#id almost bet money on it

[villanelleskiss]

y’all smell somethin’? 👀

[dylawas-reblogs]

So we all still agree that someone coming into your inbox with a GoFundMe is probably a scam right. Or did I miss a memo somewhere that those are legit now

[weidli]

(1:21 Salvation)

the look on dean's face here. what if i buried my head in a pile of sand

[ghouljams]

Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?

Rating: E (MDNI) Words: ~11k Tags: Ghost x f!Reader, Dirtbag!Ghost, strangers -> ???, groping, non-con kissing, coerced consent, oral (F!Receiving), fingering, squirting, piv sex, kidnapping? Summary: A stranger online promises he'll make your parents' Christmas hell, and you're eager to take him up on the offer. You may have bitten off more than you can chew.

<Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?

[casual encounters]

“I am a 35 year old former SAS operator with no A levels, tattoos, and a motorcycle. I can play anywhere from 30 to 40 depending on if I shave. I’m a line cook and I work late nights at my mate’s bar. If you’d like to have me pretend to be in a long term serious relationship with you, to torment your family, I’m game.

I can do these things, at your request:

Openly hit on female guests while you act like you don’t notice

Start instigative discussions about religion and/or politics

Propose to you in front of everyone

Talk at length about my time in the army including what it felt like to kill a man(good or bad your choice)

Pretend to be really drunk as the evening goes on(don’t drink much these days, but I know the drill)

Start an actual, physical fight with a family member, either inside or on the front lawn for all the neighbors to see.

Only pay I want is the free meal and the entertainment.”

-do NOT contact me with unsolicited services or offers

*

RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?” 

To:SASRiley@xxxxxx.xx

From:URHere@xxxxxx.xx

Is this offer still open?

*

RE: RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?”

To: URHere@xxxxxx.xx

From: SASRiley@xxxxxx.xx

Depends how far you want me to travel.

-S

*

RE: RE: RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?”

To: SASRiley@xxxxxx.xx

From: URHere@xxxxxx.xx

Any chance you’re in the XXXXX area? I’ll buy you lunch and we can talk details.

*

RE: RE: RE: RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?”

To: URHere@xxxxxx.xx

From: SASRiley@xxxxxxx.xx

Close enough for a free meal. I’m in XXXX

-S

*

RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?”

To: SASRiley@xxxxxx.xx

From: URHere@xxxxxx.xx

Let’s meet at Gallery Eats. Also can you send me an ID or something so I know what you look like?

*

RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?”

[attachment] [attachment]

Know you birds get jumpy, send it out to your little friends. 

Tuesday 15:30

See you there 

-S

*

He’s already at the shop when you get there, scrolling through his phone with his legs spread wide under the little wooden table, a full-face motorcycle helmet taking up more than half of the tiny tabletop.

You hadn’t realized how big the guy would be. Even sitting down he’s massive. You’d bet money he’s over six foot, and he easily eclipses the little cafe chair he’s settled in. His craigslist ad wasn’t lying when it said “tattoos.” The guy’s arms are covered in swirling black ink, and you follow the line of it up to the dark collar of his shirt where it peaks out to creep up his neck. He’s perfect. Your folks will hate him.

Dark eyes meet yours and a smirk creeps over his face, it tugs at a thin scar bisecting his lips.

He stands, and you bee-line for him.

“Thank god you look like your picture.” You huff, settling your bag on the chair across from him.

“That any way ta greet your man?” He grunts, holding a hand out. “Simon.”

You take his hand with a smile, and feel thick fingers wrap around your own. You glance down at the dark seal on the back of his hand, the carefully inked numbers already fading with age spelling out “141.” 

“So,” He smiles, leaning so far back in his seat that the chair tips, “How mad are we talkin’?”

*

It turns out Simon’s motorcycle isn’t his only mode of transportation. You roll up to your parents house in a half-wrapped muscle car that Simon claims he’s been “working on” and you can almost smell the distaste radiating off of your folks when they peak through the front window. Simon makes a big show of ignoring you while you try to get the oddly shaped Christmas gifts out of the trunk, lighting a cigarette and checking his phone while you struggle. Finally your parents decide to wander out onto their front step, and your father stalks over to take the bulkier gifts from you while Simon eyes him.

You grin at him, already pleased with his grumbling and glaring at Simon. Simon, for his part, offers a, “Sure it ain’t too heavy old man?” That makes a vein on your father’s temple throb angrily. He ambles after you and your father, and makes a show of giving your mom a once over.

“Sweetheart!” Your mother grimace-smiles at you, “Who is this?”

“This is Simon,” You sigh, leaning against Simon with a dopey smile, “My boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend.” Your mother grits her teeth, “You didn’t say you were bringing a guest.”

“Oh I know, but you can pull up a chair, right?” You gasp, “We’re not messing up your table are we?”

Your mother’s eye twitches. You know her well enough to know she’s already thinking about people bumping elbows at an overcrowded table. You can almost hear your little cousins complain about the lack of space. You also know she’ll never admit her annoyance in front of a guest.

“Of course not.” She smiles tightly, “The more the merrier.” She turns to Simon. “It’s nice to meet you Simon.”

Simon finally takes his cue, tossing his ashy cigarette onto the stone walkway with a flick of his fingers. He exhales nearly into your mother’s face before seemingly remembering last minute that, that’s rude.

“Nice to meet you,” His eyes flick down to your mother’s chest, “Can see where the bird gets ‘er tits from.”

You could scream with laughter the way your mother’s lips tighten into a thin line and her brows twitch down ever so slightly, the picture of barely contained shock and disgust. You can feel your father fuming on the other side of you.

“Why don’t we put presents down?” You chirp, trying to play at oblivious while Simon leers at your mother. She does her best to subtly cross her arms and tug the neck of her sweater closed. “Simon, do you have a hand to help dad?”

“Course, sweet’eart.” He hums, leaning to kiss your temple. A sweet gesture if he didn’t grab a handful of your ass at the same time, angled precisely so you’re sure your dad can see. “Christ you got a fat ass,” He mumbles, his voice low and graveled as he squeezes you again. You feel your cheeks heat in spite of yourself. It’s all pretend, all things you’ve talked about, but that doesn’t stop your body from reacting. His big hand lingers, fingers dragging over your ass as he pushes past your parents into the house. Uninvited.

You ignore your mother’s pointed look under the pretense of juggling presents, pushing into the house after your fake boyfriend.

Simon unceremoniously snatches the gifts from your father as soon as he’s in the house, haphazardly tossing the boxes under the tree while you carefully place your own presents, seemingly ignorant of your boyfriend’s lack of care.

“So how was the drive?” Your dad asks, trying to find something to talk about.

“Bloody awful,” Simon butts in before you can answer, he jerks his head in your direction, “‘ad to listen to the bird’s music the ‘ole time.”

“I thought you liked my music,” You pout.

“When tha fuck ‘ave I ever said that?” He snaps at you. You stifle the flinch and watch Simon’s brows draw down ever so slightly.

When you’d gone through all the details for this he’d told you to try and temper your flinching, assured you that you didn’t need to be scared of him, that if you were dating he’d never lay a hand on you. That didn’t stop his quick, harsh, response from startling you. At least the small crease in his brow made you think he didn’t enjoy the reaction.

“When we first met.” You smile, playing it off. 

“And you believed that?” Simon huffs, “Can’t believe I’m the first one to grab ya off the street with ‘ow gullible ya are.”

You blink at him, and turn to hastily cover for him to your dad.

“A consensual grabbing.” You assure him.

“Think I’m still deaf in my right ear from ‘ow loud ya screamed.” Simon grumbles, digging a finger into his ear as if to demonstrate his hearing loss. You feel your cheeks heat reflexively. Even fictional it’s embarrassing to imagine that you might have met a long term serious boyfriend in a kidnapping attempt.

Nevermind that the idea of someone like Simon grabbing you off the street is a major plot point in some of your favorite videos. You try to keep your mind out of the gutter, a difficult task with Simon’s fingers grazing your ass.

“It was a prank.” You continue covering.

“Bet actually.” Simon corrects in an attempt to make things worse. “Seein’ ‘oo could take the prettiest bird ‘ome.” He nudges your dad as if he’s bringing him in on the joke, “Should’ve seen ‘ow much this one struggled, should’ve known she’d be an ‘andful.”

“Your friends sound-” Your dad swallows whatever distaste boils behind his tongue in an effort to keep the peace, “interesting.”

“Served together.” Simon sniffs.

“Oh!” Your father seems to brighten at this new information.

“Lost a lot of good men, but kept all the worst, eh bird?” Simon tosses a smile your way. The playful grin lights up his face, tugs at his scars in a way that’s far too charming. 

“Where did you serve?” Your father asks, too eager for war talk.

“Went where I was needed.” Simon grunts. It’s an end to the conversation. You can see your father trying to think of where to go from there, if he should push for a different answer or ask about if Simon enjoyed his time in the service. He settles on exactly what you’re sure Simon was hoping for.

“So what do you do now?”

You almost brace yourself for his answer, and you’re glad for the added tension in your shoulders because it stops you from barking out a laugh.

“Beside fuckin’ the bird?” He doesn’t get another word out before your father growls out a loud.

“Alright-” that your mother cuts off with her well timed, if sudden entrance.

“Your aunt is on her way,” She informs you, “She’s excited to meet your boyfriend.”

“You got a lot of people comin’ ta this thing?” Simon asks, as if you hadn’t given him a full guest list.

“Just a few,” Your mother smiles, “my sister lives nearby so she’ll be bringing her boys.”

“Would’ve been nice ta know there were brats comin’ ta this thing,” Simon gives you a look and you pout.

“I told you this was a family thing.” You remind him.

“Didn’t know ya had so much family,” He sniffs, “Brother isn’t comin’ ta this too is ‘e?”

You have to stop yourself from grinning at the family landmine Simon so perfectly walked into.

“Henry doesn’t come to family functions anymore,” Your mother tells him curtly.

“Heard ‘e got tired of havin’ you scare off ‘is girls,” Simon grins, “thought you’d be a bigger bitch.” You choke. You mother’s gaze whips to you and you carefully go about adjusting the presents under the tree just so you don’t have to look at her. 

“Well I don’t know where you heard that,” The high note in your mother’s voice betrays her, the faux-calmness barely covering the boiling anger that’s starting to show, “but it’s not true.”

“Are you callin’ me a liar,” Simon’s voice takes an icy note in response and you glance over your shoulder to watch him roll his shoulders back. You can see the way his musculature moves even under his jumper. The threat is palpable, and also completely inappropriate for the situation.

He’s good at this.

It’s your father’s turn to diffuse the situation.

“You a footie fan?” He asks, because he’s ass at calming your mother (or anyone else) down. You can practically feel Simon’s attention shift, like the air in the room has to adjust to the pressure he exerts.

“City.” Simon huffs. You dad grins, and you know exactly what he’s going to say. Playful ribbing that somehow always ends in a screaming match.

“Manchester boy, eh? Ya find it hard losin’ to Liverpool all the time or do ya get used to it?” Your father jokes. The question hangs dead in the air. Simon hasn’t moved a muscle, so still it scares even you, and you know it’s just an act.

“You like chewin’ your food?” Simon asks, his voice so deathly calm that you grab his arm with  a laugh and pull at him.

“He’s just kidding Simon,” You placate, trying to pull your --wow this guy’s bicep is huge-- fake boyfriend away, “Right dad?”

“Oh come on,” You father tosses your way with a shake of his head, “I can handle a Manc-” He snorts and turns to Simon “-at least better than their players handle the ball.”

Simon flexes under your hands, and you physically can’t restrain him from shaking you off to stalk over to your dad. 

“Simon please,” You plead, you don’t even have to act, the way he grabs your father by the shirt collar you all but leap to wrap your arms around his waist and try to pull him back, “not again!”

“Again!” Your mother yelps as your father holds his hands up, eyes wide with fear.

“It was a joke,” Your father assures Simon.

“Fuckin’ better be.” Simon relents, releasing his hold on your father and turning those dark eyes to you.

“Look’t you grabbin’ me,” He grabs you before you can let him go, your muscles still vibrating with adrenaline. He holds your face with the same hand that had held your father, squeezes your cheeks with his fingers.“Real cute, thinkin’ you could ‘old me back.” Your stomach flips. “Taught you better’n that didn’ I? You want somethin’ you gotta ask, yeah?”

“I don’-” You try to shake yourself back to your senses and Simon squeezes you a little tighter, “Please let go.” Embarrassment settles hot in your stomach at the spark of… something in Simon’s eyes.

“There’s my girl,” He smiles, “Now give us a kiss love.”

You feel your stomach drop out, and you’re sure it shows on your face. Simon raises a brow. Your tongue feels too big in your dry mouth. You swallow and glance at your parents.

“I thought you said no PDA,” You try. This wasn’t in the brief.

“Just on the cheek then,” His smile is absolutely devilish, you wonder where he learned it, “Wouldn’t want ta embarrass you in front of your folks.” Your mother scoffs. Simon turns to glare at her and you rush a quick peck on his cheek just to get it over with.

His stubble is sharp where it pokes against your lips, but his skin is surprisingly soft. You almost hesitate pulling away. Your skin already feels hot with the humiliation of kissing a veritable stranger whose only goal is to antagonize your parents for the evening, so you don’t waste time with the action.

You’re saved by your aunt opening the front door with a loud, excited:

“Happy Christmas!”

Before she freezes in the doorway. Your cousins rush in, seemingly unaware of the tension and you take the opportunity to pull out of Simon’s grip.

“Is this a bad time?” Your aunt asks as tactfully as she can given the energy in the house.

“It’s a great time,” Simon answers for the crowd with a smile. Your mother throws an alarmed look your way and does her best to plaster on something less emotional for her sister.

“I thought you were gonna help with the presents,” Your uncle calls from behind your aunt, who immediately turns to help him get the boxes in. You see her vaguely gesture at the house through the crack between the door and the frame and wonder just what she’s trying to convey. 

This holiday is already off to a terrible start. Which is great. But you can’t shake the feeling that it’s going… worse than you’d initially thought it would.

“When are we eating?” One of your cousins asks, you turn to see the teen, Jack, staring at you. You suppose you’re the only adult that ever really gives any of them the time of day, makes sense he’d ask you.

“Uh,” you blink, trying to come up with a decent answer for him, “probably soon.”

“I wanna open presents,” One of the little ones whines.

“You gotta wait,” Jack tells him. 

“Ok!” Your aunt announces as she comes back inside, now holding gifts, “Looks like you’ve already started the party!”

“Haven’t even started drinking yet,” Simon assures her. Your uncle joins the fray, shuffling past you to set his gifts under the tree as well.

“You drink.” Your mother clarifies with a smile, she’s hiding the horror well.

“I’m the life of the party love,” He tosses your mom a wink and turns to look around. You assume for the liquor.

“What do you drink?” Your uncle asks, good natured as usual. That’ll change.

“Bourbon.” Simon hums, “But I’ll take a beer if that’s all ya got.”

“Sure there’s somethin’ around here somewhere.” Your uncle meanders over to your parent’s short liquor cabinet and starts rifling through the bottles. Your mother shoots you a look that practically begs you to stop him.

“Do you need something mom?” You ask, oblivious.

“It’s just a little early to start drinking, don't you think?” She asks, a leading question. You know what she’s trying to do.

“You sayin’ I can’t get a drink?” Simon asks.

“Let the man have a drink,” You uncle cajoles, “It’s a holiday!”

Your mother’s lips press into a thin line. She doesn’t comment on the glass your uncle pours for Simon, but she does retreat to the kitchen with your aunt in toe. You’re almost tempted to follow them and see what they’re saying. Maybe you could throw some fuel on the fire. Simon throws an arm around your shoulders before you can move, holding you against his side to keep you in place. You glance up at him, he doesn’t look at you. 

You tug your phone from your pocket for something to do, trying to look busy and uninterested in the chaos Simon is sowing, when it’s all you can think about. He manages a normal conversation with your little cousins, going through introductions like a regular person, even commenting on the shirt Jack is wearing. You glance at it and just know that was a fight with his mother. Looks like it’s based off some horror movie, blood dripping off a knife held aloft by a masked figure. Not very Christmas-y.

You can almost hear the argument that must have taken place when he’d put it on.

Simon must be smart enough to figure that out because he’s really hyping up the teen over the shirt. Talking about the movie and complaining about how his mom sounds like a bitch. Your cousin blinks at the swear before you see a grin split his face.

“Fuck yeah, is aunty letting us swear now?” Jack asks, too excited to contain it.

“The fuck is she the queen of England?” Simon laughs, turning to you, “Your mum’s not lettin’ ‘em swear?” You shrug.

“She says it isn’t ‘proper’.” Jack rolls his eyes.

“Fuck proper.” Simon snorts. He shoots you a look as he sips his drink. You’re sure Jack will be cussing the rest of the evening with Simon to back him up. Your mom’s gonna love that.

Your aunt comes out of the kitchen and grabs her husband to whisper in his ear. Your uncle glances at Simon and makes a confused face. One of the younger ones runs up to them and loudly asks:

“What’s fuck mean?” 

Simon averts his gaze and you feel his shoulders shake with restrained laughter. You have to hold it in yourself, the glare your aunt sends Simon’s way is too funny. The kid was bound to hear it from his brother eventually. Really, Simon is saving the teen from being grounded with that one.

Your mom comes sweeping into the living room just in time to save Simon from getting an earful. Your aunt’s glare transfers to her before she can fix her face. Your mother’s lips pucker, an unpleasant understanding that something is happening crossing her eyes. She ignores it, much like every other unpleasant thing you’ve witnessed with her, in favor of normalcy.

“Dinner is ready!” She announces.

“That was fast,” You blink, usually she spends more time milling about and waiting for people to finish a few cocktails.

“Well,” She smiles at Simon, “I thought I’d speed things up so nobody misses any other christmases.”

“Got nowhere to be.” He informs her.

