#i know i don't talk about him much (no content duh) but I do love him

[gumified]

WATCHING THRU THE MIRROR !

pairing: suguru x reader, toji x reader, satoru x reader, choso x reader, sukuna x reader (all separate)

summary: jjk men and how much they love to fuck you with a mirror around.

content: 3.1k, smut, mirror kink (duh!), spanking, degradation, praise, dirty talk, overstimulation, breast play, spitting, public sex (it's in a club bathroom), creampie, dumbification, choking

note: this is filthy but i cba to revise for my history exam so here you guys goooo!

SUGURU GETO

"look at you." suguru coos at your figure in the mirror and your body is littered with dark purple bruises. you feel yourself grow wetter at the sight. his hands roam your body and your eyes are glued to the way his cock thrusts in and out of you. the way it disappears into your heat and how it's so big and thick. "do you like seeing me fuck you?" 

the sensation has tingles shooting up your spine. your boyfriend's voice is low and husky and it has your pussy clenching around his cock. strands of his dark hair fall into his eyes and he ignores it as he continues to fuck you relentlessly. the mirror in front of you both allows you to see your face and your reactions as he pleasures you. 

"love seeing you fall apart on my cock." suguru groans. you’re unable to take your eyes off the sight in front of you, staring at the way you look so unfamiliar and it’s so embarrassing that you turn your head to look away. suguru’s hands grab your chin, forcing you to look back at your messy body. “nu uh, don’t look away now, we’re about to get to the good part.”

you squirm in his grip, staring at your boyfriend's flushed face as a low growl leaves his throat. you whine at the sight. he fills you up and the room's filled with erotic sounds of his balls slapping on your sweaty skin. the tip of his cock hits a spot inside of you that has your body buckling over and you seeing the stars. everything feels so good and you can't help but feel your release approaching.

"s-suguru…" you moan. “ahh! so good, so so good, nghh-”

your stomach tightens and you feel your orgasm wrack through your body, pleasure shooting up your spine. you desperately try to keep your expression straight, not wanting to let suguru know that you had just come. you really should be known better though.

he stops his movements and his eyes harden into a glare. "did you just cum?" you shake your head. "no? really darling? you shouldn't lie to me."

“not lyin’ promise promise, didn’t lie, a-ahh!”

his eyes through the mirror has you shivering and you try to look somewhere else, anywhere else but you can feel him all around you. the truth is practically forced out of you and once it slips past your lips you hear suguru snarl and turn you over onto his lap. he delivers a harsh smack and a red mark begins to bloom. the zing of pain that shoots up within you only has your pussy dripping more. 

"such a needy whore, want me to fuck this cunt raw don't you? can't even follow simple instructions, do you need to be taught like a fucking baby?" each audible smack is delivered with more intensity than the last and you whimper at the pain. it spreads through your body and you wince when his hand comes into contact with your supple flesh. you’re moaning and writhing in his grasp. there's a steady rhythm to it and you can't help but stick your ass higher, craving his touch. “you don’t even know how to listen nasty whore.”

you whine at the numbness that fills the lower part of your body. suguru gives your ass a squeeze. you try to contain the moan that threatens to slip past your lips but it comes out and it's startling how pornographic you look in the mirror, your lewd expressions that reflect right back at you. you can feel him smirk as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

"gonna teach you a fucking lesson brat."

TOJI FUSHIGURO

“t-tojiii-'' a scream is ripped from your throat as you brace yourself against the sink. your hands grip the hard surface, clinging desperately as you get pounded from behind. “toji toji toji, hnggh, ‘s too much, please please pleaseee.”

there’s tears edging at the corners of your eyes as you feel your pussy constrict around his cock. he’s fucking you like he’s got a point to prove and his thrusts are relentless as he continues to plough into you. each hit makes you keen with pleasure and you’re forced to look at your lewd reflection in the mirror.

“dirty fuckin’ girl.” toji snarls as his hands lift your chin so you stare directly at yourself. his hands slide down to your throat and you gasp as he squeezes it. you feel the air leave your lungs and your head becomes light. “look at yerself you whore, filthy face, ya only know how to cum around my cock like some desperate slut.”

his insults only fuel your pleasure and you moan as his tip hits your cervix over and over again. his other hand comes to grope your tits and you shriek as he pinches your nipples, twisting them and playing with the sensitive nubs between his fingers. his hands are rough and you feel him caress your whole body. 

“do you see this cunt?” his fingers snake down to rub your clit and your eyes flutter open as you watch as he abuses your pussy. his cock plunges in and out, splitting you open so deliciously. “it’s mine, fuckin’ all mine, f-fffuck you’re such a nasty whore.”

you’re dripping wet and you can feel the mess between your legs. toji’s cock feels so big and thick inside your walls and you can only moan like a bitch in heat as you feel him fuck you senseless. his hands tighten around your throat and it only makes you moan louder, lungs burning from the lack of oxygen. when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the foggy mirror all you see is your fucked out face. toji’s behind you, face flushed as he leans forward to place kisses on your neck. his teeth nip at your skin and his tongue brushes over the bite he leaves. you grind your hips against his, feeling the way his cock seems to expand inside you. 

“yours yours yours, ‘m all yours toji, ah! ah! ah!” you squeal as his cock hits that spot that has you convulsing with pleasure. the lewd noises fill the bathroom and you can feel the smirk against your neck as toji increases the pace of his thrusts. “gonna cum, gonna cum gonna cum!!!”

“yeah? go on then pretty girl, look at yerself as you cum on this cock, look at yerself as you get fucked stupid.”

his words push you over the edge and then your pussy’s clenching around his length, squeezing him so so tight that it has toji moaning above you as well. you scream as you feel yourself gush around him, liquid spraying everywhere as you watch your expression shift to one you had never seen before. you feel his fat tip bullying into your cunt and all you can do is moan as he continues to fuck you. 

“princess didn’t think we were finished did ya?” his tone is mean and condescending and you know that the next few hours would consist of you being bent over every surface imaginable as toji fucks his cum into you. “‘m gonna make you watch yerself over and over again until you’re too fucked out to even keep these pretty eyes open.”

SATORU GOJO

you’re pressed up against the floor length mirror, satoru’s behind you, cock plunging in and out of your cunt. the cool sensation on your cheek is a stark contrast to the burning heat that’s in between your legs. you feel your mind become hazy as you feel satoru’s cock throb inside you. 

“fuck baby, you look so gorgeous. love looking at your cute face as i fuck you, don’t you?”

his tone is mocking and you know he’s purposefully making fun of you. your too fucked out to even talk and all you can manage is a strangled moan as you feel yourself get lost in the pleasure. satoru’s cock is unreal and you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as he hits every single spot imaginable inside your body. he’s fucking you with so much fervour that you’re afraid that you’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow. 

“jus’ watch that filthy face, mouth open, tongue hanging out like some desperate bitch. who knew you were such a slut for cock?” satoru grips your hips like they’re the only thing keeping him sane as he fucks into your cunt. his dirty words fill your ears and all you can do is moan louder and louder as you listen to his haggard breathing. “tell me, who’s fucking you good? c’mon tell me who’s making an absolute, fffuckk, mess of this pussy.” 

“y-you, you’re the one fucking me ‘toru, you’re the only one who can fuck me this good, a-ah! ‘toruuu feels so good, wan’ more, please!”

a wicked grin spreads across satoru’s face and you scream when he lifts your leg, hoisting you to a higher position as his cock plunges into your tight hole. you feel him hit impossibly deeper and every thrust is accompanied with a breathy moan as he slams his hips against yours. 

his hands reach out to grab your face, twisting you to face him as he kisses you. his tongue delves into your mouth and you try to tug him closer to you. satoru swallows the lewd noises you provide him with, every moan, every whimper, every whine. he loves the way you call his name so desperately and he simply adores the way you look pressed up against the mirror, hands splayed pathetically in front of you. he pulls away, a string of salvia connecting the both of you and you watch as his eyes darken. 

“open.” and you obey his words, widening your mouth as you feel him spit into it. the feeling was enough to make you go insane. he moans before kissing you once more and it sends the both of you in a passionate frenzy. “god you’re so greedy, nghh, s-such a needy slut.”

and you can’t deny his accusations, not when you’re so erotically pressed up against the mirror for him, watching yourself unravel right in front of yourself. satoru’s lips rest on your neck, sucking harshly as he leaves a fresh trail of red marks. you’re rendered unable to move as he fucks you harder, your gummy walls sucking him in deeper.

“no no no, look at yourself pretty, c’mon look at the way you take me so well. can’t get enough of you.” your eyes are drawn to the way his cock disappears into you, the prominent bulge in your stomach the centre of your attention. satoru’s hands reach down to press against the outline of his cock and you mewl at his touch. warmth spreads throughout your body and you spasm uncontrollably as each thrust has you jolting. “we’re gonna be here all night and you’re gonna be filled so full with my cum that you won’t need anything else.”

CHOSO KAMO

choso’s eyes are glued to your reflection above him. he’s staring intently at the mirror on his ceiling as you bounce on his cock over and over again. you giggle at his cute expression, how enraptured he is to watch the both of you in the mirror. his face is flushed and his hair is splayed everywhere on the pillow while you ride him.

“you’re so pretty baby, do you like looking at me that much?” your voice is light and teasing as your fingers drag up his chest, feeling the hard muscle underneath you. “if i had known i would’ve installed a mirror above our bed much sooner.”

all choso can do is whine as he bucks his hips up desperately. your pussy squeezes his cock so tightly and he gasps, finding himself unable to take his eyes off your figure. you look so beautiful above him and the more he stares the harder he falls in love with you.

“y-y/n, fffuckk, feels so g-good, your pussy feels so good!” his moans are breathy as he struggles to catch his breath. his cock hits every spot inside you so deliciously that it has you whimpering as well. ���wanna fuck you forever.”

choso’s hands grip your waist as he snaps his hips up to yours and you squeal at the sudden movement, not expecting him to suddenly thrust into you. his pace is unrelenting as he continues to pound into your pussy watching as you fall apart on his cock. he’s always been so big and he’s always been able to fill you up so full.

“a-ahh! o-oh my godd, choso love you so much, love you so so - hnghh - much!” you throw your head back, too engrossed in the pleasure and you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. lewd expression and fucked-out eyes greet your gaze. you smile at the sight above you. your boyfriend looks adorable, face blushing red and eyes squeezed shut as he groans and whines. the sight is almost too much to bear. 

choso reaches forward, grabbing your face close to his for a kiss. you moan as you melt into his body. your hands tangle through his hair and he lets out a whine when you tug at the roots. there’s tears pricking his eyes as he feels you tug on his dark locks.

“more, p-please more, need you s-so bad.” his words only fuel you more and you rock your hips back and forth faster, desperate to reach both of your highs. his hands wander around your body, caressing every inch of your skin until he finds your tits. his fingers play with your nipples, pinching and twisting them until it has you gasping for more. your cunt clenches around his cock and you can feel every protruding vein as he throbs painfully inside you. “w-wanna cum, please please please, ‘m so close y/n pleaseee.”

before you know it, you’re flipped over and choso’s on top of you, roughly ploughing into your pussy in a frenzied haze. his incoherent babbling fills your ears and all you can hear is him begging for his release. you feel your senses dim as his tip bruises your cervix and his cock seems to expand within you. your eyes lock onto the pens looking back to you in the mirror and you don’t recognise the girl whose mouth is agape and who’s moaning like a slut. choso captures your lips in a passionate kiss and he’s grinding his hips onto yours, fucking you dumb. 

“look y/n, hah, look at yourself as you c-cum on my cock, wan’ you to see yourself as i fill you with - nghh - my c-cum.” your hands claw at choso’s back and you see the red marks it leaves as your nails dig into his skin and he hisses at the sensation. the mirror gives you a clear view of yourself and your boyfriend as you release all over him and as he spurts his cum into your pussy. you moan as you hug him closer to you, so you can feel every inch of him. hot thick cum invades your body and you feel your mind blank as you lie beneath choso blissed out.

SUKUNA RYOMEN

“nasty fuckin’ bitch.” sukuna grabs a handful of your ass as he plunges his cock into your pussy. his palm makes contact with the smooth curve and you scream as the pain spreads through your body. “wearing such a slutty outfit, you’re just asking to be fucked dumb aren’t you?”

the only response you’re able to give is a strangled moan as you grip the dirty surface in front of you. your tits spill out of the tight dress you’re wearing and you watch as they bounce in the mirror. every harsh thrust sukuna delivers is reciprocated with the recoil your ass provides. his hand makes contact once again and you feel tears roll down your face.

“think you can break up with me then come to some club in some scraps of fabric you call a dress? guess you’ve really gone insane haven’t you princess?” his words only make you grow wetter as you whimper in response. the moment you had spotted sukuna in the dark corner of the club you knew he would drag you to the bathroom and fuck your brains out, not that you were complaining. “f-fuck forgot how well this pussy takes my cock, such a greedy girl.”

“hngghh, ‘kuna-” your words are cut off with a shriek as sukuna lifts you higher. his cock hits you even deeper and you’re falling apart all over again. you watch the mirror in front of you, looking at the way your face is sweaty and the wicked grin that’s on your ex's face. “so good ‘kuna, so so good!”

“yeah? missed me dirty girl? did you miss the way this cock fills your slutty pussy?” sukuna’s hands are rough as they grope your breasts, he’s not gentle as he pulls on your nipples harshly. “answer me slut.”

“m-missed you so much ‘kuna, s-soo much ahhh!”

sukuna smirks and he’s pounding into your cunt sloppily again. you feel your arousal dripping down your thighs as it lands on the floor. he kneads your soft skin between his hands, tainting you with his touch. “filthy fucking whore, that’s all you’re ever gonna be, my fucking cum dump.”

the repetitive slapping of skin fills your ears and your breathy moans mix in to create a lewd concoction. you sob at the overstimulation as you watch yourself get fucked in the mirror. it’s gone foggy yet you can still make out your figure bent over as you get stretched out from behind you. each thrust has you jolting forward and you desperately cling on to the little bit of sanity you have left as sukuna fucks it out of you. 

“you’re mine got that? don’t ever think about leaving me again, i’ll always find you princess because you’re mine, my cute little cocksleeve.”

you can’t take it anymore as you feel yourself squeeze his length. you’re so tight and his cock splits you open perfectly. his fat mushroom head invades your insides and you feel yourself craving his cum. you want him to use you so badly and you feel your own morals slip from your grasp. sukuna only continues his dirty praises as he leans forward, whispering them into your ear and his hot breath fans across your face and you mewl at the feeling.

“yours ‘kuna, only yours, wanna be yours forever please pleaseee!”

when you look up in the mirror you see the shit-eating grin that spreads across sukuna’s face and you feel your stomach tighten at the sight. his cock throbs in your pussy and you feel your whole body light on fire as he fucks into your harder. 

“that’s right, you’re mine.”

[incidentallysunny]

Through The Skin

Real Uncle!Leon

Dead dove warning.

7k word count. Proof read lightly. Critique is welcomed and my skin is thick for it.

I'd like to appear in the tagz pls so here's a warning. My writing is not ever meant to be taken literally and is just for the sake of writing fxcked up content that I enjoy writing. If you do not wish to read this, please do not as my intentions are not to offend or make you intentionally uncomfortable but if you choose to read- don't be hateful. With that out of the way, extremely sensitive content and dead dove material ahead.

Specifically blood-related incest, smut, suicidal ideation, mentions of grotesque imagery, light mentions of gore in a hypothetical scenario, age-gap, overall just some disturbing topics.

As far as smut specifically: this includes talking of public sex, public female oral-recieving, Leon has dick piercings surprise, make and female oral, fingering, unprotected sex, cream-pie (wrap your willy irl pls) praise, dirty talk, spitting, any probably some other irrelevant shit I'm forgetting my bad.

PROCEED if you read the above, are okay with it, and are mentally unwell like I am. Happy reading, it's a long one.

To be quite frank, you didn’t give a shit about a single holiday party that your parents threw. Having to hug and touch on people you didn’t even know, putting on a fake smile and pretending as if you remembered them at all. Exhausting for a young woman to keep up this charade for so long. You’re sure your relatives noticed the dying spark in your eyes over time. Living Growing does that to a person. You spent all night fetching beers and other pre-packaged, alcoholic drinks- hoping he would show up every time you had to hand one out. Still one less face you’re can be enthralled to see.

You sat at the dining table, leaned onto an elbow with your face in your palm. Clearly a dejected and annoyed pose but everyone here was too cheery or already deep in the ‘special occasion’ wine bottle to even piece that together. Your other hand traced the ringed patterns in the wood surface, wondering how old it had been before it was chopped down ruthlessly by some hot guy with a chainsaw who was getting paid way too much to be fucking up nature left and right. All so that some college-aged girl could sit at the furniture it had been made into and sulk. God, an almost 40 year old tree. That’s pretty fucking old. You’re glad it lived a somewhat long life (in human years, not tree years.) ‘Cause some trees live a few hundred or even thousand years. So maybe it was taken too soon before it became the placeholder for your familial drunken talks. While you were distracted, annoyed, and pitying yourself, the table all erupted into ‘Hey, long time no see!’s , laughter, and other delightful sentiments that were jolly and deafening enough to make you jump. Loud noises weren’t your thing.

Before you could regain your composure and turn your torso in the hand-carved, deep-brown varnished chair- a hand graced the presence of your slumped shoulder.

“Hey, babydoll. Long time no see.” The voice greeted, husky and rough like a patch of concrete you’ve definitely scraped your knee on a time or two. Basically, it was familiar, which is what you’re getting at.

Uncle Leon.

You turned your full body now, swinging your legs to the side of the seat- a few laughs slopped from the table.

Everyone knew how much you loved and fawned over your Uncle- your dad rivaling how much you seemed to prefer his brother over him. Well duh, dad. It’s because he’s fun and you’re a hard-ass. And ugly to look at. Your poor, poor mom.

It had been years since you saw your uncle. Since you were freshly 18, to be exact. Your dad wasn’t too keen on having him around his barely-legal daughter- probably because he could practically smell it on you that you want your uncle to pop your cherry. You still remembered his few quirks, too. He was always sloppy yet casually drunk wherever he was, he hated fireworks (due to PTSD as your dad explained), and he had always been known to be grabby with people- probably because of the alcohol. He was a weird guy, but you loved him all the same. It broke the normalcy of your home and made things interesting to be around him. However- none of this was the focus. His stubble, dark-liquored bags under his eyes that almost resemble eyeliner, and dark-tinted hair were. And god, his chin. Could be a replacement for a Sybian, if you had one. All of that aside, he looks sexy. That’s so fucking weird to say about your dad’s brother, but calling it weird is also so outdated. Fucking your hot, middle-aged uncle is in; getting a boyfriend your age is out.

You stood up swiftly, hugging him tightly around the waist and almost toppling him. He chuckled, steadying himself with one arm around your back and the other on the table to catch himself. Once he felt he was steady enough, the other arm joined around you- the embrace squeezing you like a stress ball. You worried that your eyes might be a little more loose in your skull than before.

“Gotta be careful, kiddo. You’re gonna take down your uncle one of these days.” He teases, moving out of the hug and letting his hands explore their way down your back- resting on the small of it. Digits perched like a bird where your back starts to curve into your ass- not sweetly or gentle- but like one of those huge-taloned hawks that would rip your flesh off. You only say that because his hands are big and rough- and you’ve heard stories of what your uncle does for work (plus the alcohol is making him need to stabilize himself so he doesn’t crash you both into the nearby counter and cause any serious brain injury. At least then you could excuse the bubbling of strange feelings as TBI). Oh, and with how handsy he was known to be (Just ask your Aunt Claire on your mom’s side). But he had never been that way with you- not until now.

You see your dad eyeing him like the same kind of big-taloned hawk from across the table. They’re cut from the same feathers- except your dad must have been the one that never learned to fly. Pushed out of the nest by a sharp shove of a beak and bit every branch of the ugly tree on the way down. Cause he’s a lot weaker and uglier than your uncle. How he pulled your mom is a miracle and a mystery.

“Hey, uh. Honey. Come sit back down. No need in playing into your uncle’s fashionably late, drunken stupor.” He quips towards you while grilling Leon about being late, nursing his own drink with that ugly grin. You roll your eyes. Leon removes his hands from you- putting them up in defense of himself and leaving your back with an empty feeling.

“Hey, hey. Just hugging my beautiful niece.” He turned to address you again. “Been years since I’ve seen you, sweetheart. Look even better than your momma.” You feel a blush creep up at Leon’s words, but your dad clears his throat and your mom pays him no mind. Just an eye roll and sip of a wine cooler. To be honest, even she probably fucked your uncle. You couldn’t blame her if she did.

You huff and sit back down, crossing your arms. Your dad always had to ruin everything. If you fuck your uncle or kiss him or whatever and don’t like it, you can just go to therapy. Leon snickered behind you, patting your shoulder before leaning in next to your ear.

“Come join me out on the deck in a bit. I’m sure you’re tired of being smothered in here with the fun police.”

You feel muggy from his words. Like a Louisiana swamp type muggy. Is your hair sticking to you? Are there zika-virus bearing mosquitos pricking you or is that just undiagnosed anxiety?

