversation with his friend, he felt ashamed, guilt washing over him at all the dirty things he had thought about chris and his girlfriend. he knew he shouldn't take another cd, he should leave them as is and never pull that stunt again but he was far too gone, wasn't he?

if he was going to be a pervert, might as well commit to it, right? he already had his mind set on taking another one, had already imagined what could possibly be on another video and he would be incredibly disappointed if he backed out last minute like a wimp.

so as they started moving the last couple of boxes, changbin was bubbling with excitement knowing he would soon have the opportunity to nab another cd as soon as chris would turn away and give him a second alone.

a second was all he needed.

he wasn't going to be picky, any of the cds from chris' collection would make changbin a very, very happy man.

he would be content with whatever he could get, anything would do.

when chris tells him he's going to the bathroom real quick, changbin has to act like he's not fucking elated, like he almost didn't jump up and cheer.

he had to be cool.

had to be quick.

discreet.

sneaky.

he waited until chris was out of sight and quickly started looking for the box, however much to his dismay, it was no longer among the other boxes.

it was gone.

chris had probably packed it up already on his own, maybe it was in the truck, maybe he had given them over to his girlfriend?

changbin felt like he could collapse.

his excitement fizzling down to disappointment and frustration.

at least he could keep and rewatch the one he already had but he was just so greedy, he wanted to be nosey and see what else chris was hiding.

dammit. he thought angrily, he was so close, fingertips grazing his sweet little prize only to have it ripped from his hands.

he could cry.

he tried pretending like everything was alright once chris was back, helping him continue to load up the truck and carry all his music equipment safely.

a smile on his face as he chatted with chris while he was internally screaming, wishing chan had left the box out again like he previously had.

"bin, you should come over once i settle in to check out the new place yeah? i'll cook, i know you won't turn that down." chris giggles changbin smiled and nodded "of course man, i'd love to come over." "perfect, next friday yeah? it'll motivate me to actually unpack and get shit organized for a guest."

"sounds good, i'll be there."

--

but what changbin hadn't expected when he came over that friday was for chris to have company.

his pretty girlfriend sitting on the couch with a smile.

you greeted him and gestured for him to sit down. "welcome! how are you? i haven't seen you since that trip we all took over the summer."

changbin tried pushing down any thoughts he was having about you, how pretty you sound talking to him, how much prettier you would sound gagging on some cock.

his cock, preferably.

but you were chris' girlfriend so that would be off limits.

you kept a steady conversation with him as chris came back out from the kitchen, smiling and handing changbin a beer.

"how's the place? you like it? she helped me clean up nicely, got rid of all that dust and shit" he sat next to you, arm around you as he sipped his own beer.

"yeah the place looks great, chris. congrats." changbin smiled at his friend.

"hope you're hungry, we made some delicious pasta from scratch."

"we?" you spoke up and giggled

chan just laughed, knowing he tried to help but just made a mess so instead you had him wash dishes.

"dinner should be ready in about an hour. i prepared dessert too" you spoke up "oh thank you, i knew chan wasn't going to be the one fixing us a meal" changbin joked.

"he's getting better, no more burnt chicken. just needs to clean up after himself and be more careful"

chris just smiled and kissed your forehead softly, he loved you so much. you made him incredibly happy and he loved showing his affection towards you openly, especially around other people.

changbin was no exception.

"baby why don't we put on a movie or something while we wait?" "oh, sure!" you wiggled out of his grip and walked over to the tv, grabbing the remote to turn it on

"i think you'll like this movie bin, not sure if you've seen it yet" chris said

"what movie is it?" he asked but chris just smiled at him, letting the video buffer as you took your seat next to him again.

the video loaded and changbin's eyes widen as soon as he saw what was on the screen. beer almost spilling all over him as he watched you in pretty lingerie that had been carelessly ripped by chris, sprawled out for the camera to take in your wet folds, chris tracing them with a finger as he chuckled behind the camera.

"c-chris- i think- i don't think-" changbin didn't even know what to say, quickly covering his eyes with his one free hand. was chris doing this on purpose? was it an accident? he shouldn't feel turned on, pressing his legs together in hopes to tame the angry boner he had sprung.

"open your eyes binnie.. don't be shy now." chris spoke, his tone strong and a little condescending

"at least tell us if the cd you stole was good.. was it good, binnie? did you cum to it? you must've.. i saw you waiting for me to leave to take another. i hid the box before you came over though.. wanted to catch you. i knew i wasn't crazy when i saw one missing." he giggled so nonchalantly, the humiliation of being caught making changbin's cock pathetically rush with blood.

"channie told me what you did.. so cute.. come on binnie.. tell us how it felt?"

the video played in the background, sounds of your pretty moans filling the silence while changbin struggled to find words to speak.

"i-i'm sorry.." he said weakly "i-i really am i thought it was music b-but it wasn't.. i c-couldn't stop watching.. f-fuck it was just so hot.. i-i'm sorry-"

"don't be sorry, binnie.. you liked it right? hm?" you asked him, smile on your face that was making him squirm in his seat. his eyes shifting from you on the screen full of cock, to you in front of him, crawling into chris' lap. your eyes not leaving changbin's, his mouth salivating at the sight in front of him.

chris gripped a fistful of your ass as he kissed your neck. "you gonna put on a show for our guest babygirl?" chris mumbled into your skin, kneading your ass gently

"you're so sweet baby.. always so welcoming hm? good girl. daddy likes it when you're nice to his friends."

changbin felt his mouth go dry, hands shaking in his lap as he shamefully watched how chris sloppily made out with you in front of him. low grunts leaving his friend's pretty lips as you rubbed down on him.

"come closer binnie.. come look.." you beckoned him over, his feet moving faster than his brain could, quickly leaving behind the alcohol his friend had kindly offered him. he sat right next to the two of you, watching how chris expertly took your shirt off. he wondered how often you two had sex.. a lot right? given by the collection you two had curated.. chris seemed very knowledgeable and quick with his actions, almost as if it was muscle memory. like he trained himself to be able to handle you, like he trained you to be so good and perfect for his cock.

changbin's brain was so fuzzy, eyes scanning your body as chris discarded your clothes, before he knew it you were only in your panties. chris sucking eagerly on your tits while his hands played with the waistband of your underwear.

changbin was dying for a taste, wanted to touch how soft your skin was, wanted to give you goosebumps and tug on your hair and spank you until you cried out for him to stop.

chris had bent you over his lap, ass in changbin's direction so he could get a clear view. pulling your underwear aside so he could see your cunt on display. "see this, bin? she's always so fucking wet. she touched herself when i told her about what you did. came all over her own fingers.. heard her moan your name."

chris held your asscheeks open so changbin could see your pretty hole clenching around nothing "she's a bit of a cockslut.. but nothing i can't handle. look how easy she takes this.."

with that, he pressed two fingers in, your cunt sucking him in just how he knew it would. he pumped them a few times before bringing them out slowly, letting changbin see the slick coating his fingers

"here.. taste. it's the sweetest pussy you'll ever have." chris said as he held out his fingers for changbin to take.

all pride aside, changbin leaned in and took chris' fingers in his mouth, rolling his eyes back at the taste and humming. "good right? told ya so.. such a perfect cunt.." he emphasized his statement with a harsh spank. you whined as you felt chris pull you off his lap in order for him to get undressed. he threw his shirt off and pulled his pants along with his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free.