“Oh I’m sure you’re mother would-”

“Mum’s dead.” Simon sniffs.

“Then your fath-”

“If the bastard was still alive I’d kill ‘im myself.” Simon smiles at her over the rim of his glass before knocking back the rest of the bourbon and pouring himself another two fingers, “You got me all night if I want.”

Your mothers lips pucker again, the slightest hint of distaste in her expression before she manages a smile.

“We’re glad to have you.” She offers. You expect she’ll still try to force you out early. “Dinner?”

“Bloody starvin’.” Simon grunts, pushing past her towards the kitchen.

Your uncle is already serving himself from the various pans laden with food. Your father isn’t far behind him, eyeing the roast like a man starved.

You grab one of the Christmas patterned plates and hold it out to Simon, letting him queue behind your father. He glances around and you watch his eyes land on your cousins hovering nearby.

“Adults serve first,” You whisper to Simon when he steps back from the line for food to let the kids cut in front. It’s a quiet motion that presses him into you, he glances back like he might give you an apology before he makes eye contact with your aunt and loops his arm around you instead. 

“What?” He asks loudly, “Your mum tryin’ ta starve the poor buggers or somethin’?” You blink at him. He raises a brow. “No heart under those tits, eh?”

Your aunt gasps and he gives her a once over. You keep your eyes on your little cousins as they happily load up their plates with turkey and mashed potatoes. One of the older boys smothers his whole plate in gravy and honestly, you can’t blame him.

“Can’t be jealous, ya clearly got the better ass.” Simon tells your aunt as you scooch around him to get your own plate. He catches you around the middle and pulls you back, curling over you. He tips your head back with a hand on your throat, thick fingers squeezing just enough to dimple the skin.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks. You barely hear him over the roll of butterflies in your stomach. Your cheeks blaze with heat, and you clench your thighs together tight at the way he glowers down at you.

“I’m gonna make you a plate,” You tell him, he pinches your cheek and lets you free.

“Good girl,” He tells you, “Got ‘er well trained don’t I?” He jokes to your aunt, who you can feel radiating anger behind you.

You don’t really know what he likes, but Simon is a big guy so you get him a bit of everything, loading up his plate like you do this every day. It’s probably too much food, but part of you sort of likes the idea that he’s eating what you “made” for him. You hand him the full plate and he smiles, you turn back to grab your own food --you must still be nervous from having his hand at your throat-- and he smacks your ass. You bite back the yelp that threatens to break free. The sharp sting of pain spreads through you like wildfire, blossoming over your skin even through your skirt.

You quickly pile food onto your plate, hoping your aunt takes your speedy exit as one of embarrassment and not one of- well a different sort of embarrassment.

You manage to squeeze into the seat next to Simon, feeling his thick thigh press against yours like a warm anchor. Your mother gives him a dirty look as he reaches to fool with one of the candles in the middle of the table. You’re sure she heard his loud announcement that she doesn’t care about her nephews. His other hand settles on your leg under the table and you stiffen. Thick callused fingers grip your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh with something you desperately want to call reassurance. He knows no one can see that, right?

You watch the rest of your family fill the table, your little cousins already picking at their food, stuffing salad leaves into their mouths and pretending not to lick the gravy off their fingers. You wait for everyone to take their seats before you pick up your fork and your aunt shoots you a look.

“I’d like to-” your aunt starts only to be cut off by your fake-boyfriend.

“I want ta make an announcement.” Simon tells the table loudly, the conversation goes dead, your mother’s eyes bore holes into you, begging for anything but an announcement. You think she might bend her fork with how tight she grips it watching Simon shove his chair back to drop to one knee. You clasp a hand over your mouth, doing your best to play the part of shocked girlfriend, despite having planned this. 

“Simon!” You squeal as he tugs a black ring box from his pocket.

“Lemme talk baby,” Simon hushes you and you shut your mouth quickly, “I know it’s only been a couple a months-” the look in your mother’s eyes could kill an elephant, “-but I’m mad fer ya, an’ I know birds like you get off market quick so if I wanna keep that ass to myself I bloody well better get ya tied down.” Your mother gasps.

“Shut ya gob, I’m tryin’ ta propose.” He snaps at her, and she leans back like she’s been struck. Simon turns back to you, and you feel a rush of heat drip between your legs at the look in his eyes. This guy should be on TV with how good an actor he is.

“Will you marry me?” He finally gets out and you nod.

“Of course I will!” You fling yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

His big hands find your waist and squeeze. You pull away to take the ring box and he nearly pulls you out of your chair, only to push you back into it as he kisses you.

Your eyes go wide and you struggle to keep your hands on him when all you want to do is lurch away. Not a good look on an excited and newly ringed up girlfriend.

But the way he kisses you makes your stomach churn. His lips cover yours and almost as quickly as you get used to the feeling his tongue is trying to force its way into your mouth. You rush to close your eyes only to feel his tongue, thankfully, retreat. And be replaced by his teeth, biting your lip hard enough to bruise, prying your lips apart to slip his tongue in and lick your teeth. 

Your head swims, your eyes rolling at the way his hands grope and squeeze you, tagging every soft scrap they can find while he attempts to devour you. He does something with his tongue, twists it against yours to tickle the roof of your mouth, and you make a noise without meaning to. It’s all you can do to remember to clumsily slide your lips against his. You’re not sure you make a pretty picture when he pulls away, his spit trailing off your slick, swollen, lips. You suppose this evening isn’t really about painting a pretty picture.

It makes you squirm to feel his big thumb swipe over your lower lip, dragging the poor thing down to see your teeth. 

A chill racks your body as his eyes follow the motion of his thumb.

Your father loudly clears his throat. Your mother looks mortified. Your little cousins are covering their eyes while the teen pointedly looks at his phone.

Simon rubs the ring on your finger, pressing the metal back and forth against your skin. When the fuck did he put that on you?

“I’d like to say Grace,” Your aunt tries to wrestle the evening back into familiar territory as Simon sets you back in your chair. 

Your family bows their heads and you smack your knee on the underside of the table as you jump, unprepared for how high Simon’s hand settles on your thigh. You don’t even hear whatever prayer your aunt is saying with the way the blood rushes in your ears at the wide splay of Simon’s fingers. So. Close. 

You settle your hand on his and try to push him back to safe ground.

Jesus this guy is strong. Pain in your-

“Everything okay over there?” Your uncle asks. You must have looked like you were struggling more than you thought you were. 

“Fine,” You tell him, even though things are decidedly not fine and Simon won’t move his hand, “Just fussing with the ring.”

“Oh yes,” Your aunt holds her hand out across the table, “let’s see it.”

You hesitate before taking your hand off Simon’s. He doesn’t move, seemingly settled with where he’s settled. You hold your hand out for her to grab, let her turn your hand this way and that. Simon had told you he’d grab a ring, so you haven’t actually seen it yet. It’s pretty. A nice pear cut diamond with a trinity of what looks like pearls on either side. You wonder where he got it, you’re just glad it looks less fake than costume jewelry usually does.

“How nice,” Your mother coos, it sounds even less sincere than her compliments usually do.

You’re thankful you don’t need to do much talking at dinner. Simon more than makes up for you. He talks at length about how “mint” your friends are --he’s never met them-- and how his mates are begging for a go with you. He explains to your teen cousin, at length, how his violent video games could be worse, after your aunt bemoans the fact he’s been playing war sims. He makes no move to censor himself, actually from the few conversations you’ve had with him, you think he’s swearing more than he usually does. He even manages to start an argument with your father about “taking the gloves off” during combat.

“Different once you’re in active combat,” He explains like he’s talking to your father, “You do what you have to, keepin’ your ‘ands clean isn’t exactly front of your mind.”

You glace across the table at Jack, the teen looks completely invested in whatever Simon is saying. You can almost hear the look your aunt has fixed you with, you’re sure you’ll get a call later about your fiance “encouraging him to get himself killed.” 

“Oh please,” Your father blusters, “if that were the case the royal service would be under investigation. We’d see it on the BBC: Special Air Service members torture civilians. What a load of horse-” Your mother coughs and your father shuts his mouth.

“Got plenty of men like me givin’ orders,” Simon digs into his pocket to pull his cigarettes, stopping with his teeth around the filter of one when your mother coughs loudly. He shoves them back into his pocket with a grumbled swear. “Like I told ya earlier, ‘s not the good men that come back.”

“You’re so cool,” Jack tells Simon with wide eyes. Your aunt smacks his arm with the back of her hand, reprimanding. Simon’s eyes narrow.

He watches your aunt the rest of dinner. The conversation drifts as plates are emptied. You attempt to stand to help clear the table, and Simon holds you in your chair. Your mother putters around the table with your aunt, you smile and thank them. You’re almost done. Then you can go home and wait for the flood of texts/calls from your mom.

You can just imagine the way she’ll try to convince you to break off your (fake)engagement. You’ll wait a few weeks before spinning up some story about Simon cheating on you. Your family will be so grateful Simon’s gone they won’t ask any questions.

“Does anyone want pudding or are we going straight to-”

“Presents!” Your youngest cousin cuts your mom off, rushing  to the tree as soon as his plate is cleared. Your aunt grabs him and brings him back to the table only for him to run over again. She manages to pull a gift from his little hands, and bring him screaming back to the table. You wince at the sharp sound, the fat tears rolling down the kid’s chubby cheeks, crying about opening presents. Your aunt reminds him shortly that there’s still dessert to get through. It barely makes a dent in the tears. The kid pulls at his mom’s grip, screaming and kicking. 

Simon’s hand on your thigh tippens its grip. 

You know, you know. It’s never fun sitting around with a kid throwing a tantrum, but you’re sure your aunt will handle it-

There’s a sharp crack as your aunt spanks the kid. Hard.

Simon shoots up from his seat.

Your little cousin’s tears turn to sniffles and a wobbly lip as his mom gives him a hissed warning. 

Your hands shake as Simon stalks around the table to grab your aunt’s hand.

“The one thing you’re not gonna fuckin’ do,” He tells her in a low warning tone, “is hit your fuckin’ kid in front of me.”

It’s so different from the anger he’d had with your father over football. You know that, that was acting, but this… It radiates off of Simon like a miasma, dark seething hatred, anger like you’ve never seen. Your aunt looks at him like she’s seen a ghost. Her eyes are wide and scared, her hand still holding your cousin’s arm squeezes tighter, like the child is her only lifeline. 

“Ow!” The kid whines, the sniffles starting again in full, “Mum that hurts.” 

Simon cocks his head, his own grip tightening.

“Let ‘im go,” Simon presses, his anger as cold as death, “Or I’ll break your arm.”

“Simon,” You don’t know what you’re hoping your voice will add to this, not even sure what you should do, all you know is that you brought Simon into this house which makes him your responsibility.

“He’s alright,” Your aunt tries to assure Simon, “aren’t you sweetie?”

“Mum!” Your cousin whines again. Your aunt lets go of his arm like it’s burned her.

“Now apologize.” Simon demands. Your aunt nods sharply and swallows.

“Mum’s sorry baby,” She directs the comment at your cousin but her eyes are fixed on Simon, watching him like a rabbit watches a wolf. “It was just a little spank.” You think the pleading justification makes it worse with the way Simon’s eye twitches. 

“I ever catch you hittin’ ‘im again-” Your aunt’s eyes dart to you, to the fake rock on your finger, “-and it won’t just be your arm I break.”

Your glance to your mother for- God you don’t even know, help? Maybe? She glares at you like this is your fault. Fair enough. Your uncle seems quicker on the uptake.

“Maybe we take Christmas to go,” He chimes in, “Grab the kid’s gifts, since they seem tired.”

Your mother grabs hold of this lifeline as quickly as she can wrap her head around it.

“Absolutely!” She hurries to the tree to start sorting out gifts, “Oh I didn’t realize they’d be so exhausted, we all know fits are just fits, right Simon?”

“I look like I’m throwin’ a fuckin’ fit?” Simon asks her, his voice still cold.

“You know I’m pretty tired too,” Your aunt agrees.

“I’m not.” Jack chimes in.

“Yes, you are.” His mom hisses.

“And it looks like snow,” Your uncle adds, “so we should go.”

You hardly get a word in before your cousins are rushed out the door, no hug or forced familiarity from your aunt as she and your uncle juggle presents and strapping kids into car seats.

Simon takes one of the armchairs in the living room amidst the chaos, dangling his glass with his fingers on the rim as he glowers at your aunt. Your attempt to help them gather presents is stopped by Simon pulling you down into his lap. You stiffen reflexively to try and leverage some of your weight off of him, and he pulls you to lean against his chest. 

Maybe it’s good you don’t say good-bye. You’re not sure anything you could say would sound sincere with the way you’re perched on your fake fiance. You’ll definitely be hearing about this later.

You’ve never seen anyone in your family leave that fast. Your mother must blame you for this social faux pas with the way she glares at you. She’s not even trying to hide it, seemingly having deemed Simon as unworthy of her usual polite routine. She stops just short of yelling at you in front of him. Must be too afraid of what he’ll do to her if he’s willing to break your aunt’s arm over her kid.

You’re not sure when you lost control of the evening, but you’re ready to go. Your aunt’s exit should be your exit too. You even open your mouth to tell your mother it’s been a lovely evening.

Simon beat you to it.

“Let’s open presents.” You’d almost call it an order with how edged his voice is.

“We don’t have any for you,” Your mother attempts, “it wouldn’t be fair to open them now.”

“Don’t need a present,” Simon assures her, “Bird’ll gimme somethin’ later.” Your mother’s eye twitches. Simon’s hand slides over your thigh, his thumb rubbing gently at the sensitive, clothed, skin. Your nerves must be on high alert to feel his touch so acutely. He gestures with his glass at the tree. “Go’an,” He orders again.

The tension in Simon’s form slowly seeps out of him as your parents shuffle presents out from under the tree. His body, which had previously seemed poised to leap at the slightest provocation, relaxes back against the chair as your mother hands you a present. She smiles at you warmly, almost pitying, when you thank her. Simon’s hand doesn’t leave your thigh, possessive in a way that feels too close to reality. 

“Oh wait,” You tell your mother as she pulls one of the gifts you brought from the pile. You slip from Simon’s lap, and for some reason he lets you, bent at the waist to point to a different box. His hand slides over the swell of your ass with an appreciative hum and you have to stop the tremor in your voice as your blood rushes south. “That one first,” You smile, “otherwise this one won’t make sense.”

The normalcy of it is more welcome than you’d thought. Somehow your usual family Christmas doesn’t seem as tense or fraught with conversational landmines now that Simon’s intruded. If nothing else you suppose he’s given you that. It’s certainly easier talking to your parents when they keep casting nervous glances at Simon to make sure this is an appropriate line of conversation. 

Simon, for his part, does little except keep you in his lap as you tear into the paper wrapped boxes. Occasionally his hand moves from your thigh to squeeze your stomach, or your side, as if he’s checking that you’re still all there. It’s not exactly casual, and the heat that builds between your legs as he drags his callused fingers across your stomach makes you want to squirm back into his chest, just to try and escape the ticklish feeling.

You try to focus on the gifts, drumming up the appropriate amount of excitement to look grateful while all of your attention is on the spread of Simon’s fingers. His hand splays wide against you and you try to trace the outline of it, distract yourself from how big his hand is. 

But distracting yourself from the spread of his hand directs you towards the spread of his legs, to the firm muscle of his thick thighs, to the slight softness of his stomach when your back starts to hurt and you lean against him with less stiff of a spine. Your eyes drift to the window as your mother coos over the knitting supplies and class pass to her favorite craft store. It’s so dark out, the sun already disappeared behind the horizon and the streetlights are doing their best to shine even when the night dims them. You’re already tired.

Your phone buzzes and you check it with a glance.

It’s a weather alert.

You scramble off Simon’s lap only to be dragged back into it.

“Where d’you think you’re goin’?” He asks, his hands grip your sides, fingers just brushing the edge of your bra. You can’t deal with the way being pulled like this makes your head swim. Fuck, maybe he could just grab you off the street and- NO.

“Simon,” You push at his hands, “problem.” 

“No problem love,” He hums. Lips brush the shell of your ear and you stiffen as heat blooms over your cheeks, “‘Cept you gettin’ up oll the time.” “It’s snowing.” You insist, still pushing at his hands.

Your father looks at you with confusion and glances out the window. It’s hard to see when it’s so dark out. You’re suddenly hit with a grim understanding of why the street lamps seem so dim. Your dad walks to the front door and tugs it open only to be pushed by the gust of cold wind and snow that rushes into the house.

The wind is positively howling.

Your father muscles the door shut and your mother nervously clicks on the TV to check the weather. She doesn’t even help your dad brush all the snow off him, worrying her lip as her eyes fix to the screen. 

“Not gonna be able to drive home in that,” Your father grimaces. Your mother shoots him a look before skirting her eyes around you to watch Simon. You can almost feel his smile.

“You wouldn’t mind us stayin’ ‘ere would ya?”

You flip on the lights in your childhood bedroom. Simon looms behind you. Reasonably you understand why he insisted on staying, even why he insisted on sharing a room. As far as your parents know you’re happily engaged, and as far as you could tell there was a blizzard raging outside. Honestly you’ve never seen anything like it, and if you didn’t know any better you might have blamed Simon for it. 

You have never in your life been more aware of another person’s presence. 

“In you go love,” Simon tells you, pressing you forwards with a hand on the small of your back. You stumble into your room and turn in time to watch Simon close the door. He bends down to unlace his boots and you manage to kick off your shoes in the time it takes him to straighten again. Now that you’re alone you feel on edge. All the casual friendly airs that Simon had been putting on when you’d met him before have done nothing to prepare you for the weight of his full attention. You’re only too happy when he turns to survey the room.

“I can take the floor,” You inform him, already gathering the spare blankets and pillows your mom had set on your twin bed. 

“Sit down,” Simon orders, your ass hits the side of your mattress so fast you haven’t even registered the command before you’ve followed it, “You’re takin’ the bed.”