You bounce your leg under the table while you hear the sliding door open and close in the distance. Minutes pass of you twiddling your thumbs- and you excuse yourself to sneak off- exiting out the same heavy sliding door that Leon used.

When you sealed it behind you- the smell of whiskey filled your nostrils- sizzling off any hairs that your nose so proudly grew for much needed germ-protection. A hand slapped itself gracelessly onto the glass above you in the dark, trapping you in place. Predictable uncle.

“Shit, sorry sweetheart. Lost my footing. Y’know how it is. I’m always taking spills here and there.” You felt giddy and blistered all over, speaking back to him.

“S’okay. Sorry about dad.” You excused, breathing in. Leon’s other hand patted you low on your hip as he chuckled into your ear- sending off more whiskey breath.

“It’s okay, sweet thing. Your dad can be that way. I’m not exactly safe to be around in his eyes. Besides, he’s just doing his job- looking out for his little girl.” He explains, not making any efforts to move. You predicted this- but it wasn’t unwelcome.

“Why’s that?” You dare to ask, sounding purposefully puzzled- but Leon knows better. And you know the answer.

“It’s ‘cause your Uncle likes ‘em young and pretty.” He mulls the information over you, the words sliding down you like a vibration that sets off a perfect sensation to your already throbbing clit. Because you’re always horny. The hand on your hip now kneads your ass under your skirt- somehow getting there without notice.

“O-oh.” You choke on the word like it’s quicksand in your throat- but only the quicksand is the prospect of having your uncle plow you until you develop early onset dementiaSo really, the quicksand isn’t bad in this instance. You jump into it face first for a good mouthful.

“Shouldn’t be wearing something so short when you know your dirty old uncle is coming over. Can’t keep my eyes where they’re supposed t’be.” He mutters low, leaning down to tickle the shell of your ear with his voice.

“Knew you were coming over. I wanted to look pretty for you.” Saying it makes your head spin, but like in the good way. The sound Leon makes is between a groan that says ‘good god, I’m going to bury my cock inside you right the fuck now’ and ‘I figured as much’. A simple cocktail of horniness and knowing.

“Mm, just want to kiss you everywhere, you know? Love it how sweet you are.” He murmurs into your scented hair, using the hand from the wall to push aside any strands that are in his way. He kisses the back of your neck and his breath scorches your skin. The affection is sloppy and leaves small bits of saliva behind, his barely-darting-out tongue making you ache even more.

“U-uncle.” You shuddered, a slight protest to your voice. Not ‘cause you don’t like it but because you’re worried someone will see. Or that you’ll never want off of his dick. He can be your personal IUD, all buried in your cervix.

Leon ignored the shared thought that someone could see because the way you referred to him made his dick jump in his jeans. Plus, the whole family knows he’s a sleeze. They’d see him balls deep in you and say ‘Ah, that’s Leon for you’ And look the other way until his next sexual prospect. One of the many reasons that Aunt Claire doesn't visit and Aunt Ada divorced his ass. Her loss. You’d happily share him if it were you. It’s only right to share a man that looks like a washed-up pornstar. His dick is great too. Not ‘cause you’re guessing- but because you saw it one time. Last time you saw him actually- the whole incident that left you wanting to see him again oh-so-badly. He had stumbled in the bathroom to piss- ignoring you at the sink. It’s whatever, he was totally wasted and probably didn’t see you. Nor did he probably see the fact you were gawking at his big dick. Or his nice ass, cause he had let his pants drop completely in his hazy state.

“Mm, what is it, babydoll? Hey- Think anyone’d notice if I fingered this sweet little pussy right now?” His voice cut through your memory and thick, long fingers teased the swell of your pussy lips through your underwear, making your hips contract with excitement. Your breath fans over the glass and smogs it.

“I don’t know- maybe.” You huff, trying to keep your composure. It sure is fucking hard when God’s gift to women is about to finger-fuck you at your parent’s house with 20 or so family members inside the property. You second guess yourself now. Maybe God's gift to women doesn’t go around playing with a pussy that belongs to their niece. Or maybe God was fed up with some girls missing out so he created sexually-attractive uncle’s to even any scores. You’ll be attending church this upcoming Sunday. Not because you’re going to follow through with blood-related fornication but because you want to thank the higher-ups properly for this fine piece of ass you’re about to receive from. Or maybe you shouldn’t step foot there, the whole ‘bursting into flames for egregious sinning’ type thing. Wait a minute- there’s literally daddy-daughter incest in the Book of Genesis, so you’ll happily sin away and tell god to fuck off while doing it. Okay maybe that’s a little uncalled for.

Leon tugged your panties to the side, breathing shakily.

“Fuck. I gotta see it, baby.” He mumbles, dropping to one knee with the other bent and still supporting the front of him. Underwear aside, he uses his hands to spread you out- taking in the sight of your damp folds. Damp is putting it lightly. His thumb collects some of your slick and he nearly cums right there.

“You save your first time for me?” He questions. In his mind, you’ve already had a dick or two. He can work with that. Those little guys your age don’t match up to him, but he’s blindsided when you whine about being a virgin, begging him to stick it in or something. Now, Leon’s not the greatest guy morally. At all. But if he’s going to pop your pussy like a soda cap for the first time, he’s going to do it in private cause he’s not stopping for anything. And privacy allows just that. Again- it’s not about it being special, just private. He’ll turn you out good and well.

“Sorry sweetheart. I wanna fuck this needy hole when it’s just us. Think you can wait?” He asks, before darting his tongue out to taste you and lapping up any of you that’s continuously dripping out from pent-up arousal. Your knees almost buckle and he puts his hands under the curve of your ass to hold you still. Your brain goes so mushy you almost forgot to respond.

“Y-yes, uncle Leon.” You whine like a pathetic puppy- begging for something that it didn’t need. But actually, you did need your uncle’s dick so badly. He laughs against your cunt, seemingly happy with that answer. Before you can properly nut like you want, you see your dad pass by in the distance of the sliding door. You tap the glass gently to alert Leon with a small series of clicks. He shoots his head up, yanking your panties back into place and using the sleeve of his leather jacket to wipe his mouth.

“Fuck- always such a blue-balling asshole for anyone, I swear. Sorry, pretty girl.” He smooths down your hair, making sure you look presentable. Well- besides your face that’s red enough to be used as a lit flare.

“Go inside. I’m sure he’s looking for you, babydoll.” He grabs you drunkenly by the upper arm, pulling you in to kiss you on the cheek.

“Come by mine sometime. I’ll be home, for once.” He mutters the last part, loosening his hold on you and starting down the steps of the deck.

“Okay. I’ll see you later, Uncle Leon.” You sound so disappointed and miserable. Pouty. Leon gets it.

“Later, babydoll.”

He heads down the path of the backyard and through the connecting gate that leads to the driveway, the sound of his motorcycle’s engine revving is the cue that he’s definitely headed off.

You let yourself back in, acting inconspicuous. But your dad is already waiting with crossed arms. Yuck.

“Did I not tell you several times about hanging around your uncle. He’s a weird guy. I don’t mind him coming over but, god.” He lays into you, mostly just insulting his brother. You roll your eyes as you normally do. You’ve never not had an attitude with your father. He was born to be shit on in your eyes- barely deserved your mom, as is. Besides, He had no backbone whatsoever.

“Just go upstairs.” He asked, cause he never told you to do anything. Just asked and hoped you’d listen. You were pleased enough to have gotten as much as your uncle tonguing your cunt, so you can comply a bit longer. You go upstairs to your room, shutting the door and lying down.

—

It’s a week later when you finally get to see your uncle. You managed to convince your dad to let you borrow his car, ‘cause you’re a broke college student and can’t afford that right now. Plus you’re spoiled but not enough for a car, apparently. Whoops. Probably because your dad knows as soon as he signs the papers, you’re going to drive to his brother’s house and impale yourself on his dick for life. He’d rather you go to college and get a train ran on you or something, at least.

You hoped you had remembered the right place at first, until Leon’s motorcycle was spotted in the lot. Good, he’s home. You still questioned your memory as you were walking up the flights of stairs in the apartment building, tugging down the back of your skirt when you felt it was airing out your ass too much (for any passerbys, not Leon). After reaching the 12th floor and navigating the scarily clean hallway (the few decorations in the area made it less horror-esque), you found the right (?) door. Your knock was soft because again, you weren’t entirely sure. Just going off of childhood memories.

After hearing a shuffle inside, it didn’t take long for it to swing open, Leon standing in the doorway shirtless with a pair of grey, thin sweatpants loose on his hipbones. His v-line was saying hello to you. Hello to you, too.

“Pretty girl! Hey! Thought you’d never come by. Sorry about the attire- been having a lazy day since I’m off work.” He moved aside for you to come in, the door shutting behind you when you accepted the unspoken invitation. His place was nice. A little cluttered with a half-packed suitcase; clothes messily thrown on top and some paperwork and a passport in a heap on the desk nearby, but still nice. Not to mention spacious. Thank god.

“It’s okay, really. You deserve some relaxation time, you know?” You try to be cool and collected- not getting to the main point of your visit. Even if you did have genuine interest in your uncle as a person.

“Isn’t that the truth? Want a drink?” He asked, already walking towards his kitchen. You don’t immediately reply because the sway of his ass is… something else, but you manage to snap yourself from the hypnotizing gaze of it. He’s got a whiskey glass and bottle already on the counter, waiting for a reply.

“Sure.” You tell him, knowing damn well you can’t handle your alcohol. You get all fucking lovey and touchy, and you’ve only drank like 3 times. And sure. You did come here to fuck him, but you were nervous. Okay, never mind. That gives a complete need for liquid courage.

He makes his way to the hallway- switching something on the AC control before sitting on the couch, adjacent from the chair you’re nestled in. You’re taking small sips of the whiskey, burning your throat, sinuses, and any nervousness down like a forest fire. Leon just sits, legs splayed apart like how men always sit. Except you can see his fat-ass dick print. God, kill me now. Or after I’ve sucked it, at least. You see, too, what looks like indents in the fabric- piercings maybe? Or the folds of the pants are sitting weird.

“Did you find the place okay?” He asks, coming off like he cares- which he does- but he’s mostly waiting to get you and himself sloppy for fucking so he’s just stalling now.

You nod, bottom lip tucked into your mouth- if you talk it’s going to be about his dick being huge or his dick being inside you. Leon allows you another deep sip, finishing off the liquid completely.

“I actually remembered how to get here just about perfectly.” You spoke, laughing a little. Yeah, you’d be gone completely in a few minutes. You already felt yourself slipping into a hazy, bubbly state. Leon could tell, too. Good for him. He loved when the girl was sloppier than the pussy attached to her.

“Smart girl. Always have been.” He took a long, heavy drink- finishing off his glass. You watched how his stomach twitched or moved even the slightest when he adjusted himself, the same with his arms. He was muscular yet lean- like he didn’t eat enough some days. Figures. Beauty isn’t easy and he looked good, and maybe that’s why he got plastered all the time so easily. No appetite=no tolerance. However, you were most certainly not afraid to look at the hard work. Even more so with alcohol brewing in your stomach acid and then liver.

Leon patted his leg, fingers drumming on the material of his sweatpants.

“Come sit. You can tell me more about it on your uncle’s lap.” Gross. Gross in the hot way. The gross-hot way you want him to fold and twist you like a pretzel. So no, you don’t abhor the idea of sitting in his lap.

You don’t even hesitate, standing and nearly falling over- realizing you forgot how wobbly your legs could get while inebriated. Leon reached forward to grab your hand and waist, letting you fall directly onto his lap, ass to crotch. Like a puzzle piece. An incestual puzzle piece- which ideally shouldn’t fit together but it just does.

You feel his cock twitch under you; he’s anticipated this, obviously. His hands slid up your thighs, and down again, then back up- like he’s appreciating them.

“Got the prettiest legs, baby. Want them on your uncle’s shoulders, don’t you?” He cooed, scooting you to the edge of his lap just enough to get his cock out of his bottoms. You turn to look behind you, twisting yourself a bit to get a look at it. Christ. One, he was big. The kind of dick that couldn’t stand ‘cause it was heavy and long. Two. It had a few piercings down the front of his shaft, gleaming in the light. So not only were you about to take your first dick, but a pierced one (like you had suspected). Okay…you didn’t remember seeing those the only other time you ever saw his dick by accident. New additions.

Leon stroked your hair with the hand that wasn’t holding his dick.

“Trust me, feels a lot better than it looks. I promise it doesn’t hurt. Even for virgins.” He adds, like he knows that for a fact. “Nothing you can’t handle for me.”

Okay, he’s right. You’d take his fist if it meant his approval, honestly. How bad could it be?

You move to spin yourself around on his lap, Leon’s amused at your eagerness. He holds his cock, spitting down onto it so he can stroke himself while he puts a hand onto your neck. You’re pulled by the hold into a slow, messy, spitty kiss. He’s definitely experienced, as you are not. His tongue makes its way against yours like he’s silently teaching you how to kiss him open mouthed. Not so hard, you think. He groans into your mouth as he handles himself, maneuvering his cock to brush against your underwear; prodding your clothed clit under your skirt.

You mewl against his lips which only spurs him to kiss you a little more rough now, assuming you’re ready for it. Which you definitely don’t mind. His hand squeezes the side of your neck affectionately, a thumb tracing the skin. You’re thankful you’re in his lap because your knees are weak and your head feels dizzy. It was an exchange of sighs and heavy breathing- no distance. Your hands tangled into his dark locks which is something that Leon loved; having his hair pulled (you could tell by his lusty growl and the shift of his hips). He truly was the epitome of a kinky, dirty old man. If pushing 40 was old. Well, to be fair, you did call the dead tree of a table at your parent’s house old, ‘cause it was 40.

He pulled off of you, your now un-joined mouths drippy with saliva.

“Get in between your Uncle’s legs. Wanna see that pretty mouth on this cock.” He urged, and you found yourself with your calves folded under you in between his parted thighs. He held his cock proudly, and to be honest, the piercings look daunting. How did you even expect yourself to suck on it like you’ve seen in porn? Maybe you should have spent more time watching guys with pierced dicks instead of the step category. You had a preference, clearly.

You snaked your hands up to him, holding his cock with a puzzled look clear on your face. Leon laughed, not like he was laughing at you but the way you laugh at someone when you think what they’re doing is cute.

“Don’t worry about them too much, gorgeous. Just do it how you think you would normally. But pay careful attention with your tongue. Won’t hurt me any, promise.” He reassures you thoroughly, chuckling through a sexually intense gaze. Okay, it seems…. easy enough. Didn’t know dirty old uncles could be so sweet about having their dick sucked.

You lean forward, Leon guiding the head to your mouth.

“Just go slow and focus on the tip. Don’t want my girl to be uncomfortable, now do I?” His girl? You liked the sound of that. Enjoyed it very much. You’d be his girl wherever and whenever. You took him past your lips- suckling on the tip softly and swirling your tongue around it.

“Just like that- fuck- you’re doing great, babydoll.”

The praise edged you on, and you managed enough confidence to glide your tongue down his shaft and over the piercings- flicking over them pornographically. You felt like it was just right. If fucking your uncle could be right in any way of the sense. Leon groaned and his head fell back onto the couch. A large hand found its way to your hair, holding it into a makeshift ponytail. You discovered that it wasn’t too daunting- it was possible to bob your head a little while keeping your tongue exploring the piercings in small swirls and flicks. Just makes your jaw a little tired faster. Besides, seems less scary than taking it inside you.

It’s an alternation of the previous movements and kitten licking up the front of him, and the adornments on his skin only seem to make everything feel much more stimulating. His breath deepens and he guides you now with your hair in hand- looking down at you through deep-brown bangs.

“Fuck- that’s it. Just look at you, dirty little niece I’ve got here, sucking her uncle’s cock like she was made for it. God- so damned pretty with your tongue on me.” His head falls back again for a moment, before he sits up- his labored panting evident.

“Christ. Okay- can’t take it anymore. C’mon, baby. Up.” He says, smacking your bottom when you stand in front of him. You’re feeling a bit ‘five seconds away from crashing into the coffee table and impaling yourself on the broken wood’ type of drunk now.

“Uncle Leon’s gonna pop that cherry, got it? Now sit down and let me lick that sweet pussy. Can still taste it after last time.” He’s speaking filthy things you should hear and run in the opposite direction from- but you don’t.

“My room. Remember where that is?” He mumbles, standing behind you now while he runs his hands down your sides- possessively grabbing at any fabric on you.

You shake your head no.

“Can’t remember. Need you to show me.” You whisper to him, putting your hands over his on your sides. He just muffles a laugh into the crook of your neck and shuffles you along in front of him, the two of you almost falling over multiple times on the way to his bedroom. You’re sure that something did get knocked off the wall at one point, but you literally do not care in any way.

Leon staggers you into the room and pushes you back onto the bed, shedding off his sweatpants. Naked, no boxers. Just full, thick cock and a trail of hair leading up to his belly-button that you haven’t let your eyes leave for however long you’ve been here. Oh, and muscled thighs. One of the greater parts of a man. His hands find their way to your thighs, tugging you to the edge of the bed before invading his thumbs into the waistband of your panties.

“Let’s get these off.” He grunts, pulling them down your legs and tossing them only for the undergarment to land in an unseen place. You go to tug off your skirt, until his hands pin yours to the bed.

“Want you to keep that on. Looks cute.” He says, retracting from you and sinking down at the edge of the bed. In no wasted time, his mouth is lazily lapping at your cunt- making your back bend in the reaction of immediate, overwhelming pleasure. You grabbed at the sheets until you remembered how his body responded when you pulled at his hair- so you found your hold there instead. Tugging his darkened strands with the pace he was eating you out at- stubble against your pussy and nose in your mound. His cheeks tickled your thighs, punching out a soft giggle and squirm from your body between the moaning. It makes him smile into you- reaching a hand up to knead your breast. Honestly, you hoped that the roof caved in right now and took you to your death because no moment would be better than this and that in itself made you suicidal.

You feel a finger slip past your hole, curling itself into that soft wall of fleshy, orgasmic sponge. The noise that left you was new, for sure and the muscle in his mouth jerked against your clit in tandem. It seemed Leon had the same deep feeling and worry you did about his dick even fitting, cause he added a second finger. Then tried to add a third but gave up because he actually wanted his dick to do that labor. He can be selfish, okay? It didn’t take long for you to cum either, duh. He was a skilled whore of a man and you’re a virgin. Or will be for only a few more minutes- probably less.

Your legs shake and tense, your heart thumps viciously, and your fingers threaten to tangle his hair into knots and make him start balding. Not happening no matter how hard you yank, though. His genes are too good for that. He was made for rough pulls to his mane. Made to take damage both mentally and physically. Made for splitting open cute, slutty nieces like you.

While you recovered, he licked his lips and fingers as clean as he could- missing the further parts of his stubbled cheeks. He stood up, hand on his lower back (‘cause duh, he’s old as dirt), and reached into the nightstand for a condom- which you gave him a look before he could open it. A look that told him ‘please, please, please don’t put it on! sure, fuck your blood-relative niece raw and possibly knock her up! Might not have to worry because you’re an alcoholic and your sperm quality is low, though.’ So fuck away.

He was a sucker for your big, glossy eyes and the slutty pout of your bottom lip. Not mentioning- he wouldn’t have worn a condom anyway. Would have just slipped it off before he stuck his dick in you. A virgin couldn’t tell the difference. What? You expected a man that fucks his own family to have morals for things lesser than that? No chance.

“Please, Uncle.” You begged softly, Leon knowing what you want without actually saying it. He’s great at reading people.

“Fucking hell. You’re something else. You want it that bad, huh?” He laughed, pleased by you beseeching him with so little words. You nodded, no objections about it. He tossed the unopened condom back in the drawer and shut it impatiently, making the lamp wobble.

“Changed my mind. Everything off. Gotta see that pretty set of tits.” The words were matter of fact and laced with a bit of erection-fueled urgency.

You reach your hands up to remove your shirt, then discard your bra and skirt. Left in the nude as naked as the day you were cut from your moms stomach. C-section baby and all that. Only this time there was no blood. Yet, anyways.

When you were stark naked, Leon pushed you firmly onto his bed again- folding you by the backs of your thighs, legs pressed to your chest and gifting your stomach with that cute roll thing it did. Leon liked that on a woman.

He grabbed his cock, positioning it against your slick that dribbled from your yet-to-be-abused hole. He was gonna change that. You could feel his one of the piercings resting against your skin down below- a tsunami of anxiety settling over your delicate village of a body.

“Might hurt a little, babydoll. Can’t promise I’m gonna be gentle with her.” He referred to your pussy, your hole fluttering when he talked. You gave a look of understanding and acknowledgement.

“God, want it so bad.” You whined under him, the position he had your legs in made you even crazier about having him in you, like, yesterday.

He didn’t savor the moment so that he could push into you, he just did it. The feeling of each piercing bumping your hole on the way in. It felt fucking good, but also his dick stretching you out was intense and stung like a papercut.

His hands held your thighs down into your stomach- giving you a novice contortionist experience, and you could see the veins in his forearm pop a little. Your mind raced with the following anxieties; ‘What if a piercing cuts my insides and I die from sepsis or something? What if a piercing ball comes off and is lost inside me forever? Maybe I should stretch more.’ The first two were irrational but maybe not so much so, or else you wouldn’t be thinking of them. You’re not the first woman to think any of it.