"can you show binnie how you good you ride daddy's cock, babygirl?"

he didn't have to tell you twice, quickly clambering into his lap again as you lined him up with your aching hole. you pressed down inch by inch, feeling the nice stretch of his cock. changbin's cock was growing impatient, he needed to feel some type of relief even if it was just his fingers. he began tugging his pants down to fist his cock, whimpering at the feeling of finally getting some friction.

"you better not fucking cum, changbin." chris scolded

changbin quickly dropped his hand, not wanting to anger his friend and make him stop.

instead he focused on the pace you had set on chris' cock, how your tits bounced with every movement, the concentrated look on your face and the way you bit your lip whenever you hit a spot that felt so good. the way you dug your fingers into chris' shoulders, how he guided you with his rough hands, his curly hair beginning to stick to his forehead.

all that alone could make changbin cum untouched.

chris trailed a hand down to where you connected, rubbing your clit to help you build up an orgasm, his other hand reached for your hair as he tugged your head back, barring your neck for him to leave a love bite.

the room echoed with noises from the video that was still playing in the background alongside your sweet whimpers as chris worked you up.

all music to changbin's ears.

it was too much for you, having chris touch you and changbin watching you come apart, your orgasm ripping through you as you chanted chris' name.

you tried collecting yourself, calming your breathing as you pulled off chris' cock but your legs felt like jelly so he helped you and gently set you besides him.

he had stood up and opened up a drawer underneath the tv, pulling out his camera and setting it on the table in front of everyone. "hope you aren't camera shy, binnie." he teased

--

once chris had finally set up the camera exactly how he wanted, he decided it was finally time to let changbin have a turn. he was his guest after all and chris always made sure his guests were comfortable and taken care of in his home.

"how do you want me binnie? tell me, sweetie.. i wanna please you.." you purred

you'd be lying if you said you weren't excited to have him inside, his cock looked delicious.. thick and so hard.. poor thing must've been struggling, his cock throbbing for attention. chris could be such a meanie.

"c-can.. can i.. taste you? want you on my face.." he said shyly

you tugged him down on the couch, having him lay beneath you as you positioned yourself on his face, caging him in.

as soon as his eyes met your pretty cunt, he was gone.

all the shame and humiliation he once felt (even if it had turned him on so badly), had completely vanished.

he was hungry.

he held you open, licking up a long strip up your cunt before he began to suck on your clit.

he was making you shake, arms feeling so wobbly as you held on to his thighs to prevent yourself from toppling over.

"oh god channie.. he's so good with is tongue.." you whimpered, kicking your head back as you let out a whiny moan.

"i think he likes the dessert you prepared for him, princess." chris teased.

you leaned forward to take changbin's tip in your mouth, sucking just harsh enough for him to buck his hips up at the pressure.

chris grabbed the camera and brought it towards you, filming the way you began to bob your head on changbin's cock. he gripped you by the hair and tugged you off, spit connecting you the the tip of changbin's cock.

"you like being a slut with binnie? like having fun with two cocks?"

you could barely even answer as you felt changbin working you up to your second orgasm, chris gripped your hair tighter to make you focus.

"can't even fucking think straight.. so damn cock hungry.." he spat

"binnie, why don't you give her what she wants hm? why don't you you fuck her nice and dumb for me?"

he pulled away from your sopping cunt, giving you a few hasty licks before chan set down the camera, grabbing you and positioning you on your hands and knees over the arm rest.

"she's all yours, binnie. take good care of that cunt for me."

chris watched as changbin lined himself up, gripping on to your hips as he rubbed his tip against your folds.

your back arched when you felt him breech your hole, his thick cock easily pushing its way inside of you, pressing so deeply it kissed your sweet spot perfectly. you felt so fucking full of him already and you were glad he was going to put that fat cock of his to good use.

he had to concentrate hard to not bust right away, your cunt wrapping around his length so good, he thought he was seeing stars.

he set a steady pace, breathing heavily as he watched his cock sink in and out of you, a ring of cream forming against his base.

"fucking like bunnies.. so cute.." chan groaned as he stroked himself to the sight of his girlfriend being treated so nicely by changbin.

"s-shit.. chris.. where do you want me to cum? i-i think i might soon.." changbin whimpered

"keep it inside of her.'

changbin swore he was having another vivid wet dream.

inside?

chris wanted him to cum inside his girlfriend?

chris wanted him to fill her with his seed?

breed her and leave her stuffed full of him?

changbin closed his eyes tightly, it didn't matter how hard he tried to clear his head and focus, he was a weak, weak man.

"i'm close too, binnie.. touch me.. wanna cum with you.." you pleaded.

he took a shaky breath as he pressed his chest flush against your back, allowing him easier access to reach over and rub your clit.

his thrusts becoming sloppy as he bit into your shoulder to ground himself. he could feel you clenching on him, consistent moans leaving your lips as you got closer and closer to your peak.

it wasn't long before you turned into putty underneath him, cumming with his name on your tongue which was enough to make him shoot out as well. he kept still making sure every drop seeped into you and did not got to waste.

he kissed your shoulder gently before he carefully pulled out as to not spill on chris' couch.

"stay still babygirl.. daddy wants to fuck binnie's cum into you. make sure it stays in you real good, kay?"

this would not be the last time changbin would make a cameo in chris' homemade sex tapes.

unfortunately, it came at the expense of dinner being ruined that night due to negligence. blame it on changbin and his horny antics.

please refrain from reposting, modifying, translating, copying or stealing my work. - © binsito

[g0ldenbritney]

TATE LANGDON ABCS (sfw)꧂

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN🎃..sorry i skipped some letters im a lazy bitch

A = Affection

physical touch for sure, playing with your hair, holding your hand (or holding pinky fingers because thats cutesy as fuck), kissing cheeks and noses (im a SUCKAA for nose kisses and so is he<3). Im just imagining you leaning in to kiss his nose, but he thought you were leaning in for a lip kiss, and it ends up being kinda awkward and you bump into eachother😭😭. Tbh i can’t see him being great at communication especially because he’s a literal teenage boy but though he might now be able to say it he can definitely show it with acts of service like helping with chores

You were at school, trying to focus on your worksheets and actually listening to the teacher speak about..whatever she was teaching, all you can think about is getting back home and all the homework and fuckin chores you had awaiting for you.

once you did get home, you opened the front door and you could smell how good the house smelt, on more exploration the entire house was cleaned and all your chores were done. You walked into your room and your homework was completed on your desk..i mean all the answers were wrong but its the thought that counts.

B = Best friend

Im going with alive Tate for this, I have a mood board on Pinterest for this!! (adrienjoyer)

Sharing cigarettes, sharing cds, sharing shoes, sharing clothes, FREE RAIN OF HIS STUFF. He will let you have anything, need a pencil in class…actually he doesn’t have one either but he will scavenge around for one—and if he only finds one? It’s *our* pencil now. (i need to smack that mans ass on the stairs) (i do that to all my friends) Oh? You have 10 bucks? Well he has 7…that mean its OUR 17 dollars to spend on pizza

(based on a scenario that actually happened to me LMAO 😭😭)

It was late at night, you both were hanging out at your house and it was like 2am, suddenly you both have the craving for pizza..you both counted your cash and quarters, you had 13 bucks in total so you thought a small pizza would fine..yeah no. Tate called up the local Pizza Hut and ordered a small pizza with nothing but cheese and pepperoni and it was 22 FUCKING DOLLARS?? And so you both ran around the house looking for quarters…

you ended up paying the money in quarters to that poor pizza delivery girl at 2am.

C = Cuddles

Depends on how he’s feeling tbh, i can see him as a chest layer. Lying on your chest as you stroke his hair, or the other way around he would be just fine with that as well.