His tone leaves no room for argument. You suppose it could almost be called kind of him to give you the bed.

“Sorry,” You tell him quietly, mindful of your parents in the next room.

“What’re you actin’ sorry for,” He huffs, “Sweet bird like you doesn’t mind sharin’, does she? Besides,” He knocks your knees apart with a big booted foot, “I still gotta get paid.”

You stare up at him, confusion plain on your face. 

“I thought you just wanted the meal.”

“Meal’s not finished, is it?” He tells you, “Never got dessert.”

“Wha-”

“Take your fuckin’ pants off.” His tone is clipped, short, and deep. It sinks into your skin, prickling goosebumps everywhere he’d touched earlier. Which feels like it must have been, well, everywhere. 

You should say “no.” Literally nothing about this man has given you any indication that he’s someone you should want to get undressed for, and he’s spent the better part of the day tormenting your family. Granted you did ask him to do that, and honestly his efforts do land squarely in the “pros” category, but he’s a little too good at playing a dirt-bag. And this? This just seals the deal on that particular observation.

So you should say “no.”

But the way his big hands had grabbed you, the way his tongue had wound against yours, the way he looks down at you now, hungry, makes you desperately want to do whatever he asks you to. 

“My parents are in the next room,” You whisper, glancing back at the wall that separates the two rooms.

“Who gives a shit?” Simon snorts, “Don’t ‘appy couples celebrate their engagement?” Your eyes flick down to his trousers, the implications aren’t lost on you. He must catch you looking because his hand grabs your hair and tips your head back. “Trust me birdy, I’m tryin’ ta be nice, but if ya wanna choke on it…”

You race to get your trousers open, fingers shaking as you push them down. You don’t need to see his cock to make some leaps of logic that it’s just as big as the rest of him, and if he’s offering you the choice between his mouth on you, and your mouth on him-

Simon leans forward and unceremoniously shoves his hand into your panties, your trousers barely down your thighs. Your train of thought comes to a full halt as big fingers stroke through your folds.

“Atta girl,” He hums, “much ‘appier like this, aren’t ya?” He tugs his fingers free, spreads them in front of your face with a pitying pout at the way your slick glistens on his skin. “Least your cunt knows what’s good for it.”

He pushes your head back, tossing it towards the bed as he releases your hair. Your back hits the mattress and you have to work to keep from hitting your head on the wall. Simon’s fingers find the hem of your panties and drag them down your thighs, catching your trousers to discard the lot on the floor. 

You snap your legs shut against the chill of the room and he growls. 

“None of that now,” He advises, prying your legs apart. His fingers dig into the soft meat of your thighs, his gaze fixed on the wet mess between them. The way he stands over you makes him feel massive, makes the way he leans over you feel looming. 

His hands slide over your ticklish inner thighs and you have to stifle the giggle that threatens to spill from you. You doubt Simon would appreciate your laughter, might even think you’re laughing at him. Again your eyes dart to the hard length straining against his trousers as his thumbs spread your folds.

“Pretty,” He says it so plainly, casually, like he’s judging a toy. It blazes through you, lighting up your nerves and making you shiver. Any other protests you might have had die on your tongue as Simon drops to his knees. 

Seeing him between your legs makes your stomach clench, makes your cunt pulse with desire. One of his thumbs rubs up and down the seam of your cunt while the other keeps you half-spread. He presses his thumb firmly against your clit, the pressure makes your hips squirm, makes you ache for more stimulation. The pressure stops, and his thumb traces its way back to holding you open.

He spits.

You flinch when it hits your spread folds, body vibrating with embarrassed heat as it slides over you. Simon’s eyes follow it the whole way down, and his tongue drags it back up.

Simon’s tongue cards through your folds, warm and wet, and he groans low in his throat. It’s positively sinful the way he pulls his tongue slow and flat over you, like he’s trying to savor the taste. You snap your hand over your mouth, stifling the soft whimper that the attention brings to your lips. 

Simon’s eyes flick to your face and he makes a frustrated noise. You feel his teeth touch your skin just before he bites you. You yelp at the sharp pain, your hand shooting from your mouth to his head in an attempt to push him away. Simon tips his head back to bite at the meat of your palm, his teeth digging into the firm flesh before his tongue licks over it. There’s a sharpness to his teeth, chipped edges that scrape at your skin and ache before he soothes them. 

You don’t want him to bite you again.

You don’t think you do.

Do you?

His tongue rolls over your palm, wetting the dry skin with spit and slick. His mouth has a heady sheen to it that makes you want to drag your tongue over his lips, to clean up the light prickle of his beard with your own mouth.

“No sense lettin’ you breath if you’re not gonna scream for me,” Simon informs you. Your face has never felt hotter than when his teeth scrape down your palm to tease your pulse. You’re too enraptured by the way he moves to let spit drip off his tongue and onto your clit to really register what he said.

His tongue rubs against your clit, working the firm bud back and forth before letting his tongue roll over it. Each hot swipe sends a new shudder of heat and pleasure through your body. You whimper, your wet hand tangling its fingers in his short cropped hair just to feel him shake his head like a dog. 

It’s filthy the way he drags his lips over your folds, sucking and slurping at you like he’s trying to be loud. His stubble scratches at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, prickly and sharp next to the warm wet mouth that sucks at your clit. His tongue keeps twisting over it, keeping it sensitive and tingling before he’s ducking down to fuck the slick muscle into your hole. Simon moves his tongue against the entrance to your cunt like he’s hoping to stretch out the hole with it, circling around the delicate outer edge before pressing inside, over and over until your brain feels like it’ll melt out of your ears. 

Then that wet heat is dragged up to your clit, circled and sucked, licked in broad strokes that wiggle against you just so he can hear the way your voice pitches up in pleasure.

He turns his head to wipe his mouth against your thigh, lips parting to lick a long stripe before he sinks his teeth into the meat of it and sucks. Your own lips close tight around the whimper the dull pain of it pulls from you. 

He muscles your leg up against his shoulder, his arm moving to find a comfortable angle as he hooks his thumb in your fluttering cunt. You blink at the intrusion, the thick digit may as well be two of your own fingers the way he pulls at your entrance and stretches you open. That isn’t what steals your focus from his mouth though, what tugs at you is the way his other thick fingers rub over your ass, spreading your slick and attempting to soften the hole into something pliant.

He’s grabbed your hips to roll you onto your stomach before you can raise a protest to the searching fingers, big strong hands dragging your hips up so your knees settle on the edge of the bed as he stands. It forces your face into the quilts, muffling the noise of surprise that the motion shakes out of you. Again you find protests on your lips, you hadn’t even come, and again they’re snuffed by his fingers.

Two of them push into your cunt and you moan low in your throat at the burning stretch that they provide. Your hips rock back into them, your stomach fluttering with need as more heat courses through you. His fingers crook and he thrusts them down into your cunt, hitting some throbbing tightness that makes you cry out.

Simon makes a low cooing noise in the back of his throat and his fingers stroke against your walls. You turn your head to rest your cheek against the bed, your lips pouting and your lashes fluttering as he gives you just long enough to suck in a breath before his fingers are pressing against that soft aching spot again. Your eyes roll, your breath caught tight in your throat at the thrum of pleasure that tightens like burning heat in your aching cunt.

His fingers pump faster and faster into your cunt, and you cry out, your hips wiggling and your fingers gripping at the quilt. The wet squelching noise that comes from his fingers fucking into you makes an embarrassed heat rush over your skin, and you burry your face in the blankets just to gasp out your moans. Your mouth hangs open, drool dripping off your tongue as your breath stops in your throat. The tight heat between your legs feels like it’s winding its way all the way up through your diaphragm. Your muscles are tensed so tight you think you might snap, and you let out a low moan as your breath finally shakes free. You suck in air between sobs, each punch of his fingers into your cunt pushing a new noise free of your lips.

The wet noises just get wetter.

And then something inside you snaps. Your stomach clenches tight and your cunt follows, spasming around Simon’s fingers as they pump in and out of you. Stars dance across your vision and you bite the quilts to stop from screaming. Something trickles out of you and he rewards your orgasm with a throaty chuckle.

He pulls his fingers from you and rubs soaked fingers over your ass before he’s trying to push one inside.

“Been eyein’ this ass all night.” He hums.

The firm pressure hurts the harder he presses, and you whimper out a sniffled reproach to the feeling, a soft “hurts” that you’re sure will fall on deaf ears. Simon stops, pulls his finger back and slicks it in your cunt again, the feeling of his fingers twisting against your soft spot making your eyes roll. It hurts, an overworked burn that makes you whimper for an entirely different reason.

He pulls his thick fingers from your cunt and you feel the tip of one teasing your ass again. It’s barely a pressure when his finger tries your ass again, and he lets out a slow breath as you’re filled.

“Just sunk right in,” He tells you, pumping his finger in and out, the drag of heat has your lashes fluttering, your head spinning at the deep pressure that makes your cunt clench, “Isn’t that pretty.”

His thumb catches your cunt again, tugging at the slick hole. The click of his belt and rustle of fabric clues you in to what comes next.

That doesn’t mean you’re prepared for how big his cock feels nudging at your entrance. A chill runs over your skin, goosebumps raising to meet the air where your jumper has slid down your back. The blunt head of his cock presses against your hole, and you arch your back into the feeling, desperate to find the right angle for it to slip in. 

Simon doesn’t seem as eager. He pushes into you slowly, lets you feel the way you burn and stretch around him, lets you feel every centimeter of that big cock. You feel tight, even as wet as you are, you feel like you’re squeezing the life out of him. Your cunt is hot and tingling, and your clit throbs with the need to be touched. 

You feel his hips press against your ass, and he grinds into you. Another wave of goosebumps rushes over you at the deep ache he pushes into. You squeeze your eyes shut just to stop the way they keep trying to roll back in your head.

Simon pulls back, and you can almost feel the drag of his head against your walls. He grinds the tip against the soft spot near your entrance before punching his cock back into you. You make a choked noise before your throat seems to open and a flood of moans and pleas flows from you. Each push of his cock into you pitches your voice up and you moan in desperate panting sounds.

You ache. You’ve never felt so full. He hasn’t taken his finger from your ass, instead he presses it down to try and feel his own cock stretching out your walls. You shove a hand between your legs to try and stroke your clit only to feel the stretch of your skin around his fat cock. You’re so wet that your fingers slip over your folds, uncoordinated, and you can’t get a good angle. You open your mouth but can’t find the words to ask for what you need.

One of his thrusts pushes you up the bed and your hand moves immediately to push against the wall with a ‘thump.’ 

“Simon,” You whine, “Simon.”

His free hand pets up your spine, bunching your jumper up under your armpits to unhook your bra, before finding its way to your hair. He curls his fingers and finds a tight grip near your scalp. The bite of pain makes you want to push back into him. The deep pressure, the slight sting, from your ass makes your body stutter, your brain crashing into itself.

Oh God.

“Not a thought in that pretty little ‘ead is there?” He asks, the fingers gripping your hair tight pull your head back, you moan your pleasure for him as he gives a hard thrust into you, your bleary eyes opened just enough to focus on the white wall. “Course not,” Simon grunts, a huff of laughter edging his voice, “Wouldn't've responded to my ad if there was.” 

You reach back to claw at his thigh and find it still, painfully, clothed. A burst of humiliation shoots through you at the thought that Simon hasn’t even bothered to get undressed. 

“Stupid thing, really could’ve just grabbed ya off the street.” He mumbles, there’s a touch of fondness to his voice, a smile that doesn’t feel appropriate for the way he fucks into you. Like he’s trying to teach you a lesson.

The only thing you’re learning is that Simon’s cock hits something deep and needy inside of you. The finger in your ass starts to pull out and you scream. Simon groans as you tighten around him, your cunt desperate to keep his cock inside. You’re buzzing with your orgasm, settled right at the edge with nothing to push you over the edge. There’s too much stimulation. His cock pistoning into you and his finger starting to tug at your ass. You’re still sore from his fingers but you can’t stop yourself from clenching tight around him.

“Mad fer it,” Simon chuckles, “tell me what ya need bird.”

“Clit- clit,” You stutter out, still barely able to keep the words straight in your head. 

“Louder love,” He teases, “don’t think I heard ya.”

“Please,” You sob, your moans still tearing from your chest on each thrust, “touch my clit.”

He drops your head back down onto the bed, and you muffle your noise with the quilt clenched between your teeth. His finger pulls from your ass and you scream your pleasure into the bed. It’s so hot, your ass burning with something that isn’t entirely painful. It just makes your clit pulse harder. 

Simon’s fingers find their way between your legs and he pinches your clit between them. One roll of the tight bud between them has your legs shaking. The second has tears brimming at your lash line and your mouth hanging open as you flutter and drip on Simon’s cock. You tense and release around him, your orgasm crashing into you like a train. Waves of it rush through you, shaking your muscles loose until you’re laid like a doll against the bed. Your skin is burning and you ache,

And Simon keeps fucking you.

The smack of his hips against yours fills the room, his breath heavy and his fingers now tight on your waist. You push back into his thrusts and it makes stars dance across your vision. That deep aching part of you makes everything draw tight again. 

Simon’s thrusts grow quicker, rougher, his fingers grip you so tight it hurts. You scream for him again, his hard thrusts pushing you to the edge a third time. The blistering heat of his come hits your overworked cunt and you moan. 

“Too much,” You whine. Everything is sore when he pulls out. You don’t think you can move.

Your knees slip off the edge of the bed and you just lay there.

Simon rolls you back onto your back, and manhandles you into laying on the bed properly. 

You sit up just enough to tug your jumper off and toss your bra to the floor with the rest of your clothes. Simon ditches his shirt and you sleepily take in the cut musculature of his chest as he wanders to turn off the light.

You pass out before he ever gets his pants off.

*

Your parents have already gathered the presents from last night by the front door when you wander downstairs in the morning. Your father doesn’t look at you, but your mother positively glowers. You try not to think about how loud you’d been last night.

Simon’s had his hands on you since you woke up. His fingers splay wide on the small of your back, as your parents attempt to rush you out the door. 

You’re settled in Simon’s car, driving down the street when you finally let the laughter take over. You giggle and snort, pressing your fingers against your mouth to try and stem the flow of them. But really, what can you do? Despite being forced to spend the night putting a dent in your plans it’s worked out perfectly. Your parents won’t be asking about you getting a boyfriend any time soon.

If you’re lucky your mom will never ask you about your relationship status again, even when you “break up” with Simon.

You’re still giggling, glowing with happiness at a successfully executed plan, when you try to pull the ring off your finger.

Something sharp digs into your skin and you yelp in pain. 

“What the fuck?” You question, whimpering when you pull harder and it only sends the sharp bit further into your skin. You raise your hand to look at the ring, and find a sharp tooth just under the diamond, clearly a feature not a bug. Still you glance at Simon. “I think this ring is defective,” You tell him, “It keeps stabbing me.”

Simon hums, turning right down a street. 

“Then stop tryin’ ta take it off.” He advises. You twist the ring around your finger, trying to find  a way to work it off.

“I can’t get it off,” You grunt in annoyance.

“Not suppose ta,” Simon tells you plainly, taking another turn, “That’s how bein’ engaged works.”

Something squirms in your stomach.

“We’re not engaged.” You remind him.

“Wearing my ring,” He reminds you, like he’s explaining it to a child, “said ‘yes’ to my proposal-” A smile splits his face, predatory in a way that makes you press your legs together, “-probably still buzzin’ for my cock too. Sounds engaged to me.”

You balk, your mouth hung open as you gape at him. Is he insane?

Simon doesn’t even look at you, just reaches to the side and presses against the underside of your chin with gentle, firm fingers, closing your mouth. Then he leans past you to open the glove compartment and tug a crumple of papers out onto your lap.

“If ya get bored you can look over those.” He tells you, flicking on his signal to hop on the highway.

You glance down at the mess of papers settled on your thighs, a mass of text and fine print that your eyes can’t focus on because they’re so shaken by the two poised at the top:

“Marriage License.”

divider by @/saradika-graphics

[xcziel]

.

[pretzel-box]

Tags: Comedy, Some Fluff, Streamer AU, GN!reader x Human! Sebastian

Words: 1,9k

"Pressured_Solace has started a stream. Click here to watch."

The blue notification button caught your eye as it popped up on your desktop, the usual alert signaling that your favorite streamer was live. A thumbnail of the game he was about to play accompanied the message, and without hesitation, you clicked to join the stream.

“Jellycatfished joined the stream!”

“Is that the real one??”

“Bet it's another faker looking for donations.”

A grin spread across your face as you slid your headphones over your ears, adjusting them for comfort as you leaned back in your gaming chair. Solace hadn’t noticed your arrival yet, too focused on setting up the stream and chatting casually with the early viewers. Hearing his deep, familiar voice through your headphones sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, filling you with a warm, giddy excitement. Pressured_Solace was your absolute favorite streamer—witty, thoughtful, and with a voice that could melt butter. Like you, he streamed without a face cam, leaving his appearance up to the imagination of his audience, which only added to his charm.

“I think… yeah, I’m all set. Everything’s good,” he mumbled into his microphone. You could hear the sounds of items shuffling around and the clatter of coffee mugs on a wooden desk in the background. Then he leaned closer to the mic, his voice dropping to a playful tone. “Test, test, 1-2, 1-2. Can everybody hear me?”

The chat lit up with eager replies—greetings, questions, and a flood of emotes scrolling by at high speed. The sound of his chuckle was like music to your ears as he tried to keep up with the barrage of messages. You could feel his excitement; it was the same rush of emotions and adrenaline that coursed through your body when you streamed.

“Alright, just a heads-up,” he continued, his tone teasing. “I got a new microphone, and I haven’t fine-tuned all the settings yet. So if you hear anything other than my voice… well, that’s just proof I’m not a robot.”

His joke made you laugh out loud, and without a second thought, you hit the like button to show your support. This was classic Solace, always with that sassy vibe and the funny comments right up his sleeve.