“Fuck- there we go. Shit. You feel incredible, baby.” He dropped the doll in favor of calling you baby this time, making you squeeze around him as he bottoms out, balls against your ass. Yep. A bruised cervix was in your future. Going to have to come up with an excuse for why you won’t be able to get out of bed for the next few days. You thought other girls were just exaggerating this whole time about feeling yourself be split open, what the hell was he trying to do? Dig out your uterus with his dick? Does he really have to be so deep? It’s, like, really hot and feels really fucking good, but also, slightly uncomfortable. Maybe it’s the position.

Either way, he’s feeding your ego.

You let your head relax onto the bed instead of continuing to hold it up, ‘cause doing that was much more painful.

“God.” You muttered, relieved to be full and get the virginity loss out of the way. You should be getting a cake and celebration for this, if it wasn’t your uncle. But still. Taking big, pierced dick deemed trophy worthy. Or maybe a plaque.

Leon gazed down at you through straight locks, shaking them out of his face a little. He pulled himself out, minus the tip, before pushing back in with a groan- his Adam’s Apple bobbing hypnotically. Your spine arched, lifting your back off the mattress and your hands dug into your own thighs, helping hold them in place.

“You like that, huh?” He asked, the difference between it being pure hormones and condescension was blurred. Could have been both. He doesn’t give that much of a timeframe to start dragging his cock in and out of you, slowly picking up speed and bottoming out each time- balls slapping against your bottom.

You babble nonsensically, the ribbed sensation of his piercings almost sending you into hysterics. Something about yes, yes. I love it. Need you to fuck me so hard that my dad disowns me because I’m wheelchair bound and he knows why.

“Feels good, baby. I know it. Bet it’s hitting places you didn’t even know you had.” If he wasn’t so fucking hot, you’d probably have the ick from how cocky he is. Or not, you’re fucked up.

He leaned forward over you more to tangle into your hair, guiding your head to more of an angle and exposing your neck. You were so overwhelmed from how hard and deep he’s fucking you, not to mention his dick feels like how you imagine a beginner level bad dragon dildo to feel. Or maybe a less monster-y version anyways. It just feels fucking good and that’s all you needed to care about. Soft, airy cries crawl their way from your throat and leave you between that and moaning. Uncle, please. Please, please, please, harder.

“Let it all out, that’s it. Uncle Leon’s gonna take good care of this pussy.”

You nod as much as you can with his hold on your hair, and he pants into your collarbone, sweaty and nasty on top of you. You feel like you’re almost being crushed under his weight but it’s only hotter, and gets even more when you feel his free hand slip between your damp bodies to thumb your aching and still-sensitive clit. You tighten around his cock in reaction- gasping.

“Take it, babydoll. Fuck. Show me how much you want your uncle to make you cum. Belong on my cock, you know it?”

Your brain is off somewhere in a hot air balloon, far from its preferred skull. Which is yours. He speaks in ways you didn’t imagine you’d ever get to be spoken to or even enjoy. But it’ll be the only thing that gets you off from now on, no doubt about it.

“Uh huh, belong on your dick forever. Never wanna take it out.” Yeah. You’re stupid for him.

“Fuck. That’s my girl. Keep talking like that and I’m not ever letting you go.”

You nod your head.

“Want that, want that so bad. ‘D let you fuck me whenever you want, uncle.”

His lips curl into a half-pressed grin before he’s panting again- a bead of sweat dripping onto him. You remember he did something with the AC. Yeah-to the heat in the apartment is frying you good and well. Guess he wanted the sex to be extra clammy and gross. You know, besides the incest.

“Christ. Fuck, yes.” He groans deep, throaty and carnal.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you. You’d be the prettiest little girlfriend. Sitting around waiting to get fucked all the time. I know how needy my baby is.” Christ. You’re going to the deepest abyss in hell. You’re sure whatever torment awaits is worth it though, so it’s not a big deal right now.

“Wanna be yours.” You choke, throat dry. Ah, you remember you’re intoxicated. That must be why you’re so loose at saying this stuff.

“Open up.” He huffs, almost face to face with you but still enough that his breath is hot on your features. You’re hasty to open your mouth like a whore, Leon dribbling his gathered spit down onto your tongue.

“Gotta keep you hydrated, baby. Can’t have that throat getting raw, can we?” You nod, there’s so many nasty things happening you can’t process it properly- unaware of everything as you cum a second time on his hand, squeezing his dick like a much softer and less dangerous guillotine.

His thrusts were a little more sloppy and erratic- alcohol fully set in for the both of you. Normally, he’d be able to hold off his orgasm a little longer- but combatting it wasn’t an option in this drunken state.

“Christ- so fucking pretty and tight when you cum on my dick. Gonna cum too, baby. Don’t think I can pull out right now.”

You shake your head no.

“Don’t pull out, please. Please uncle, ‘ll do whatever you want.”

He laughs brokenly, choked up from the moans that need to come out first.

“God, yes. Okay. Gonna fill this sweet pussy up, baby.”

He focuses a few more thrusts, hard enough to make it hurt a little and sloppy enough to still be just the right amount of perfect.

“Here it comes, baby. Need you to take i- shit.” He buried deep inside you as he came hard, rasped voice and all while he held his place firm. His hair is stuck to his face in some areas, his natural scent emanating off of the sweat droplets.

His dick spasms inside you, filling you with every bit of semen he’s got pent up in him. You could almost feel the way your cunt was full of his cum, having no room around his dick to go anywhere, really.

He relaxed a little, letting out a long, pleasurable groan. You yourself joined him in letting your body go limp as it could in this position. He grabbed your legs to straighten them out and let them wrap around his waist, making you realize they were folded too long and that they ache a bit.

He kissed your collarbone, picking up his head and kissing your cheek next.

“Mm. Did so great for me, babydoll. Not gonna be able to let you go now.” He teased, another peck to your mouth that you managed to reciprocate just in time.

“Then don’t.” You tell him, mumbling.

“I can manage that. Could easily be my girl. Would have to be our little secret, though.” He adds at the end, threading his fingers in your hair.

Yeah, you’re not turning down that offer.

[babyjakes]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | knotting

pairing | alpha!steve rogers x omega!reader

warnings | omegaverse elements: knotting, mating press, breeding (and me not knowing like anything about the omegaverse.) unprotected p in v. clit rubbing. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. crying kink. breeding kink (like fr he wants her pregnant lol.) he comes in her. some brief aftercare. alpha!steve is so hot and powerful it's ruining my life.

word count | 859

an | i've wanted to write something substantial for an omegaverse au for sooo long but i've just been so hesitant to bc i don't feel super well-versed in the genre. shoutout to @starksbabie, ao3, and my google images search for teaching me everything i know about knotting LOL. and @brandycranby for teaching me about the mating press lol. if i got anything wrong, please let me know!!

imagine being alpha!steve's prized omega and mate, being fucked and bred by him during your heat 🤤 (nomad!steve is what comes to mind first, but i've also had a soft spot for endgame look for the longest time, so i'll let you take your pick 😉)

steve's the kind of alpha that doesn't let you lift a single finger (in or out of heat); everything's always done for you because duh!! you're his baby!! this is especially true when it comes to sex during your heat. your only job is to be pleasured and bred. your alpha will do everything for you, no need to worry your pretty little head 💕

thinking about him spreading you out on your back, bringing your bottom up to the edge of the bed so he can stand over you and pound into you as you lay there and take it. he gets you nice and comfy, laying a blanket down beneath you and positioning a pillow under your head to make it easier for you to look up and keep eye contact. of course, he knows you'll spend much of the ordeal with your eyes closed or rolled back in bliss 😏

the number one thing you crave during your heat is the feeling of being filled up, and by now steve's fucked you enough to make you crave being filled by him specifically. he's massive, even for an alpha. long, thick, and unbelievably powerful. because of his overwhelming size and strength, he has to maintain a good balance of fucking you hard enough to satisfy you both, but not too hard to prevent injury

the look on his face as he's ramming into you is a mixture of such pure love and authority. he absolutely talks you through it 😔🙏 you're so overcome with pleasure, he understands it's hard for you to do much talking back

sliding in and out of you at a steady speed, watching as your face is washed over with relief as you finally get what you need. "there you go, honey," smiling as he sees your tummy trembling as it's filled up, "gonna keep fucking this pretty little pussy, just keep being my good girl and taking it. let me give you what you need, doll"

bringing his thumb up to swipe over your quivering clit, always a little eager and impatient with how much he loves to see you come. crooning as you whine and wriggle at the burning feeling he's creating, "i know, baby. i know- so sensitive there, aren't you? look at this pretty little clit. so needy for me"

"nng... n-nnn," he loves the soft, weak little noises you're making. and he loves it even more as they gradually grow louder and more desperate, signaling your building climax

he's working his thumb quicker over your slick button to help keep the pressure rising, "c'mon baby, almost there. you gonna come for me? let's see if we rub a little faster-... oh-" he gasps almost mockingly with a smug smile, praising you heavily as you clench down on his swollen length

and god he could never get tired of seeing you coming. watching as your little face scrunches, your toes curling up in delight, your tummy spasming helplessly as you stammer through a string of angelic, breathy whimpers

"goood, so good for me, baby. keep coming for me, that's it," he draws out his words as you're coming down from your first high. your big, watery eyes and soft little squeaks, paired with having just seen you come, and knowing how sensitive and overstimulated you feel now?? it all makes steve's eyes burn as the heat and primal urges within him rise

it doesn't take long for him to near the edge himself. his large hands come down to manhandle you into position, grabbing under your thighs to force them up, your feet splaying out in the air as he leans himself down over you, his speed and forcefulness bringing tears to your eyes

"gonna come, sweetheart. you want me to fill you up? wanna carry my pups in that pretty little tummy of yours? come on, baby-... shit, that's it-.. f-fuck-"

the feeling of his base rounding out inside you has you crying out weakly, your entire body bracing as you feel the pressure in your core reaching its limit. as the heavy band snaps, your poor, helpless form seizes and spasms beneath your alpha. steve's heavy load shoots into you, the tight mass bulging just inside your entrance locking him inside, forcing you to take what you're given

seconds feel like hours. eventually everything fades to soft tingles as the silence is filled by your and steve's heavy breathing. as soon as he's able, he's shifting so delicately hold you against him, his thick knot still pulsing inside you hard enough to let you feel his heartbeat. "shhh, shhh," he's wiping away the tears that escaped down your cheeks, letting you rest your face in the crook of his neck to breathe in his familiar scent. "i got you, doll. just rest now. close your eyes, i'll take care of you"

[runningfrom2am]

Okay! Ik ur not talking request rn but I’ve had this thought for a lil bit but rafe w hs Teacher!reader, who he likes to visit during her lunch time aka study hall time, and the students adore him and like since it’s hs the girls like find his so attractive( bc mf is) 🤭

okay this request is SO self-indulgent for me bc i'm like a year out from becoming a hs teacher myself like AH that's the dream so i love you so so much for this whoever you are i could give you the biggest hug rn thank you so so much for this idea!!

study hall - r.c.

pairing: husband!rafe x teacher!reader

wc: 1.6k

tags/warnings: fluff and almost nothing else. rafe is a perfect boyfriend bc,, duh? also not very canon of him honestly.

requests currently closed but feel free to send stuff in! it just might take me a while to get around to it :)

nav/masterlists

"Okay that's the lecture, we've got about a minute before the bell here... does anyone have any questions?" You finish up your slides, checking the time briefly as you close up the powerpoint from your laptop and turn off the projector.

A couple of hands shoot up and you gaze over the class waiting briefly for anymore. "Okay, we'll do Max, and then Lacy. Fire off." You point to the two of them in order.

"Can we get an extension on the essay?" Max asks quickly and you laugh. "It's not due for another week! How can you be behind already?" Judging by the reaction of the rest of the class chattering off their agreement, you nod. "Okay, okay. Fine. Yes, you can hand it in on the Monday instead of Friday, but that is giving you two extra days so I won't be giving any more extensions. Got it?"

Collectively the class sighs in relief, a chorus of thank you's and chatter following. "Okay, Lacy, you had a question?" You interrupt everyone to ask, thinking maybe someone else might have the same question and want to hear the answer.

"Is Mr. Cameron coming to study hall today?" She asks, round cheeks flushed as the other girls in the class whip their heads towards you to listen.

"Okay." You laugh, sitting down in your chair content that you won't need to pull up any slides to revisit anything. "Thank you for reminding me, I do have study hall today so if anybody does have any serious questions about the lecture or the essay please hang around after the bell." You say, avoiding most of the question.

You hear the voice of almost every girl in the class speak up at once, all resulting in more or less the same question about whether or not your boyfriend would be coming again to eat with you like he usually does on Fridays.

He was very popular among the girls you taught, which doesn't surprise you. You'd be lying if you said your boyfriend wasn't ridiculously handsome, but it was sometimes a point of contention with the other faculty you worked with. They thought it was extremely unprofessional that he would come in just for the girls to ogle at- but strangely it wasn't a problem when they had their partners come in for lunch at the same time. You knew it wasn't your fault and you weren't doing anything wrong, but just a result of upset from them designating study hall for students and many girls would spend time in your class instead during the lunch hour.

Just then the bell rang, and many students began packing up to leave either to go to other classes for study or to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.

"Alright! Don't forget the readings for next class, please, I may or may not be quizzing you on it just to make sure! Have a good day everyone!" You call out over the loud sounds of students filling the halls and talking.

You sigh with a smile and grab your water bottle, taking a sip to ease your dry throat after an hour of non-stop talking. You look up, humming in acknowledgement at the three girls leaning over your desk. "Question?" You ask, already knowing what they're after.

"Is Mr. Cameron coming?" Lacy's friend, Chloe asks and you smile, shrugging.

"Maybe, you'll have to stay for my study hall to find out."

"Come on just tell us!" Lacy groans, but before you can respond you're interrupted by a knock on your door frame.

"Ms. Y/L/N, I brought your lunch." You smile at your boyfriend standing at the door, lunch bag and coffee in hand.

"Hi." You chuckle, looking at the girls knowingly who already look like they're melting. You get up and greet him at the door, grabbing another chair to pull over to your desk for him to join you.

“Hi Mr. Cameron.” Lacy smiles, sitting down in the desk closest to yours and batting her lashes at him.

“Hi there.” Rafe says politely with an awkward smile, digging through the lunch bag he brought for you and handing you snacks out of it.

“Girls, go get your lunches, please.” You tell them, and they all somehow simultaneously roll their eyes.

“You just want us to leave so you can be alone with your boyfriend.” Chloe teases you and you laugh, shaking your head.

“No, I want you to go get your lunches so you can give your bodies the nutrients they need to learn. I’m not going to be held responsible for you girls missing meals.” You reply sincerely before taking a sip of your coffee. “And I promise, Mr. Cameron will still be here when you get back. Now, go.”

You gesture to the door and the girls sigh, getting up and filing out the door.

“You’re the only reason I ever have anyone in my study hall.” You giggle quietly once they’re gone. “There are no girls in study hall on Monday or Wednesday.”

“No way, Ms. Y/L/N is their favourite teacher, obviously.”

“Or my class is the hardest and my very hot boyfriend comes to eat with me during Friday study hall.”

“Your class is easy!” Rafe laughs, reaching up to brush away some hair that stuck to your cheek as you’re eating.

“You’ve never taken it, how would you know?”

“Well, if you were my teacher when I was in school… I’d be in here every day. “The boys don’t come on Fridays because they’re jealous of me…” He says smugly, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

You blush as you playfully push him away, glancing towards the open door to make sure no students saw. “Yeah, you’d be in here because you’d need help with Shakespeare, and they do too.”

Rafe gasped in mock offense, then shakes his head. “That’s messed up. I’m offended.”

You shrug. “It’s tough stuff if you’ve never read it before.”

“We’re back!” You both look up at the door as Lacy and her friends make their way back in, lunches in hand this time. “Did you miss us?”

“Welcome back, ladies. Did you bring some homework with you?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at them.

“Duh, Ms. Y/L/N. Who do you think we are?”

“I just wanted to make sure. Study hall is for studying, not chatting.”

They all get comfy in their seats around the desk across from yours, phones immediately out with no work to be seen.

“Hey, Mr. Cameron?” Chloe asks, leaning on her upturned palm as she grabs his attention and he hums in acknowledgement. “What’s your first name?”

“Rafe.” He answers, not thinking for a second that maybe it’s not allowed.

“That’s a great name. Like, really cool.” Lacy sighs, smiling at him.

“Why, thank you.” Rafe grins, nudging your shoulder. He eats this attention up every time, and it’s fun to joke about when you’re at home- but sometimes you think it’s bad for his ego.

“Can we call you Rafe?”

“If you want.” He shrugs.

“No, nope. He’s Mr. Cameron to you, sorry to disappoint.” You chuckle.

“But he said we can call him that!” Chloe whines, looking at you pleadingly.

“Sure, but the school board says otherwise. As long as we’re on school grounds you don’t even know his name, got it?”

“Yes ma’am.” They agree, giggling to themselves. “It’ll be our secret. Scouts honour.”

“None of you are scouts!” You laugh.

The girls just look at each other and shrug.

By now other students have filtered in, and luckily with tests coming up in all your blocks, a lot of studying is actually happening and less harassing of your boyfriend.

“Hey,” Rafe whispers, leaning closer to you which draws the attention of the girls in the front row who are straining to listen. “Can we take the yacht out this weekend? Maybe go for dinner or something on the mainland?” He whispers, smiling at you hopefully.

“Yeah, that would be nice. We could make a weekend out of it, I don’t have much grading to do.” You agree quietly and he seems excited, smiling and patting your leg before returning to his book that he had just picked up off your desk to skim through while you ate.

Come Monday morning, you’re getting ready for the bell to ring to signal the start of the first block. Once your whiteboard is ready with the notes for the day, you smile to yourself in anticipation as you sip your coffee. The bell rings, and students are quick to make their way in and to their desks.

“Oh. My. God.” Lacy stops in her tracks at the door, holding her arms out in front of her friends on either side of her as she stares at the whiteboard, and then looks over to you. “You’re joking!” She almost screams, clapping excitedly and running up to your desk to examine your hand while all the other students look up to the board in confusion, hoping for some answers as to what Lacy and Chloe are squealing about.

On your board, you had changed your name in the corner to a short statement:

‘You can call me Mrs. Cameron’

taglist: @rafeoccasionally , @bookishbabyyy , @madelynie , @whore-4-drewstarkey , @slut4drudy , @winterrrnight , @totalswag , @sadfury , @fullfledgedemo , @rafemotherfuckingcameron , @urfaveluvr , @chenslucy , @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea , @tahliac11 , @saccharinesammie , @ietss , @maybankslover , @redhead1180 , @suzyheartsrafe , @wpdailyminimeta , @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly , @lovelyxtommy, @thelomlisrafecameron , @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles , @flonkertn , @whtvrrafe

[mountainsandmayhem]

Wings. Fire. Magic. Part Four

18+, Minors Do Not Interact

DragonTrainer!Joel x Female!Reader

Summary: Joel has to follow through on his deal with The King, the two of you share tender moments, and maybe you don't want to go home after all. Dragon divider by @saradika-graphics CW: 18+, p in v sex (wrap it up folks), mean Joel but also tender Joel. Praise (duh, it's Joel), dirty talk, female and male orgasms WC: 6K

Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three

Fuck. I’m dead. So very dead.

The terrifying milky coloured dragon is going to incinerate you.  You can see building in his throat as he roars at you. The last one was so loud that you clamped your hands over your ears and started to back away. Your family flashes before your eyes. Your mom is about to celebrate her one thousandth name day, she’d ask for those little mushroom and cheese pastry puffs she loves so much, your dad would make some joke about her being older than him, even though just a fortnight later he’d be celebrating his same name day. 

“Eaaasssyyy,” you say shakily to the dragon, your hands are trembling as you move them from your ears, holding them up to try to calm him. 

Suddenly you’re being pushed to the side, hitting the ground hard, rolling over yourself a few times. The wind is knocked out of you and you roll onto your back to try to get oxygen, gasping against the invisible hands restricting your lungs. You can see Joel standing in front of the dragon in just his tight black boxers. The sunrise casts flecks of gold around his tight and tanned skin, more tattoos swirl around his back, as well as 3 thick scars from his left shoulder to the middle of his back. They’re not new, but still raised and pinkish in colour. 

“Whoa whoa whoa,” he says loudly, holding his arms up, palms facing out to the dragon. “Uvri, easy boy.” 

The dragon pauses, sniffing slightly at Joel before lowering himself and folding his wings back into his body. 

“There you go.” he praises the dragon, still with a tinge of fear on the edge of his voice, “That’s it. Easy.” 

The dragon touches his nose to one of Joel’s palms and then peaks behind him at you. “She is our friend. It’s ok.”  

You slowly stand up and Uvri side eyes you. “Sorry,” you say to both Joel and the dragon. 

Uvri turns back to the eggs, his large scaled body nestling around them. He lets out a content hum and shuts his eyes. Joel grabs your shoulders, eyes raking over you with concern. “Are you ok?” 

“I’m fine, Joel.” You look away from him, your cheeks heat at how you touched yourself to thoughts of him last night while you were tucked into the soft sheets of your bed. And now he’s here in just his boxers holding your face and looking at you like you’re the most important thing in the world. 