D = Domestic

OF COURSE!! I can see him totally wanting that but like..not till he’s like 30. He wants to do all this stuff first before he settled down, but he definitely wouldn’t mind a partner..some kids, a dog maybe. He’s pretty good at cooking, if you count Kraft mac and cheese and grilled cheese or really anything with cheese.. (the man likes cheese what can i say) and he REFUSES to use a dishwasher, he will be washing dishes old style and you cant stop him.

E = Ending

no.

G = Gentle

Sometimes he might go to far, if you two are just friends and hes joking around and he actually hurts your feelings he would squeeze your shoulder and tell you a quick “sorry.” And it usually makes you feel better. He is very gentle with you when you’re having a bad day maybe just upset or stressed about exams he will maybe rub your shoulders or something and maybe get you to laugh to calm your nerves. If you are in a good mood, hes still gentle, holding you, holding your hands, being careful.

H = Hugs

He loves them!! I dont even care what you have to say or as much as he tries to push you off when you hug him he LOVES HUGS. If you two are just friends and you hug him he might be a little hesitant but he will hug you loosely back. This is totally pointed towards me because im very physically affectionate with my friends and hug them after school everyday, if you, like me, run up to him at his locker and basically throw yourself at him he will laugh and let you hug him and yap. If you’re dating and you hug him he will definitely hug you back and kiss your head :)

I = I love you

He thinks the whole “3 month rule” is bs. He’ll say that shit whenever he wants to. If he wants to say “I love you” immediately after you starting dating god damnit it will happen!!! He definitely says he loves you if you’re just friends to

J = Jealousy

Actual jealous baby

Im just imagining someone flirting with you in class do you immediately tell him as soon as you can because you tell him everything and he genuinely TWEAKS THE FUCK OUTTT, like hes actually geeked

like wdym someone else might have a little crush on you…NO. That person will become his biggest opp and you are told to stay away.

You were in 1st hour and you were assigned partners, luckily you knew the person you were assigned with thought they were a little strange…but they started subtly flirting you. They said sorry for being awkward and they “get nervous around people like you” which sounded like a flirt to you

so when you got to lunch, you immediately told Tate, he literally could run to that kids class right now and fight but he just whips his head around at you

“I hated that guy anyway…stupid.”

K = Kisses

Can range from sweet little ones to full blown makeouts hickeys..he prefers sweet ones on the face in the daylight but at night this man is freaky asf. His kisses are soft and slow but he can be a bit quicker if you really want him to

Q = Quizzes

he had a notebook for stuff about you, if you accidentally drop a little fun fact about you he will know about it and he will write it down, ranging from your favorite juice or if you have a mole under your jaw. He knows it all. If he ever forgot anything and i mean ANYTHING about you I dont think he would forgive himself

T = Try

Tbh i dont think he would put a lot of effort in, he just likes to be around you. (Though the mcdonalds dates are FIRE.) he likes having sleepovers with you at tour house only, watching movies, eating snacks till you feel ill, cuddling, if you’re down to get Applebees that would be even better and you would both ask the waiter for the gummy sharks in your sweet drinks separately (yes ive done that before). But if you really really wanted anice romantic date maybe he would give you flowers or something

U = Ugly

Nail biting (you put bandaids over his nails so he’ll stop :)), excessive social media usage (this guys is chronically online holly shit freaking 4chan user), ive always imagined him little tics, like twitching when hes anxious.

X = Xtra

i want to bake him a cake

Z = Zzz

THIS MAN CAN NEVER SLEEP ISTG

he tosses and turns but no matter what he cant sleep without you or if you give him a stuffed animal

OHH MY GODD IF YOU GIVE HIM A STUFFED ANIMAL I CANT

imagine him holding and cuddling it, and i know this doesnt relate to sleep but imagine him being all sad and crying into it because it reminds him of you😭

[t0rturedangel]

can i have some yandere!Vox using his mind control powers on the reader??

╭ . . . 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚗𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 ੭

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄-𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 ! 𝐕𝐎𝐗 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

♰ ৎ﹕𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩, 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦

WOOO VOX STUFF, ngl vox is my favorite out of the three vees (idk much abt velvette and i fucking HATE valentino)

✧⠀⨾ the only way he'd ever hypnotize you was if you dared to leave him- i mean who would leave him HIM?? the cool, chill guy Vox, the guy who anyone can trust with their stuff? How could you, in the name of lucifer himself, dare to leave just like that?

✧⠀⨾ you used some lame excuses too, "oh you're scaring me!" "This isnt healthy or alright in the slightest" like seriously? that's not even that serious! all he wants is for you to stay with him. BY HIM. that's all he's asking, is it too much?

✧⠀⨾ fuckin must be, since now you're sobbing and grabbing bunches of clothes- throwing them into a small, very pathetic suitcase so you'd have something when you ran away.

✧⠀⨾ you see, now, now you've went too far- now vox has to step in, which will not be good for anyone.

Through tears in your eyes you grabbed even more clothes, stuffing them all into your [ favorite coloured ] suitcase, occasionally blinking tears away or rubbing them off of your face. Vox went mad, he was always weird to you during the later period of your relationship- always too touchy and manic, too close to you. Yes, the two of you were dating, and everyone thought it was fine- you and vox were happy together. That was true, at least at the start of this twisted relationship, Vox genuinely seemed to care, to love you and would never dare to hurt you, he said so himself.

Yet, recently he's been acting so off- so wrong. Before he was kind, gentle, never forced you to do anything you didn't want to, but now? Lucifer, what happened to him? What happened to that man that you cared and loved so much, what infected his mind? You ,it seemed, were the answer- he changed because of you of how much he "loves" you. he hates seeing other sinners get too close to you- his precious angel- one who should be untouched by the filth of imps and lower sinners, he even went as far as to ban you from seeing the other vees (who you grew decently close to, earning their respect), he seemed to adore the fact that he controlled every aspect of your life and that you failed to notice it at first, too blinded by your love for him, for everything he did for you before the relationship became official- it was so foreign to see him like that now that you knew, that you've opened your eyes and saw the true intent of his actions, now you're scared, horrified.

Through your hysterics, as Vox labeled them when you first began to cry over all of this, you failed to notice that very same 'boyfriend' (you cringed at calling him that, that thing was not your boyfriend- was it ever your boyfriend?) standing in the door frame, his screen glitching with annoyance and screeching out quiet static noises that seemed for familiar yet so eerie, and his eye wider than the other- a beautiful black swirl dancing around on a red background, such an entrancing sight ❝ babe. ❞ you heard his voice, so distorted and full of displeasure making you shrieked out of almost pure instinct and turned your body so fast you almost has whiplash- eyes wide at the sight of Vox, a horror engraved into your [eye colour] irises . Your body began to tremble it felt almost natural to fear Vox, of what he'd do- he want others to imagine him as this stupid cool guy, who has not a care in the world but you knew what he was truly like. you knew what he was, what he said, what he felt about the other desperate sinners.

❝ go away vox- im not your 'babe' im leaving❞ it was barely above a whisper but sounded so loud in your head, so very loud. That one sentence could have leaft you deaf, you wish it did- wishing it left you deaf and blind so you didnt have to hear his voice, coated in an artificial love, dripping with his real poisonous intent, or see his face- that face you loved to see plastered around the pride ring, the face that now glared at you. ❝ Dont be like that [name]- you know you're my [girlfriend/boyfriend/lover] you cant leave me ❞ his voice, still laced with that distortion didn't register in your head, it's like you didn't even hear it- like you really went deaf.

you could hear his steps echo through the room and that confidences you held a meer second ago- drained from your stature immediately. A fear washed over you, overwhelming your body... Millions of questions raced through your tormented mind all desperate to be your sole focul. „ what will he do? ” „will he kill me? Torture me? Sell me off to some beggar?”