You moved your cursor again, hovering over the donation button as you carefully selected the amount, leaning forward with excitement as you typed a message to accompany it. Money wasn’t an issue for you—you had sponsorships, collaborations, and a well-paying side job as a secretary at a company called Urbanshade. So you took the liberty of spoiling yourself a little by supporting your beloved streamer.

“Jellycatfished has donated $1000. ‘You're telling me you are not an AI that will take over the world, Solace??’”

The automatic voice read out your donation, and Solace burst into laughter, probably shaking his head in amusement. “Welcome back, beloved Jelly. How many times do I have to tell you not to donate so much, silly?” His words were playful, but there was a certain softness in his tone, a hint of affection that made your heart flutter. Knowing that your favorite streamer had noticed you always brought a smile to your face. “But seriously, thank you, Jelly, for the donation,” he said warmly. “I appreciate your support—although I’m starting to think you’re secretly trying to buy my loyalty.”

You laughed, quickly typing back into the chat, “Maybe I am! How else would I get the attention of the coolest streamer online?” A quick moment of embarrassment filled you as you suddenly regretted your message, was it too cringe? Too much?

Solace chuckled again into the microphone, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice as he replied, “You don’t need to buy my attention, Jelly. You’ve always had it.”

The chat exploded with a flurry of reactions, hearts, and playful comments. You could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, even though you knew he couldn’t see you. This was the magic of streaming—the hidden identities, the mystery, the fun banter. It was your little escape from reality, and you loved every second of it.

Just then, a notification popped up on the screen.

“Pressured_Solace has invited Jellycatfished to a private match!”

It was an invitation to a combat pvp game that grew popular in the past few days, blowing up on social media. It became one of your favorite things to stream, and Solace knew that.

Your heart skipped a beat as you glimpsed at the sudden invitation. A private match? With him? You quickly accepted the invitation, feeling a rush of adrenaline and excitement. As the game loaded, Solace spoke again, his voice filled with that familiar teasing tone. “Alright, Jelly, let’s see if you’re as good in-game as you are at throwing money around.”

You laughed, feeling a surge of competitive spirit. It wasn’t the first time you played with him and surely not the last. “Bring it on, Solace. I’ve been practicing.” This was the last message you typed before the loading screen disappeared.

The game started, and the playful banter between the two of you continued over the ingame voice chat, filled with laughter, friendly taunts, and unexpected plot twists. The chat was loving it, spamming comments like “OMG, this is the collab we didn’t know we needed!” and “Ship them already!”

As the game loaded into the next round of the PvP arena, the tension between you and Pressured_Solace crackled like electricity. The map was a sprawling labyrinth of narrow corridors and open spaces, perfect for ambushes and quick escapes. You took a deep breath, fingers flexing over the keyboard, ready to bring your A-game. The chat, that was open on your second screen, was buzzing with excitement, filled with a mixture of support and playful taunts.

"Let’s go, Jelly! Show Solace who's boss!"

“Team Jellycatfished for the win!"

“Pressured_Solace may be good, but Jelly's got that magic touch!”

You couldn’t help but smile at the encouragement flooding in. The support from your fans always gave you that extra boost of confidence, especially when it came to facing off against someone as skilled as Solace. You knew he was good—really good. But you weren’t about to let that intimidate you.

“Alright, Jelly,” Solace’s voice came through your headphones, smooth and teasing. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

“Oh, I plan to do more than keep up,” you shot back, your voice light and playful. “I’m coming for you, Solace. How about a bet?”

“A bet?” He chuckles. “Sure.”

You started to smirk as an idea came to your mind. “If I win, I get to wish something from you.” It took a moment for Solace to reply, he was definitely teasing you by pretending to think. “Fine, but if I win, you're the one that has to fulfill a wish.”

“Deal.”

The match began, and you immediately took off, sprinting down a side corridor to grab some resources. You knew the map well enough to anticipate the power-ups and health packs that would spawn in certain locations. If you could get to them first, you might stand a chance.

But Solace was a step ahead. As you rounded a corner, you were met with a hail of bullets, forcing you to duck behind a crate. You could hear Solace chuckling through the mic.

“Nice try, Jelly, but you’re gonna have to be faster than that,” he taunted, his confidence evident.

Your heart raced as you peeked out from behind the crate, firing off a few rounds in his direction. He dodged easily, taking cover behind a wall. The chat was going wild, cheering you on, urging you to give it your all.

“Come on, Jelly! You got this!”

“Don’t let him intimidate you!”

“Use the power of the Jellycatfished!”

You grinned, feeling the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You quickly reloaded and made a break for it, dashing toward the nearest cover. You had to stay on the move—staying in one place too long would make you an easy target. Solace’s aim was deadly accurate, and you needed to keep him guessing.

But every time you thought you had a plan, he was already two steps ahead. He moved through the map like he was born there, seamlessly transitioning from offense to defense. You managed to get a few hits in, but he was quick to recover, always staying just out of reach.

“Having fun yet, Jelly?” he asked, his tone light but focused.

“More fun than you can handle,” you retorted, launching a surprise attack from above, dropping down from a higher platform. Your ambush caught him off guard, and you managed to land a few solid hits before he rolled away, retaliating with a well-placed grenade that forced you back.

The chat erupted with excitement.

“YES! Go, Jelly, go!”

“That was epic!”

“Don’t let up, Jellycatfished!”

Despite the cheers, you could feel the pressure mounting. Solace was clearly better, his skill evident in every move he made. He was precise, calm, and knew exactly how to control the flow of the game. You, on the other hand, were running on adrenaline and instinct, trying to keep up with his calculated strategies.

And then he made his move. In a swift, decisive maneuver, he cornered you in a dead-end alley, cutting off your escape routes. You fired desperately, but his shots were faster, more accurate. Before you knew it, your health bar was dwindling down to nothing.

“Looks like this is the end, Jelly,” Solace said with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Any last words?”

You grinned, a surge of determination flooding through you. “Yeah… don’t underestimate me.”

With a final burst of energy, you lunged forward, launching one last, desperate attack. It was reckless, but you had nothing to lose. You managed to land a few more hits before Solace finished you off with a well-placed headshot.

“Defeated! Pressured_Solace wins the match!”

The screen flashed the results, and the chat exploded with a mix of cheers and playful groans.

“GG, Jelly! You put up a good fight!”

“Solace is just too good!”

“Rematch! Rematch!”

“That was intense!”

Breathless, you leaned back in your chair, a smile tugging at your lips. “Not bad, Solace. Not bad at all.”

“Not bad? I’d say that was a pretty solid victory,” he replied, his tone teasing. “But you did put up a good fight, Jelly. I’m impressed.”

You laughed, feeling a warm flush of pride despite the loss. “I’ll get you next time, Solace. Mark my words.”

“I’m counting on it,” he said with a grin you could practically hear through the screen. “I always enjoy a challenge from you.”

The chat continued to buzz with excitement, fans from both sides celebrating the epic showdown. Even though you didn’t win, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. You may have lost the match, but you had fun, and more importantly, you had earned Solace’s respect. And that, in itself, felt like a win.

As the stream continued, you and Solace bantered back and forth, the playful rivalry only fueling the chat's excitement. It was moments like these that reminded you why you loved streaming so much—the thrill of the game, the support of the community, and the chance to connect with someone like Pressured_Solace, even if you didn’t know him outside of this virtual world.

But there was always tomorrow, and another game to be played. And who knows? Maybe next time, the outcome would be different.

A message plopped up at last, Solace texted you privately over the streaming platform.

“Alright Jellykitten.” He obviously joked by giving you such a silly nickname. “Time for my wish, prepare for your doom!”

“What is it, Solace?”

“Share your discord tag with me.”

[justwhisperingfantasies]

Pairing Fem.Reader-x-Ben (Soldier Boy)

A little bit of story, A whole lot of smut

Warnings Smut, Language, Drinking, Dom[ish] Ben, Light BDSM[ish], Reader being bitchy, Ben being an ass, Smidge of violence, Oral Both Receiving, P-I-V, Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it) Rough Sex, Light Choking, Biting, Cuming inside.

Please do not copy my work

Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback. always highly appreciated.

“So, are you gonna suck his dick or just think about it sweetheart?” Ben asked arrogantly from the backseat of your beat-up SUV.

“Oh, Benny boy. You don’t need to concern yourself with whose dick I put in my mouth.” You matched his tone.

“Just need to know if I have to get my own room tonight.” He took a long drag off his cigarette. “And maybe another pussy to please.”

“Good luck with that.” You challenged raising your brows “Butcher looks like he can give a pretty mean dick.”

He leaned up to your ear, His hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “I bet he can’t make you cum like I can.” He whispered, firing up your core. You inhaled deeply, striving to regain your composure.

He quickly leaned back in his seat as Butcher opened the passenger door. He sat down and looked at you. “You alright over there, love?” Billy asked lighting up a cigarette

“Never better.” You told him as you pulled out of the gas station. As the journey went on, a strange silence filled the air between you. You tried to steal a glance at him in the rearview mirror. He gave you a cheeky wink when he caught you which only added to the tension. You pushed the accelerator down.

“We in a hurry?” Butcher asked as the engine roared.

“Just trying to get there.”  You could feel Ben’s eyes in the mirror, you kept yours on the road.

The silence was driving you crazy. You had never been so happy to see a shitty motel. You parked the car and hopped out. “I’ll get the rooms.” You told them, shutting the door behind you.

Coming back to the car you handed Butcher their room key and took your bag out of Ben’s hand. “I can get it, thanks though.” You heard him huff, but you didn’t turn back.

“You’re on a different floor?” you heard Billy ask as you started up the external staircase.

You shrugged. “That’s all they had left.” He gestured to the parking lot. All the spaces were empty except for the one occupied by your car. “Take it up with them, not me.” you continued to your room. You just wanted a break from him, and his stupid snide comments, his absurd cocky attitude, his smartass tongue, that knew precisely how to work your clit to send waves of ecstasy through you, his stupid soft hair that always tickled as he did it. Fucking stop you thought, shaking him out of your head.

You walked out of the steamy bathroom, almost jumping out of your towel when you found him sitting on your bed. “What the fuck Ben?”

“You didn’t answer your door.”

“That doesn’t mean fucking break in,”

“You could have been dead.”

“Ok I’m not. So, fix the door on your way out.” You gave him a fake smile.

“Would you like me to send Butcher up here while I’m at it?”

“No need I won’t be here.” You smirked at him

“And where the fuck do you think you’re going?” you shrugged. “Out.”

“You do know Homelander is looking for you right?”

“So sweet of you to care, but I doubt he’s checking middle of nowhere towns.”

He rolled his eyes and walked out, slamming the door behind. “Dick!” you yelled after him You heard the echoes of his laughs bounce back through the still broken door.

Billy and Ben followed closely behind you as you crossed the street. “Is this really necessary?”

“Yep.” Ben said, quickening his step to walk beside you. “Is that slutty low-cut top really necessary?”

“Yep.”  You repeated his words, the corners of his mouth twitched up just for a second.

For a small town the bar was lively. Mostly ranch hands, and high-school kids buying booze with their fake ids. You walked up to the bar and ordered 3 shots of whiskey. The bar tender took your money and sat the filled shot glasses on the bar. You slapped Ben’s hand away when he reached for one. “Order your own.”

“And here I thought you were being nice for a change.”

You laughed. “You should better than that.” You knocked back the shots one after another. You got the bartender’s attention and ordered 2 more. He filled the glasses as you handed him more cash. Ben’s eyebrows raised as you slid one of the shots in his direction. You held your glass up and he tapped it with his. You took the shot and turned around, leaning back on the bar.

“So should I start looking?” His voice haughty

“She’s cute.” You pointed to a blonde bimbo with her tits hanging out. “And she looks easy.”

He smirked. “Maybe.”

“Oh, look she has a friend.” You said with fake cheer as her friend sat beside her. “Make you could get a two for one special.” You turned back to the bar rolling your eyes. You got the bartender’s attention and ordered another. Ben tapped his shot glass and paid for both. “Thanks.”

He took his. “You know you’re cute when you’re jealous. Sweetheart.”

“I’m not jealous. Just trying my good friend Ben a find a pussy to please.” you retorted. You took your shot and made your way to the dance floor.

You could sense Ben's gaze piercing through the crowd as you moved your hips to the rhythm of the music. Stopping in the middle of the crowd, you turned around and locked eyes with him as you sensuously rolled your body. His eyebrows arched with intrigue. A charming, muscular guy wearing a cowboy hat made his way toward you.

The cowboy eyed you up and down. “You lookin’ for a partner little missy?”

You looked over at Ben. His lips pressed in a hard line now. You smirked at him. You looked back at the cowboy. “Sure. Why not.”

The cowboy spun you around and pulled your body back to him. You rolled your hips grinding your ass against his groin. You leaned completely back on him as he rolled with your body, raising your arm you wrapped around his neck. You glanced over at Ben. He was on the edge of the dance floor now, a scowl on his face. You puckered lips out and pushed them out toward him.

His nostrils flared as the cowboy ran his fingers up and down your midsection pulling you closer. The cowboy leaned his face to your neck. Trailing kisses to your shoulder.

The cowboy spun you around again, so you were face to face. The cowboy rolled his hips, making his bulge grind on your core. He pressed his lips against yours.

You felt a hand wrap around your wrist. “That’s enough. Let’s go!” Ben demanded as he pulled on your arm, careful not to hurt you. What the hell has gotten into him. Ben never got jealous. Well, I guess you never really tried to make him jealous before.

 You twisted your hand and pulled out of his grip. The cowboy got in his face. “Hey asshole. She’s with me now.”

Ben chuckled. He looked past the cowboy. “You’re with him now?”

“That’s what I said.” He bumped Ben chest with his own.

Ben put his finger up. “Don’t” he warned.

“I ain’t scared of you motherfucker.” The cowboy bumped into his chest again

“I said.” The cowboy cut him off with a shove. You could see the glow through Ben’s shirt. Fuck.

You pushed the cowboy out of your way. “Ben.” He stayed silent glaring at the cowboy as the glow got a little brighter. You cupped his face with your hands and angled his face down. His eyes stayed on the cowboy. You stretched on to your toes, “Ben.” still nothing. The glowing got brighter. You crashed your lips on his. Praying that this would stop the nuclear bomb from going off. As he started to kiss you back, he wrapped his arms around your waist. Pulling you into him. Your hands slid around his neck.

He groaned into your mouth as you shoved your tongue through his lips. His hands found your ass and squeezed hard. You can feel the temperature of his chest cooling.

“You good?” you asked.

“Yea.” He softly replied.

“You wanna leave?” He nodded, releasing his embrace.  He spun around and grabbed your hand as he started toward the door.

“Yea that’s right bitch! Walk away.” The cowboy yelled.

Ben stopped. You pulled on his arm. “Ben, come on.” He took a deep breath, “Please.” His expression softened at your plead, and he continued walking.

As soon as he passed the threshold, he pulled you back against him. Your pulse quickened as his hand slid up your neck and shoved your face to meet his gaze. His hand wrapped around your neck as his hungry lips captured yours, making your core ignite with excitement. His other hand made its way up your shirt, sliding under your bra he started kneading your breast vigorously, making you moan into his mouth. His fingers moved to the hem of your shirt, you raised your arms as he pulled it over your head. His lips were back on yours as he unclasped your bra. Your nipples hardened as the cool air hit them. You felt the smile on his lips and next thing you knew you were face down on the bed.  

“Bet you thought you were real fucking funny back there huh?” He snarled, you heard the screeching as he moved the desk chair. “Shaking that ass on him like that.” And then a small bang as he pushed it against the door. “I don’t even know why you would waste your time.”

You felt the bed shift as he knelt behind you, a sting on your ass as he slapped it. Grabbing your hips he brought you up on your hands and knees. “You know, No one can make you feel as good as I can.” A small gasp left your lips as he crashed his groin against you. His hand clasped over your shoulder and started thrusting against you, his hardened shaft smacking into your center making it thrum with desire. He pulled on your shoulder bringing you back against him, he unbuttoned your jeans and then slid his fingers under your panties groaning when he felt how wet you were for him. you moaned as he started a circular motion around your clit. “No one can make you as wet as I can.” He whispered.

You felt a low rumble against your back as he pushed two fingers inside of you. You sighed with pleasure as he began to rhythmically slide them.  As the pace of his fingers intensifies, so too does the rhythm of your breath. He curled his fingers hitting that sweet spot delivering waves of bliss through your body. Your walls start to tighten on his fingers as you start to reach your peak. He withdraws his hand. “Not yet sweetheart.”  

He turned you to face him, keeping you on your knees. With a kiss he grasped the back of your thighs and pulled them out from under you. you gasped as your back bounced on the mattress. His hands grabbed the waist of your jeans and your panties, you lifted, he threw them across the room. He nudged your knees open, shivers rand up your spine as the cool air hit your center. He stroked his fingers up and down your folds, you let out a moan as he shoved his fingers in you again.

He lowered himself, his mouth hovering over your inner thigh, a whisper of warmth against your skin. You rolled your hips, feeling the sharpness of his teeth as they skimmed your skin. “No one.”  His beard left a trail of goosebumps as he inched closer to your core. “Can.”  He stopped, and you felt the graze of his teeth once more. “Eat.”  He bit the skin right next to your lips causing your walls to clench around his fingers.

“This pussy.” He pulled his hand back, leaving his fingertips inside, adding a third he slowly slid them back in, as deep as they would go. As you moaned fuck, a deep a growl slipped from his mouth.

He flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue, drawing a moan of his name from your lips. You glanced down at him. His lips twisted in a mischievous smirk, his eyes sparkling as they gaze into yours. "Like I can," he teased, his attention returned to your core as he inhaled deeply taking in your sweet aroma. Then he dove in, he moaned as he tasted your sweet juices. He sucked your clit into his mouth, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. A breathy moan of his name escaped your lips as his teeth grazed it, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.  as he worked his tongue on your clit as he pumped his fingers. “You wanna cum?”