His hands cup your face gently with his large palms, “Sweetheart, not all dragons are Rem. She doesn’t know she’s a dragon if I’m being honest. You have to be careful out here.” 

“Ok. I’m sorry.” His eyes trail down each of your arms, hands not moving from your cheeks and even though you’re completely clothed, it all feels a little too intimate. When he doesn’t see any injuries he seems to start breathing again, his muscular chest expanding as air fills his lungs.  

“We need to talk about The King, I have to go back before those eggs hatch.” His hands slide to your shoulders as he continues, “I need you to trust me, and after we see The King I will take you to see your family. We’ll make sure they’re taken care of.” 

Your eyes fall to Joel’s strong bare chest, landing on the small hand tattoo over his heart. His hands fall from your shoulders and he smiles awkwardly at you. He’s suddenly aware that he’s practically naked. The animals of the forest around you start to wave up. Birds chirping, chipmunks chattering, the air seems to come alive. The morning sun is finally high enough to peek through the trees and warm your face. 

“You should probably get dressed before we talk,” you laugh. You and Joel walk side by side back towards the log cabin and you fight the urge to ask about the small hand tattoo over his heart. “How many dragons do you have?” 

“Umm,” he rubs the back of his neck nervously, bicep flexing, “I have five. They live around the woods here.” 

“And they just stay?” you ask. Considering you were stealing an egg you know very little, almost nothing actually, about dragons. 

“Dragons are loyal. They might leave for food, but they come back each night.” 

Joel opens the back door and you head into the kitchen, propping yourself up on one of the stools. The log cabin is somehow more gorgeous in the morning sunlight. Joel’s half naked body putters around the kitchen, he pops open an airtight canister and the smell of coffee beans fills the room. When he turns back to you, you avert your eyes, looking down at the granite island. 

“Is being in your underwear an important part of this plan? Or?” You feel your cheeks heating. 

“Shit, sorry. My adrenaline is up here,” he raises an arm above his head and you glance over to see all the muscles in his abdomen flexing as he reaches. “Just, stay there. Please.” 

Joel disappears down the hallway and you finally understand what humans mean when they say ‘hate to see you go but love to watch you leave’, the tight boxers hug the strong globes of his ass, the soft fabric straining against his muscular thighs. But what really draws your eye are the two dimples in his lower back, just above the waist band. Your mouth waters at the sight of him.

When he returns the coffee is brewed and, since you already scared Joel half to death, you listen and stay on your stool. He pours you a cup of coffee and slides it across the counter to you, along with cream and sugar for you to add. You give him a tight lipped smile. 

“Rem and Uvri have five eggs that are going to hatch soon.” He says as he stirs a little bit of cream in his coffee, “I am going to leave tomorrow to take three of those eggs.” 

“Is Remmer going to be ok?” You can’t imagine she’ll be happy to have three of her babies taken from her, she’s so sweet and gentle. “You can’t give away your dragons.” 

“No, she’s probably going to be very upset with me,” he places his coffee down and opens the fridge, pulling out eggs and bacon. “But remember how I told you dragons are extremely loyal?” 

“Yes,” you’re starting to feel that guilt again, being taken care of while your family is struggling and probably worried sick about you. 

“You stole that egg, but once it hatched, the dragon would find its way back here.” you hear the tick-tick-whoosh of the stove before he grabs two pans and puts them over the flame. “They’ll always find their way back to their family.”

“Ok,” you say curiously. “So, what about me?” 

“You’re staying here.” he says firmly, his back to you as he puts the bacon in the pan, the sound and smell of the fat sizzling causes your stomach to growl. 

“No, Joel,” you argue, “ You have to make The King think you hate me more than he does” 

He turns to face you, crossing his arms across his chest. “No.” 

“Joel, you have to.” You practically beg him, he turns around and cracks eggs in the second pan, avoiding your eyes as best he can. He already knows he has to take you, but he is a stubborn man, and if you start begging or look at him with those big sad eyes he’ll break. “If he knew that I slept in a big plush comfy bed or soaked in a bubble bath. I’m supposed to be your slave.” 

Joel shakes his head. “I’m taking him the eggs. You’re staying here. I’m not bringing you back there. I cannot bring you back there.” 

You wrap your hands around your coffee cup and bring it to your lips. He cannot bring you back there. You already know that there’s no arguing with him, even when he knows you’re right. Actually, especially when he knows you’re right. He’ll come around, he just needs to do it on his own time.  

After breakfast Joel tells you he’s going into the village to get you clothes and boots, and after a stern warning to stay out of the woods, he hops on his horse and off he goes. You spend the afternoon close to the house, wandering outside but staying clear of the woods. Around one side of the house is a large garden, vegetables sprout up every which direction and nothing is labeled. On the other side of the house, just below your bedroom window, is a flagstone patio with a large fire pit, wooden chairs and a bench. Everything outside of the house looks like it belongs there, like the earth put it there itself. You sit on the bench and start making a small fire. You catch Rem watching you from the tree line. You smile at her, but she stays near a peculiar tree; stark, white bark and a large canopy of deep purple leaves. It’s the only leafy tree in the area, the whole property is surrounded by large conifers, how that tree even exists is beyond you. 

Once the fire has started, you head into the house to get a bowl to start picking ripe vegetables. The sun is starting to set and you may as well make yourself useful and make dinner. After picking carrots, beets, potatoes, green beans and a handful of fresh herbs, you skip back into the house. You spotted chicken in the fridge this morning, so you take it out and rub it with oil, sprinkling the fresh herbs on top. Next, you chop all the vegetables up. Unlike Joel, who can just reach up and grab the cast iron pans hanging above the island, you have to climb up and stand on the counter to grab them. You take everything outside and start cooking. 

Dinner is almost ready when Joel's deep voice floats across the back yard, “Hi.”

“Hi.” You smile sheepishly at him over your shoulder.  

“Something smells amazing.” The fire pops and crackles, birds chirping in the woods calling to each other.  

You turn back to the fire, stirring the veggies. “I figured I could make myself useful”

“Thank you. You don’t need to do that.” 

You pat the bench beside you and Joel comes to sit beside you, knees grazing one another. You both look at the purple tree in front of you. 

“Can I -“ you start. Joel saying, “how’s your -“ at the same time. 

You both laugh quietly and you say, “you go first.” 

“How’s your back?” he asks, you glance over at him and he’s looking at you with that same big eyed concern he had this morning when you stumbled into Uvri.

“I think better.” you roll your shoulders backwards slowly, testing the muscles and checking for pain. Joel notices the slight wince in your face, “I have more movement in my arms but it still feels like I got trampled.” 

“I put some muscle relaxing oil in your room with your new clothes.” He says it so casually and your heart flutters as you thank him. Someone doing something for you is still so foreign. Are you that deprived of the goodness of humanity that you let one little act turn you all gooey? 

Joel’s knee nudges yours, bringing you back to reality. “What were you going to say?” 

“I was going to ask about that tree,” your eyes peel away from Joel’s.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says, hand coming up subconsciously to his heart. The sadness practically etched across his face. 

“The tattoo?” You ask. 

“It’s - umm - that’s where my daughter is.” He says, avoiding looking at you and the tree, instead he grabs the metal poker and starts to stir the fiery orange coals. You don’t press him, somehow you know that he’ll talk when he’s ready. “So I think you’re right. You have to come with me.” 

You nod, you were right not to push. Joel does everything methodically, he doesn’t jump in. You clear the fear out of your throat, fear that feels like shards of glass and say, “Make him think you hate me.” 

“Problem is,” he stands, sliding on a large mitt and grabbing one of the cast iron pans off the fire grill, “I don’t hate you. Not in the slightest.” 

Dinner was silent between the two of you and you went to your bedroom early, exhausted from the last few days but full of nervous anticipation for what was to come. You drift off easily, falling into a deep and dreamless sleep. A distant roar causes you to stir, rolling over and pulling the blankets up around your neck. You hear yelling in the distance and it slowly brings you to be fully conscious. Now awake you can hear it more clearly - it’s Joel. He’s yelling. You shoot out of your bed and creep into the hallway, his door is closed, “No, leave her.” 

You knock gently, his bed creaking under him as he tosses around his sheets. You open the door a crack, peeking in. His eyes are clamped shut, a pained look on his face. His curls are sweaty and slick to his forehead. He’s twitching and mumbling. 

“Joel,” you whisper, walking over to him slowly. He thrashes again, violently this time. “Joel,” you repeat, a little louder as your hand reaches out to him. As soon as your palm touches his shoulder he grabs your wrist, jerking you violently and flipping you onto the bed below him. You’re trapped under his large, muscular and naked form. His eyes are glazed over, rage and anger contorting his features. 

“Joel!” You practically yell it this time and when he blinks you slowly start to come into focus. He shakes his head, blinking quickly as his breathing starts to calm.

“Fuck,” he huffs, almost leaping off of you, covering himself with his hands before finding some underwear.

“You were having a nightmare,” you whisper, walking over to him. “Are you ok?”

“Did I hurt you?” He’s back, that soft and caring man that you’re starting to fall for. The moonlight paints the room in a light glow.

“No, I’m fine,” you reach out to touch him and he steps away, “Joel, are you ok?”

Joel wanders back to his bed and starts to straighten out the sheets, “I’m fine.”

“Ok,” you say, uncertainty waving through the word, “I’ll just…” you start to leave as he crawls back into his soft sheets.

He calls your name, when you look back at him he’s on his side, back towards you. “Ya?” you whisper.

His voice is sad and cracks a little as he asks, “Please stay.”

You smile to yourself and pad over to him, gently crawling in behind him. You’re not sure what comes over you or makes you feel so bold, but you press the front of your body to his warm back, one arm bending under your pillow, the other draping across his waist, your face nuzzled between his strong shoulder muscles. He’s tense for a second before he relaxes into you. Neither of you speak, and when his breathing gets relaxed and heavy, you place a gentle kiss to his shoulder blade and fall asleep. 

It feels like minutes later when Remmer’s cries have you rushing from Joel’s empty bed to look at the large window. You see him heading towards the house with a small wooden chest, Uvri follows along behind him, saddle and reins already affixed to his large and intimidating body. 

You go to your own room and slide on your new leathers and boots and head out to the kitchen to meet Joel. He has a ratty looking cloth dress in one hand, chains and a small collar in the other. You both stare at each other. You don’t need words. You knew exactly what being his slave would mean and what playing that part would look like. You’ve seen plenty of Fae in this uniform, following along behind whatever creature owned them. Joel looks at you with a tender sadness, swallowing hard while you nod at him and head out the back door. Rem lands beside Uvri and nuzzles against you, crying out again. 

“It’s ok, Rem.” You say quietly, running your hand down her neck, her scales are warm and smooth, you didn’t realize how soothing petting a dragon could be. 

Joel helps you up in Uvri and with a click of his tongue the dragon shoots up into the sky and dread fills your body. 

The flight is most quiet. You occasionally point to places that you’ve been to, Joel points to an orange and red canopy of trees and tells you his brother lives there. You need the distraction, and assume he does too, so you ask questions about his brother. You learn his name is Tommy and he’s younger than Joel. He’s married and they have a baby on the way. He also trains dragons, just like their father did before them. Finally you see the mountains come into view and you know that you’re close to The King. 

Joel lands Uvri in a clearing near the castle. Your insides clench as Joel slumps against your back. His forehead rests softly on the back of your shoulder, letting out a deep sigh before wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You both sit like that for a minute, your hearts pounding in sync with one another’s. “Make this quick for me, Joel.” 

He releases you and you follow him, climbing off Uvri. You reach into one of the bags strapped to his saddle and pull out the tattered dress.

“I’m sorry about this.” Joel says softly. 

“I know,” you say sadly as you walk behind Uvri to change. 

You slip out of the new leathers, even though you’re gutted over not having your wings, getting dressed has been easier. You stare down at the thin bra and panties, squeezing your eyes shut before sliding them off. The scratchy fabric of the plain dress is uncomfortable against your skin. You stuff your clothes in a bag and walk back around to Joel. 

He looks at you with big sad eyes, recalling what you said last night while you ate dinner, “The King needs to think that you hate me more than he does. You have to hate me to keep me safe.” 

His eyes lower down your body, stopping where the hem of the dress ends at your knees, then his head turns to look at his right hand. Your eyes follow, a thick rusted chain connected to a metal collar grips in his fingers. He walks to you slowly and you lock eyes. He stops just a hair away and you force a hard swallow before taking in a shaky breath, gathering your hair in your hands. 

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, placing the cold, heavy collar around your throat. The hinges creak menacingly before the loud click of the lock reverberates down your whole body. The weight of it rests on your collarbone and it feels like it’s pressing you down into the earth. Even though this was your idea and you have no reason not to trust Joel, you feel absolutely humiliated. Uvri stares ahead at the castle and you find yourself longing for Remmer. 

“Why can’t we take her?” You asked Joel last night. 

“She needs to be the one to imprint on the babies if I can’t. She fully trusts me, so the babies will too.” 

Within seconds of remounting him, Uvri lands on top of that same tower and your body starts trembling, teeth chattering in your skull. Joel helps you down and then pulls you into his arms. You sink into his body, letting his warmth and comfort wash over you. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I’m going to make this as fast as possible. Just look at the floor the whole time. Don’t look up. I got you.” 

You clear the glass from your throat, “Don’t let go of my chain.” 

He hands you the case that contains the three dragon eggs before looping the chain around his hand a few times. You follow down the stairs and hallway, and before the guards open the doors to the main hall you take a shaky breath and look down at the case. 

Don’t look up.

“Joel!” The King exclaims as you enter. “You brought your little slave, I see!” 

“Probably should have let you kill her,” he says darkly as he pulls you along the long corridor. “Ungrateful little thing. Couldn’t trust her to stay alone.” 

Don’t look up.

When you reach the foot of the stairs, a guard grabs the box from your hands roughly. Joel bows, and when you stay standing he gives the chain a hard yank towards the ground. Your knees crash down on the cobblestone floor. In a cruel mocking tone Joel says, “bow to your merciful king. You should be dead.” 

You let out a small cry of pain and The King laughs cruelly, “look at my trophy, fairy.” 

Don’t look up. 

When your eyes stay fixed on the floor he shuffles in his throne and chuffs like a petulant child before yelling, “I’m talking to you!” 

Joel tugs on your chain again and you look up at The King through your lashes. Above him, your wings are hanging from the wall, suspended in a swirling, thin black mist. 

“When your master brings me the other eggs, I might let you have these back.  But I’ve grown quite accustomed to them. They look better here than they did on your useless back.” The King is smiling like he’s at an amusement park, clearly getting nothing but pleasure out of the torture you’re being put through. 

Joel crouches beside you, grabbing a handful of your hair and forcefully pulls. You let out a yelp as he brings your face within inches of his. His face is harsh, eyebrows knitted together and jaw clenched. “Thank your King, little whore.” He spits and yanks your head towards The King. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, voice trembling with fear. Joel shoves your head down, you lose your balance and your palms collide with the floor before he pulls you back to a kneeling position by the chain. 

Your heart feels like it’s in your stomach. Your beautiful iridescent wings hung up in such a cruel and harsh place. Tears start burning in the back of your eyes, everything about this feels wrong. Joel has slipped into this role too easily. Maybe he’s using you to get to the rest of the remaining Fae. 

As Joel and The King discuss when the next eggs will be ready, you fight to keep your tears in. You focus on breathing, blood surging so loudly through your ears that you can’t make out what they’re saving above you. 

My wings. My wings. My wings. 

Soon, Joel pulls sharply on your chain and barks, “Up.” 

You stand and walk weakly behind him.

My wings. My wings. My wings. 

Joel leads you back up the stairs, never looking back at you to keep up what you hope is a facade. But he was so goddamn convincing in that room that all the tender moments you’ve had are gone. His face was so harsh, so full of hatred. You don’t remember how it feels to be safe around him anymore. He hoists you up onto Uvri. Joel flicks Uvri’s reins with one hand, his free arm wrapping tightly around your middle. As he takes off, your body slumps back against Joel, the emotional exhaustion starting to take over.

My wings. My wings. My wings. 

The dragon flaps his wings fiercely, the wind whipping so hard your eyes start to water, blurring your vision. The air cools the steel around your neck and it nips at your skin. You close your eyes against the cold and all you can see is Joel’s cruel expression, as if it’s been tattooed on your eyelids. 

Within minutes you’re landing in the same field you had just days ago. It took Remmer half a day to fly to the castle from here, and that’s when you realize just how powerful Uvri is. The dragon has barely touched down when Joel is pulling you off the dragon and into his arms. 

“I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m so sorry.” He whispers into your hair, holding your tense and exhausted body tightly against him. His fingers work quickly to undo the collar. As it falls to the ground, his fingers trace the light bruises already forming at the base of your neck.

Your hands push at his chest and he lets you take a small step back. You stare at the ground and fight against the urge to run. He called you a whore and ungrateful. He made you look at your wings after he told you not to look up. Everything he did in that hall was done with such conviction that you’re tempted to believe it yourself. You could run. You don’t have wings, no one would hunt you now. You could just run, run and hide. 

When you finally manage to look at him, he’s nothing like he was with The King. Dark eyes have turned warm, flecks of brown sugar shine throughout his chocolate brown eyes, tears lining his lash line. His jaw is relaxed, lips parted as he looks at your neck. Without warning he drops to his knees and sits back on his heels. He lets out a hiss when he sees the deep purple bruise already wrapping around your knees. His hands come to rest lightly on the side of your thighs. 

“Please talk to me,” he chokes, one tear rolling down his cheek. 

You swallow down the lump that’s been in your throat since landing on that tower. “My wings,” you whisper sadly. 

“Fuck. I’m so sorry you had to see that.” 

You blink a few times at Joel. Each flutter of your lashes morphs your sadness into rage. “Kiss me.”

“What?” His brow furrows slightly, but you don’t miss the uptick of a small smile that appears on his lips at the thought of kissing you.

“I am fucking livid. Kiss me. Kiss me so I know that it’s ok. Kiss me to show me that we will get my wings back and that all of that was just an act back there. Kiss me to distract me from going there and ripping out that vile man's throat.” 

He leans forward, warm velvety lips gently press to your right kneecap, then your left. Joel stands, hands coming to tangle in your hair. “It was all an act, I feel horrible. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” you say, hands trailing up the strong muscles of Joel’s back, concealed under his leather coat. “This was my destiny, to destroy The King. With you.” 

The second the words leave your mouth you and Joel come together in a mess of lips and tongue and teeth. It’s frantic and desperate, both of you saying everything you need to say with this kiss. He swallows your moans with his mouth. Gripping your hair tightly with one hand. The other running down your back, lifting you up by the meaty globe of your ass. Your dress hikes up your hips as you lock your legs around his waist, hands gripping his shoulders as he walks you to the edge of the clear blue river. 

You break your kiss to undo his jacket, sliding the leather buckles out of their metal clasps. First the one at his collar bone, then chest and stomach. You press your lips against his again as you slide the zipper down. He’s not wearing a shirt, his strong tanned chest warms your body through your thin dress, your nipples stiffening in anticipation. 

Joel lowers your feet to the smooth, colourful rocks of the shore and breaks apart from you. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth as you watch him drop his jacket to the ground, your hands working on their own to undo the leather tie of his pants. The outline of his cock pressing through the thick fabric. 

His hands grab your wrists. “I don’t - I don’t have protection.” 

You blink up at him. “Joel, I’m over six hundred years old. I don’t think pregnancy is a worry.” 

You stare at each other for a second, sexual tension morphing as he smiles at you and you start to laugh. His hands come to your neck again, fingering the light bruising before his lips press gently where the collar sat. The hurried rush of his lips and hands is replaced by a slow passion. 

His lips caress your neck and you close your eyes. Head falling to the side to give him more access. Your hands reach for the growing bulge behind his pants. He moans into your neck at your touch, kisses moving up your neck. 

“Tell me what you need, sweetheart.” The deep baritone of his voice sends a fresh wave of arousal to your core. You’re not wearing anything under this thin dress, you can almost feel how wet you are on your thighs. 

“Need you,” you moan, voice husky with want. 

Joel grips the hem of your dress. “Use your words,” he says, his forehead resting against yours. “Need me to what, baby girl.” 

“Make me feel good.” You say. 

He slips your dress up and over your body, leaving you completely bare to him. He steps back, toeing his boots off and working at his fitted leather pants. He slides them down his hips, his cock springs free, slapping against his hard abdomen. You lick your lips at the sight of him naked before you. Tattoos and scars on display for you, tanned skin glowing under the setting sun. 

His hand reaches out for yours, intertwining his fingers with yours and leading you into the water. It’s cool on your skin and eases the pain in your knees, which just makes you crave Joel more. When the water is passed his hips he grabs you again, lifting you into his arms, bodies pressed tightly against each other.

“Make you feel good how?” He asks, kissing your neck and collarbone. 

“Please Joel.” you whine.

“Please what, baby girl?” 

You grind your hips into his, you can feel his cock sliding underneath you as your clit brushes against his body and you whine. 

“Need my cock sweet girl?” You moan out again. “Say what you need.” 

“I need…” fuck why is this so hard for you. After years of giving to everyone else and having no one to take care of you it’s nearly impossible to ask for it. 