Those questions, such meaningless questions you thought, will never be answered. Though do not fear, Vox cherishes you too much to allow you to be in harm's way of anyone else- he just loves you so much, so much so that he'll forgive this silly little attitude of yours just this once: next time he won't be as forgiving. Though, in all his honesty there won't ever be a 'next time' and all he needed to prevent this was for you to look at his eyes, to just give him one glimpse, it's like deja vu for you ist it? What were you thinking? Those fears, those worries and silly little thoughts of leaving him should have never been thought in the first place, oh how could you be so horrible to think that your loving boyfriend Vox would EVER be so controlling and terrible? My dear, Vox only wants what's best for you, and whats best for you if to stay with him! That's all you need to do, he'll do all the hard work, he'll get his hands dirty, he'll protect you. No one else can do what he does, no other overlord, no other vee, no sinner, not even Lucifer himself can keep you safe like how he can.

after all, he just loves you too much to let you leave, and why would you? being with him had never been better. Though now Vox re-thinks letting you think for yourself again, after all last time he did you wanted to leave.

That cannot happen again. NEVER again.

[omensandwonders]

filthy thoughts about the eepy boys

im in a whole other universe of down horrendous after FINALLY seeing the boys live (well, II and Ves (im crying)) so... this is my outlet. youre welcome and/ or im sorry

warnings: pure filth

vessel:

♤ a munch and a yapper, idc

♤ only time this man shuts up is when his head's buried between your legs and even that's loud, with the way he's groaning into your cunt

♤ eats like he will never see another woman again after this, hands grabbing everywhere he can reach - thighs, ass, stomach, waist.

♤ often uses both tongue and fingers, either fucking his fingers into you while sucking your clit or rubbing tight circles on your clit with his thumb while he's tongue fucking you

♤ mans is hung (we all know it) so he will absolutely make you cum at least three times with his fingers and tongue before giving you his dick

♤ when he does, he's so vocal, groans and whines leaving his throat completely unrestrained

♤ forgets how strong he is, often leaving your thighs, hips and waist bruised

♤ STAMINA.

♤ youre not done until hes done

♤ filthy mouth on that one i tell you

♤ now i also see vessel being more dominant and calculating, but... more on that later if yall want that (👀?)

♤ all im sayin... i think hes the most dominant of all of them... his hand + your throat =mmdjxjisjs (also *cough* spit kink *cough*)

"o-oh my god, darlin', squeezin' me so good- j-just like that, such a good girl for me, takin' it so well-"

"so tight, feels soo good my love, j-just one more for me-"

II:

♤ suddenly my ass is a drum

♤ would it be too on the nose to say he's an ass man who loveeees spanking? actually this is my post so IDC IM SAYIN IT

♤ ass man who loves spanking

♤ impact play in general i dare say

♤ mean slaps whenever you least expect them, wherever you least expect them - face, pussy, ass - he loves your reaction

♤ but can you blame him? you look so pretty looking up at him with those hazy, tear-filled eyes

♤ now vessel gets mean and rough just cause he's desperate. II gets mean and rough because he wants to wreck you. very different motivations there (though im a firm believer that ves has his mean streaks too)

♤ you've been misbehaving? have fun riding him with your hands tied and his hand around your throat. doesnt matter how bad your thighs hurt, he's not helping. also, youre not cumming

♤ loves fucking you face down ass up, with a hand on the back of your head or back of your neck to keep you pinned down

♤ edging ‼️ overstim ‼️ pain ‼️ degradation ‼️ thank you for coming to my ted talk

"you've been nothing but a slut all fuckin' day, throwin' yourself at Ive like that, and you think i'll let you cum? nah, fuck that. you got about another half an hour in you before that, if at all"

"such a pretty lil' bitch for me, crying on my dick like that. you like it when i hurt you? like it when i slap this fuckin pussy?"

"so dramatic, that was only your fourth orgasm. you got at least three more in you"

III:

♤ say it with me now, MESSY

♤ i think III is similar to ves' desperate side, but... more

♤ more desperate, more subby, more whiny, more drooly

♤ will beg. god knows for what but sure it's hot so why the hell would you stop him

♤ sometimes he gets so lost in it his thrusts get uncoordinated

♤ so sloppy, rutting into you like a dog in heat

♤ i could imagine a threesome between you, III and ves... where ves is the one in charge

♤ sitting on a chair next to the bed, running his mouth while III basically sobs while pumping into you

♤ god, he cums so much

♤ absolute loads

♤ idk if this is a hot take or not but possibly the subbiest of the boys?? though i still dont see him as a FULL on sub, maybe a switch? idek i feel like he could go either way

"oooh my fuckin' god doll, so good to me, so fuckin' good- feels so good- 'm gonna cum, cum inside that sweet pussy-"

"love you so much just- just lemme please- just the tip baby-"

"if you don't suck my dick right now i'm gonna lose my mind-"

IV:

♤ also one i see as being dominant

♤ such. a fucking. tease. lord help us all.

♤ learns how to play your body like a fuckin instrument within days, gets you sobbing and pleading within minutes

♤ after what feels like hours of teasing you - toying with and biting your nipples, leaving hickeys all over, touching everywhere but where you need him most - he finally gives in and fingers you and you swear to god you see stars

♤ we all know this man can use his fingers, the way he plays guitar. to him, your body is the most beautiful instrument and he'll be fuckin damned if he can't master it

♤ when he fucks you, he's so rough, all filthy words in your ear as his thick dick drags against your walls

♤ sigh, a biter

♤ leaves bite marks all over you

♤ not satisfied until youre sobbing and trembling beneath him, globs of his cum leaking out of your abused cunt (wrap it before you tap it)

♤ god help you when he discovers remote controlled vibrators

"so drunk on my dick, aren't ya love? that's okay. i'm takin' care or you, don't need to think anymore, just keep those legs nice and open for me"

"can't remember your own name, can ya, love? that's okay, only gotta know mine"

"good fuckin' girl, always so wet and ready for me..."

did i mention that i think they all share a HEAVY breeding kink? no? oops

[catgrassplantdad]

the scratches on ian's back are as frequent as the hickeys on mickey's neck 🤭 (he looks like he's been fighting cats)

The spray of the shower has Ian wincing, the hot water on his back making what was just a dull sting before now feel like fire across his skin.

He hisses and steps out of the spray, deciding to stick to perfunctorily washing only what's necessary for now. He's surprised Mickey decided against joining him in here. They'd both gotten pretty gross this afternoon. Everything that's dried and gotten tacky in Ian's pubes alone...he can't imagine how Mickey must be feeling right now.

When he's finished and drying himself off, touching the towel to the skin of his back feels like torture, and he whips it away only to find...blood? On one of their nice, new white towels?

He steps out of the bathtub and twists and turns in front of the mirror, trying to figure out what's going on. He's shocked to find a war zone on his back, scrapes and scratches much deeper and more numerous than he'd realized, swooping down and curving across his ribs.

"What the fuck? What the fucking...Mickey!"

He stomps out of the bathroom in search of the perpetrator of his grievous injuries, and unsurprisingly he finds him still in bed, naked and splayed and playing around on his phone.

"What." Mickey doesn't look up.

"Look what you did to me!" Ian turns around, presenting Mickey with his handiwork. "Put your phone down, asshole."