“Yes” you moaned.

 He chuckled as you became puddy in his hands. “Tell me.” his tongue flicked your clit again.

“Ben please.” You moaned

“Come on sweetheart you can do better than that.” Another flick.

“Please, Ben. I wan, want you to make me cum.”

He gave you a wicked smile and then his tongue went back to work. Sloppily lapping at your clit. He curled his fingers upward hitting that sweet spot again as he continued to with his tongue. His fingers slid faster and faster, pushing you closer and closer. Your fingers clenched his hair as the coil got tighter and tighter, “B, Ben don’t stop.” Your moans filled the room, getting louder as the coil was about to burst. Your walls pulsed around his fingers as your orgasm surged through your body. His fingers slowed, helping you ride it out.

He rose to his feet and pulled his shirt over his head. He motioned you over with a single finger as he unbuttoned his pants.  As he pointed toward the floor in front of him you recognized his requests and eagerly complied. “You gonna let me fuck that pretty little mouth of yours?” He asked as you knelt in front of him. You nodded, looking up at him. Your hands slid up his thighs, he lifted his head and moaned softly as you caressed his hard shaft through his jeans. You unzipped his pants and pulled them down. Unleashing his thick, throbbing cock.

He let out a low moan as you gradually took him into your mouth. His hand twists into your hair, revealing his impatience. You pulled your head back when he started to thrust forward, teasing him. A growl escaped his lips, and his grip on your hair tightened. He starts to move his hips again, this time you stay in place. Tears welled in your eyes as you fought your gag reflex once he reached your throat. Another moan escaped his throat as he started sliding his cock in and out of your mouth. “Fuck.” He moaned as you tighten your mouth around him. He groaned in between pants as he sped up the pace. Grabbing your hair with both hands he bucks one last time and you feel his warm cum ooze down your throat. His body shivered as you bobbed your head one more time, savoring every last drop.

He effortlessly lifted you and tossed you onto the bed. The instant your back hit the mattress, he was on top of you, his lips hungry for yours again. He positioned himself at your entrance and thrust deep without warning. Giving your body no time to adapt to his size he withdrew his cock and slammed it back inside you, the room filled with your loud moans as pleasure and pain collided within you. Leaning down, he whispered in your ear, “No one can fill this pussy like I can,” You let out a soft moan of his name as he starts pumping in and out of you, each movement sending shivers of delight throughout your body. He rose to his knees, a moan leaving him as he pushed deeper inside of you.

You could feel the tension building in your stomach again as his rigid cock filled you, hitting your g-spot as he pumped in and out of you. You praised him with a moan of his name as your walls clenched around him. “You gonna cum for me again baby?” You replied with a moan of his name. His muscles flexed as he pounded harder. His green eyes gazed into yours and the coil busted. Waves of ecstasy coursed through your body once more. With one loud groan and a deep plunge into your pulsating walls Ben found his release. He collapsed on top of you as heavy pants echoed through the room. His hair tickled your chest as it moved with your breath.

His head rose once he caught his breath, resting his chin on your chest. You noticed the green in his eyes was brighter than normal as they locked on yours. "No one.. will ever love you like i do."

Tag List - if you would like to be added [click here]

@idk6505

@jackles010378

@nightxcreature

@kamisobsessed

@wonderland2022

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@lmg14

[storiesforallfandoms]

an out there request ~ matthew lillard & skeet ulrich

word count: 4740

request?: yes!

“hi hi hiiiiii, i wanted to start this off with saying am in love with you. like your writing? perfection. the fact you do this for all of us? so gorgeous. this one is weird? kinda, maybe. skeet ulrich x matthew lillard x reader, current time. you go to that convention where you talk and meet them, and you got the thing where you can go back and get a picture with them. you ask them (as respectfully as possible lol) if the pose you guys can do is eiffel tower (your head in one of their crotches and your ass in the others crotch). they’re like shocked and stuff (idk why but i see the reader pulling out their id and being like trust me, i’m of age). banter and them agreeing to it, then when you leave you notice something in your pocket, like a note or something saying one of their room number and smut ensues. thank you”

description: after she makes a lucrative pose suggestion for a picture, she doesn’t expect for that pose to become a reality

pairing: matthew lillard x female!reader x skeet ulrich

warnings: rpf, swearing, smut (threesome, fingering, oral f & m receiving, praise, p in v (protected), multiple orgasms)

masterlist (one, two, three)

I grinded my teeth as the person ahead of me went in for their photo ops. I should’ve been excited. I was meeting two of my heroes. I had spent so much money on the passes, on the hotel and travel. I had waited ages for this day. I should’ve been beyond excited for this moment.

Except I had to ruin it with a stupid bet with my friends that would decide what pose I did for the picture.

A bet which I then lost.

I looked over to where they were waiting for me. They were snickering to themselves. I wanted to glare at them, but my nerves and mortification were the only emotions I could muster.

“Next.”

They waved at me, still giggling to themselves, as I walked in.

My other emotions were immediately replaced with shock when I saw Skeet and Matthew. It was almost like I was only just realizing they were real people. They were laughing when I walked in, and it really did sound like the most beautiful sound. When they saw me, they smiled and I could’ve melted into a puddle right there.

“Hey!” Matthew said first, opening his arms to hug me. I happily walked into his welcoming embrace and immediately thought, He’s just as good of a hugger as the videos make him seem.

Skeet greeted me with a hug as well. I hoped they couldn’t feel how much I was shaking, but I realized they had probably seen that multiple times already.

“Nice to meet you,” Matthew said after I pulled away from Skeet’s hug.

“I feel like I’m dreaming,” I admitted. “You guys have probably been hearing that all day.”

“Doesn’t make it any less meaningful to hear,” Skeet said.

 “Let’s pose, guys, we have a line up,” the photographer said. He sounded bored, like he was tired of having this same scene play out over and over all day.

The mention of the photo made my body tense as I remembered what pose I was meant to do. I felt my mouth dry up as I was meant to explain to my two idols what I wanted to do for our pose. They were probably going to kick me out without taking the photo. I’d probably be banned from all celebrity meet and greets for life (even though that made no sense).

They were both looking at me. I had to swallow my fear quickly and just get through this.

“Okay, so...here’s the thing.” I took a deep breath and said, “Ineedtodotheeiffeltowerpose.”

Both smiles turned to confusion.

Just say it, get it over with.

“I made a stupid bet with my friends, and I lost, so they made the decision on what pose for me to do here.” I had to force the words out, “Eiffel Tower.”

Matthew and Skeet looked at each other. My heart had started to pound so hard that my vision was blurring. I quickly fumbled for my wallet and pulled out my ID. “I’m over 18, I swear. It’s just from a bet. I tried to say no, but my friends wouldn’t let me off the hook. They said they need to see the proof too...”

I trailed off as I realized I was rambling. My face was on fire with embarrassment. I just wanted to disappear, or cease to exist. I’d never forgive my friends for ruining something so important for me. My first time meeting two people who were so important to me, and they were going to think I was a sex pest or something.

“Okay.”

I blinked. “What?”

Skeet shrugged. “A bet is a bet. I’m fine with it. How about you, Matt?”

Matthew nodded. “Let’s do it. It’ll be the most creative pose I think we’ve ever done.”

I couldn’t believe they agreed. I thought it was some kind of joke. It wasn’t until they moved to either side of me, and Skeet asked, “Which of us is where?” that I realized they were seriously doing this; I was seriously doing this.

I turned to face Matthew, with Skeet behind me. Matthew held my arms as I leaned forward, not enough for my head to fully be in his crotch but enough for the sake of the pose. Skeet put his hands on my hips, keeping a respectable distance from me as well.

“Smile,” the camera guy said.

I smiled through the burning feeling of embarrassment in my face. At the same time, I couldn’t lie and say this wasn’t a turn on. I had definitely read Stu and Billy fanfiction that included this pose, so my mind was wandering to dangerous places.

The camera flashed a few times, and then it was over. I pulled away from them very quickly, trying not to be as awkward as I felt. Matthew and Skeet hugged me again, and I thanked them for going on with my crazy request.

My friends were waiting with smirks on their faces as I walked through the exit.

“How’d it go?” one asked. “Did you do it?”

“I did,” I responded, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “I think I have to wait for the physical copies, but I can prove I did it.”

We went to the part of the photo op where the pictures are done off. My friends asked me about the experience and I relayed the entire moment to them. I thought they’d be skeptical of what I was saying, but they hung on every word I said and were just as excited as I had been during the interaction. One of them made a joke that I must’ve made Skeet hard by “shoving my ass in his crotch”, but I told her that was inappropriate and there was no way it had happened.

The photo person called my name and passed me an envelope. I pulled out the print of my photos and my friends flocked to see it. They gasped and giggled as if we were teenagers still. I couldn’t help but blush at the picture, though. I originally thought this was going to ruin my one chance at meeting my idols, but in the end it seemed like it was going to be a funny story. I may actually even frame the photo for the memory.

My friends started walking towards a booth they had wanted to visit. I trailed behind them, putting the photos back into the envelope. That’s when I felt something on the back. When I flipped the picture over, I found a Post-It note. The note read, “If you feel comfortable, meet us in our hotel room tonight”, along with an address.

My face was burning again. There was no way this was real. This could not be the actual address for the actual hotel where actual Matthew Lillard and Skeet Ulrich were staying. There was also no way that actual Matthew Lillard and Skeet Ulrich were suggesting what I think they were suggesting.