“Please, darlin’. Say whatever you need and I’ll give it. Fingers. Tongue. Whatever you want.” 

You grind against him again, the water of the lake making everything slippery. “Want you inside me.” 

“Good girl,” his voice is rough with need, “guide it in for us.” 

You reach your hand between your bodies and wrap your hand around his cock, pumping his length a few times before lining it up with your entrance. You can feel your walls fluttering already, anxiously waiting to be filled. 

“Look at me,” he says. 

You lock eyes and slowly sink down onto him, the head of his thick cock filling you. “Oh god - Joel - fuck.”

“Keep goin’ baby,” his eyes glaze over, “wanna be all the way in.” 

Your eyes stay locked to his, fingernails digging into his shoulders as you slide him the rest of the way inside you. You feel every inch of him stretching and filling you. The cool water of the slow moving river dances along your skin. 

“Fuck you feel so good.” He moans, bringing his lips to yours. Kissing you deeply. 

You grind small, slow circles with your hips into him, at this angle he’s hitting that perfect spongy spot, his abdomen rubbing against your clit. 

“That’s it, baby.” He praises as you cry out in pleasure. The small movements shouldn’t feel this good, but you’re surrounded by him in the water and as the sun fully sets and the moon and stars start to light up the water, he looks so beautiful. The trees are still, the world quiet and it feels like just the two of you exist. “Does that feel good?” 

“Yes, Joel. Mmmm yes.” You can feel your orgasm building, your heart pounds in your chest over the close intimacy. Your body reacts so well to his, your pussy twitching slightly around his cock.

“Relax. Take what you need,” he says, letting you rub against him at your own pace. 

“Oh fuck,” that familiar pressure starts to build again and you grip harder onto Joel. 

“That’s it. That’s my good girl.” His hands cup your ass under the water, moving with your slow and steady rhythm. His dark eyes drink you in as you writhe against him. Moonlight reflects off the water, dancing around his body like candlelight. 

“More, please Joel. More.” 

“Ya?” He asks, thrusting up into you when you grind down on him. 

“Oh god. Fuck me. Please.” 

Joel crashes his lips to yours again as he takes over. Lifting you up and then slamming into you with his hips, hands pushing you down onto him. You moan into his mouth, he’s so deep and stretching you almost to the point of pain. 

He repeats this motion a few more times, you call out his name to the forest, completely unashamed of your pleasure echoing back at you. 

“You look so fucking beautiful like this. Look down baby, look how well you’re taking me.” 

You lean back, watching through the clear moonlit water as Joel slides in and out of you and that heat in your lower belly starts to erupt. You cry out, watching as Joel’s thrusts become slower and sloppier. 

“Play with your clit.” he demands through gritted teeth, he’s trying his hardest not to come yet. 

You lean back slightly, sliding your hand between your bodies and rub tight circles on your sensitive nub. 

“Joel!” it comes out as a high pitched squeal, you’re right on the edge, teetering towards all consuming pleasure. 

“I know. I know.” His voice is soothing.

“I’m. Oh fuuuuck. I’m gonna…”

“Cum for me baby. Let me feel it.” Your orgasm washes over you, sparks lighting up your whole body. You curl into Joel, biting his neck gently, muffling the sounds of your screams as your walls clench hard around him. Joel doesn’t stop thrusting up into you, “that’s it. Good job sweetheart.” 

You bring both hands to tangle in Joel’s curls, kissing him as you come down from your high. “Cum for me, Joel,” you say between kisses. 

He smiles at you proudly. You could ask for what you wanted when you two started. “Where do you want it baby?” 

“I wanna watch,” you moan, your pussy becoming overstimulated by his thrusts. 

He lifts you off, you reach for his cock as your feet hit the cool round stones on the bottom of the lake. You watch as you stroke him at the same pace he was fucking you. 

“Show me Joel,” your free hand cups his balls, massaging them gently. They tighten in your hand before his cock twitches and his milky spend rises up in the water around you. 

You look up at his face as he groans your name, his eyes are fixed on you and glazed over with pleasure. This big, strong dragon trainer is like soft clay, coming apart in your hands and you’ve never felt sexier. 

“Fuck,” he says bringing you in for a kiss. 

“Bring me home,” you whisper after breaking the kiss.

“We’ll go to your family first thing.” He says, kissing your nose.

“No, just take me home.” 

Joel smiles warmly. Home. His home, and now your home. 

==================================

Taglist:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag  @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @baar-ur @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @mermaidgirl30 @lorilane33

[bunnypansy]

NSFW Alphabet: Pantalone!

Rated R for EXPLICIT CONTENT!

A short script about the ABCs of The Regrator's sex life!

Featuring: Pantalone, and you!

Beware! This film contains: sexual content (duh), objectification, humiliation, financial domination, pet play, submission, handcuffs, spit kink, orgasm denial, edging, dacryphilia, mild degradation

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Perfect. Really! While the richest harbinger, Pantalone does not strike me as the lazy type. He’s not going to pawn off the aftercare on any staff, he’d rather do it himself. Pantalone goes through the same steps every time; he quickly cleans himself up, then gently wipes up the majority of your… fluids. He’ll run you both a nice bath- and you KNOW the Regrator has a giant, beautiful bathtub. Of course, Pantalone will clean you up with the highest quality soap, and when you’re done, he’ll moisturize you from head to toe! No need to stay awake, Pantalone doesn’t mind if you doze off. While he’s mostly hands on, he’ll have staff swap out the messy sheets before he lays you down to rest. Most likely, he’ll hold you close while you fall asleep and he reads.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Your skin overall, which yeah, I know sounds weird, but walk with me. He loves your soft, smooth skin that’s perfect for bruising, kissing, biting; so pretty and delicate. Even in nonsexual moments, Pantalone likes to run his fingers over your skin and trace patterns, just for funsies. Like most of his things, he’ll do his best to make you take care of your beautiful skin. Also lips, beautiful, soft, pink lips just get him hard immediately; wear lip gloss and he’ll fall apart.

It’s not hard to see that Pantalone takes incredible care of his hair. He spends an immeasurable amount of time fussing over it, with a detailed washing schedule and care instructions. He spends much of his morning routine brushing, and styling his hair; if you feel like playing with it or styling it, feel free- but NEVER pull on his hair. EVER.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Pantalone takes impeccable care of himself, he’s well hydrated and keeps a good diet, so his cum is a clear, almost pearly color. It’s textured a lot like syrup and has almost no taste except for a faint saltiness- you’re not really sure how he makes his cum that flavorless. Pantalone doesn’t cum very much, it’s a bit disappointing but I’ll let you in on a little secret; if you squeeze his balls a lil bit you can make him squirt, and if you feel like putting in the effort, keep milking his cock after he starts cumming and he’ll cum even more. Please draw out his orgasm!!! Pantalone prefers cumming in your mouth, on your face or on your tummy- he’s not fond of trying to scoop his cum out of you later, too messy. Besides, don’t you just look beautiful with his cum on your face? Of course you do.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to try butt stuff. Huh? No no, not on you. (:

Okay fine I'll elaborate. I don't think he's experimented with anal on his own, he simply has a curiosity that he wants to sate. After sometime, Pantalone might bring up the subject, as casually as one might talk about the weather over morning tea. He actually wants to start rather vanilla with this, a bit of fingering, some gentler sex. After getting a small taste for subbing, he might let you do a few other things to him (cough cough sounding)

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Fairly? I don’t think he’s all that experienced when it comes to sustained relationships, he's very busy and not opposed to hiring sex workers! Everyone has needs, and he is happy to pay for services he deems necessary, as long as he’s satisfied with the result. In short; intimate experience? No. Casual experience? Yes.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Pantalone is usually fucking on the go (read: in his office), so he usually goes for the classic bending over desk. If he’s in the office, he’ll press your chest down the desktop and take you from behind, usually with his fingers in your mouth to pull you back and hold your jaw open. For a long while, he'll probably do this in the bedroom for a while too, bending you over the edge of the bed instead; but once he gets more accustomed to intimacy, I think he'll switch to missionary. Call it vanilla, but he likes being able to see your face, your expressions really heighten the experience for him.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I wouldn't call it humorous, so much as mocking. He's not laughing with you, he's laughing at you. Pantalone likes humiliating you in little ways, squishing your tear-stained cheeks together and calling you a crybaby, then laughing at you. If you try to tease him back however, he'll brush it off and somehow turn it back onto you. He's mean? Awww, but you like it don't you? Mean perv.

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

Pantalone strikes me as the sort of man who just. Full body waxes. Not hair to be found on this man. Which is a damn shame cus he's got some of the most beautiful hair I've ever seen, so silky and soft… no he won't stop waxing even if you beg. Sorry sports fans, your hairy man is in another castle.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

When Pantalone was younger, (shallow) people weren’t exactly interested in him, now he’s just too busy with work to bother forming a relationship with others, so he's used to transactional sex. He's probably going to remain rather distant for a while; you will have to have a conversation about it for sure. Pantalone will take your criticism into consideration very easily, he wants you both to enjoy your time after all, then change his behavior for you. It's going to be an awkward change at first, and he'll engage in a lot of pillow talk to go over what was good and what needs improvement, but Pantalone will be nothing but agreeable.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Why would he attempt to satisfy himself with his hands when he could just pay for an escort? Truly, Pantalone doesn't see the need and doesn't get horny enough to crank the ol' hog. But I am nothing if not a kind God! So I'll write this for you anyway.

Unlike with sex, Pantalone will not want to mastrubate in his office, it's too vulnerable and he finds it a bit embarrassing. He is definitely the type of guy to take it slowly, slow strokes over his shaft and rubbing his thumb over his tip, then a good squeeze around the base. Pantalone stays quiet most of the time, just barely panting as he touches himself.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Humiliation: Pantalone loves to feel superior, full stop. As long as you give consent, Pantalone likes to keep you naked in his office, sitting on his desk or the floor like an ornament. His favorite thing to do is keep you bound in a corner, stuffed full of toys for anyone to see, but only him to touch.

Financial domination: He likes being the one with all the money in the relationship. A little part of himself thinks you'll only like him as long as he's rich, so flaunting his wealth to you is a turn on. It's also relieving to him that you're dependent, so that way, you can never leave. Pantalone loves most to dress you up in fineries, then tear it all off in the heat of the moment, just to prove how little those things mean to him.

Mild pet play: dragging you around on a leash is one of Pantalone's greatest pleasures. He likes feeling as if he owns you, calling you pet, giving you orders. Pantalone is definitely the type to buy you a very fancy collar with real jewels on it, then use it as a handle while you fuck. If he's going to have any pet, it'll be a puppy, he's interested in the absolute obedience dogs have.

Submission: Pantalone does not put up with brats, hands down. He desires complete and utter obedience from you in the bedroom, you can either comply or miss out on your dick appointment. Brat taming? In this economy?

Handcuffs: While I don't feel Pantalone likes full body bondage (he likes to feel you struggle against him), he appreciates handcuffs or general hand bondage. It's a good way to yank you around and make sure you don't pull his hair out. His personal favorite is to bind your hands, then make you sit on his lap with your arms around his neck.

Spit: I can't say I have strong reasoning for this, it's just a gut feeling. It's something about spitting in your mouth and making you swallow it that makes the possessive part of him flare up.

Objectification: I mean really, is anyone surprised? This man fully believes he can buy anything, including you. He owns you, and he's not going to act otherwise. Sometimes, if he's had a stressful night, he'll just lube you up and fuck you like a fleshlight, and he's not afraid call you such things either. "Pet", "toy", and "doll" are some of his favorite things to call you.

Orgasm denial/Edging (they go hand in hand for this man): This follows closely with his objectification kink- oh you wanna cum? No, no, no, pet. Fleshlights don't need to cum do they? Ah- they don't talk, either. Watching you squirm and cry for him strokes his ego greatly, and he's not afraid to make you beg.

Dacryphilia: You look. So pretty. When you cry. Your lips trembling, your eyes glittering with tears, eyes and nose reddened, cheeks wet- and at his hand? Even better. Of course, Pantalone cares too much about you to enjoy when you're simply miserable, but when he edges you to tears? Nothing better.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Pantalone is a rather private man, he'll want to stick to his two safe spaces; your bedroom and his office. Of course, the bedroom is your house, but he claims that no one can argue with what he does in the privacy of his own office, especially if someone forgets to knock- not like he'd stop either way. Public bathrooms or secluded alleys are beneath him, while fucking on couches or in showers is just too much of a hassle.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

What Pantalone REALLY wants out of this, is to feel like he owns you. He wants to know that you belong to him, that you are dependent upon him, and that he controls you; it's almost a comfort to him. If Pantalone holds all the control between the two of you, then it is utterly up to him whether you stay or go.

However, Pantalone will spend every waking moment reminding you why you should stay, and this applies to the bedroom as well. He wants to hear you cry out, feel you squirm, watch you cry; a reminder that he is the best man you will ever have.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Piss. I wouldn't call this particularly controversial, only a bit disappointing for the little pee-pee boys in the crowd (it's me I'm pee-pee boys). He doesn't like much of any kink that creates smell and a mess, it's just too much of a hassle to clean up and isn't worth it to him.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

For such a greedy man, Pantalone is a giver!!!! He doesn't care for receiving oral- it's fine -but why would he waste his time on fucking your mouth when he can be inside you? He much prefers the reactions he gets from eating you out or sucking you off. Considering this a bonus to the favorite position category, but when giving oral Pantalone has two favorite positions; letting you lay back and grabbing your hips to lift you to his mouth, or placing you on his lap upside down so your knees rest on his shoulders.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Pantalone keeps his pace moderate, focusing on making his thrusts deep and hard instead. He'll grab your waist and roll his hips against yours, aiming for all your sensitive spots with long, deep strokes. Of course, Pantalone's pace becomes a bit erratic when he's closer to cumming, speeding up then slowing to crawl- you know he's really at the edge when he starts pounding you as hard and fast as you can.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

No. Sorry guys. Pantalone wants to take his time with you and isn't going to settle for an ultimately dissatisfying quickie, he won't apologize either. Good things come to those who wait, don't they?

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

If you wanna try something new, Pantalone is happy to agree, most times he won't say no; though he might show hesitation if you ask him to harm you. You'll have to tell him in advance so he can properly research the kink and how to enact the fantasy safely, and even before you have sex he'll probably warn you that he's going to try something new.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

My guy is a one and done kind of man, squirt then skirt if you will. So yeah, unfortunately you're only getting a single round out of Pantalone, but that round can last about as long as you like- and perhaps longer. A session with Pantalone can last from one hour up to three, and he won't let himself cum once until you cum at least twice, so there are no worries of being left unsatisfied.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Yes! Absolutely! Nipple clamps, a couple bullet vibrators, a wand vibrator, vary sizes of plugs, beads and dildos, an O-ring gag, spreader bars- though he only uses those last two if you're being shy with him. For afab partners he also owns a rosebud vibrator, and for the amabs he owns sounding rods and cock rings. Mostly the toys are for you, but with a bit of encouragement you might be able to coax him into using a few on himself. After a fair bit of experimentation, Pantalone finds himself in favor of wearing a cock ring and nipple clamps while fucking you… you might get him to warm up to a bit of sounding.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If Pantalone isn't a tease, then I don't know who is. He takes great pleasure in riling you up, then denying you sex entirely, not even allowing you to touch yourself; a test of your obedience. God forbid you break his rules and get caught using any toys on yourself- and you will get caught -Pantalone will spend hours punishing you for disobedience. You'll find yourself handcuffed and stuck in spreader bars, the largest dildo of Pantalone's collection stuffed into your hole. Your lover shows no kindness, grabbing the base of the toy and ramming it in and out as fast and hard as he can, but stopping right before you cum and waiting however long it takes for you to calm down. This will go on for hours until you're sobbing, begging for forgiveness and wailing your apologies. So yeah. Pantalone is far from fair.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

A few whimpers, mostly panting, maybe grunt here or there; While Pantalone may not be much of a moaner, he certainly is a chatterbox! He'll go on and on with you, muttering praise and degradation, fully expecting a response from you (how unrealistic, sir). He gets even worse when he gets closer to his orgasm; Pantalone's words break up with moans and become less coherent, but he still forces them out as fast as he possibly can, until he's stuttering forward a slew of curses at a near shout. Cutie <3

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

The male boob lovers in the crowd are going to like this one- I believe with my entire heart that my double D malewife has sensitive nipples, his left one pierced. They're naturally puffy and pink, and they turn all red and swollen when you play with them. Unfortunately, Pantalone isn't going to give you much of a chance to toy with his chest, so when do you get boob time? One of the few times he subs, that's when. He's not going to argue if you pinch and pull on his nipples in the middle of easing your way inside of him, Pantalone is going to whimper. Enjoy this power, and use it wisely.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

This man is vice president of the pretty penis club (I'll elaborate on the prez in a later post). He sits around 5.7-ish flaccid and an easy 6 when he's hard, a skinny penis haver but it's okay because I love him. He only really has one prominent vein that trails from the underside of his shaft then wraps around to the front side, just beneath his tip. Speaking of his tip!! It's a beautiful shade of pink that reddens when he gets hard, and drips soooo much pre. He's got a slight upward curve and when he's very hard, his dick nearly touches his abdomen.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Pantalone has a relatively low sex drive, really only feeling the need for sex every two to three weeks, however! He has no problem going at it more often if you so desire, if anything he likes how dependent upon him you are, please, ask for more.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sleep?? After sex??? Pantalone could never. If anything, a good session clears his head and calms him down. He's more than likely to grab a lapdesk and do some paperwork while you're dozing off, but if it's really late or you went for a particularly long round he might just read at your side or even talk you to sleep.

That's the end of our showing for today, and as always, thank you for attending!

You can really REALLY smell the favoritism on this one, I'm very very in love with Pantalone and I wanna kith him.

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Like Real People Do

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: necromancy kind of.

Genre: kinda fluff idk really

Summary: "Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips // We should just kiss like real people do" ~ Like Real People Do by Hozier

A/N: I was listening to this song and remembered that it was about a bog body falling in love with a woman that finds him and I thought 'this would work great with the deadpool & wolverine plot of Wolverine being dead' and now here we are

***

You trudge deeper into the forest, the bag you're carrying feels like it's getting heavier with each step, but you have to put this to bed once and for all and this is the only way to do it. Eventually you find a spot that feels right and you drop the bag off to the side, gripping your shovel tightly and pushing it into the solid ground. Those first couple of scoops are harder than the rest, the dirt beneath the topsoil moist and much more pliable. You dig and dig and dig until finally, after what feels like forever you think you're just about deep enough. One more push of your shovel and- you hit something. You hit something that makes a clink, like metal on metal. You frown in confusion. Metal? What did you hit? You wonder if it wouldn't be better to simply deposit the bag and forget about the mysterious clink sound but you can't help yourself. You have to know what on earth this deep in the ground is making that noise. You drop your shovel and switch to your hands, carefully moving the dirt around to uncover whatever it is you've stumbled upon. It's cold, duh- metal untouched under cold dirt would be, there's also a lot of it. The more you uncover the more there seems to be, a bunch of long metal pieces all laid out strangely. It's not until you've uncovered most of it that you realize it's a skeleton, or a model of a skeleton? It's made of metal which- skeletons are not, it also has claws attached to the joints in the hand, which humans usually do not have either. Who buries a model skeleton of something almost human? Who makes a metal model skeleton? You should leave it here. Whatever it is it has nothing to do with you, but you can't help yourself, you carefully take the skeleton out of its hole, keeping it intact takes great effort but you manage, propping it up against a tree as you finish what you came here for. You dump the contents of the bag you dragged out here into the hole, and then drop the bag, shoveling the dirt back over it as quickly as you can. Just before you shovel the last foot, you throw several plants into the dirt, something endangered along with several native species, and then you cover the hole all the way, packing the dirt as best you can. Once that's done, you turn to your model skeleton. It'll be kind of difficult to carry it out of here you imagine, but you just have to get it to your car, and there's pretty much no chance of you running into anyone out here at this time. So, you hoist the man-o-metal up, drape a humerus over your shoulder and drag the skeletal structure back the way you came. Going back feels shorter than getting there which is something you won't complain about and as you fold the skeleton into your backseat you mutter to yourself.

"I don't even know what I'm gonna do with you honestly. Are you a decor item or something?" You ask as if the thing will talk back to you. You silently drive home, music from your car speakers quietly filling the space. Each time you look in your mirror the skeleton spooks you, the whole way home. You decide when you get home that your decorative skeleton will go in your workshop. It'll add to the spooky vibe you like to bring to the space. At last, you can officially say you've buttoned up that business, those secrets left for dead buried deep in that forest.

~

You hear shuffling coming from your studio and your body tenses at the sound. You quickly and quietly grab your baseball bat from your closet before heading downstairs to find the source of the noise you're hearing. You sneak down and at the sight of movement, you swing the bat hard at the large figure in your basement workshop.

"Ouch!" The figure grunts and you flip on the lights.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my house?!" You yell.

"Who are you?" He frowns.

"Who am I?! Dude you're in my house!"

"And I shouldn't be." He says as if he's unsure.

"Of course not! How did you even get in here?!" You ask clutching your bat tightly.

"I'm not sure- I thought I was dead." His eyes narrow and he looks down at himself, confused.

"I'm sorry what?" You blink at him.