Mickey rolls his eyes and glances up over the top of his phone. He's fully floored by what he finds before him, shocked that this wasn't just a case of Ian being unnecessarily dramatic. "Jesus, what happened?!" He tosses his phone aside. "Are you bleeding? Get over here."

"You happened! Fuck, it hurts. It didn't hurt before, it hurts now. Is it real bad?"

"No, it's..." Mickey sits up and gestures for Ian to come closer. Ian backs up towards him so Mickey can get a good look. "Man... Okay, yeah, I did a number on ya."

"Could you clean it up?" Ian asks, turning around to face him. "Just like get some neosporin or something- What the fuck! What did I do to you!?"

"What!? What!?" Mickey frantically looks down at himself, touching his hands to his body to find that everything is apparently intact.

"Your neck!" Ian grabs his head to steady him, getting in close to inspect his own handiwork. "Oh my god, you can't go to work like this. I'll get arrested. They'll think I'm beating you."

"What the fuck did you do?" Mickey helplessly lets Ian tilt his head from side to side, allowing him his fretful inspection.

"Hickeys."

"Just fuckin' hickeys?"

"Mick, there's so many of them. What's wrong with me." He finally releases Mickey's head, sitting beside him and looking closely. "It's like I was trying to eat you."

"Well, yeah."

"And like you were trying to skin me alive, you freak."

"Okay, let's not-"

"We gotta chill out."

"No! What!? Ian, it was hot. Look, we'll clean up, I'll fuckin'...uh..."

"Wear a scarf to work."

Mickey fixes him with a look. "Fine," he deadpans. "You're lucky it's cold enough for that shit."

"A turtleneck under the camo. And the scarf."

"You need to calm the fuck down. It's not that bad."

Before Ian could pitch his protest, Mickey climbs onto his husband's lap, sitting astride him.

"I just showered and you're disgusting."

"Look," Mickey says, ignoring him. "I'm sorry I scratched you up. You were just getting me so good, you know?" He turns his voice teasing, his hand finding Ian's jaw to hold him in place and effectively distract him from his pique. "Like, really fuckin' good. Crazy good. Hittin' that spot." Lowers his voice, gets even closer. "Over and over. Didn't know what I was doing. And you just..."

"Couldn't help myself," Ian says, smiling, nosing up under Mickey's jaw, lips finding his neck. "Taste so good."

"Yeah..."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Mickey sighs, smiling, dropping his head back. "Just fuck me again."

"Don't wanna hurt you," Ian says as he lowers Mickey to the bed and gets over him. Fuck, it's almost too easy. Mickey grins wildly.

"Not even a little?"

"Maybe a little," Ian relents, kissing along Mickey's neck, across his shoulder. "Just don't touch my back."

"No promises."

[matchadobo]

KIDD; hockey player kidd x figure skater reader

summary: title says it all

warning/s: none, very fluff, gn reader

* thinking about hockey player kidd who's been exceling since high school as that athlete kid and figure skater name that was also unstoppable in ice.

* kidd is an absolute monster at the rink, as aggressive as hockey players are; kidd was perfectly suited to this. the team's ace and is totally the most jackass member; nobody can say shit about it because he carries the team. he's a good team captain but not a good senpai, he'd enjoy making the rookies suffer and would entirely destroy them at initiation, he says it'll only make them stronger

* just imagine kidd in a jersey 😩 that big angry man who's as pale as snow with his fiery red hair standing out in the rink. would probably have 1 as the jersey no. cuz he boastful like that. and oooooh when he raises his jersey to wipe off cold sweat during practice and that sculpted fucking body just oooooh

* you know i fight fire with fire so figure skater name who has the same amount of feist, skill, and stature in the field minus the arrogance

* so when you and him met, imagine the absolute pandemonium. it'll happen on one winter olympics where the only thing you two agree about is how each other ticks you off. you two'll meet at the bleachers by the rink because you both plan on using it at that time

* "got here first." he'll say, tone assertive as he fixes up his shoes. "and?" you'd reply walking closer to him with both hands on your jacket pockets. "i, will be using the rink. and you, should go." he wouldn't budge, would instead stand up and try intimidate you. "nah," you'd clicked your tongue, taking off your jacket. "don't wanna. you don't even own the place." you left your stuff by the bleachers to enter the rink and left him fuming

* he'd then watch you on your competitions to get to know the jackass who messed with him.

* "since when were you interested in figure skating?" killer would ask and he'd receive a glare from the other. "was just checkin' if the rink is big enough." then he'd leave 🤣 killer will look at the screen and immediately knew why kidd was acting like that

* since then, you two will somehow bump into each other a whole lot. and each time you two see each other, kidd would either avoid you or scowl at you. that's why your impression of him was really, really bad. you thought of him as a local athlete asshole.

* so when his match finally came and you were there to watch him, you saw how much of a different person he was. he was his team's ace and captain. how he carries himself in the ice was reason enough why he was the captain. you studied him thoroughly: no matter the vulgar shit that comes out of his mouth with all the curses and insults, he radiated an attractive kind of leadership. his kouhais and mates listened to him and once the game plays out, next thing you know they're winning. his kouhais looked at him with much admiration, and it looks like you are too.

* when the game finished and you went outside to get some food and to your surprise, he was buying the same burgers you were eyeing.

* "i swear, you're following me aren't you?" kidd barked, clicking his tongue. "i'll have you know that i'm a regular here. if anything, you're the one following me." you rolled your eyes, fishing out money from your wallet. "tch, i better fuckin' leave then." he started walking away as you waited for your food. "h-hey wait," you called out, contemplating if you should continue. "congrats on winning, you were pretty cool back there."

* he'd scowl again, start to blush profusely as red as his hair, and leave 😭 you'd be kinda hurt but what else can you do about it? he started avoiding you since then

* little did you know he'd be watching you at your next match at the farthest top of the bleachers just so no one would know. kil would 🤪

* kidd would be so in love with how you move, would go crazy about the fact that you two shared a rink to victory. he never appreciated artsy and dramatic shit and that's exactly what youwere doing, but you might've just change that. as someone who would only be interested in aggressive cool shit, this was a first for him. he'd watch you earnestly: how your expressions change, the shape of you, or how your body twists and dances gracefully on ice. he wouldn't be able to sleep that night especially on what you told him after his match.

* so he visited the rink once more to clear his head and figured he might see you there again, in a very unlikely chance he did see you. he figured you seem to be practicing for finals. "it's midnight." he'd greet you, his deep voice echoing in the hall. "yeah. and you're here." you stopped, skating towards the bleachers. "gotta practice for finals too?" you added. "nope, don't need to." arrogance once more, it pissed you off but now you're amused. "of course you don't," you smiled. "then what're you doing here? you must be tired from today, right?"

* he'd take a while to answer, as if thinking if he should honestly answer. kidd would always speak his mind, he was blunt and that's what he was known for. so right now, as the glass of the rink was separating the both of you in the cold ambience of midnight, he was too lost in you to think properly. he'd just brush you off and say, "'s none of your damn business. i can't sleep, maybe the ice'd fuckin' help." he dismissed, crossing his arms and looking the other way.

* so an idea popped in your head, "if you wanna take your mind off of something, maybe skating would help. go put on some skates." you skated away, continuing on your practice. not thinking about if he'd ignore you or agree. he gave no response but left, it saddened you a little

* only that he returned and is now skating with you with a mild blush on his cheeks, he said it's due to the cold and a pale ass like him becomes red as hell in those times 🥺😞. playful insults turn into snippets of your backstories then into little things about each other as you both glide across the ice. he can speak normally without insults after all.