I put the picture back in the envelope and pocketed the note as I went to catch up with my friends. I could feel the weight of it in my pocket, but I kept trying to forget about it. It couldn’t be real, and if I went to the hotel I’d probably find some weirdo instead of the two men I’d expect - or hope. It’d be a bad idea to go to that address.

~~~~~~

Well, the address was a hotel at least.

I knew I was crazy for showing up here. Anything could happen to me. Anything bad. I hadn’t told my friends about the note because I knew what their responses would be, so they didn’t know I was here. It was a stupid decision all around, but the curiosity was getting the better of me.

My heart was pounding as I took the elevator up to the floor I was directed to go to. It was making my vision blurry to a point where I almost couldn’t read the numbers on the doors. I was having deja vu to meeting Skeet and Matthew earlier. I lifted my hand to knock and paused only briefly to question whether or not this was a good idea. I knew the answer was no, but there was no going back now.

When the hotel door opened, I almost passed out.

Stood there was none other than Skeet Ulrich.

He was grinning at me in a sexy way. “We were wondering if you were actually going to come.”

“Well, you can’t blame a girl for being cautious.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I figured. I told Matt the note was a little ominous, but we couldn’t exactly say anything in front of the camera guy. That’s not something we want to get out to the public.”

That just raised more questions, but I didn’t want to take up too much time just talking in the hallway. Skeet stepped aside to let me in. I was very aware of how close he was as I passed him, but I tried not to think too much about it.

I was expected a huge hotel suite since they were two big actors and all, but was pleasantly surprised to see that it was just a two bedroom, one bathroom hotel room with a small balcony. Matthew was laid back on one of the beds, watching TV. He looked up when he heard me walk in and smiled as if he was seeing an old friend. “Hey! You’re finally here!”

The reality of the situation was setting in. I was starting to feel a little lightheaded. They both must’ve noticed, or they knew how overwhelming this was going to be in general, because Skeet took my hand and guided me to the bed Matthew was sat on. Matthew sat up to put a comforting hand between my shoulder blades.

“This is a lot, we know,” he said. “You can ask whatever questions you need to ask.”

“Do I have to sign an NDA?”

I cringed at myself while Matthew and Skeet seemed amused. It definitely was not my biggest question, but it was the first one that slipped out through my filter.

“We didn’t tell either of our agents that we were doing this,” Skeet said. “So no NDAs are drafted. Is that a bad idea? Very much so, yes. But I also know our agents definitely would not want us to be doing this in general, so they’d probably try to talk us out of it instead of writing up any sort of NDA.”

“So...you’ve never done this before?”

“Not with a fan,” Skeet responded. “We have had threesomes before, but usually with girlfriends.”

“One time with a co-star,” Matthew added. “Not as awkward as most people make sleeping with a co-worker seem.”

Part of me wanted to ask which co-star, but that really wasn’t the most important thing right now. The most important question to me was, “Why me?”

The two of them shared a look. I couldn’t read what their expressions were saying, but there was definitely some shared thought process passing between them.

“Like I said, we’ve never done this with a fan before,” Skeet started. “Obviously there’s all sorts of power imbalance issues with that, and we don’t want anyone to think we’re using our star status to have sex. Because we’re not, and we don’t want that.”

“But there was something about you that made us go against that,” Matthew added.

I felt my face heating up again as I asked, “Was it the pose?”

Both men barked a laugh at the same time. I couldn’t help but smile as well. Despite the nervousness I was feeling, they were making me feel somewhat calm as well. Outside of the cameras and the long line of fans and the convention photo op, they felt like real people. Just two guys who were friends, who were asking a girl they just met for a threesome.

Okay, the nerves were back now.

“The pose definitely helped,” Matthew said. “But you are also very attractive, and you were very kind. It was hard not to think about making this proposition after you had left.”

This is a dream. I’m dreaming. I actually fainted before the photo op and now I’m dreaming.

Skeet sat down on the bed next to me. “This is all your choice. Please do not say yes just because we’re famous. If you’re uncomfortable at all, we’ll let you go. Trust us, we get that this is probably a lot to handle. Like I said, we’re not about to use our celebrity status just to get sex if you don’t want it.”

I could tell they were being sincere. I actually did have an out if I wanted one. And that was definitely comforting because I was still feeling very conflicted. None of this felt real, and I was almost inclined to turn it down just due to that fact.

But also, I had been crushing on these two actors since the first time I watched the original Scream. I had read so much fanfiction about their characters, stuff that involved situations like this. I’d been fawning over them for years. How stupid would I be if I let this opportunity pass by, even if I wasn’t able to tell anyone? Hell, I probably wouldn’t tell anyone anyways. This would be my little secret; something just for me.

Finally, I found my voice to tell them, “I want to.”

Skeet and Matthew shared a look. They had similar smirks on their faces, and I couldn’t help but wonder what I had gotten myself into.

“If you want to stop at any point you have to tell us,” Skeet said to me. “Promise us that.”

I nodded, but Skeet shook his head. “No, we have to hear you say it.”

“I-I promise I’ll tell you i-if I want to stop.”

Matthew’s voice was closer to my ear than I anticipated as he said, “Good girl.”

The combination of his words and his hot breath against my skin caused my to clench my thighs together. A whimper slipped from my lips as I felt him start to kiss against my neck. I lulled my head to the side, giving him full access to whatever he wanted, and closed my eyes to let myself get lost in the pleasure.

It didn’t take very long for me to forget the entire situation at hand. A fog of lust had washed over me enough to finally let my nerves subside. So, I wasn’t thinking much about who owned the set of hands that was unbuttoning my jeans, but rather how much I wanted them off and to feel those hands against me.

Someone - I’m assuming Skeet as I could feel Matthew’s hands against my waist - pulled my pants down my legs. Once they were gone, Matthew wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into his lap. I gasped as I felt the already hard bulge in his pants against my back. He continued to kiss over my neck as one of his hands slipped under my shirt, teasing the underside of my bra, while the other made its way between my legs. My head lulled back against Matthew’s shoulder as his fingers lightly skimmed over my already damp panties.

“Already so wet,” he commented. “Just for us?”

“J-Just for you,” I moaned. I’d probably be embarrassed by how needy I was if I wasn’t so turned on.

His fingers traced over the waistband of my panties before he slipped his hand underneath them. He rubbed agonizingly slow circles on my clit while his lips still went to work on my neck. He sucked and nipped at the sensitive skin, undoubtably leaving marks I wouldn’t be able to explain. I arched my back, pushing myself further into him and his fingers further against me.

Matthew chuckled. “I think she’s eager.”

“Should give her what she wants, Matt,” Skeet said. I had almost forgotten he was there.

“Is that what you want, pretty girl?” Matthew asked me. “Do you want my fingers?”

“Yes,” I breathed. “Y-Yes, please.”

“How do I say no when you’re using your manners?”

He started with just one finger, slowly pushing into me. I let out a loud moan, but quickly covered my mouth with my hand as I remembered where we were.

Skeet chuckled this time, before saying, “Be as loud as you want. There’s no one else around us. We’ll give the staff a good tip just in case there’s any noise complaints, though.”

They didn’t really give me much choice on my volume, as Matthew added another finger after stretching me out with the first, and started thrusting them in and out of me at a quick pace. The sinful sounds of squishing mixed with whatever was tumbling out of my mouth filled the room. The heel of Matthew’s hand worked against my clit, edging me closer and closer to the edge.

I opened my eyes just for a moment, and saw that Skeet was now stood in front of us. He was watching Matthew make me come undone, and I noticed he had one hand against his crotch, palming himself through his jeans. I had never thought much about threesomes before, mainly because I hadn’t ever felt confident enough to bring a third person in to the bedroom in any of my relationships. But there was something extremely hot about watching Skeet get turned on by watching Matthew and I. It turned me on more to realize I’d be getting my time with him too.

My first orgasm hit me with little warning. One second I felt it creeping up, and the next the wave of pleasure was crashing down on me. My body trembled as I leaned against Matthew for support. He slowed his fingers, letting me ride through my high. When he slipped them out of me, I whimpered from the loss of contact.

I lazily turned my head to watch Matthew bring his fingers to his lips. He slipped them into his mouth, sucking off my remaining juices.

“She tastes so good, Skeet,” he said. “You should taste her.”

I thought for a second that Skeet was going to put Matthew’s fingers in his mouth, which would’ve been extremely hot. Instead, he got to his knees on the foot of the bed where Matthew and I were sitting. Matthew let me go so that Skeet could pull me to the edge of the bed. He pulled my soaked panties off and discarded them somewhere in the room. I could feel his warm breath against my still sensitive core, sending a shiver through my body. He leaned in and licked a long, slow stripe from my hole to my clit. My body jolted at the contact, still recovering from my first orgasm.

“She does taste good,” Skeet said.

I felt Matthew’s hands on the hem of my shirt. I lifted my arms over my head to let him pull it off me. With little effort, Matthew unclipped my bra as well, and it fell to my lap. I was officially completely bare to the two of them.

Matthew stood from the bed as Skeet started kissing over my thighs. First my inner right thigh, then the left, moving slowly up to my mound, to my stomach. He took his time leaving a trail of kisses up my stomach and to my breasts. He took one of my nipples in his mouth, running his tongue over the sensitive nub, while my other nipple was pinched between his fingers. I was moaning again, my body reacting by somehow becoming even wetter between my thighs. There was still a dull ache from my first orgasm, but it was quickly going away.

I heard the rustling of clothes and opened my eyes to see Matthew undressing himself. He was unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it on the floor, and his hands had just moved to discard his own pants when he caught me looking. A sly smirk crossed his face as he winked at me. At the same time, Skeet nipped at the skin of my breast, making me yelp.

When Matthew was left in nothing but his boxers, he said, “Seems you’re the only one left completely dressed, man.”

Skeet pulled away from me. He took a moment to look over my completely naked form before looking at Matthew. “Sorry, I was enjoying myself too much.”

As Skeet started undressing himself, Matthew extended a hand to me. “Are you able to move? Or should we just take you like that?”

“How do you want me?” I asked. I was surprised with how steady and strong my voice sounded given how the two of them had somehow already managed to ruin me.

“The Eiffel Tower seems fitting.”

I couldn’t help but laugh a little. I took Matthew’s hand and he helped me get up and to my knees. Skeet had stripped down, leaving him completely naked, while Matthew was still in his boxers. “Looks like you’re the last one clothed now, Matt.”

When Matthew took his boxers off, I couldn’t help but stare at him and Skeet for a while. They were definitely both packing, which was a little intimidating. Not like I hadn’t been with well endowed men before, but still.

“Should we take our positions from the photo?” Skeet asked Matthew. “You take the front, I’ll take the back?”

“Sounds good to me.” Matthew, who was already stood near my face, reached down to cup my chin. “Are you okay with that?”

I nodded. I was glad when they didn’t try and make me verbally respond again because I was sure I had officially lost my ability to speak.

Matthew held the base of his dick, pumping it slightly, as he moved closer to me. He waited until I pulled him closer and opened my mouth to take him in, not trying to rush me or shove himself down my throat. He let me take my time, filling my mouth with as much of him as I could. I placed my tongue along the underside of his cock as I slowly slid him into my mouth. He threw his head back and let out a moan. I got as far as I could go without gagging and stayed there just long enough to adjust to having his size in my mouth. One of his hands made its way into my hair, tangling the strands around his fingers, but he didn’t start moving my head. He kept me there, letting me set the pace.

I started bobbing my head up and down, slipping him most the ways out of my mouth before sliding him all the way back in. I did it at a slow, almost teasing pace. Matthew’s hand twitched against my head, like he was restraining himself from making me go at a pace that he actually wanted. I looked up at him through my eyelashes. His head was tilted down to look at me again, but his eyes were closed and his mouth was slightly ajar in pleasure.

Skeet was watching us, fisting his own dick at the sight. I had gotten so caught up in watching Matthew as I pleasured him that I didn’t notice Skeet moving to the bed until it dipped behind me. I gasped as I felt the hot head of his cock dragging through my folds. When it nudged against my entrance, just an inch pushed inside of me, I couldn’t stop myself from moving back against him and taking the rest of him in.

“Eager girl,” he said with a chuckle. “Don’t forget about Matt.”

“I don’t mind watching her be eager for your cock,” Matthew said.

I took Matthew back in my mouth as Skeet slowly started to thrust into me. I tried to keep a steady pace with my head, but I soon found myself more focused on the pleasure from Skeet’s cock dragging against my walls than the pleasure I was supposed to be giving Matthew. I was moaning around him, which in turn was making him moan. He used my hair to guide my mouth up and down his shaft so that I didn’t have to concentrate on doing it myself.

Eventually, Skeet start to thrust a bit more rough into me so that I was moving against Matthew with each thrust. Both men were moaning and grunting in time, the noises sounding like music. My brain had been completely taken over by the lustful fog and I couldn’t think about anything but the feeling of being full with both of their cocks. Matthew’s hand tightened in my hair and I felt his cock twitching in my mouth, signaling that he was getting close.

As if also sensing Matthew’s closeness, or maybe he was also getting close himself, Skeet reached around to find my clit. He started rubbing harsh, quick circles into my sensitive nub. My arms were starting to tremble from the effort of keeping myself up, while the rest of my body was trembling with pleasure. My second orgasm was coming on and I knew it was going to hit just as hard as the first one did. I was about to take Matthew’s cock out of my mouth to tell them both I was going to cum, but Skeet began to thrust rougher into me, sending me over the edge quicker than anticipated. I cried out, mostly muffled by Matthew’s dick. Skeet thrust into me one more time, shoving me forward so that Matthew was down my throat. I felt Skeet pulsing inside of me and he let out a loud groan, meaning he had came as well. Matthew was the last of us, shooting his load down my throat seconds after Skeet had cum inside of me.

Matthew pulled out first and I swallowed him down. I lowered my front half onto the bed, finally allowing my arms some rest. Skeet took a second to ride out his own high before pulling himself out of me and letting me completely collapse on the bed. I lazily turned my head to watch as he pulled something off of his dick, and then realized it had been a condom. I hadn’t even noticed him put one on, or the feeling of a condom while we were fucking, but that made sense for him to protect himself, and me.

Matthew had gone to the hotel bathroom and came back with wash cloths for all three of us. I slowly rolled onto my back and took one from him.

“I should’ve asked before finishing in your mouth,” he said. “Sorry about that.”

I waved away his comment. “Don’t worry. You wouldn’t be the first one to cum down my throat unexpectedly, although this was definitely the better of the other times it’s happened.”

Matthew chuckled. “I can only imagine. I don’t think I want to hear those horror stories.”

“You definitely don’t want to.”

After cleaning myself up, I slowly brought myself to a sitting position. I looked around the room to see if I could find my discarded clothing, but found that all of our stuff had basically been thrown around together.

“You don’t have to get up yet,” Skeet said. “You’re more than welcome to stay for a while.”

“You guys don’t wanna kick me out right away?” I asked.

Skeet shook his head. “This isn’t that kind of situation. You can stay overnight if you want to, and then you can go again in the morning.”

“I kind of want room service,” Matthew said. He had his boxers pulled back on and was looking at the room service menu. “Are you guys hungry? We could order a feast.”

I picked my shirt up off the floor and pulled it on just to have myself clothed. I sat on the bed across from Matthew and took the room service menu to look over. Skeet, also now in his boxers, sat in the bed next to me to look at the menu over my shoulder.

No one would ever believe what happened here, but that was fine by me. I was more than okay with this being my dirty little secret, with the only evidence being the hickies on my neck and the Post-It note that was still tucked away with my picture.

[choso-star]

jjk men and jobs!!

summary:

jjk men and there modern jobs!!

characters:

gojo, geto, choso, nanami, toji, megumi, yuji, ino

authors note

wow this was a lot more than i was thinking id wrote for my first time! let me know what you think!

CONTAINS! nsfw, fluff

bartender! gojo

-i just see gojo as a bartender, i have literally no clue why i just do.

-just imagine him standing behind the bar, muscles showing through his tight dress shirt, sleeves slightly pulled up🤭🤭

-thats definitely how you guys met, him standing behind the bar on your 21st birthday, your friends long gone partying and you just sitting there, looking all sweet.

“aww look at the little birthday girl layin down and takin my cock so well” all you can do to respond to the man pounding into you is clench your pussy around his cock. “to fucked dumb to say anything? its okay baby we’ll be finished soon and i can send you back to your friends” when you do end up going back to your friends, gojo is back behind the bar serving drinks and your walking out of the bar with cum dripping down your leg.

—————————————————————————

tattoo artist! geto

-i have such a love hate relationship with this man😞

-he looks like he would genuinely be so talented, and so skillful with his hands(🤭)

-his favorite tattoos to do are definitely the more intricate ones he can really put his heart into

-you probably came into his shop, no appointment and wanting your first tattoo. normally, he probably wouldnt have done it for anybody else, but you’re just to cute to refuse.

“hold still princess, it’ll only hurt for a moment” geto says, pressing the needle to your skin, a loud cry leaving your throat. normally, this wouldnt bother him but today its just different. no matter how many times he tells you to stay quiet or for you to not move, you dont listen, you cant help it after all. “y’know what if your gonna keep bitchin i’ll make you quite”

—————————————————————————

piercer! choso

-this man has my heart he could literally do anything to me

-choso is such a sweetheart, he really is, but he doesn’t necessarily look that sweet.

-with his strong build, arms covered in tattoos, several piercings, he looks a little more rugged.

-this certainly wasnt your first piercing, but it was one of your more painful ones, and based on the reviews, choso was your best and safest bet.

-you were definitely nervous but once you saw choso you almost turned around and left. but your committed, your going to get this piercing.

“just lay down on the chair and it wont take very long” you lay down, ‘to late to turn back now’ you thought. as you lay back choso takes his seat in between your legs, preparing everything to complete the piercing. his hands slightly lifted up your shirt to expose your belly button. you would be lying if it wasn’t a great sight. “so pretty, ready for your piercing?”

—————————————————————————

ceo! nanami

-i know, i know “ceo? everyone puts him as that” its just what he is😞

-he looks so good, sitting at the desk in his office, one foot crossed over the other propped on the desk, working on paper work

-your just his little secretary bringing him coffee every morning and checking up on him every so often. i guess you wouldnt want colleagues to know what you always do at your 2 o’clock meeting.

“such a good girl bent over the desk for me” he says, fingers plunging in and out of your tight cunt. “nanamin p-please give’m more” you slur out, then feeling a sharp slap across your ass, causing you to whimper. “if you dont shut up your not getting any of my cock”

—————————————————————————

plumber! toji

-oh god he can come clean my pipes whenever 😊😊 (please send help)

-definitely fucking hates his job😭 wishes he didnt have to work but knows he needs the money bad.

-you would think he would half ass shit to get it done but he’s doing everything the best he can so he never has to come back.

-and then he came to your house, or, your daddys mansion.

“m’better hurry up before your daddy gets home” toji says, holding your hips as you bounce on his cock. “t-toji your too big., m’gonna cum soon- ah” you cried out, but your sobs fell to deaf ears as toji started fucking up into you harder “c’mon baby lets make this quick, we can do more next time”

toji didn’t fix all of your houses pipes this time, looks like he’ll have to come back to finish the job.

—————————————————————————

actor! megumi

-he’s a pretty boy so ofc he’s gonna be on screen

-all the girls want him, he’s literally the josh hutcherson of his universe. constant edits being made of him, always being shipped with someone new.

-what they wouldnt expect is the one he wants isnt an actor, a producer, another celebrity of any kind, but his own personal makeup artist

“hold still megs i have to put more blush on you” you say, slightly sticking your tongue out to concentrate. megumi’s hands find there way to your hips, and pulling you down onto his lap, causing you to accidentally get to much blush on the side of his face“megumi! now im gonna have to redo your base” you whine, but megumi doesn’t care, pulling you into a slow kiss “as long as i get to spend more time with my favorite girl”

—————————————————————————

delivery driver! yuji

-i felt bad for giving him a delivery driver (no hate to delivery drivers obvi) i feel like its so much less glamorous but it kinda fits him😭😭

-yuji is a little pizza boy, driving around the city in his busted, broken toyota camry, but whatever pays the bills right?

-but, hes a broke college student and this is the only way to pay off all his loans.

-its his last house for the night, he walks up to the door and sees you, teary eyed and holding a tub of ice-cream in one hand and a spoon in the other.