"Yeah no I was definitely dead. I distinctly remember dying. It's my last memory. Until- you dug me up."

"Dug you- wait a second the skeleton from the forest?!"

"What did you do?"

"What did I- nothing! I dug up a skeleton, stuck it in the car, brought it home and shoved it in my workshop and haven't touched it since! I had no idea it came from an actual person!"

"You found a fully intact skeleton buried in the earth, what could it possibly be?" Logan frowns.

"Hello! I don't know if you were aware of this mister whoever or- whatever you are but the average human skeleton isn't made of metal and equipped with claws the size of KATANAS! I thought it was some kind of Halloween decor or something!" You yell. This is insane, how did a metal skeleton become a living breathing person- maybe person.

"Halloween decor? Buried 8 feet underground?" He looks at you blankly.

"Unmarked! There was no headstone, no personal items, nothing to indicate it was anything more than some forgotten trinket!"You say.

"That's ridiculous." He shakes his head.

"Ridiculous is the strange humanoid that's appeared in my house from APPARENTLY the dead?!"

"Well what did you do to bring me back?" He asks.

"I didn't do ANYTHING I told you." You scoff.

"But this doesn't make any sense, if my regenerative abilities were gonna kick in that would've happened way earlier than now." He looks at his hands with confusion clear on his face.

"Regenerative- what ARE you!? Who are you!?"

"Logan." He says.

"I can't believe digging up a skeleton has made a man basically appear in my house." You shake your head.

"What were you even doing undigging graves anyhow?" Logan asks.

"That's not what I was doing." You say.

"What were you doing?"

"I can't tell you." You shake your head.

"But-"

"Trust me. Drop it." You cut him off.

"So- now what?" He asks.

"Do you have friends? Family? Someone I can turn you over to?" You ask.

"I- I don't remember." He frowns.

"You don't remember?" You narrow your eyes in confusion.

"I know that I died, and I remember you, and that's about it." He says.

"But you didn't know me, you don't know me."

"No I- I remember you unburying me."

"So you have no idea where you belong or who you know?" You frown.

"I- guess not." Logan says.

"Well what am I supposed to do with you then?!" You ask.

"I- I don't know." Logan says.

"Logan-"

"You are very pretty."

"W-what?" You blink at him.

"You're pretty." He shrugs.

"Uh- thank you." You frown.

"I wanna kiss you."

"Excuse me?" You gasp.

"I just- I have no memories and no solution to any of this but all I can think of is how nice it would be to kiss you." He sighs.

"Well- I also have no solution to any of this and while my memories are intact they will not help us with your situation so... okay. I guess." You step closer to him.

"I can kiss you?" He asks also moving towards you.

"Just once." You say. Logan gently cups your cheek and leans down, gently slotting his lips against yours. His lips are- not as rough as you'd expect, and they're very warm. The kiss is soft and easy, like he's not in any rush, but honestly with the whole lost memory thing you guess he really can't be in a rush.

"You taste sweet." He says when you finally pull away. "I wanna kiss you again."

"No way." You step back.

"Why? Did you not like it?"

"No that's not- wait that doesn't matter at all." You shake your head.

"I think it does." He nods.

"Logan you were a prop skeleton in my workshop for almost 2 weeks, memories or no you have to realize how strange this all is."

"Yeah- I guess it is a little odd."

"A lot. Take it back. We need a plan. We need- a minute to figure out what's going on here."

"Alright- can we leave the basement then?" Logan asks. You tilt your head at him.

"Yeah sure. We can leave the basement."  You say.

You have no idea what you're going to do with a skeleton come to life, or back to life? Whatever, you have no idea what you're going to do with him, but it seems that, at least for now, you're kind of stuck with him, although- you're not so sure that's a bad thing when you think about it.

***

[issdisgrace]

FISTING VINCENT SINCLAIR

WARNINGS: Fisting duh, romance, Vincent is just a little baby

A/N: @charliedakotariley I hope you enjoy this and I hope you don't mind that it isn't a fic and more of a he type thing.

It would be probaly be a while into ways your guys realationship before Vincent brings up the idea of you fisting him.

The reason why it took a while for him to bring it up is because Vincent veiws fisting as an act of trust more than anything. So he needed to know he could fully trust you before he brought it up.

Anyway with that all out of the way.

When Vincent first brought up you fisting him it was when you guys were cuddled in bed togeather.

To say you were shocked was an understatement.

He was very worried when he saw your reaction but you quickly put that to rest. Assuring him that it was completely fine and that you would love to do it and you were just shocked since it came out of left feild.

You guys then talk about it a little more and you prodded on what brought it on. And thats when Vincent tells you that it is a thing of trust. Your heart was throughly warmed that he trusted you that much.

So you decided that you would make it extra sepcial for him as a thank you for him trusting so much. It was a big step specially because Vincent had life long trust issue thanks to his oh so lovely parents.

Ok, now i'll acutally get on to the good stuff.

The night started with you making a dinner for the two of you. After dinner you drew Vincent a bath and while he had a nice soak you got your guys room ready.

You added extra blankents and made a nest of sorts with the blanket. You set out the rest of the stuff you needed and eventually went to collect Vincent.

You wrapped him in a nice towel and carried to your guys room.

You placed him in the nest of blankets then stripped yourself of your clothes and disgraded his towel.

You got on top of him and you guys had began a nice and slow makeout session with maybe too much tounge.

After you guys makeout session you kissed slowly down his body leaving hickies here and there. All while whispering sweet words.

You started first by finger him open with 2 fingers. Vincent whined and moaned pushing himself back onto you. It wasn’t enough he need more.

When he was ready you added more lube and added the third finger into him. Vincent felt so nice and full but he still craved more. He whined desperately as you fucked him open.

It felt so fucking amazing then you added a four finger and felt like he died and had gone to heaven. It was amazing. He never felt such pleasure. He needed more and more.

When he was open enough you slipped in your fifth finger. He had thought four fingers felt amazing but this was something else.

He was overwhelmed with pleasure as you fucked him. He felt on top of the world and your hand fully slipped into him.

And he fell over the edge cumming all over the blanket bellow him.

Despite having just cummed. Vincent fucked himself back on to you.

Which explicit a laugh from you. You speed up your thrust. Causing Vincent to give out a pornstar worthy moan.

He felt overwhelming love coming from you as you whispered sweet things into his ear as you fuck him.

He felt so safe and secure in that moment. His mind went blank and all he could do was feel. Feel your movements. Feel the love coming from you.

He felt so warm inside as he spilled onto the blanket bellow him yet again. He let out a sigh of content as he melted into the nest of blankets.

It didn’t take long for the exchange of the day and your guys activity to catch up to him. And he started to drift in and out of consciousness. As he was drifting in and out he felt you pull out which explicated a whine from him. But he was too tired to fight back.

After Vincent went to sleep you finished yourself off and then cleaned up the two of you before joining him in bed. Cuddling up next to him soon following into a blissful sleep.

[strawberryscribblesandwrites]

Dwayne x reader fluff

two ways were staying with the boys in the cave could go, one way is the more chaotic music, junk food, dancing, rowdy jokes and well, feeding which always got messy. the second option was rare having a calm night.

as much as I enjoyed the wild mischievous nature of my boys a calm night was needed now and then, especially when you needed to recharge your social battery and Dwayne was usually the one to notice when your social battery was dead.

that was one of the things I loved about Dwayne he was very observant and caring about those he cares for I suppose this comes with hundreds of years of life.

Dwayne and I sat on one of the run-down couches in the cave my head resting on his toned thighs. the soft sound of music filled the cave, I sighed contently as Dwayne ran his hands through my hair when I suddenly got an idea.

"hey Dwayne," I said sweetly

"yes," he said dragging out the s as he raised an eyebrow in suspicion

"do you know what a phone is" I chuckled as his face morphed from suspicion to amusement

" yes I do," he said matter of factly

" have you seen a modern phone like the one that isn't from the 80s," I asked

"what do you mean sweety," he asked confused

" well I mean it's not like you boys have phones or keep up to date with technology much" he gave me a hum at my explanation "I still don't understand," he said as his eyebrows creased.

"here let me just show you, honey," I said sitting up and kissing him on his jaw as I situated myself next to him as I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and pulled up youtube, from the corner of my eye I could see Dwayne his face was in a state of both confusing and intrigue. I quickly put in a search for funny cat videos.

"here baby I think you would like these" I said as I handed him my phone and snuggled into his side.

I smiled as I watched cats do stupid things "hey baby this is so stupid, its something paul Marko or even laddie would find funny" he chuckled leaning his head down into my neck as I continued giggling "you so stupid" he said affectionately as he kissed my neck.

"I love you too honey," I said slightly turning my head to kiss the crown of his head

"you should show the boys," he said with what sounded like a smile on his face "I'm sure they would enjoy it "

"well what would you enjoy," I asked turning my phone off to look at Dwayne, he stood heading towards a set of draws up before answering

"what ya got there handsome" I questioned "a book," he said dryly with a smile "well no duh, what book," I asked

"well if you shut up and listen you will find out baby," he said as he sat down and patted his thighs so following his instructions I lay my head down on his legs he opened the old book turning the pages with care

his deep soothing voice filled my ears "I love when you read to me bubby" I mumbled causing him to smile as he continued to read.

looking up at him I admired his jaw and the way the muscles moved as he talked sitting back up I kissed his jaw I continued my attack kissing along his jaw and down his neck until I got to his exposed collar bone where I decided to give him a gentle bite

"Baby what are you doing," he said looking down at me from his book with dark eyes and a sweet smile I only offered him a giggle and a shrug, before kissing my way back up his chest and neck until I got to his face where I placed a flurry of kisses on his checks and nose then finally I kissed his lips causing him to let out a low rumbling groan

“You're a little devil” he purred causing a mischievous smile to light up my face.

He pulled me into his chest with a soft sigh before shifting us both to lay down more on the rickety old couch.

“Now your gonna shut up and let me read okay,” he said sternly as he opened the old leather-bound book, despite him being a vampire his skin was warm and comforting the feeling of his warm arms wrapped around me mixed with the soft deep rumble of his chest lulled me to sleep.

[the-real-eminem]

Could you please write more about Midousuji Akira😭😭?? I love him so much and it hurts so much that there is NO content with him😭

HI!!! so I actually saw this ask a few days ago and went "omg!! good idea!!" then completely forgot 🩷

BUT THEYRE HERE NOW!!!

these might be a little basic, I rlly need to start writing the more interesting ones down when I get them AND IF I REMEMBER I WILL SHARE THOSE ASWELL!! but here tú go 🩷🩷

- If you happen to catch Midousuji's attention, one of two things will happen:

-one, he's not gonna be happy about it. He's cut away anything and everything unnecessary for his one goal: Victory... and now here you are, here to ruin what he's worked so hard to build. He wishes he was more upset. he wishes that he felt nothing but disgust when he looked at you, instead of the nervous butterflies of his stomach.

-two, obsessed. He would 100% percent be a yandere in the right condition. But like in the first scenario, he still hates you and blames you for the fact he likes you. That being said. He'll give you preferential treatment, and lots of it. He wants you close, unsure of why, but he knows he wants it. Every conversation you have with someone else is cut short by snippy passive aggressive interruptions— and you can only apologize for his behavior so much before the other person gets sick of him.

- would not be a yandere that kills ppl (duh). But you know what he's VERY good at? blackmail and tailing. Anyone who shows a sliver of interest in you WILL be extensively researched, all just so he knows the best way to keep them out of your life, and his in yours. He runs a club of first years who will do anything to gain his approval, why not have one tail the person and tell him their every action? (he did it for each inter high, and your no less important to him)

-once he has you... he has zero idea what to do. He's still nervous, now more than ever. he's confused— what changed? he has you now... why haven't these feelings stopped? He's used to the empty feeling he gets after he wins a race, he's used to a high that dies down— but... you're not going anywhere, he feels the same twist in his stomach when he looks at you.

-It all comes to a head when you first show him your affection. Whether it be a kiss, a hug, or just saying "I love you". When it happens he feels it again. A rush of yellow warmth in his chest that he hasn't felt since the hospital. the feeling that only comes it faint doses when he's first at the finish line. But it's back, and it's strong.

- His response is slow, but intense. Now whenever he does somthing nice for you (which you've noticed- he's been doing A LOT lately) he waits for praise, another "I love you" , another kiss another hug. The feelings of yellow don't come in short lived doses like they used to anymore– its constant when he's around you, overbearing.

-Its worth mentioning: he's still an asshole to you, but this time with good intentions. The name calling and picking on you gets worse, but actually, his interaction with you OVERALL is changing. He talks to you most out of anyone he has in his life. He's mean to you- but he'd tell you things he'd never tell anyone else. He doesn't even realize how open he is around you, he talks to you without thinking about what he's even saying. Whether it be offensive (usually is, it's him) or somthing floating around in the back of his head.

[alieinthemorning]

As Many Times [Hawks | Takami Keigo]

Content: Emotional Hurt (Yourself)/ Comfort (Hawks), Established Relationship, Self-Indulgent, Brown-Skinned, Brown-Eyed, Chubby Reader

Pronouns: None

Header: @/kadeart

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

You don't know what you were thinking when you bought this. It looked so good on the model, who looked to be your sized, but—

You pinched the brown skin of your stomach, grimacing at how much you could grab. “This is gross.” You moved your face closer to the mirror, brown eyes roaming the rough texture. “I’m gross.”

You dug the heels of your palms into your eyes, forcing the tears to stay in.

Large, gloved hands anchored themselves at your hips, moving your overgrown love handles in the process. “What’s this, chickadee?”

You moved out of his embrace, wrapping your arms around yourself to hide yourself from his obviously misplaced lustful gaze, “Nothing.”  You muttered.

“You sure?” You didn’t have to look at him to know that he was frowning.

You sniffled. “Yeah.” God, you hated how much of a fucking baby you were.

“Doesn’t sound like it’s nothing.” He paused. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Wanna cuddle?”

“...yes.”

In a flurry of movement, Keigo had the two of you on the bed, with you sheltered by his wings.

He looked like he was comfortable, but you needed clothes, preferably baggy ones. “Hold on, lemme put something on real quick.” You pulled from him, scooting to the edge of the bed.

He looked confused. “Why?” You hadn’t noticed it in the commotion, but he’d ended up stripping down to his boxers.

“I don’t wanna get cold.” You lied.

“Love dove, I’m sure you’ll be fine.” He eyed you suspiciously. “Are you… are you trying to hide from me?”

You groaned. Damn, he was smart. “Not you specifically, no.”  

“Then why?”

“I—Keigo, have you seen me?” He gave you a look that said, ‘uh duh’. You tried again. “I’m… fat and gross—”

Suddenly, he turned your body to face him and cradled your face in his hands.

“I’ll say this as many times as I have to, but I want you to listen and listen well.” His eyes were dangerously sharp and serious. “You are the most beautiful person in the entire universe, and if I have to say that to you every day, I will. If I have to tell the world, I will. I will take down All for One, by myself, in honor of your beauty. I—”

You whined, the first few tears finally freeing from their ducts. “Keigo! Stop!”

“I’ll never stop.”

You fell into him with a groan. He laughed and held you tight.  

The skin on skin contact still felt a bit weird but, “Thank you, Keigo."

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

[jessidogg]

WELCOME TO MY BLOG

My name is Jessi and I'm here to spread the LOVEEE😘🥳 WOOO!!

I have been a humongous fan of trolls since 2016 (except for the two month break that I took when I was a HUGE HTTYD fan- don't ask) and I mostly just post little silly trolls scenarios!

Here are the things that I can do:

Answer Questions- I love to answer questions about Trolls and other movies I love to watch, so don't be shy to ask my opinions!

Blab about Branch for about a bajillion hours- he's my favorite character OF ALL TIME and I was so happy when TBT was centered around him 😭🥹

Write fanfictions, though I would prefer to do that on my new blog, @jessi4fanfics (i just made it about ten seconds ago, so there's nothing there yet, lol)

I will take suggestions on stuff, and if you beg me to show you my handmade drawings of Human Broppy AU, I MIGHT show you, but it's not digital or anything, and I'm more of a writer than artist, so maybe that's not something you should do 😘🤣

WRITE ANYTHING BROPPY OR BROZONE I LOVE THEM SO MUCH EEEEE I am also a huge Cliva fan too, so if y'all come up with any ideas, I'm here to share them with

MESSAGING Y'ALL IS TOTALLY SOMETHING I'D LOVE TO DO, so if you wanna ask me something personal, for a suggestion, or just wanna say hi and blab about DreamWorks and Disney, I'm here to do so, as long as you don't talk inappropriately or anything.

Don't worry, ofc I'll think of more stuff as soon as I publish this lol. :D

Here are the things I CANNOT do:

I am a Christian, so if you ask me to write anything that is against what I believe, I will kindly tell you I cannot do that, but don't worry I won't bite ur head off or anything XD, I'm def not that kind of person.

I am absolutely not writing any LGBTQ+ content. I am not homophobic or transphobic and I know majority of people support all of it, but I do want to respect the small bit of people who don't, so I am not writing so I can respect what others say and think. ♥️♥️♥️

I won't talk about war or any of that kind of stuff also for the reasons of people having different opinions. I don't want to ruin friendships with anyone, and I hate it when that happens just because you don't agree on something. For both this and LGBTQ I also want younger viewers to be able to read my stuff, and sometimes when it comes to that stuff, they may be exposed to stuff they shouldn't be at a young age.

I am not writing anything too mature or inappropriate for younger readers- that includes smut, swearing, and make outs (tho I do write butt jokes WAHAHA U CAN'T STOP ME FROM DOING THAT)

I am not AT ALL putting ANY hate on anyone. I believe that everyone should be who they truly are without shame, and that our main goal as people should be to spread love. Which is why I LOVE ALL OF YOU!!

I LOVE these movies and shows TONS

Trolls Band Together (and the whole series duhhh)

Rio and Rio 2

Boss Baby & Boss Baby Family Business

Mickey Mouse Shorts

The Looney Toones Show

Lab Rats

The Lego Batman Movie

Bunk'd

Geek Charming

& More!!!

These are my (main) ships!

Branch x Poppy

Clay x Viva

Blu x Jewel

Mickey x Minnie (duh)

Bugs x Lola

Daffy x Tina

& Obviously SO MUCH MORE

I am a very silly person, HUGE BROZONIE, and I love to joke around! My account on Wattpad is JessiDelanett if you want to read my books/follow me!

I don't have YouTube- YET. Working on it 😜

I love all people, even those who may not like me. That doesn't matter to me, I will only just love you more.

HEARTS AND BLESSINGS. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[fumikomiyasaki]

More Random Twst oc headcanons

Are they well versed with the internet?