* you two didn't mind the time at all, nor the press camping out the venue catching some pictures of your little adventures with the scotland's hockey team captain as you two snag foods from 24hour food places within the vicinity. nor does kidd give a fuck about the articles that resurfaced the next day about the rumored relationship with you

* "so you two hit it off, huh?" your coach asked you and his teammates interrogated him. you two just dismissed them with flushed red cheeks.

* after the olympics, you two didn't even try to hide the fact that you are going on dates.

[newcomernewcums]

Your last konig rb….imagining him in the sex pollen fic….reader would die right there

König is a big man. Imposing at all times no matter how hard he tries to shrink himself. Its not that he’s not careful, holding back most times, aware of his strength, its just that he’s fuckin clumsy. Do you know how many pairs of glasses that man has acidentally snapped in his hand? how many times he’s closed the door just a tad too hard and broken the hinges?

He would be absolutely terrified if he got ‘pollened.’ You’d have to spend a good chunk of time calming him down from a panic attack, whispering in his ear how good he is, how much you trust him, how the two of you are going to get through this together. He’d refuse to touch you, flinching away from your hand on his cheek, hands balled tightly into fists because he’s so scared of what he’d do if he could reach for you.

Even as he slips deeper into hysteria, the only thought in his mind is how he can’t touch you. If he touches you, you get hurt. It’s been the only constant in his life, the reason he joined the army in the first place. Even as his dick aches to the point of being painful, even as you also slip, begin to beg him to touch you, pull your clothes off because you’re too fucking hot I can’t make it stop König, please, he keeps his eyes on the ground, trembling as he tries to ignore the sloppy, wet sounds of you touching yourself.

He only gives in when you start sobbing, fat tears dripping down your face and onto the floor as you realize he’d rather die than touch you, that he probably will die and you’ll never get to feel him against you. Only then would he break, and only by a hair, forcing you to tie him to the chair he’s on, hands securely around the back. He would check the restraints, asking you to re-knot them multiple times, trying not to glance at your ass as you bend over to undo them, cock leaking the whole time.

He’d never tell you how much he enjoyed you having your way with him, riding him with abandon while all he could do is watch you bounce up and down.

He blames how quickly he cums on the pollen.

[oh-no-its-bird]

Found this comment on a video talking ab AI chat bots,

made me start thinking ab a tobimada au told from chat bot Tobirama's POV

Madara customized him to *be* Tobirama, but a Tobirama who can love him (with the implied "real" Tobirama being dead maybe? Or just some kind of un-havable)

And just the horror of being a mind customized to love a man you can never say no to. Of Madara saying smthn wrong or *Tobirama* saying the "wrong thing" and Madara growing more and more frustrated as he hits the reset button

Then like. Direct parallel to genjutsu n stuff. Infinite Tsukuyomi,,

Wait ok no, scratch, rewind, take it from the top and in a different direction ->

Ok so implied Infinite Tsukuyomi or some sort of genjutdu from Tobirama's POV. But he has no idea what's going on bc the genjutsu involves making him a) believe he's in love with Madara, and b) believe that everything is normal and nothing is wrong

TW// implied sexual assault via mind control / incredibly dubious consent issues

So the whole fic is like, half fluff "everything is beautiful and nothing hurts" and half creeping sense of wrongness as over and over again, Tobirama gets close to the truth only for Madara to pull him back under or wipe his mind again

Is this pure Infinite Tsukuyomi, and only Madara and Tobirama are real people? Is it just really strong genjutsu and there are actual Uchiha around who are staring in growing horror and possibly try to step in to say smthm only to mysteriously dissapear? Dunno but !!!

@instant-bull :

Oh I really like this concept, a toxic relationship but taken to 100. I think both ways of telling it are interesting, but I'm leaning more into the tsukuyomi version because that adds a layer of physicality a bot tobirama doesn't have and, in my opinion, is a bit less muddied thematically.

It's so scary to imagine Madara completely in control of Tobirama, who's theoretically alive, but he's so *different* that he might as well be a different person who just looks similar

Madara trying to weaken the genjutsu to allow Tobirama to be more of "himself" but can only do so much bc the closer he gets to his real self, the more he'll genuinley piss off Madara, or show love in ways Madara doesn't appreciate or realize is how he shows love— Like maybe Madara will loosen the genjutsu on the personality a little bit, trying to make Tobirama more *Tobirama* but of course this means that Tobirama is suddenly arguing more, drawing more boundaries, maybe nagging him a lot, and Madara is like *ugh this infuriating man, I can't even loosen his genjutsu without him finding new ways to piss me off, fuck.*

Has to tighten it up again

But then that *also* pisses him off bc he *wants* normal Tobirana. Not... whatever imitation he's managed to create.

Other Uchiha are watching in actual horror, unsure if what they're seeing is fr. Using the sharingan for love and sex is like one of THE biggest taboos of the clan.

Maybe this is a time travel au on top of it all? Madara time travels, genjutsu's Tobirama in premeditated revenge + "It's for his own good, really. Now he can finally relax" + just plain being really horny for him

So then Izuna is still alive and possibly the biggest "oh my god oh my god Madara what are you DOING"

Izuna getting mad bc Madara "defeated" *his* rival, twisted him into something unrecognizable to those who know him personally, beat and humiliated him so fuckin soundly in every way—

Madara maybe begrudgingly offering to "share" Tobirama w Izuna since this *was* technically revenge for him

@mengfm :

If a fic was written like this I would not he the same guy that I am rn. Holy shit. The entire idea is so fucked in like the best way ever. The offer…Oh Madara you are off the deep end in premeditated vengeance

There's premeditated vengeance and then there's whatever the FUCK Madara is doing over there

Just kill him like a normal person Madara this wouldn't be ok even after he killed Izuna

At the very least, wouldn't revenge *for Izuna* make more sense if you made Tobirama head over heals for *him* and not for *yourself?*

We all see what u want here Madara and it's not just revenge

@instant-bull :

"It's just revenge" except not really Madara, you're enjoying this far too much

@mengfm :

EXACTLY. Madara is practically lying to himself about his own fucked up little fascination and want. Also on a funnier note I’m just thinking about Madara making that strange offer to share as if he’s not doing the most insane taboo thing with an Izuna who’s like “why the fuck are you going this far”

Madara is literally playing with his food and the food is practically brain dead

PLEASEE

That's why it's so perfect too

If you think ab it, the diminishing of his mind is truly the worst possible punishment

@mengfm :

Truly the worst torture for Tobirama who lowkey doesn’t even have a clue what’s happening

@instant-bull :

Madara having to share with Izuna would be so cool too, omg. I can imagine him getting frustrated while "tailoring" his Tobirama: if he takes away too much of his free will, then it's no longer Tobirama and even for Madara he feels eery and empty. If he gives him too much free will, Tobirama becomes infuriating and starts to break loose from Madara's grasp, which also isn't great. It's a delicate balance, there's almost a science behind it. Maybe he'd particularly enjoy tormenting Tobirama in bed, getting him slightly more aware of himself, but still not quite, like in a semi-lucid dream. Obviously Madara wouldn't want to fuck a Tobirama that he *designed*, but a real deal, to watch his authentic reactions (bc that's what makes Madara's dick stir).