“fuck.. you like that? do i fuck you better than he ever could” he said, your pushed against the wall with yuji fucking you at a pace you cant keep up woth “mmmhm.. m’yes- y..uji soso good!” you cry out, tears spilling from your face as he keeps going “good, i’ll fuck the thoughts of him out of your mind”

—————————————————————————

firefighter! ino

-oh my lord imagine this man in firefighter gear, AWOOGA, that hose aint the only thing spraying🥰(im sorry that was so bad😭)

-ino is a caring person, putting others safety before his own, i mean thats his job as a firefighter.

-so when someone sets your apartment on fore, ino is the first one rushing in to help, even tho he has no clue who you are

-he helps you out, and then theres the investigation, but ino is the only one you trust to talk to about what happened! looks like you’ll be spending a lot more time with him!!

“cmon baby im only fucking you in here cause you basically begged for me infront of those police officers “ he says hips snapping against your own, balls slapping your ass. “i only wanna talk to that firefighter ino! cant i talk to ino!” he says in a high pitch tone meant to be mocking you. “well now im here so talk to me baby, tell me how you feel.”

[slvthrs]

okay well now i need more dealer!vinnie x reader 😫

ofc babes!!

STARGIRL INTERLUDE | vinnie hacker

— MINORS PLEASE FUCK OFF FOR UR OWN GOOD —

after you and your drug dealer start dating and he just can't help feeling just a little too possessive of you

DRUG DEALER!VINNIE X FEM!READER

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI, use of drugs, relationship sex, degradation n praise kink, pet names, unprotected sex (use birth control idiots), choking, jealous/possessive vinnie, daddy kink, spanking

word count: 1.7k

Me and Vinnie had been dating for nearly a month and we were planning to celebrate our anniversary by going to have dinner at his apartment but we both had to go to our friend's house for different reasons- I was there to support my best friend during her birthday party and he was there to sell drugs.

So cut to me currently sitting in front of my mirror doing my makeup- it’s was my everyday look of black smudged eyeliner but I added some shimmer on my eyelids to make them pop and added a deep red almost black lipstick to the middle of my lips and smudged it out- Vinnie’s favorite.

I fluffed up my hair and tried to find some sort of hairstyle to wear but I just ended up wearing it down. I was wearing a mini skirt with a red corset top- I was wearing a jumble of rings and necklaces along with his silver choker from hard jewellery. On my feet were platforms along with knee high black lace socks and to finish the outfit I was wearing Vinnie’s oversized leather jacket. 

I had finished my makeup and now I was sitting on my bed grabbing the stuff to put into my black purse- my phone, airpods, cigarette box, money, ID, lighter and my weed pen. That was when Vinnie walked into the room and looked at me with a sort of excitement which I then realized was due to the fact I was wearing his jacket and just in general of how good I looked.

“Peaches” God I loved that pet name, he sat in front of me on the bed, “You look so fucking good” he sad planting a kiss on my lips,

I giggled against his lips, and he continued “Do we have to go out, I bet Chloe won’t even know your missing” he argued

“Babe, it’s Chloe. I’ve known her since forever c’mon we just have to make an appearance and you have people who expect you to be there” I say with a pout and then drag him off our bed and then plant a kiss on his temple.

He was wearing a white david bowie top along with boyfriend jeans in blue and some nike air forces. The outfit was completed with gold rings on his hand and a gold necklace around his neck. To put is easily he looked fucking amazing I ruffled up his blond locks a bit and planted a kiss on his lips and pull him out of the apartment. 

We end up situated in his car and I connect my phone to the aux and scroll through my spotify to find a good song but I just end up putting my likes on shuffled and it ends up on ‘Stargirl Interlude’ and I start dancing in my seat and lip syncing to the song,

“I had a vision, 

A vision of my nails in the kitchen, 

Scratching counter tops, I was screaming, 

My back arched like a cat, my position couldn't stop you were hitting it”

The lyrics just end up causing Vinnie to end up in a fit of laughter and I end up smacking his arms and asking him to stop acting like a middle schooler with fake offense in my voice, 

“Holy shit what is this song called” He asks while trying to compose himself, I just grin at him and tell him it's called Stargirl Interlude,

“Oh wait it’s like the song you made me listen to um what was it OH WAIT STARBOY” He exclaims and I just nod at him chuckling at myself, 

“So wait if I’m Starboy does that make you my Stargirl” He asks and I think about it, “Hmm I guess so, I’m your stargirl” he just laughs, “You bet you are,” and then he kisses me again

— — TIME SKIP — —

We’ve been at Chloe’s party for about 3 hours and both of us want to leave but Vinnie has one more thing he has to do so I just end up waiting for him while on my phone when a guy come up to me, 

“Oh hey I saw you from across the dance floor, you look really pretty” He says, he’s about 6 foot, and is wearing a black dress top and black jeans, damn nice clothes,

“Oh thanks” I saw with a friendly smile hoping to end this conversation

“I was wondering if I could get your number your just like really hot” Fuck this is going to be an annoying conversation

“Uhm actually I have a boyfriend so no thanks” I say trying to be as nice as possible

“Oh c’mon I don’t see him anywhere” He says trying to convince me

“He’s in the back and I’m seriously not interested” I say backing up but eventually hitting a counter

He keeps trying to get my number for about 3 more minutes while I keep telling him to stop until I meet Vinnie’s eyes across the room in front of the door looking like he’s about to hurt someone, and that's when I remember that it might look like something entirely different to him.

I maneuver around the guy and I run to Vinnie who is almost outside the door as I call out his name, “Vinnie just listen to me!” I yell and all he does is tell me is to get into his car

We just sit in the silence waiting for eachother to say something, we don’t say anything until we get into the apartment and as soon as the door closes he’s on me.

His lips smash onto mine as I’m pressed on the door and he’s pulling my jacket off, “I thought I was gonna go crazy seeing you flirt with him” He says as he pulls his lips off mine and onto my neck.

“Vinnie, fuck, I wasn’t flirting with him” I moan out

“Fuck, I know baby I know but I need to remind you who you belong to got it?” He says it like it's a question but it’s a statement, a command and a promise.

He pulls me off the door and I’m bent over his countertop with him pulling of my skirt and my  panties in one swift motion and smacking my ass causing me to yelp and he grabs the base of my neck making me look up at him into his eyes that have darkened with something more sinister, 

“I’m gonna make sure the only thing you can say after this is my fucking name, got it whore?” He says while slapping my ass again causing me to moan a ‘yes daddy’ under my breath

He takes his dick out, pumping it a bit and then running it through my folds and slamming it into me, gaining some of the most porngraphic moans that have ever left my mouth.

He places his finger around the choker on my neck and then pulls my head back and then spits in my mouth, “C’mon whore swallow it” he says as his eyes narrow and darken

His hands don’t leave my neck instead they let go of my choker and now he’s choking me letting me see stars, it doesn’t take long for my orgasm to come crashing as I cum around his dick.

He pulls me off and then spins me around and picks me up and takes me to his room and places me on his bed but he doesn’t join me he gets up and walks to the living room to grab my purse and pulls out my weed pen.

He sits in front of me and takes two puffs of the pen and then pulls my mouth close to him and blows the smoke into my mouth, the mixture of the weed and the eroticness of the situation makes my head spin and I pull Vinnie into a messy kiss still recovering from my post oragasm haze.

I climb on top of him and I rub his dick with my cunt making him moan in my mouth and letting me relish in the power I have. But it doesn’t last long until he’s pulling me off of him and pushing me on the bed and climbing on top of me to fuck me.

He lines his dick up with me and slams into me again causing me to tip back my head and arch into him, I claw at his shirt and he gets the hint and pulls his shit of but not before he pulls of my shirt and I run my hands up from his abs up to his chest and I start biting in hickies into his chest until I grab his hands and start kissing his finger and then put the digits into my mouth swirling them around with my tongue and sucking on them as if they were his dick.

I open my eyes to see him staring deep into me just watching as I suck on his finger, he’s so focused on looking and me that he’s stopped moving and is just staring, “God your such a whore for me aren’t you, your my little bitch” I don’t respond I just moan around him finger and pull them out with a pop!

He takes the hand I was just sucking on and brings them to my clit and starts circling it and continues thrusting into me chasing his own orgasm, I’m so close that my legs are shaking and I’m about to cry while he just places a kiss on my lips and continues his agonizing pace. 

He finally cums after I cum for a second time and pulls out of me rolling over and he gets up to walk to the bathroom to grab a towel to clean me up and then finally lays down next to me grabbing the weed pen, and doing a few puffs before he passes the pen to me letting me take a few puffs before I succumb to my tiredness but not before he kisses me and calls me “My precious girl” as he cuddles up next to me and we succumb to our exhaustion.

[anzulvr]

hii could i please request a little hurt/comfort drabble where reader feels sad during christmas season but forces herself to at least pretend to be happy because karma’s birthday is on christmas day :( but karma notices how her smile doesn’t meet her eyes and stuff and asks reader about it!

Summary: You’re sad on Christmas, Karma x reader (except it’s his birthday.) hurt/comfort GN!reader HUGE SPOILER WARNING FOR ASSASSINATION CLASSROOM

(this is so cute I LOVE THIS REQUEST thank u! Had this in my drafts for a while but waited for Christmas to post)

It had been two years since everything ended. Two years since Korosensei died and all of End class were labeled as victims with some weird-Stockholm attachment to the monster who blew up the moon.

It was strange, seeing everyone care about you when you didn’t need it and remembering how low they thought of you when you were only the reject class of kunugigaoka.

A lot happened in two years, not a long time but considering how quickly everything was moving you hadn’t had time to catch up. Like any special day Christmas wasn’t a good time anymore- something your classmates agreed on. With the impact Korosensei had on your lives it was impossible to celebrate anything without wondering what would have been if you managed to save him. That was only wishful thinking, you couldn’t change the past.

Regardless, today you tried to keep a smile on your face. It was the most important time of the year, Karmas birthday- and Christmas too.

You stared at your poor attempt to decorate the cake you baked with Karma, the frosting written birthday note was almost illegible.

“What’s with the look, you’re writing isn’t that bad.”

You looked up after hearing Karmas voice as if you were pulled out of a trance.

“What look? I know it’s not that bad I was admiring our hard work.”

“More like my hard work, you kept dropping everything! Seriously though, what’s wrong? The whole day I’ve been catching you teary eyed.”

You turned your back to the counter to face him as you set the frosting bag down “I’m fine, today’s your day I’m not going to bother you with my problems. You should enjoy everything to its fullest.”

“I’m not going to enjoy anything if you’re not happy, ‘m not budging tell me why you’re upset.”

Karma was stubborn, you knew him well enough to realized this wasn’t negotiable.

“I don’t know… I was just thinking about how Korosensei can’t spend Christmas with us, and he can’t be here for your birthday. Ever since we killed him, Ive felt so helpless? Like we never did enough.”

He nodded slowly breaking eye contact for a second, “my parents haven’t answered my call today, they’re in Italy right now, all I got was a text saying they were busy and that they’d talk later. I know they haven’t forgotten, it’s kind of impossible when it’s Christmas but still- I hoped they would have time for me today, I know they have more important things to do but It made me think about how Korosensei would’ve been here.”

you nodded in response, “They could still call the days not over… and if they don’t they’ll try to make it up to you…” You could bet they wouldn’t call until the next day but you wanted to reassure him, there wasn’t a lot you could say in this situation that would make him feel better.

“It’s fine, you’re here- and you’re the best company, I had fun today. I just meant Korosensei has done a lot for us he’s proud we pulled that off, he wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up over it.”

“I know you’re right, still I wish I could’ve done more, we should’ve tried harder to save him.”

“We did what we had to. I miss him too, there’s a lot of things I could never repay Korosensei for—”

“Like getting you through senioritis? Or always bringing money in his wallet even though he knew you’d steal it?”

“I meant setting us up together, but sure those were good too.” Karma smiles breaking tenseness of the conversation for moment, “at the time I thought he was being a hassle but without him im not sure id have you right now.”

Suddenly you felt shy laughing it off and covering your face for a moment while you composed yourself, “Yeah he did push for us a lot but I was obsessed with you far before we even ended up in 3-E so you would’ve had me regardless.”

“Yeah? Tell me more.”

“No way in hell, I don’t trust you to not make fun of me. Anyways I didn’t mean to bring up something depressing, we should be smearing cake all over your face right now.”

“Try all you want but it isn’t possible to mess up my face.”

“Wanna bet?” You shake the smile off your face.

“See that’s more I like it, we can enjoy our ugly cake now. And more importantly you can open your gift.”

“What do you mean my gift? It’s your birthday you’re not supposed to buy me stuff!”

“It’s also Christmas … I couldn’t help myself I really wanted to get you something.”

“But now I’m worried my gift won’t live up to yours!”

“[Name] you could give me rocks for all I care and I’d keep them in a safe with multiple locks.”

You gently shoved his shoulder suppressing your laughter, you leaned in to kiss him.

It was impossible to not feel better with him around. This morning you had woken up wishing time could stop for a moment and you ended the day hoping for the same thing but for a completely different reason.

[phoniexrose02]

NoNut

Demetri alexopoulos x Black! Reader

Smutt~ 🌰

Demetri had no Plans of Participate in no nut, Expectantly With you Walking By his Side now but When Robby Pulled out a Few Hundred after training, The Game was On.

He'd gotten about 20 Days into the Month before Your Skimpy Skirts an Shorts started to get to him, he wanted to Rip it off you-

"Demi? We still good to go for our Study Date tonight?" You asked innocently Moon and Yas at your side. Though you'd Chosen Simple Outfit it still Hugged and Showed your Curves. You'd thought the Long Black Dress would make it Easier for your Poor Boyfriend to Function, But all it was Doing was Turning him on...

"Yea, After Training of course" he Responded Making Yas Groan Loudly."I don't understand the Hype over these Karate Kids..." She Quietly Groaned out Referring to Both you and Moon, She left to her Last Period taking Moon with her.

You Wrapped your Arms around your Boyfriend Waist Gently shoving him into the Lockers, His Cheeks Began to Heat and he Could Feel His Dick harden as your Plump Tits smashed Against his Chest."Don't Train too Hard Ok?" Your soft Voice an Quiet, you Kissed his Cheek leaving a Glossy Lip Print Before Following the Girls to Class.

He'd been Bricked for the Rest of the School day an Decided to Get some Advice from his Training Pals.

" I can't Win this with Y/n around, Is it Hard with moon too?" He asked Hawk in the Middle of their Spar, He only Smirked before Putting the Young Man on his Back with a Hard Thud, Demetri Groaned the impact Knocking the Wind From him. Eli Kneeled to his Brother an Held out his hand."How Bad do you Want that 200?"

Pretty Bad...

He'd kept trying to tell himself that as he Approached your front door, it was More than Just a Bet. He wanted you to know that he wasn't Just There For your Rocking Body, but for you...

When you showed to his Door your Hugged Dress was Replaced with a pair of Shorts that Rode up your ass and a Crop top that Showed just a bit to much Cleavage.

"Hope your Ready to Study Hard~"

He'd known you enough to know what you wanted."uhm...don't you wanna start the homework!" He Sprung up from your Grasp over to his Backpack Where he Pulled out a Few Books an Paper, he Sat at his Computer Chair Turning away to Face his Desk, you'd Felt a bit Cold from his Sudden moment.

"Demi??"

You shuffled further to the edge his Bed in Suspension, an he finally Turned to you once again."Your not doin' that Stupid Bet are you?" His Face Gave you all the Confirmation you Need an you Giggled."Girls Talk Baby~" he Grumbled. He didn't want to have to Explain it...

"It's a Control thing, Plus id Get 200 out of it" he Shrugged, But the Face you Made to him Let him know you Weren't entirely sure what to say next.

"So you don't wanna Titty-Fuck me Right now??"

You Played with the edges of the your Top letting your Breast Spill from it, You Jiggled them a bit an He became a Tomato as he watched you Bouncing Boobs an Pouting face, he'd almost forgotten is Cash Money Prize."As Much as I'd Love to, I can't y/n, Please Don't make this Hard..." he Snapped his Head away from you to Whatever else he could in the Room."But I Got all Pretty for you Love~" you Mewled out slowly Descending to the Floor and to his Chair, He Watched you Crawl to him like a Predator staring down His Prey, your Breast Swallowing up any Necklace you wore.

"Well..." He Felt his Dick Harden straining in his tight Jeans." I guess when you Put it Like that...I Can't say No~" he Quickly Pawed at his Jeans to Let his Dick loose, you Sat on your Knees Waiting an licked your Lips as It Sprung Free. His Dick Stood at attention for you as He Grabbed a Small Bottle of Lube from His Desk Drawer.

"Haven't bust one in 20 days, make it Note-worthy?~" you pull off your top an bra revealing the Beauty Silver Bars, You watched his Dick Jump as the Reveal of your nipples piercings."Fuck, your Sneaky Minx" You Jerked at his Already Heated tip before stealing the Lube From his Shaking Hands, You Poured some onto your Boobs Before Slipping his Cock Snug in between.

"So Warm~" You Moved your Breast in Figure Eights, Squeezing his Dick and Pinching at your Own Piercings. He Leaned over Mouth agape, you Kissed at his Tip Making him Thrust a Bit into your Chest."Let me Fuck your Pretty Titties~" You Obeyed letting him Take Charge, He Grabbed your Breast by the hand fulls Squeezing them together tight and he leaned back an started his Wild thrust into your Sleek Breast. " Fuck! Fuck! I missed these these pretty Tits!~" Your Face Warmed at the Confession, an you began to lick at the Now Leaking Tip, the Precum warm an Salty. It's all it Took for him to Spill his Cum all over your Face and Tits, But God Damn was it a Big Load~

"God...this is really a Mess, I'll get something to Clean you with!" He Pulled up pants quickly before disappearing into the Bathroom. You huffed at the sound of running water and Grabbed your Phone, you Quickly Snap a Pic of your Cum Covered Tits. He comes back with a Warm Rag and you Quickly Toss your phone back onto the Bed. You Spent the Rest of the Night Making Sure he'd Spilled every last Drop from him, Putting him to Bed Before heading home yourself.

The Next day at school, he Shameful Made His failure known to his Buds Who Weren't too Surprised, Eli of all of his Friends Knew Full Well he wasn't getting that 200. Not only was his Girlfriend Hot but Everyone Knew How Crazy he went for you, How you two Would Magic Disappear any event and try to reappear like nothing happened. Its Obvious to the Boys he wouldn't last Long.

At the end of the school day he found you gossip with your girls in the hallway, Giggling an Whispering as he slowly Approached. Moon Quickly shoved something into your hand Before the Two Push Past Him."Better Luck Next Year..." Yas Whispers an the Girls Run off to Class Giggling. His Eyes finally laid to in Clearly a Bit Confused."What was that??" He asked quietly pointing behind him.

"Us girls made a Lil Bet too" you Smiled flashing the Money to him."It's not a Full 200 but I'm sure it's enough for a Lil Date Night~" you Branded a Beautiful Smile making him Blush a Bit.

"We can Go to my house After~" he Wiggled his Brows an you Follow up with a Pleased Giggle. He wrapped his arm around your waist Leading you to out for your Night of Fun~

More Cobra Kai 🐍

[anon-sect]

PART ONE

Collab with @jkob85

Mike was in a pickle. He had placed bets on his fantasy football score card that didn't go well. To make matters worse, he had bet a substantial amount of money on his score card. It was so much that it would take some time to pay it all in full. He saw his phone ring. The caller ID read the name of the guy he lost to. He decided not to answer the phone, especially since he couldn't pay the man his money. Unfortunately, this particular mam was not known to be the nicest of guys. He had a reputation of being known as a total jerk, but if he ignored him, maybe he might forget about the bet.

After a full couple of days of ignoring his calls, Mike had a visitor at his apartment door. He opened it, to see Drake standing there. "I had to show up in person since you don't answer phone calls or texts." He said to Mike as he pushed his way into Mike's apartment.

"I don't have the money to pay off the bet, Drake." Mike followed behind him into his own apartment. He knew that Drake was a jerk, but to force his own way into his place was a bit much. "I will let you know when I have it. So you can leave now." He demanded. He watched as Drake went to sit on his couch and put his feet on his table like he owned the place.

"I don't really care for excuses. I just want my money, okay. And now, not years from now." Drake folded his arms while looking at Mike. He was here just for that, and nothing else. "Like I said, you get it when I have it. Otherwise, get out of my place." Drake saw Mike demand. Mike then thought of a solution that could benefit him and Mike. "Okay, I will waive you bet and leave on one condition." He told him.

Mike was curious about what this new condition could be. If he could get out of paying the bet and get the jerk out of his apartment, he had to know what it was. "What are your terms then?" He asked. Mike saw a sadistic grin on Drake's face. "Place a bet on this coming weekend game. The collateral you put down on the bet is yourself instead of money since you can't pay off the previous bet. If the team you pick wins, you are off the hook and owe me nothing. But if that team loses, I own you. Your choice, or pay me my current bet you owe." He didn't like the other option as much as he didn't like the first one. But he also knew how crazy Drake could get when you owe him. He nodded to the new option. Since both knew who were playing this coming weekend, he picked a team for the win. Seeing that Drake was satisfied, he saw him go back to his front door. "I will collect next time if you lose again." Drake told him and walked out. Mike really hoped the team he chose would win.

The weekend came, and Mike watched the game closely. The team he chose had a great lead in the first quarter but lost the leading score in the second quarter. The first half of the game ended with them down by a couple of points. For the last two quarters, it was a close game that ended in a tie, resulting in going into overtime. But Mike hung his head in disappointment when the opposing team scored the next point to win the game. He had lost another bet to Drake. His phone had a text alert. It was from Drake, and it said that he was coming to collect later on today. The only positive was that it wasn't a money bet.