Never heard of the Internet: Brid, Odel, Osyron, Lydia, Fabio, Lennox, Ione, Bianca, Erena, Taylin, Agni

heard of it barely uses it: Saneria, Bolt, Slice, Phobetor, Eleafy,

Lost but knows the search engine and wiki: Kumo, Fuan, Tesadelle, Vanessa,

Basics and Flash games: Izar, Zariyah, Camilla, Eiji, Meyra, Kuze, Gabrielle, Media, Kome

Has usually modern knowledge of all functions: Mellow, Yasuno, Joel, Serena, Rubina Aiden, Inessa, Emil, April,

Sucks at memes, boomer but uses the Internet well: Henry, Beelby, Elvira, Nanoya, Tenera, Feena, Dragiselle,

Knows the most trends: Damon, Eve, Barry, Francine, Flynn, Andrew, Sindren, Sylva, Jin-Lou,

Knows every meme under the planet: Leroy, Carol, Lyla, Naomi, Taron, Ronnie, Ame, Eikichi,

Literally a Streamer, Content creator or Influencer: Bengal, Paula, Zyan, Mythra, Yuzuha, Julian, Brenda, Peko, Emma, Gregory, Tyler, Rachel,Grey, Gilly,

Tattoo Headcanons and meanings:

(Fuan, Osyron, Lydia, Ione, excluded cause its god influenced)

Arachninox Carol: Vine and Snake tattoos, despite not getting her vine powers, she gets the tattoo solely as a ref that a little bit of herself is still kinda inside her, yet she herself doesn'T notice this, she also gets a tattoo under her chest with a heart, symbolizing her care for being loved still, only the snake symbolizes the takeover and poison inside her metaphorically Bengal: Ocelot picked that tattoo for him, it was traditional from his culture and it was cause they are besties, this way he keeps his boy band members with him Meyra: its the crest of her house which she tries to hide Kumo: The heart tattoo is matching his friends but the stars he gets later on his back and torso are moreso to represent his love for the night sky Odel: He got them as he practised Crystal magic as a prove of his mastery Lyla: The kanji for hope gives her courage when she is scared Jin-Lou: The dragon represents her grandmas family symbol Sylva: It is hard to identify and she will just tell you she got it cause it looks cool Brenda: Duh symbol for Money cause greed Greg: the ring was a silly gag but he gets a ton of them in the future Rachel: Her father gave her the fox tattoo to show her strength Andrew: its to identify him from his bros so he has his number like they have Dragiselle: An arrow representing to move forward Kayne: Yakuza tattoos of a mantis... given he was fast as one Ame: She say its cute and puts attention on the right thing Eleafy: Cult signs Julian: He will come up with something cheesy why he has a triangle on his chest, the bat wings he shares with April just she has them on her back Louis: The rose was the sign of his old noble house… he got it long after though Fabio: He just likes roses and his brother got tattoos as well so

Reputation as Dorm leaders:

Henry: Very respected and looked up to… many students are intimidated but many also wanna approach him cause of business or his wealth so he is quite a popular student among NRC Brid: Many just assume... that Odel is the dorm leader and ignore her... she can't seem to get authority and people barely remember her She really struggles with that Barry: Many people are aware of his arrogance and to many students he is a bother, there is a few who do give him the time and popularity because he basically bought them to be his underlings but aside that… many are annoyed Osyron and Lydia: Hella scary to many students, they barely see the gods and if don't know if talking to them won't get them in trouble. Kuze: Many students see him as the junior, the Dorm leader that doesn't seem like one and instinctly would approach Yasuno more about dorm stuff… so he is liked but not really respected Erena: Given most see her as a chaotic adventurer other students also are not convinced untill she talks with them and you see how much charisma she has as a dorm leader and how to win her over well... She just wants fun and is a capable fighter in itself Flynn: As said he has a fanclub and many admirers but that is also true for Nanoya and Rubina, many know about his sketchyness and warn not to reveal too much to him. Peko: A lot of fans and big popularity among many students hence haters are quickly silenced… or at least yelled at by supporters… however higher year students often know how lazy as dorm leader she is and admire Emma more Tyler: Not many outside the dorm see him much but they often call him grumpy and many also just don't want to face his anger so he is only approached by people who know him, dorm members or fashionable to model students Gabrielle: Many Students admire her and cheer for her, also has a small fanclub and is highly respected among the campus. Its really hard to raise a voice against her. Aiden: Aside doing his dorm duty a loner and avoided cause of his criminal record, only dorm members really approach him… and some Exodus students cause of Kayne as well as some Valhunny students Sindren: Some are annoyed by the hero act, others admire her, some try to gain her favour cause of her money but Mythra shoes those away Dragiselle: the most secluded Dorm leader… Inessa does most of her task so not many met her, serves a similar Role to Malleus that not many have seen her at all... but in her case its protect others from her powers

[petrichoraline]

HONESTY HOUR!!!!!!!! (or hours, if you're me ;;;;;;)

since i have no personal 'caught in the rain' moments to talk about im gonna turn the question on you!!!! any particular memorable ones you feel like sharing??

also i've been trying to think about something juicy to ask but the only thing my mind could came up with is to talk about BL actors you have a crush on, if there are any!!!!

hours indeed, I'm two days late 😂💓 and I'm figuring things out as I go so it's a yapping session with gifs, enjoy 😙

i do have a few but one that always sticks out to me was one summer (or was it late spring?) my best friend and i were doing some shopping at the city centre and this rain started pouring, ive never felt anything like it. we had no umbrellas, we were carrying stuff and we walked (maybe kinda ran too lol) a great distance to the subway station; drenched rat doesn't begin to cover it, the rain curtain was thick, it was coming down fast and it seemed like it'd never stop.. I don't think I have any photos or videos from that day, i don't remember it all too well and her and I don't talk anymore but i think I remember it accurately enough. i loved it. it's happened a lot and I still don't carry an umbrella, some lessons are harder to learn

crushes..hahah see, so many years as a young woman and a girl, a romantic and a romcom truther and yet I don't really know the definition of a crush. when it comes to celebrities, I actively avoid feeling like that for them? nothing bad about celebrity crushes but you can blame it on my ocd symptoms [too much to explain]; i do fangirl about them and jokingly think up scenarios (I used to be a y/n fic reader lmao and im loud and proud about it!!) but it's just innocent stuff

I'd say the bl actors i have somewhat of a crush on (by how I understand it) are pond and joong; i find a lot of guys attractive but I don't know much about them like sea, boun or tay

ohhh anderson cheng who plays mark in love is science? is smth else for me

but it could be the character okay, i don't know anderson like that except for a few lives with lin yu😂

I had somewhat of a crush on yibo too but he done fucked up recently so.

OH JIWOONG

DUH

jiwoong is a mystery to me and im just happy when he's happy

also seoham and jaechan in different ways lol

kim sunghyun exuded so much charm as jinwoo I couldn't not fall for him a bit

^like maybe that should be me. js.

yu is stunning any time I see him

he had me crazy about zhou shu yi, soo handsome when he's angry and even more when in love (seeing a man cry whether in character or not bonds you to him idk what to say)

now for the jbls... it's gonna take a bit

meguro ren had me in a chokehold for a while

so did yagi yusei

sato yusuke had me all glued to the screen as well

obviously kimura tatsunari

(happy second anniversary ofc!)

inaba yuuuu

yamanaka jyutaro (I've now hit the ten image limit so that's the blond photographer dude from ameiro paradox); suzuki kousuke (jack o'frost and takara kun to amagi kun); nomura kota (perfect propose) but!

the ones I actually know more about are kouhei and acchan since I used to tune in for their insta lives and kouhei is just so 🥰🥰🥰 that's segasaki from taikan yoho

and currently losing it a bit with the mains of 25 ji akasaka de, niihara taisuke and komagine kiita

I think the reason I just go for "dudes I don't know outside of their role but are handsome af" for japanese bls and "I need to know him better" for thai bls is because of how much content there is of the actors interacting with their on screen partners. plus it's much less likely I see stuff about japanese actors on my dash whereas random interviews and show bits come up constantly with not only gmm dudes but guys from other companies as well. it feels like I get to know about thai actors without putting that much effort in but with those from other countries I'd have to go out of my way so it'd be harder to list someone close to the definition of a crush, you know.

I am very tired so this is a mess, most of this doesn't even need to be written down but I hope you get to read it as a relaxing nonsense list the way it's intended haha

[sortofanobsession]

hi! i’ve genuinely read every single one of your roy/jamie fics and i’m obsessed with your writing!

i’d love an angsty established relationship fic — they get into a fight or break up but they’re trying to not have it affect the team or jamie’s playing but it’s hard when they have to see each other everyday. so the team + coaches try to parent trap them back together x

A/N There was a second ask that added this: i just wanted to add i love the way u depict darker themes so diving into their respective unhealthy coping mechanisms for dealing with the breakup would be amazing to read! x

I honestly wanted to keep what breaks them up vague, because I thought it was bit more interesting wondering. I have what I think it was, and I drop hits. But I might save that for it's own thing...maybe not sure.

Word count: 6k+

Ao3

Ted Lasso Masterlist

Paring: Roy x Jamie (Romantic), Jamie x Ted (platonic), Roy x Ted (platonic), Keeley x Jamie (platonic, formerly romantic), Jamie x AFC Richmond Himbos (platonic, duh, but Sam, Dani and Jamie are besties)

Content warning: Anxiety, nausea, mentions of vomiting, heavy drinking, mentions of violence, fear, paranoia, manipulation, injury, self-esteem issues, ptsd, self-deprecation, swearing/cursing/cussing, jealousy.

It’s Phoebe, so yeah

Roy had been staying with his sister until he could find a new place, and as much as he loved his sister and Phoebe, it was frustrating.

"Just admit you miss Jamie," his sister said as she sipped her tea as her brother prepared for training.

"Like a hole in my head," Roy says. 

"You don't think just abruptly stopping his training will mess with his game?"

"So you think I should have stayed in a failing relationship so he doesn't suck?"

"I am just saying, don't take shit out on him or the team. You aren't the only one miserable here," his sister says. 

"You think I'm that unprofessional?"

"You took your shit with Keeley out on Jamie, but the difference is, back then, he was a willing participant. Just don't ruin your career as a coach because you and your boyfriend had a spat and broke up."

Jamie is fucking miserable. He hates being alone. Dread had already had his morning shake threatening to make a reappearance twice before he made it to the Nelson Road car park. But he had nearly two decades of hiding his pain and misery. And heartbreak couldn't be as hard as hiding bruised ribs or broken toes, right? The team didn't have to know they split. How would they know that Roy had left him? Roy wouldn't tell them. He didn't like people knowing about his life. All Jamie had to do was go in, change into his kit, do his job, and he could go home and fall apart. He jumped slightly when someone knocked on his window. 

"You good, bruv?" Isaac asks when Jamie gets out.

"Yeah, just a rough morning," Jamie says. He is already ruining his own plan. 

"Try and shake it off. We have a brutal match tomorrow," Isaac says.

"Yeah, 'course," Jamie agrees as they walk into the building. "I'm sure I'll be fine once we get on the pitch, normalcy, yeah?"

"There we go, good vibes," Isaac says as they enter the locker room. Jamie keeps his head down and goes through the motions of getting changed. He mentally talks himself through the well-rehearsed process to keep his mind from wandering so he doesn't think about anything else. He must mutter something out loud because Cockburn gives him an odd look. 

"Miss training this morning?" He asks Jamie.

"What?" Jamie asks, shocked he was so terrible at hiding shit these days. 

"You are usually a ball of energy, but you're like a…live wire today," Cockburn says.

"Oh, yeah, slept like shit, so yeah, no training." He didn't have to tell him that it was because Roy didn't want to see him anymore. That Jamie had fucked up and ruined everything again. And now he was risking fucking up the team again. And he hadn't been this anxious for training since he came back to Richmond after getting booted from Man City. Yeah, he just keeps fucking up.

"Well, channel that shit into the ball. You're good at that."

"Yeah, thanks," Jamie says before he finishes changing. When his boots are laced, he doesn't wait to be told to head out. He just does. Maybe Cockburn is right, and he can work his shit out on the pitch. He is already out warming up by the time the team joins him. He doesn't notice the way Ted and Beard look at each other as Jamie silently joins them. 

Roy does everything he can to avoid looking at Jamie. He won't admit it out loud, but he's a bit concerned about what he will see when he finally does. He hadn't missed what Cockburn had said or how Jamie had responded from where he was waiting on Ted by the office. He thinks about what his sister has said, and then Cockburn calling Jamie a live wire. But this is Jamie Tartt. Sure, he might have an off day, but he's young. He's talented. He'll bounce back in a day or two. He ignores the tiny voice of doubt in the back of his mind that points out Jamie never got over Keeley. If he did, it was because of Roy. So he might not get over it until he finds someone new. And that made something twist in Roy's stomach. The idea of Jamie with anyone hurt, even though Roy was the one that walked out. He had no right to be mad at a hypothetical version of Jamie. So he tried to focus on doing his job. He was thankful that Ted called for 11 on 11. That meant Roy wouldn't have to try and coach Jamie and the other forward players directly yet. Because he isn't sure, he is ready. That little voice is back, asking him if he ever will be. He has to finally look at Jamie when he misses an easy shot. And just looking at him, he can already tell Jamie is being harder on himself than anyone else could be. He knows that from the way Jamie waves off Dani and Sam, trying to cheer him up. Normally, Roy would go over, hype Jamie up, and get him over whatever is in his head, and it would be fine. But Roy's the problem this time. He knows it. He is the one that packed his shit and walked out on Jamie. And he can't do that to Jamie. He doesn't want to be that couple that breaks up constantly. No. He has to stay away from Jamie. It's for Jamie's own good. He's young. Being with Roy could fuck up his career. The little voice points out he already has. Jamie's a mess, missing wide-open shots and shutting out his friends. Jamie’s backslid, and it's Roy's fault. Roy really needed a drink. As soon as he got out of training, he was going to the pub. 

Jamie is wound tight like a spring and rung out like a rag by the time training ends. He doesn't say anything to anyone. He just changed and goes home. At home, he doesn't eat or even change out of his clothes. He face plants on his bed, which still kinda smells like Roy, and tries to shut his brain off. He stays there until he eventually falls asleep after hours of tossing and turning. He wakes up, and everything is dark except for his phone. His phone is ringing. 

"Hmm?" He answers.

"Jesus, Jamie, I've been trying to get a hold of you for hours. The team is freaking out. What is going on?"

"Roy broke it off," Jamie tells her.

"I'm sorry, babe, how you feeling?"

"Like shit," Jamie admits. 

"Right," Keeley says as she thinks about it. "You get some sleep tonight. I'll let Sam know we talked. He's worried. And I'll come by tomorrow night, and we can talk, yeah?"

"Okay," Jamie says. He hangs up, double-checks his alarm, and goes back to sleep. 

Roy goes to the pub but ends up just getting food and leaving. He was not in the mood to deal with annoying fans. Normally he just tells them to fuck off, but he just wants to eat his dinner and drown his sorrows. So he goes back to his sister’s, goes to her liquor cupboard, and grabs a bottle, not really caring what it is. He pours a glass of whiskey and eats his dinner. Phoebe joins him, and he goes through the motions of listening to her. He tries, but he just doesn’t have it in him to entertain her. But he doesn’t send her to her room or get mad at her. It’s her home, and he’s just crashing there. The glass doesn’t stay empty for long. He drinks a bit more than he probably should before he passes out on the couch. He wakes up with a hangover. He finds a bottle of water and painkillers left for him by his sister. And he hates himself for being so stupid and being a burden on his family. 

Jamie’s stomach threatens to reject the small breakfast he managed to eat. But like the day before, he pushes through. 

"You look like shit," Colin says when Jamie walks into the locker room to prepare for the match, they have later in the day.

"Good to see you too, Colin." 

Jamie takes a nasty tackle during the match. He is so pissed at himself that nothing anyone says registers as he makes his way to the locker room. He'd come down hard on his wrist, and it was already swelling by the time he gets to there. The med team splints it and gives him an ice pack. He sniffles when he is alone in the treatment room. A voice that sounds suspiciously like his dad mentally berates him for being weak, for being soft, and a crybaby. He looks up to see Ted approaching him.

"Should be fine in a bit, don't use me hands in the game anyway, so should be good to go in-"

"Not sure that's the best idea, Jamie. Took a heck of a hit. You should rest."

"I'd feel better if I was back out there."

"Somehow, I doubt that."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, you have been struggling before that hit. Have been since yesterday. I figured you'd talk to someone eventually, but clearly, it is starting to impact your ability to play-"

"You're benching me because of this?" He gestures to his splinted wristed.

"I'm benching you because you don't look well, Jamie. And I tried to see if you could sort it out on your own, but short of calling your mom, I'm not sure how else to get through to you. Take a day or two and try and sort yourself out. Call someone if you need to."

"You're serious," Jamie says in disbelief.

"Go home, Jamie, rest up. Heal up. Check-in with you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yes, sir," Jamie says, his tone a bit cold. He goes back to the locker room and changes out of his kit. He leaves before the team even knows he's out of the game.

"You what?!" Roy shouts at Ted.

"Sent him home, he's injured, and clearly he-"

"He needs his support network, not to be sent home to overthink every mistake he made."

"For someone that walked out on the guy, you sure seem to be mad."

Roy has no comeback for that. All he can do is send a text to Keeley asking her to check on Jamie. And Keeley leaves the match early to do so.

"When was the last time you ate?" Keeley asks him when he lets her into his flat. 

"Earlier," Jamie says.

"Did you eat after they gave you pain meds?"

"Not hungry."

"Tell that to the future ulcer in your stomach from taking painkillers on an empty stomach."

"If I eat a sandwich, can I go back to bed?" 

"Jamie, I know you are hurting, but you can't just sleep all day."

"I'm not allowed to train. I can't focus on shit. I'll heal faster if I sleep, so seems fine to me."

"You aren't resting to heal. You're depressed. I know breakups are hard, but you can't just-"

"Yes, I can," Jamie says. 

"Jamie," Keeley was shocked by how defiant he was being. He had been a prick in the past, but this felt different. This was him determined to wallow in sadness. 

"Sorry," he mutters before going to make a sandwich he didn't even want but would eat because Keeley said so. "No guarantees it stays down," he adds.

"Are you sick?" She goes over and feels his forehead, and he lets her. But he knows he isn't sick sick. It was just in his head. 

"I'm not that kind of sick," he points out. He taps his head. "It's in me head. I just, I think about having to go to training. About having to see him. About letting the team down again. I feel like I'm back trying to get accepted at Richmond all over again, but I just keep fucking up, and everyone is going to hate me. And I can't even train to be better because he was the one training me, and I try to eat, but my stomach won't let me. I try to sleep, and I can't and-" He doesn't realize he is crying until Keeley hugs him.

"It's understandable to be anxious, babe," she drags him into the living room and sits him down. She gets out and orders him something she thinks he can eat to be delivered and something for herself because she has a feeling she isn't going anywhere for now. 

After they eat, Jamie falls asleep snuggled against her on the couch. Her phone buzzes, and she checks it. She rolls her eyes. It's Roy asking if Jamie is okay for the sixth time.

Keeley: if you are so concerned why not see for yourself

Roy-o: I'll only make it worse 

Keeley: how

Roy-o: because I am the reason he is this way

Keeley: no shit

Keeley: that means you could also fix it

Keeley: you're an idiot and a right prick you're both miserable

Keeley: you could fix it for both of you but you won't 

When Roy doesn't respond, she gets frustrated. She texts Ted.

Keeley: I got Jamie to eat, take something for his wrist, and sleep.

Ted: how bad is he?

Keeley: he is an anxious and heartbroken mess that has himself worked up that he is letting the team down

Ted: which only makes it seem like he is failing more which makes it worse and he's caught in a spiral of bad. Got it. 

Keeley: I'll stay with him tonight but I have to work tomorrow.

Ted: don't sweat it. We'll handle it.

Keeley: thanks Ted

Roy is the last one in the office, and the locker room is empty. Everyone else had gone home after the game. No one was in the mood to celebrate. An injured and benched striker could really hurt their chances in the league. Roy had thrown his phone across his desk after rereading the texts from Keeley. He gets a bottle of scotch out of his desk drawer and pours himself a drink. He wanted to check on Jamie himself. He wanted to make sure that Jamie wasn’t beating himself up for someone else tackling him. But he knew he couldn’t. He had been the one that put Jamie off his game. His phone goes off. 

Ted: You’re right. He needs his team.

Ted: He will still be at training but he is not allowed to train.

Roy leaves him on read and drains the rest of his drink before heading back to his sister’s place.

Keeley is trying to coax Jamie to eat the next morning when his doorbell rings. She finds a smiling Dani Rojas and a concerned-looking Sam Obisanya. 

"Oh, hi," she gives them a tired smile.

"Coach said Jamie needed friends," Dani says. 

"And breakfast," Sam adds. 

"He does," she nods and lets them in. "Look who dropped by, Jamie." 

Jamie immediately gets up from his spot on his sofa but relaxes a bit when he sees it's just Dani and Sam. 

"Hi guys," Jamie says. 

"I have to run home before work. Text me if you need anything." She hugs Jamie. "Let them help you," she whispers to him. "They care about you like I do. Don't fight them." She feels him a nod. She gives Jamie a kiss on the cheek, which earns her a small smile. "Okay, babes, see you all later." 

"How is your wrist?" Sam asks as he sets the takeaway containers on Jamie's coffee table. Dani hands him a paper cup. And Jamie smells the lovely scent of coffee, and he almost cries because Keeley is right. His friends are there because they care. They don't hate him. He hasn't actually ruined his relationship with his teammates. Maybe it was all in his head.

"I…fuck, it's good to see you guys," Jamie says, and he does have tears in his eyes.

"Of course, mi amigo," Dani smiles. "All you have to do is ask. We will be here."

"But we cannot help you if we don't know what is wrong," Sam says. And Jamie tells them everything because he can't keep it in, and he is a fucking mess. But Dani hugs him and tells him he is okay that he isn't bad or a failure. 

"You haven't ruined anything," Sam says. "Well, nothing that cannot be fixed. If you need someone to train with, just ask. Might not be 4 in the morning, but a few extra hours could be good."

"And we can do it together," Dani agrees. "Always more fun with more friends."

"You guys would do that for me?"

"Of course we will, you are our friend and our teammate, and this could help all of us be better, but not until after your arm is healed. Until then, we can still keep you company." Sam finds the remote and turns on the TV. He finds some mindless show that will work as background noise or a distraction. And they all settle in to eat. 

A few hours later, Sam has to leave to help his dad at Ola's, but Ted swings by to take his place for a bit. Dani and Ted fill the quiet and put Jamie's mind at ease until Dani leaves in the afternoon. Leaving just Jamie and Ted. 

"How you feeling?" Ted asks as they eat a light dinner.

"Better, actually. Like my thoughts aren't so loud, and I can eat without it coming back up."

"That's good, Jamie," Ted smiles at him. "You know I didn't send you home as punishment, right? I knew you were struggling, and I was going to call and check on you after the match. I was worried, but being with the team was making it worse, so I figured you needed a breather. Maybe I should have waited until after the match, but you do need rest, Jamie. Maybe not the time away from the team, but you need to let yourself relax. And I know that being alone ain't helpful when your head gets caught up in everything, but running yourself into the ground isn't good for you. You don't have to hide it, though. No one will think less of you for being in a rut. You have friends. You haven't failed anyone. You've worried them, but the team knows that this isn't the normal you. They aren't mad. They want to help. Let your team help you."

"It's just hard because…" Jamie can't say it.

"Because Roy is there?" Ted finishes for him. Jamie nods. "I can't imagine that is easy to deal with. But you aren't alone. You have the team. They're a good buffer and a great distraction. Now that Sam and Dani know, they'll help you. Keep you out of your head. Hopefully, keep a few of the others from asking questions."