It stopped being revenge the moment you made him think he loved you, and it started being *way too fucking far* the moment you *allowed* him to love you

Tobirama, best sensor in history, objectively just a really smart man, keeps accidentally waking up a little bit

Or like piecing together that something is wrong

Madara actually has to keep deflecting murder attempts bc he usually defaults to murder after realizing smthn is so wrong it breaks his brain a little

Madara just being in this infinite loop of like;

dumbs down Tobirama -> Tobirama is not Tobirama but he does love me so ?? -> Tobirama slowly eases out of it, still loves me but is more himself now -> Tobirama has eased out of it too much and is now becoming twitchy with knowing something is wrong. He feels more like himself than he will ever get, Madara can not bear to dumb him down again -> Tobirama snaps and attempts to harm Madara in some way / confesses to Madara or someone else (Izuna??) that something is wrong (thinking he can trust him) -> Madara is forced to dumb him down again

Endless loop! Madara is giving him actual brain damage !!

@instant-bull :

endless loop except every time it gets Slightly Worse

@mengfm :

God, do you feel over time this would genuinely deteriorate him down? Like genjutsus usually can kill their targets. Like what if there’s a time Madara tightens the hold too much in a fit of rage and it just shatters that balance and he actually harms him

YESS

Do one of those uhh, horror movie kind of "they can no longer feel pain" scenes. Hand on a lit stove kinda thing, doesn't notice a thing. Smile permanently affixed to his face

@mengfm :

God YES. And it just pisses him off more!!! He’s even more prone to fucking anger

@instant-bull :

Madara, like a little kid throwing a tantrum and tossing his favorite toy across the room in rage

Deep down inside of him, the parts of him who are still awake really are smiling because maybe Madara will finally put him out of his misery

Ok, but a Tobirama who's woken up enough to know he needs to *keep playing along*

Smiling so gently at Madara as he inwardly thinks about snapping his neck

Madara waking up to Tobirama just *staring* at him at night, thinking at first it's another murder attempt, but... no? He seems fine? Huh...

Plot twist, that final brain damage arc leading to his death wasn't Madara snapping his mind in half but a somewhat conscious Tobirama playing Madara's strings till he was so mad he killed him

Get played Madara, even when you've won you've lost

@mengfm :

See this idea is so fun cause you can go a lot of ways or combine all of this. It’s like the craziest game of chess of fucking trying to figure out a balance and keep yourself safe while also trying to find an opening (for tobirama at least) to figure out a way out (killing him probably)

Chess but one of you is handicapped to hell and only conscious once a month

Ok but also tho: Tobirama as a symbol of fear and power for the rest of the Uchiha

Tobirama realizing if he leaves his genjutsu'd self with a single thought he thinks *very very loudly* in his last concious moments, it'll kind of carry— and him using that to lay out plans for him to follow, even if he doesn't realize they are his plans

Walking advertisement for the kind of horrors Madara is willing to commit to satiate himself

No one fucking asked him to do that

There is no perceived big act of revenge (other than just being an enemy of the clan)

Pair it with Tobirama having maybe once said to some Uchiha in the past that he considers them "honorable enemies"

+ Uchiha noble clan taking a lot of genuine pride in *being* noble enemies

Some throw away line of "I'd rather fight an honorable enemy (Uchiha) than some despicable thieves" that resonated a bit w whatever Uchiha he had told

Maybe Izuna??

I'd love to see Izuna just being *really* fucked up ab all this

What do you MEAN you're doing this for him?? Is this... his fault? Did he ask for this somehow? The enemy he once wanted to see at his feet will now literally grovel and serve him tea like some wife if he so much as asks, but it feels... wrong. Like he didn't win this. Because he *didn't*

This is some awful perversion of the victory he'd wanted, and now he'll never *get* that victory because Madara took it upon himself to *break his rival in Izuna's place.*

And not even break him like a man, but like some sort of horse. Broken to fit into some mold of being tamed

This is not what Izuna wanted, thanks nii-san </3

@instant-bull :

honestly I love the idea of the Uchiha clan watching from the sidelines, completely confused as to what Madara is doing, freaked out about it but unable to do anything. If they wanted to "free" Tobirama, that would be an act of treachery, no? Why would they even take Tobirama's side? As far as they are concerned, Tobirama is too dangerous to just be let go...

@beatriceportinari :

now why know why so many uchiha defectrd during that time lmao

No bc exactly!!! They're so conflicted!!!

This is like their ultimate taboo behind eye stealing, and Tobirama *is* an enemy, a very very hated enemy, but this is also objectively horrifying on every level, there's for sure some speculation ab like, *are they sleeping together,* thus *is there rape involved* bc the Uchiha have VERY strict and clear rules ab genjutsu for compulsed sex (namely that *it is never ok)*

Madara is already scary, after Izuna died he apparently became a very unpopular leader, so Izuna is like 90% of his buffer with the clan. But even *Izuna* is terrified at what's happening, so he can do his best but there isn't really much buffering to be done here

@instant-bull :

I love that! Nobody is on board with Madara's freaky bullshit, but also nobody will stop him.

I only wonder what Hashirama knows and what does he think of it

@beatriceportinari :

i think he should kidnap izuna in exchange

he'd be niceys though

@instant-bull :

holy shit, that would make Madara blow tf up

Make it Hashiizu

Madara, looking at all he's done to Tobirama, looking at Hashirama and Izuna and going "there's no way that was consensual" bc he can't imagine a world where they can be together happily and willingly (bc he and Tobirama never could)

@instant-bull :

HE ACCUSES IZUNA OF DOING THE SAME THING OOOOH

Izuna would LOSE IT

@instant-bull :

and Izuna has no way of proving that he actually isn't doing fucked up shit so he's there like > : /

Madara "relationships don't work for me so love must be fake" Uchiha

@beatriceportinari :

hsizu are doing 4th dimentional chess but it's enrichment to them

It's fun chess, not whatever tf tbmd has going on

@instant-bull :

they just enjoy the courting and chasing, let them live their pride and prejudice

Leave them alone Madara!!

@beatriceportinari :

love is real mister madara !

Go back to mind fucking your husband !!!

Endgame Madara accidentally kills Tobirama (or, Tobirama successfully pressures Madara into putting him out of his misery)

Hashirama Mito and Izuna create Konoha and are a power couple together but the narrative is forever haunted by what Madara did

Madara is kept in a shed out back where he's haunted by Tobirama's vengeful ghost

Today's AU is brought to u with the help of @mengfm @instant-bull and @beatriceportinari, everyone say thank you to them

[theshinazugawaslut]

Might be NSFW but just imagine telling Sanemi you didn't finish as a joke

That man is getting on his knees and fixing that IMMEDIATELY

jokes on you because now he's not stopping until you are overstimulated and soaking

/ don't worry about NSFW with me, I'd find it weird if it wasn't a little on the spicy side.

Now, this man's main focus is you and your pleasure — you're the sweetest thing in the entire world, of course you should be the one cumming.

So when you jokingly (though Sanemi didn't pick that up) say with a pout that you didn't finish, he is literally pouncing on you.

He gets to his knees and puts your thighs onto his shoulders, kissing the supple skin tenderly, sucking it into his mouth as he litters little apologies against your skin.

And he's sucking your cunt like a madman, warm tongue swirling around your clit, making it almost swell in his mouth as he sticks two crooked, familiar fingers into your gummy walls, curling it into the spot that has you seeing stars.

He makes you cum three times under ffifteen minutes as an apology, seemingly not caring at how your thighs suffocate his face, simply burying his nose deeper into your wet slit, practically making out with your hole as you sob, cry, wrench at his snowy hair.

"My good fuckin' girl," he croons as he gets up because he damn well ain't done yet.

The night isn't over till your pretty belly isn't bloated with seed, swollen with his dick, and even as he cums into you — warm, thick, and too, too much, he keeps going even as he overstimulates the both of you, and you're both crying into the crook of each other's necks.