It was several hours later, Mike saw Drake at his apartment door. He was almost tempted not to open it, but that might make Drake bust down the door. He let him in to his apartment. He noticed that he was holding a strange device.

"You want the good news or the bad news?" Drake asked a confused looking Mike as he saw him noticed the TF device in his hands.

Mike didn't know what kind of game Drake was playing at the moment, but he did wanted to know what exactly was going on. "Good news first then." He replied to a smirk on Drake's face. "You don't have to pay me a single penny on the previous bet." He got a reply back as the strange device in Drake's hand was now pointing at him. A beam of light shined on his body from it. "Bad news is that you are mine to do with as I please for as long as I want." Drake told him. He saw him remove his shoes to see his bare feet. He wondered why he wasn't wearing any socks.

Suddenly, Mike felt strange. His apartment seems to become larger. Even Drake was getting taller than he already was. "I came to collect you. You will be going home with me, just not in the traditional way. I came here with no socks, but I am sure leaving with a special pair of socks. You." He heard him laugh as whatever was happening to him continued. He then realized that he was shrinking. His skin was starting to change, and it became almost cotton like. Drake's device was turning him into a pair of socks. Before he knew it, he had fallen to the floor as he lost all motor control over his entire body. He was on the floor facing upwards as his whole world view was giant size. His vision became blurry and then no sight afterwards. He found himself limp and blind on the floor, fearing what would happen next. He could hear Drake's maniacal laugh above him.

Drake watch as a normal human being was now a pair of socks on the floor for his size 13 feet. He picked them up to examine them. They were super soft and look supportive. He put them on his feet and they actually felt good. He put his shoes back on and walked out the door. Before he left, he made sure to put the lock the door since the previous owner would not be returning any time soon.

Mike may have been blind, but he could tell what was happening via his other senses. He felt Drake's feet enter his body, which he realized was split in two pieces. The slightly strong foot odor from his feet was foul. He could taste Drake's feet, and it wasn't something he would have wanted to do. He felt the pressure of Drake stepping on him. The part that really made him beg for mercy was when he was shoved into Drake's shoes. It smelled worse than his feet. He was trapped and surrounded by foul stench. As the walking continued, he faintly heard a door close. He quickly realized it was his apartment door, and Drake was leaving it. He didn't know exactly where he was headed next, but he was trapped around the feet of Drake for who knows how long.

Drake rather enjoyed the power trip he was feeling. He had never worn a guy on his feet before. It really felt like normal socks with just a little more comfort to them. Since he had some errands to run before heading back home, he decided he would break in his new pair of socks. The thought also crossed his mind that Mike could be useful in other ways than as a pair of socks as he drove to his next place he had to be. Till he got home, he would just think of his socks as just socks and not a person being forced to comfort his feet, even though the latter thought did put a smirk on his face.

Mike's mind was going crazy. He couldn't get used to the odor. One part of the odor was inside his sock bodies, and the other part was outside his sock bodies. No matter what, he was surrounded by it and trapped inside it. The constant walking on him also didn't help. He was being treated like a common object by Drake. He felt so embarrassed even though no one but Drake knew about the pair of living socks on his feet. It was just the sense of powerlessness that drove him crazy. He couldn't move any of the body, not even squirm. He was completely at the mercy of Drake with no one to come rescue him.

A few hours later, Drake finally got home. His feet felt so good the entire time he wore Mike. Once in his bedroom, he decided that he would mark Mike as his property in a special way. He got undressed and was just in his underwear. He pulled them down and got on the bed. He grabbed one of the socks, and placed it over his dick. He thought about the entire time if doing his errands and how he was using another guy as his socks. He thought about how Mike was trapped in his shoes totally against his will, surrounded by his foot odor. He got so hard, it didn't take long for him to ejaculate inside the unwilling sock. He jerked his seed into it, hoping Mike could taste it. He enjoyed it so much that he did the same thing to the other sock in the pair.

Mike thought that Drake couldn't torment him any worse till he was forced to taste his cum, not just once, but twice. He was really marking him as his property. He felt disgust for the guy, but it was powerless to do anything to stop him. He decided that if the opportunity to escape or over power should arise, he would do so. He may be trapped as a pair of socks, but his mind would not subcome to be submissive.

[linkemon]

Maid/Butler headcanons 1

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here.

Hiring a good maid or butler for a mansion is not easy. Especially when a loyal and helping hand is needed. Some workers can be really interesting people...

Arataki Itto

✧ Itto usually says more than he does. There are moments when you genuinely want to strangle him for it. Guests are almost at the door and he's not in the lobby to greet them yet? Standard...

✧ Often brags about being able to do things that he actually cannot do or that other employees have to correct after him. However, this does not change the fact that he has a heart of gold. You've already gotten into trouble once because when one of the guests spread bad rumors about you, he didn't fail to point it out (he almost beat him up but we're not talking about that...). Demands were made to fire him but you knew he meant well and you didn't.

✧ If someone needs to get rid of bugs, he's the perfect guy. Apparently, he collects them and arranges fights between them with bets among the other employees. You don't care much as long as the bugs are out of sight.

✧ He is perfect for escorts. You are definitely not in danger with him. Even its appearance deters pickpockets or bandits when you walk outside the residence.

✧ Need to chop wood? No problem. He doesn't mind that it's outside of his responsibilities. Sometimes you can see quite nice views from the window...

Clorinde

✧ She is a woman who knows and values etiquette and honor. She is extremely loyal to you. You can be sure that once you hire her, no amount of money will bribe her to leave her position. Your opponents have no chances because no gossip will leave the mansion.

✧ Clorinde carries a weapon close to her and no one can stop her, although many criticize that it is not fitting. She puts it nearby when she works so as not to scare others. However, it must be a place where she can reach it quickly. Sometimes you feel like she's more your guardian than your maid.

✧ She once defended you during an assault while you were riding in a carriage. You always thought she only carried a sword. To your surprise, it turned out that she also has firearms, and she definitely knows how to use them. You owe her your life.

✧ Past attacks are no excuse for lack of good manners. Your collar better be in perfect condition, or she'll come to check it out...

Layla

✧ Overslept on her shift again? Standard. It got to the point where the other maids let Layla know to come in earlier than she really should, otherwise she's never on time. Of course you figured it out anyway but everyone pretends everything is fine.

✧ The girl is really trying. Which results in some very odd moments of brilliant flashes that keep her working at the mansion. Sometimes you feel like there are two Laylas inside. One of them sleeps while the other invents a star-inspired ball that has become the best of the season. For a long time, guests reminisced about the twinkling drapes, the constellation-shaped cakes, and seeing the constellations together through the telescopes she made herself.

✧ She has no trouble falling asleep but you can be sure that she will solve all your sleep related worries. Warm milk, a comfortable pillow or a story about her favorite stars. She'll fall asleep faster than you but I'm sure she'll be able to help you.

✧ She is educated enough to help you with the paperwork for managing the residence. She's doing really well at that field.

Kamisato Ayaka

✧ The girl is an example of complex help in the mansion. Or at least that's what many who don't know her inner dilemmas think. Ayaka tries to be perfect which pays with great fatigue. She often has the impression that everyone is looking at her hands and waiting for a slip, which she does not intend to allow.

✧ For a while she refused to be friends with you. It is rare for maids to be so close to their employer. But over time, she got used to the idea and enjoy it. Especially that her perfection makes it difficult to make close acquaintances among co-workers. She is ready to listen to your problems and advise you as much as possible.

✧ Perfectly understands politics in salons and words slipped between the lines.She is able to catch what even you yourself sometimes did not heard. She will advise you on whom to turn to and how you can convince others to your point. Thanks to this, the residence gains many business partners and new clients.

✧ She has many talents. Traditional tea brewing or the art of dancing with fans are just some of them. If things don't go your way and you need to distract your guests from the mishap, she certainly won't disappoint.

[freakshowtwopointoh]

All Bets Are Off

@pinkcrocss suggested this and i had to

“I don’t think the two of you could be closer to each other unless you were literally in each other's skin.” Andre teased, watching as Marie and Jordan readjusted their limbs once more.

“We’re not trying to get closer, we’re trying to get comfortable. The human body is a burden.” Jordan complained, shifting Marie’s body slightly to a better position.

“The two of you are essentially attached at the hip, I’m surprised your brains and bodies haven’t merged together.” Emma added. “You’re lucky I like you, Jordan. Considering you basically stole my best friend and roommate.” That got her a stuffed turtle thrown at her head. “Hey!”

“We’re not that clingy.” Marie protested, but it was such a boldfaced lie that the entire room burst into laughter, Marie and Jordan included.

“I don’t think you guys could manage a day without contacting each other.” Cate teased. And Jordan knew a challenge when they heard one, especially from Cate. Marie gave them a slight nod and they grinned despite the racing of their heart.

“Wanna bet?” Jordan asked, a smirk playing on their lips. And so, the bet was on. From midnight tonight to midnight next Monday, Marie and Jordan weren’t allowed to contact each other. Eye contact or brief conversation in public is permitted, but no texting or calls, and absolutely no touching. The winner takes everyone out that weekend. 

Marie and Jordan would pretend that it was no big deal, which was how the bet ended up lasting for a full week. The rest of the crew had money on who would cave first.

Place Your Bets Here (Emma, Sam, Cate, Luke, Andre)

jumanji: i dont think jor will make it past day 4

cricket: r u kidding? they wont make it past day 2. trust me, i live with marie. theyre always around

magneto: i think we’re all underestimating jordans stubbornness. i think marie will almost make it, but give in after jor does something reckless and she goes to yell at them

cricket: marie might be willing to die (or kill) for jordan but she’d never willingly lose a bet to them.

fuego: tbh i think they’re both too stubborn to give in but they will make it our problem during this week and after

jumanji: yeah id bet extra money that jor will spend at least one night this week in my dorm

kong: [liked cricket’s message]

kong: [liked cricket’s message]

It would take less than twenty four hours for both Marie and Jordan to begin to feel the struggle. For Jordan, it was like a persistent itch under their skin. They scrolled through her minimal social media constantly, or flipping through their camera roll just to see her perfect, sunshiney smile. It was marginally better when they were in the same room as her, but that tested their discipline in a whole different way. They were acutely aware of her every move. It took everything in them to keep their eyes on the board. Their notes were... non-existent. 

Marie had the opposite problem. Life was boring without Jordan, but she knew boring. She could handle boredom. But being in the same room as them and not speaking to them? Not touching them? She could barely look at them. Their eyes were always on her, piercing through her, so obviously wanting her. How was she supposed to stay away from those eyes? She barely looked at Instagram, and came close to changing her lock screen just to avoid the temptation. 

This was going to be a long week.

By the third day, Jordan had walked up to Marie’s dorm before walking away three times, and nearly called her countless times. They had also snapped five pens and three pencils while attempting to focus. 

Cate opened her door before Jordan even knocked.

“I’m surprised it took you this long. Come in.” She said lightly, a small smile on her lips.

“I’m actually going fucking insane. Like honest-to-god, I swear I hallucinated her voice in the library earlier. What has this girl done to me?” Jordan flopped back on Cate’s bed, ignoring her irritated look. 

“You’re just in love.” She said casually, finishing taking off her makeup as Jordan spoke.

“That’s worse, Cate! Don’t you see how that’s worse? I’m not prepared for this.” Their legs shortened suddenly, leaving their feet dangling off the edge of Cate’s bed as they shifted.

“Jordan Li. Did you think you could plan falling in love?” Cate admonished, looking directly into the eyes of her anxious friend.

“I thought I could plan it a bit easier than this!” They whined.

“Maybe you are insane. Do you schedule your other feelings?” She teased. 

“... Sometimes.” Cate shook her head and chuckled.

“Jor, stop fighting your feelings and feel them.” She said seriously, before deftly changing the subject.

Marie was in even deeper denial than Jordan. She refused to admit to Emma that she was coming close to losing the bet - even when it was painfully obvious.

“Marie. Marie. Maaaaaaaaarie.” Finally, she resorted to throwing a pillow at her head. “Stop daydreaming about Jordan and help me film this video for my class.”

“I don’t daydream. I’m thinking.” She retorted, but she was clearly staring at Jordan’s hoodie, which was draped over a chair.

“Yeah, sure. And I’m a math whiz. Now help me.” Emma teased, grabbing Marie’s arm and dragging her out of the chair. She would have an enjoyable evening helping Emma with her homework, but night came and she dialed Jordan’s number for the millionth time before turning her phone off and trying to sleep.

But as it turned out, no one could have predicted the outcome of this bet - the two lovebirds were so distracted trying not to think about the other that they walked directly into each other outside of Brink’s office. Fumbling over their things, handing books and papers back to each other, their fingers brushed and it was all over.

“Fuck this.” they muttered in unison. Jordan helped Marie up before sliding their hand directly into hers and dragging her back to their dorm.

"I missed you, Moreau." Jordan mumbled against Marie's lips, their hands cupping her face. She hummed contentedly, resting her hand on the nape of their neck and keeping them close to her.

They took their time with each other, relearning every curve and edge of their bodies. Marie's skin was covered in hickies and bite marks, a blossoming masterpiece that Jordan could not get enough of. She was theirs. It was addictive. They just couldn't get enough of each other. And every small gasp or moan Jordan made sent desire coursing through Marie, a reminder of the power she held over them.

But Jordan couldn't be kept from between Marie's legs for much longer. Her body was incredibly responsive, arching into every touch. They needed to taste her again, feel her come entirely undone for them. They let their tongue trace along her inner thighs, feeling their own arousal surge as she moaned softly.

"Jor, please-" She whined as their tongue teased her wet folds. They smirked, sinking their long fingers into the flesh of her ass, pulling her closer.

"Patience, princess." They said huskily, unable to keep from teasing her a little longer. But finally, their tongue brushed against her clit, causing her body to buck into their mouth. A dark, lustful laugh came from Jordan's throat before they dove in, their lips wrapping around her clit.

Jordan could honestly spend their whole life between Marie's legs, making her whimper, moan, and cry just for them, putting their mouth and tongue to work. But when she cums for the third time, that perfect, fucked out look in her eyes, they can't help themselves. They're shifting without thinking, pulling away from her center and pulling out their cock.

"Fuck, Marie, I need to feel that tight cunt wrapped around me, right now." They groaned, pushing her back fully onto the bed before they pushed themself inside of her cunt, still dripping with her most recent orgasm.

They were both screaming each other's names all night long.

They’d both say the other broke the bet first. Their friends were just glad they didn’t have to deal with the couple’s pouting for a full week.

[naavispider]

All I’m saying is, imagine cuddly drunk Spider. That would be ADORABLE!!!

"But dad," Spider groaned, eyes wide. The very image of mockery.

The words twisted something deep within Quaritch, uncomfortably.

Spider was shoved onto his duvet, looking anything but ready to sleep. The soft sea wind blew through both of them, sending a shiver down Spider's spine.

"Now lay down," Quaritch encouraged.

But the boy just stared up at him, grinning in disobedience.

"Spider," Quaritch growled, frustration working its way through his voice, covering the kid in its catch.

"Okay, ok'y, jeeesus..." Spider began, but he was still grinning. Hmm. Quaritch grabbed his jacket from his nearby pack and threw it over Spider. For a moment the kid disappeared completely under the material.

"Y'tryna smother me or somethin'?" Came the familiar voice from under the folds of fabric. "I'll have you f'r that..."

Quaritch rolled his eyes but didn't rise to it. "Stay here, stay down, and go to sleep."

Spider tucked his head out from under the jacket, so only his face was visible. "Uh-huh," he mumbled. "I'm definitely gonna do that."

Not thrilled by this response, Quaritch stood and wandered back to where Lyle, Savine, Mansk and the rest were sitting around the fire.

"You back with us Colonel? Shall I deal you in?" Lyle called, his face lighting up. Mansk still had his sunglasses on, despite the darkness of the hour.

Quaritch nodded as he glanced a stressed look over to Spider's makeshift bed. The kid was still there, staring at him intently, smiling maniacally, as if constantly on the edge of a laugh. It almost freaked Quaritch out.

"He looks stoned," Savine said as she followed Quaritch's gaze. "What's wrong with him?"

Quaritch pursed his lips, thankful that whatever it was would wear off by morning. "I don't know... What are we playing?" he asked to change the subject, and to take his mind off the horror movie child still staring evilly across the deck.

"Blackjack," Savine replied. "You sure you're in?"

"Deal the cards!" Quaritch irked. Why did Savine always think he sucked at card games?

She did as he said, and the recoms picked up their hands, assessing their first plays. Quaritch his poker face into position, watching his squad carefully. It was Fike to go first.

The rounds passed tensely, and before Quaritch knew it, his thoughts had drifted away from his drunkard sun. It was difficult to play betting games on Pandora, since money wasn't in USD but tokens, to be spent in Bridgehead - their own Pandoran form of currency. Tokens were electronic of course, linked to their ID cards, so Lyle had the tablet out to take count of the numbers. After half an hour, Quaritch was doing reasonably well. That was until-

"He has an ace!"

Quaritch spun round furiously as Spider ran back from his reach to go and hide behind behind Lyle. "You bastard kid!" He groaned.

Wainfleet looked stunned to be Spider's choice of refuge at spoiling Quaritch's shot at the game, but Quaritch knew the sucker was secretly loving it. Nevertheless, Lyle quickly covered his own hand from the boy, raising his arm in shock as Spider buried his way into the recom's side. He looked to Qauritch as if to say 'I don't know, please don't blame me for this.'

Savine and Fike roared with laughter.

"I'm sorry!" Spider screeched, provoking even a chuckle from Mansk.

"You just ruined my wins..." Quaritch glared over the circle.

Spider buried deeper into Wainfleet's side, hiding his face even as he tried to control his laughter. Kid wasn't sorry.

"I should just throw him overboard..." he muttered darkly.

"Noooo!" Spider wailed. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again!" He held his hands up in attempt to show his remorse, but it was utterly ruined by the splutters of laughter he was trying to repress.

Anger flashed in Quaritch's eyes.

"Please don't throw me overboard, I can't swim! What d'you want? I c'n give you my food rations?"

"Those are our food rations."

Spider's eyes widened even further, and then an incredible idea seemed to cross him. "I'll give you my jacket!"

Quaritch sagged his shoulders as Savine struggled to stem the tears flowing from her eyes.

The kid was beyond reasoning with.

"Spider, come here," Savine managed to get out.

Spider eyed her warily, before ducking out from the safety of Wainfleet's protection. She patted the space next to her. "Come on, you can be on my team."

Spider's face lit up as he realised she was inviting him into the game.

"But no more ruining cards for people, okay?" she said reproachfully.

Spider raised his hand in a salute, before turning to Quaritch and grinning at him from across the circle.

"I do not believe this..." Quaritch angrily threw down his hand. He stalked over to his tablet, thinking that now he was excluded from the game he might as well get some work done.

The next time he looked up at the circle, Spider was on Savine's leg, looking more and more like a young child as the night wore on. She had wrapped an arm around his middle, sometimes bouncing him to keep him occupied when the game slowed.

Eventually, the kid's eyes began to close. From the way Spider shook his head and crawled closer to her, she'd obviously suggested that he go to bed. Quaritch couldn't help the warmth spreading from his chest at the sight of Spider hugging her chest as a toddler would cling to be carried. He waited a few more minutes to give the kid enough time to get properly sleepy, before approaching Savine and giving her the look that said, 'pass him to me'.

She gripped the dozing Spider under his arms and lifted him up so Quaritch could replace her hold on him. He brought Spider into the same hold she had used on him. Spider shifted as Quaritch pulled him close.

"Whaty'doin?" he grumbled.

"Taking you to bed," Quaritch replied as he raised a hand to cup Spider's head close to his neck. He almost didn't want to put him down. He stood for a minute longer than was strictly necessary, ten wandered to the ship's railing, looking out at the black ocean. He panicked when Spider brought his legs up to wrap around his waist. Shit. Quaritch closed his eyes, trying to lower his clamouring heartbeat at the realisation that the kid was just snuggling closer to him.

He shifted Spider closer and higher in his arms, staring into the darkness of the waves, holding his boy close. He never wanted this moment to end.