Jamie groans because he knows the whole team is going to know now, and they will probably blame Jamie or Roy, and it could get even more awkward. He doesn't want anyone to be mad at Roy. He wasn't even mad at Roy. He missed Roy, and having to see him every day didn't make it any easier not to miss him. He was so fucking close, but it wasn't the same, and it hurt Jamie's soul. 

"Jamie," Ted starts. "This is just another obstacle you have to learn to navigate. Can't be avoided, but it can be overcome. You might need a bit of a boost from your buddies, but you can, and you will get past it. It just takes time. It will get easier."

"Thanks, Coach," Jamie says. 

Roy gets a text from Ted that Roy's going to be working with the defenders and reserves for the time being. And Roy knew this was coming. When Keeley told him, he was an idiot. His sister was right. He needed to find a way to make this work, or he'd have to leave Richmond. He couldn't let his issues ruin Jamie's career. And Richmond was good for Jamie. Yeah, it was Roy's home, but Jamie thrived there. He was hours away from his fucking old man. So he was safe from that bullshit. He had friends on the team that loved him. And he had Ted. Roy could find a new team if he needed to. He didn't want to, but he wanted Jamie to get better. And he did want Jamie to get better. But fuck, he didn't know how else to fix this. Jamie deserved better. 

A few days go by of Roy coaching the defenders. He tried to ignore the way Sam and a few of the team members would look at him. It made Roy feel uneasy. Most, if not all, of the players, knew that he'd left Jamie, and that is why Jamie was struggling. They knew Roy could see Jamie suffering, and as Keeley figured, he was just being a prick by letting it go on. They didn't know that they had fought over stuff they do all the time. That Jamie would be better off with someone that wouldn't ruin his career if the press found out. That Jamie deserved to be with someone his age. The nights are filled with liquor, and Roy’s mornings are usually a blur from being hung over. 

Keeley and Sam meet Ted and Beard at the Crown and Anchor. 

"We have to do something," Keeley says as she takes a pull off her drink. "They are both miserable, but Roy thinks Jamie is better off without him, even though Jamie is clearly not better off." 

"How do you know Roy thinks that?" Beard asks.

"Because his sister told me so, that and he has been drinking more than usual, and as much as Phoebe loves having her uncle around 24/7, his sister knows it isn't good for Roy."

"Okay, so what do we do?" 

"Make them realize they are idiots in love and are at their best when they are together."

"You want to Parent Trap them?" Ted asks.

"Exactly!"  Keeley grins. 

"But how?” Sam asks. “Neither of them are parents."

"Technically, they aren't,” Keeley states. “But I know at least one child they both would do anything for, and her mum is willing to help."

Keeley drops by training with Phoebe a week later. The match the day before had been a draw, and tensions were high. But they all knew something had to give. She leaves Phoebe with Ted and goes, as planned, to see Rebecca. 

Roy has no fucking clue how it happens, but one minute his niece is fine kicking the ball around with a few players. The next moment she is crying. Jamie is, of course, faster than he is and is physically closer to her. He is there before Roy even realizes what is going on. Even with his splinted wrist, Jamie picks Phoebe up and takes her inside. Ted tells Roy to go with them, and he'll find out what happens. Roy doesn't need to be told twice. He finds them in the treatment room with the med team looking over Phoebe's ankle. She sniffles, but Jamie is on the treatment table next to her, talking her through it. Her small little hand was in his. Jamie gets up when Roy enters and looks like he is about to leave. "Your Uncle's here now. You'll be-" Jamie starts to say, but Phoebe interrupts him.

"No!" Phoebe shouts and sniffles. She whispers something neither can hear to the medic, and the medic leaves. Both Roy and Jamie gape at Phoebe as she hops down off the table and hurries out the door. It slams closed, and they hear it lock behind her. Roy tries the door, but it doesn't open.

"Phoebe, open the door," Roy demands.

"No! Not until you two fix it," Phoebe's muffled voice shouts. "You love each other. So fix it!"

"Open the door now, Phoebe!" Roy shouts, and Jamie winces at the volume in the small space. 

"No!" She repeats.

"Did we just fall into a trap set by an 8-year-old girl?" Jamie asks. And Roy grunts.

"She has a key," Roy points out. "Which means she had help."

"Is it even legal to have a door lock like this in a public building?" Jamie wonders.

"Probably not, but she had help, and if Beard was in on it, then we are fucking stuck." 

Jamie goes to put his hands in the pocket of his trackies and winces as it moves his sore wrist.

"She didn't make it worse, did she?" Roy asks, now worried Phoebe just made Jamie's life even more difficult than it already was. 

"It's fine," Jamie says, now fiddling with the velcro on the splint and staring at the floor. "She's not that heavy."

"I know," Roy starts. "But if it's bad enough you can't play, then-"

"It's fine, Roy," Jamie repeats. "It's Phoebe. Wasn't just going to sit there and do nothing."

"Even if it made your injury worse?"

"It's Phoebe, so yeah," Jamie shrugs. "You might not like me anymore, but I'm not going to-"

"Who says I don't like you anymore, Jamie?" 

"Leaving with your bag and avoid me like the plague since has made that crystal fucking clear," Jamie says. "I'm going to visit my mum after the match in Blackburn. So you can get your shit if you want."

"Jamie," Roy starts, but he doesn't know how to finish. It is awkwardly silent. Because Roy asked for this, he wanted Jamie to move on. But even when Jamie was a prick to him and literally toasted to Roy's death, it didn't hurt this much. Because he hadn’t loved Jamie back then. And now, Jamie was guarded. Cold. He made Jamie this way. 

"Thought so," Jamie muttered. He pushes past Roy to the door. "Phoebe, I know you mean well, but can you please open the door? No matter what happens, you still have me. You have my number. You can use it. And I'm not mad you tricked us. And your uncle won't be either if you open the door," Jamie kept his tone just loud enough for her to hear through the door but not in an angry shout because he wasn't mad. He was numb. It was quiet for a minute before they heard the door unlock, and then it opened. Jamie gives Phoebe a sad smile. "Thanks, Phoebs." He pats her head with his good hand. "I owe you a quid," Jamie says, and he heads to the locker room. 

"Are you mad?" Phoebe asks Roy. 

"Not at you, kid," Roy says honestly.

"Are you mad at Jamie?" She asks.

"Fuck no," Roy says. He sighs. "I'm mad at whoever gave you that key. And myself, because I think I did more damage than I thought I did."

"Oh, is Jamie's hand okay?" She asks.

"I think so," Roy assures her. "He doesn't mind if it is sore. He cares more about you than he does his wrist. And he's right. No matter what happens, you still have both of us. If you want to talk to Jamie, you can. Be kind of shitty of me to take away another person in your life."

"I know," she says, her tone sad because both Roy and Jamie were still upset.

"Let's find Keeley, and you can make her get you ice cream."

"Okay," Phoebe says. 

"Fuck you," Roy glares at Ted as he throws the key Phoebe had given him before she left with Keeley. Keeley had already received a full Roy speech about using his niece in a childish plan. Roy goes and pours himself a drink because he is beyond done. His day is fucked, and there is no way he can do without something to take the edge off. 

"Hold on, let me-" Ted starts to say, but Roy is not having it. He growls as he slams the drawer of his desk and is back in the main office. 

"Fuck both of you!" Roy shouts at Beard too. "What gives you the right to fucking do what you did? She is a fucking child. You had her fucking lie to me. My own fucking family! You risked Jamie Tartt hurting his wrist worse because, of fucking course he wasn't going to let an injury stop him from helping Phoebe. He loves her like his fucking own. If you ever think of involving Phoebe in your fucking Rom-Communism bullshit again, I will punch you in the throat. She is a child!” He glares at Ted. “You are a fucking father! You should fucking know better! And this isn't a fucking movie! Things are never that simple, and you only made it worse! Because now he fucking hates me more! Made that perfectly clear! So stay the fuck out of it!" 

Roy storms out of the office. A few players and staff members hurry to get out of his way. 

"Well, that's not good," Ted says, looking over at Beard. 

"Nope," Beard agrees.

"Hey, Ted," Keeley says later that day when she calls him. "I need to warn you that-"

"Roy is very angry, I know," Ted sighs. 

"Well, yeah, but I think we did some additional damage to Jamie." She says.

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean, I called to ask if he wanted me to pick up dinner and come see him, but he said not to bother. He just wants to get his stuff ready for Blackburn and for going to his mum's. Told me he wasn't mad, but he is just done."

"What do you mean done?" 

"I don't know," Keeley admits. "He says he cleared it with Rebecca and Higgins to take the week after the Blackburn match off. He's going to Manchester. Just wanted to give you a heads up."

They load the bus for the 4-hour drive to Blackburn, and it is oddly subdued compared to the normal liveliness of the team. Everyone knows Jamie wasn't going to be returning with them. He'll be at the game, but he is taking the train to Manchester after. Jamie had assured his friends he'd be back in Richmond after a week. He didn't see his mum much, and with his wrist being fucked anyway, he was going to stay with her. 

The trip there was an uneasy one. 

Jamie and Dani Rojas shared a room. Normally he roomed with Sam or even Roy, but Sam had admitted to helping Phoebe with her plan, and Jamie had said he wasn't mad, but he still wasn't happy. He forgave Sam before the match, but nothing changed.

Roy paces around his hotel room after the match. Jamie had told him he was going to see his mum. But knowing he was and seeing him leave were two very different things. He had watched the team say goodbye. Some members of the team gave Roy pitying looks, and a couple of them glared at him. But Jamie had barely looked at Roy. And that had Roy's chest feeling painfully tight. He still loved Jamie. He couldn’t deny it. He’d already eaten the food he ordered and more than one beer. Only stopping when he realized how stupid it was to keep drinking like that. Jamie didn’t mind if the people in his life drank. But he was not a fan of drunks. Jamie’s father had thrown a few too many bottles at him while pissed. Roy ended up leaving the rest of the pack in the hotel room fridge untouched. He needed to get his shit together and drink until he passes out because of the idea of falling asleep without Jamie beside him fucking hurt. 

After a mostly sleepless night, Roy made a decision. He had everything set before most of the team was probably even awake. He went and knocked on Ted's door. 

"I am going to Manchester."

"What?" Ted was half awake.

"I'm going to Manchester. I won't be on the bus."

"Going after Jamie?" Ted asked hopefully.

"Might end up a fucking disaster, but I'm going to go."

"Good luck," Ted says. "Let me know how it goes."

Jamie thinks he's losing his mind when his mum answers the door, and he can swear he hears Roy. He makes his way to the hall and hears her arguing with someone. When he rounds the corner to the stairs, he freezes. It was Roy. 

Roy's eyes meet his, and he can see how tired Roy looks. 

"Fine," Jamie hears his mum say. "But you upset him, and I will throw you out. This is my house."

"Understood," Roy says, looking back at Georgie. She disappears down the hall and into the kitchen. Roy steps further into the entryway and closes the door behind him. He looks up at Jamie again.

"Hi," Roy says.

"Eh…hi," Jamie says. "What are you doing here?" 

"Can we talk?" 

"Sure," Jamie makes his way down the rest of the stairs and leads Roy to the living room. Jamie waits silently.

"I don't want to get my shit. I don't want to find a new flat. I…want to go home."

"You want me to move?" Jamie asks, annoyance in his tone. 

"Fuck no," Roy says. "Not really home if you aren't there." 

Jamie just stares at him. Roy sighs.

"Phoebe was right. I need to fix this." Roy gestures between Jamie and himself. "I know I fucked up. I just keep thinking you would be so much better off with anyone else. Someone that isn't an angry and broken idiot."

"But what if I don't want anyone else? What if I'm happy with an angry and broken idiot?"

"Are you happy?" Roy asks bluntly.

"Been a shitty few fucking weeks," Jamie says. "But I was happy before that."

"Even when I pick fights for stupid reasons?" Roy asks.

"Even then, because when we fight it out, the sex is fucking awesome," Jamie grins but it fades. "Not so much when you leave and don't come back. Even when you had the chance." 

"I didn't want to make things harder for you," Roy admits.

"Harder? Roy, I couldn't eat or sleep unless Keeley, Sam, or Dani stayed with me. I fucked up my wrist and couldn't even play. It was already too fucking hard. And after what happened with Phoebe, I didn't even want to see them. I just shut down. Went numb."

Roy grimaces. "I thought it would be better for you in the long run if you had the team. You would find someone new."

"I don't want anyone new!" Jamie shouts. "I just want you."

"I know but-"

He is cut off by Jamie grabbing his wrist and dragging Roy upstairs to his childhood bedroom. "Fucking look!" Jamie gestures to Roy's poster on the wall. "I told you I fucking loved you. Loved watching you play. Then I said I love you for you. Fucked up knee and-" Jamie goes over and takes the plastic whistle off the wall. "And your stupid fucking allergy to whistles." He throws it at Roy. He points at the poster again. "You fucking think I would want anyone else? I used to fucking dream of this, you fucking prick. Quit trying to fucking fight me, and let me love you."

Roy stares at the whistle as everything Jamie just said sinks in. Jamie loves every version of Roy. He can see that now. And it's a violent and terrifying feeling of love at times. But he feels it. And Roy is moving before he even knows what he's doing, but he just needs to be with Jamie. He feels like shit when Jamie isn't there. He pulls Jamie in and kisses him. 

"I can't fucking sleep either," Roy tells him. "Could only drink until I could actually sleep. Seeing you struggle and not being able to help was eating away at my fucking heart. Fucking shattered it when you told me you wanted me to move out."

"I never wanted you to leave, and if I was there when you came to get your stuff, I'm not sure I could have kept it together. I'd have lost my shit and either begged you to stay or just cry. So I gave you an out."

"I don't want an out," Roy puts a hand on Jamie's cheek and wipes away a few stray tears that were there. "I want you to be happy."

"I'm happy with you, you fucking bellend." Jamie kisses him desperately, hoping to make his point. "No one is ever happy all the time, not even Ted. It's how you handle the shit times that matters. You can't just run away, Roy."

"I know, and I won't. Not like this. Not again." Roy holds him close. 

"Fucking good," Jamie says. He even nudges Roy until the older man is sitting on his bed. Jamie goes over and kicks his door closed. "Now fucking prove it."

"Fulfilling those childhood dreams of yours?" Roy grins. 

"Fuck yeah," Jamie says as he straddles Roy's hips. 

"I fucking missed you," Roy growls before pulling Jamie into a kiss. 

"Missed you too," Jamie says against his lips.

"Fucking love you, you know that, right?" Roy grunts when Jamie shifts his weight, and he hits Roy's clothed and half-hard dick. 

"Yeah, I do," Jamie grins. "Fucking love you too. Now shut up before my mum hears you." Jamie kisses him. Roy swallows Jamie's moan when in a quick move, Roy pins him to the bed. 

If Jamie's mum hears them, she doesn't say anything when they finally make it back downstairs. She gives Roy another lecture about taking care of her son before telling Roy he is welcome to stay. Roy thanks her but says he booked a hotel. She even serves him tea.

"For how long?" Jamie asks.

 "Didn't want to assume you'd just accept me back," Roy says. "Or that your parents would even let me in."

"Thought you'd have to prove it, yeah?" Jamie says. The striker smirks when Roy chokes on his tea. Jamie had told him to prove it in his bedroom, and Roy had fucked Jamie under Roy's Chelsea poster.

"Goodness, Roy," Jamie's mum took the mug of tea from him as he coughed. "Are you alright?"

Roy nods. His eyes were watering. "Yeah, I'm good," Roy manages when he can breathe again. "Sorry," he says. 

"No need to apologize. Just try not to inhale it this time," Georgie insists. She hands him back the mug. 

"Thanks," Roy says. Jamie laughs. 

"Fucking finally," Someone says as Roy and Jamie walked into the locker room together a week later. 

"Fuck off," Roy glares.

"We're just happy for you," Sam says. "Feeling better?" He asks Jamie. 

"Yeah, thanks, mate," Jamie grins and puts his hand over his heart. "Didn't know you all missed me so much. I'm touched." 

That earns a mix of laughs and boos.

"Well, I'm glad you are back, mi amigo," Dani hugs him.

Jamie hugs him back. "Me too, mate, me too." 

[loveforpreserumsteve]

A Whole New Ballfield: "ALN" Story (Pre-Serum Omega!Steve and Alpha!Bucky Modern Domestic AU)

Fifteen:

Not unlike most years, Steve was the first to wake. Already the checklist in his head was forming. Knowing – almost by heart – what he needed to do for the first day of Hanukkah. The first thing, of course, was getting a pot of coffee started.

As the heavenly dark roast aroma filled the air as it brewed, Steve began breakfast. The dough had risen beautifully overnight, and Steve was relieved that they'd have plenty. Plenty of sufganiyots for even their big family to have more than enough. Especially for their ever-growing family to have enough. Sure, Ollie would be eating for two, but Kit wasn't known to shy away from extras either. Neither was Cori for that matter.

"'It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas,'" the radio played. Always the same songs over and over sang by different artists with their individual flare, but always the same –

Hearing the front door open, Steve could already feel his lips quirk into the start of a grin. There was only one person that that could be. Turning the radio off, Steve made his way towards the entryway where soft rustlings could be heard.

"How was your flight?"

Pausing in the middle of toeing off his boots and shrugging out of his peacoat, Ian smiled over at him. Getting back to shedding himself of his outerwear, Ian positively beamed, "I met someone."

"You did?" Steve couldn't help but swell with the happiness he felt for his adopted son.

Nodding, Ian removed his knitted beanie and scrubbed his hand over his hair, causing the recently colored green sponge curls to spring from their previously flattened state. "Yeah, she's incredible."

Giddy, Steve encouraged, "Well don't hold out on me! What's her name? What's she like? How'd you meet?"

Playfully, Ian rolled his eyes, but his grin only grew. Obviously completely smitten by this mystery girl. As they made their way further into the house, Ian started answering his adoptive omega father's questions.

"Her name is Wylie," Ian informed before pointing at Steve as though repeating the girl's words, "'That's Kylie, but with a W.'"

"Wylie, capital W," Steve set to memory, accepting the mug of coffee that the young Black man handed him. Taking just a sip before prompting, "And...?"

"And she's simply wonderful! We spent the whole flight talking about books and movies and politics and, well, everything. I've never felt so attuned with another person before."

Brows furrowing, Steve asked, "On the flight? You met on the flight?"

"Well," Ian shrugged a shoulder, dismissing how short of a time that was. "I mean, when's the last time you've talked to anyone for five hours straight?"

Sighing, Steve couldn't even answer because he wasn't sure if he ever had spent that much time speaking to anyone. Not even Bucky, but especially not when they first met. Of course, they had better things for their mouths to do when they first met than talk.

"Okay," Steve good-naturedly scoffed. Figuring that he couldn't judge the man when he and his own mate got together after a drunken hookup that ended with a pregnancy. Insisting, "Where's she from?"

"She's from Queens," Ian watched Steve's expression change from curious to interested.

"That's nice," Steve decided. Taking another drink of his black dark roast coffee, he half-teased, "Might make you come visit more."

Ian's lower lip pouted and his eyes turned sad, "I don't need someone else to make me come visit you guys."

"Oh, I know, sweetie," Steve assured. Reaching across the countertop, "We just never want you to leave."

"Pops," Ian rounded the island, so he could pull the omega into a great, big hug.

Pulling out of the embrace so he could get back to the jam-filled donuts, Steve asked, "Did you at least get her number?"

Rolling his eyes, the smile stayed on his face. As his tawny cheeks reddened, he pulled out a folded piece of paper, "Duh."

Steve couldn't fight the grin threatening to crease his face, so he didn't. Instead, he let the love bubble out of him and fill the space with his contented scent. And that contentness grew when it was paired with the younger alpha's. This was what Steve wanted. To be surrounded by those he loved and know that they loved and were loved in return.

"And you really think she's special?" Steve asked, wanting to be sure whether he should get his hopes up. "Because Kit thought that the barista was. Of course, they also thought the graphic designer was too."

"And don't forget the dirtbike rider," Ian added.

Pausing his kneading of the dough, Steve's brows furrowed, "Dirtbike rider?"

"Yeah," Ian took a drink of his own coffee, completely oblivious to the fact that Steve had no idea who he was talking about. "Christian or Christina, I can't remember. But they were cute."

Rolling out the dough, Steve said, "Wait. You saw them?"

"I called Kit, and they were at the track," Ian explained. Starting to realize that Steve had no idea who he was talking about. Messing with the septum ring with the white opal bead peeking out, "If it helps, I don't think it was anything serious. Just a friends with ben–"

"Okay, okay!" Steve chuckled, stopping the younger man, "I get it. I never told my mom about a partner unless I was hoping they'd stick around."

"Fair," Ian decided, taking it upon himself to add a spoonful of strawberry jam to the cutout pieces of dough.

"So," Steve kept his attention on finishing the donuts so they could be fried. "'Ya gonna try and hang out with Capital W, Wylie?"

"Definitely," Ian confirmed, golden-brown complexion reddening. Then, he teased, "She's the reason why I'm visiting."

Rolling up one of the scraps of dough, Steve threw it at the twenty-nine year old. Playfully muttering, "Smartass."

Tossing his head back, the younger man chuckled, "Love you too, pops."