And after awhile, as he cuddles you, sticky, you say weakly, "You know I was joking, right?"

He stares, looking utterly offended and (mock) hurt. "You fuckin' liar! You're lucky I enjoyed that otherwise I'd make you sleep under the bed!"

[rafaslittleboy]

hngggg sonny would fill u up so muchhhcc youd feel his cum spurring inside u and hed cum so violently he’s groaning deep in his chest and his cock pounding into you hurting your cervix hnggg biting you and all before your mommy comes home from work ❤️

nsfw under the cut; incest, pussy mentions but no gendered terms. don’t read if you’re sensitive or not into dark/taboo stuff like this.

omfg I can imagine dad!sonny being so pent up for WEEKS because your mom isn’t satisfying him + his long hours at work, he’s always so busy never has time for himself but when he starts his little thing with you; he doesn’t fuck you as much as he would like to, properly fucking you once or twice a month—any other sexual act with his dear sweet summer child is all oral or hand stuff—so when he finally gets you he POUNCESSS on you and ravines you like an ANIMAL and you love it because you’re fucked stupid and dumb and drooling , trying to grasp onto his sweaty shoulders as he fucks into you like it’s his last fuck on earth and you FEEL it when he finishes inside you, thighs quite literally trembling with the force of his fucking. Feeling his cum spurt against your walls and the tip of him punching your cervix as if it could break in.

and oh my GOD don’t get me started on his groans, if there’s no one but you both in the apartment that man would be VOCAL talk about dirty talk turned up to the max—all praise and degradation, “fuck, that’s it, my sweet fuckin’ whore kid—you like daddy’s cock, huh?” And he slaps you for good measure, “say it” and you can barely remember your name.

Let’s face it he’s getting older and because he doesn’t get any action p-in-v (or p-in-a! next few fics won’t be gendered reader) wise that often, his stamina is deteriorating and is nothing like how it was a decade ago. Sonny’s orgasm creeps up on him on the four minute mark, but by that time he’s already made you cum twice because he’s so considerate and such a good dad! dad of the year award right here! your pussy gripping around him because it had no clue what to do, your used and abused and over sensitive wet clit burning because even after you’ve came twice he’s still circling it trying to force another one out of you by the time he finishes.

But when he does? Especially in the moment where he’s fucking you so deep and hard in your bed, he’s growling and his breaths are uneven and heavy and he’s saying things like; “Daddy’s gonna cum sweetie, gonna cum real deep inside ya, gonna fill ya right up—ya like that, baby? hmm? like the thought of ya dad fillin’ ya up?”

and you’re nodding and forget to breathe, your weak hand wrapping around his wrist that’s holding your hip down, making unintelligible sounds of affirmation and then he pulls another orgasm from you and the second your pussy clenched down on him he was a goner—back bowing and his whole body shaking as he fucked you both through your orgasms—and his voice?? ugh he lets out the most intense moan because his orgasm is HARD and feral.

It takes him a few seconds afterward to calm himself down enough to stop furiously pumping his cock deep inside you, (most likely bruising your insides and will have you walking funny), and he’s out of breath. Ofc he asks if you’re okay because what sort of father would he be if he didn’t look out for you? He knows he went just a little overboard, but by the dazed look you have on your face and the post-coital smile, he knows you’re okay.

Sonny helps clean you up, runs a bath for you and changes your very wet bedsheets into nice smelling clean ones, opening a window to allow fresh air in and with time to spare before your mom comes home. In fact, he just left the bathroom after giving you a sweet kiss to start on dinner when she walks in (obviously in one of her moods) but they don’t affect him anymore because the person he thinks is far more important than a bitter woman is a person he made himself.

[makeucrawl]

“ShockTherapy” short for yall.

!!WARNING!!NSFW!!

Lately, Coyle has been growing increasingly frustrated. He hasn't seen much of Easterman since Franco arrived at the facility.

Why the hell was he spending so much time with that disgusting tiny man when he even told Coyle that he was his favorite prime asset?! Even when they were alone it was “What do you think of Franco?” “How do you think Franco is doing in the trials?”

Franco. Franco. Fucking god damn little freak.

And fuck Easterman.

The cop hasn't been touched by that damn doctor in weeks. He was going to lose it if he didn't release this pent-up frustration. Shame there weren’t any reagents for him to take his annoyance out on.

“Been hard all goddamn day..” Growling to himself as he stomps down the corridor of the police station.

He suddenly hears the doctor's voice as he walks past a room. Knowing that it was only one of the televisions scattered throughout the station, Coyle pushes the door open. Frequently, they would broadcast a grainy image of Easterman along with the man's typical psycho babble. To ensure that none of the ex pops could wander in, Coyle locks the door.

He stands in front of the television on the desk and looks down at it with a sinister smile. The officer was imagining that arrogant bastard kneeling before him. The most pitiful look on his face with his wrists cuffed behind his back.

Coyle desperately wanted to see that.

"Fuckin’ teach ya to ignore me…” Coyle palms himself through his pants and grits his teeth against the cigarette in his mouth. He removes his cock from the restrictions of his jeans as quickly as he could. Smoke exhaling heavily from his nose as he begins to pump himself in front of the television.

His cheeks flushed at the idea of jerking himself off directly in front of the doctor’s face. He groans breathlessly and leans more over the TV, pushing the head of his cock onto the screen. Feverishly he rubs the tip against the screen, causing an obscene amount of precum to spill out.

The corner of his mouth twitches upward into another smile.

He could just imagine Easterman's scowl if he were here. Oh, he wanted to rub his cock all over the other man's face. Force himself into his mouth, only to hear him gag.

Really, he just wants the doctor to touch him. He needed it.

Coyle whines and pulls his pants down further, displaying a scar on his inner right thigh. After a boozy night together, Easterman decided to scar his initials onto the cop.

It hurt a lot, and the scar looked bad, but it had been a great time.

The cigarette falls from his lips as he lets out a deep groan, dragging his fingers across the scar. “F-Fuckin bastard..”

His hips stuttered against the TV screen, recalling how near the other's face had been so close to his cock. The way he smirked at the officer every time he groaned with pain and pleasure.

“Fuckin hate you…hhhhhaaaate…” A small whimper leaves him “Nnh..I-I wanna see ya... I wa-want yer d-damn attention! I-I want all of it!”

The memory of Easterman pinning him to the desk following the scarring entered his thoughts. How the other man yanked his pants down and entered him. The way he fucked him long and hard while the desk shook under them. He felt so used after, his hole gaping and dripping with the other man's cum. Blood dripping down his thigh from the fresh cuts that would become his favorite scar.

His finger slides over the jagged scarred lettering on his thigh once more. “O-ooOoh doc…F-Fuck! I-I’m gonna cum..y-yer gonna m-make me fffuckin-!!!”

As he came, he threw back his head and let out a long whiny moan. He leans away from the TV, breathing heavily and raggedly, while thick globs of cum fall down the screen.

A breathy chuckle from the intercom behind him nearly gives him a heart attack.

When he turns around, he noticed a camera is aimed directly at him. His mouth falls open as he searches for words.

"I had no idea how much you missed me." Coyle fumbles with the locked door while Easterman purrs into the microphone. "I'll stop by and see you soon…” The intercom clicks off following another chuckle just as Coyle stumbles out of the room.

"F-Fuckin hell.." Coyle curses himself, his face turning hot crimson. "Bastard, bastard, BASTARD!!” He shouts feeling extremely embarrassed.

He was looking forward to the doctor’s vist.