#if a motherfucker wants to do something to me I’m not going down without a fight

[disco-cola]

the world is just getting worse and worse seemingly in my AREA (like literally just my tiny ass part of suburb) in the last 5 DAYS there’s been a SA on a woman (literally not even an HOUR after I walked the exact same path with my dog, I was there shortly after 10 PM and it happened shortly after 11), and two violent fights between strangers who just randomly got attacked by other men and a girl trying to help was pushed into the track bed MINUTES before the train was due to arrive and then there also was an attempted robbery with a kn1fe and im not even kidding or exaggerating I wish I fucking was but all of those things happened like 2-5 minutes fucking walking distance from my apartment I usually enjoyed taking my doggo on a bigger walk after dark especially now that it’s way too hot during daytime also my social anxiety is better when it’s dark and not that many people out anymore it was just so cozy and comfortable and I always stayed in my area which is well lit and where there’s a lot of apartment buildings around but as we see that means absolutely nothing (also the woman who got SA‘d was literally on the phone and she MUST have walked past my apt building bc its en route to where she was headed and around here she must’ve been approached by a man asking where the station is so she pointed him in the right direction and he then turned around and followed her instead like she was just a coincidental v!ctim) like I feel so unsafe I don’t dare to go out after 10 PM anymore ☺️ also all of those things were commited by men ☺️ as if it isn’t bad enough that a lot of women me included feel the need to dress and walk differently after a certain time of night ☺️ like i only go out in something baggy with a hood covering my hair wide or straight pants and combat boots and i try to walk like a dude my only benefit is i am 5ft7 and don’t look petite in baggy clothes it must be even scarier if you’re shorter in height

[rafesangelita]

kook!sweetheart!reader participating in a charity car wash and rafe is there as her big manly body guard to scare off anyone who ogles her in her tiny bikini >.<

warnings: jealous!rafe, john b & jj & pope make an appearance lol, a littleee bit of an altercation

rafe wasn’t happy about this. at all.

“oh, how generous of you!” you took the hundred dollar bill from one of the regulars at the country club, blowing him a kiss as he rode away in his sparkling clean car. “was the kiss really necessary?” rafe grumbled, pulling you against his sun tanned skin. you giggled, your hand coming up to stroke the side of his face. “yes. maybe then he’ll tell his golf buddies to come down here and empty their wallets too.”

sensing your boyfriend’s distress, you turned around in his hold. “hey..” you cupped his cheeks, “we only have to be out here for one more hour, okay? think you could hold out from punching someone in the face?” rafe laughed, both of his hands squeezing your ass as he pulled you in for a kiss. hearing it before you felt it, you yelped when rafe slapped the globes of your butt.

“you’re terrible!” you pushed him away playfully, both of you watching as none other than the twinkie pull into the country club’s parking lot. “you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” rafe was quick to go up to the van, john b, jj, and pope all smiling at him innocently. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” rafe kicked the door, making you gasp. “rafe!” you scolded, quickly making your way over to pull him away.

“woah, man! we just wanted a wash. is your girl available?” you flashed jj a look, reaching for rafe’s arm. “like you can afford it.” rafe scoffed, his fists clenching at his sides. “i bet you i can.” it was silent for a moment, your heart dropping when rafe attempted to reach for jj inside the twinkie. “john b, do something!” you panicked, your strength comparing to nothing against rafe’s.

john b stopped laughing, separating them before pulling out a twenty dollar bill. “okay, alright! on a serious note though, can she just get cleaned up?” rafe shoved the bill against john b’s chest, spitting a ‘keep your pocket change, asshole.’ as you shook your head. “i don’t think that’s a good idea.” rafe finally let down, pulling you into his side. “aw, come on! i’ll make it fifty if you lather up for me.”

your eyes widened, jj wearing a smug look on his face. “motherfucker-” the twinkie sped off before rafe could lunge at it again, pope’s laughter echoing out of the parking lot. “i hate them.” rafe was seething at this point, his skin hot as he grabbed the small box your money was in. “go tell your friends you’re leaving, i’ll pay the rest of what you need.” without wanting to argue, you quickly told your friends bye before joining rafe in his truck.

“are you mad at me?” apart of you felt pathetic for asking, but with the way rafe was gripping the steering wheel, you couldn’t help but say something. “no, babe, i’m not mad at you,” he sighed, “i just can’t stand those fucking pogues.” he cursed, grabbing your hand. “you promise?” rafe pressed a kiss to your knuckles before turning on the engine. “i promise.” you sighed in relief.

“gotta’ get you home now. m’gonna rip that poor excuse of a bikini right off of you.”

[wannabeschyulersister]

under pressure

You were going to kill Richie. Strangle him until he was blue in the face. What sane person would send someone 47 texts while they were at work?

The door to the Bear was locked but you pounded on it until Fak answered it. “(Y/n)! What are you doing here?” He genuinely looked happy to see you.

“Hi Fak. Where the fuck is Richie?” You got straight to the point.

“He’s uh, in the back I think.” Fak knew better than to keep babbling on when you were upset.

You walked across the recently buffed floor to find the tall motherfucker that doesn’t know basic texting etiquette. Once you walked into the kitchen, it was pure chaos. There was shouting (mostly coming from Richie).

“Richie!” You yelled causing everyone to stop in their tracks.

Richie’s eyes widened a little, “Hey-“

You moved towards him and immediately shut him up, “You texted me 47 times! My phone literally froze from all of the texts! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“What’s wrong with me?! I was textin’ you because your boy is losing his fuckin’ mind!” Richie shouted back.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Richie grabbed a piece of paper off the counter, “Look at this shit! He’s changing the menu every fuckin’ day and also has this bullshit list of non-negotiables.”

You grabbed the paper from him (more like snatched it) and quickly glanced over it. It did in fact seem like Carmen was losing his mind.

“This doesn’t give you an excuse to text me like I owe you money or something!” You handed him the paper back (more like threw it) and made your way to the back in search of Carmen. He wasn’t in the office or near the lockers. You opened the back door and he was leaning against the wall.

He looked up when he heard the door opening and was surprised to see you. “Hey, I thought you were comin’ later tonight.”

“That was the plan but Richie is a dick.”

Carmen chuckled and reached out for you. You set your bag on a nearby box and let him pull you closer. He rested his head on your shoulder, “I think I’m fuckin’ this up.”

“And by “this” you mean the restaurant?”

He nodded a little against you, “Everything is fucked.”

“It did seem a little chaotic in there today. Richie said you want to change the menu every day?”

“It’s what the best restaurants do. It’s insane, I know but we have to try.”

“Doesn’t it seem a little insane to try that though?”

“It’ll be worth it. I don’t want to let anyone down. Everyone’s countin’ on me. I want to get Syd a star. I want to help Richie and Fak. Tina. And Marcus-“

You placed your hand on the back of his head soothingly. “I know, Carm.”

“I can’t disappoint everyone. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Carm, you make me proud each and every day. What you do in that kitchen is magical. Sure, sometimes a little dramatic,” that made him laugh, “but you’re amazing at what you do. This place, it’ll start off bumpy, it wouldn’t be easy. But once you all settle into your groove, people will be fighting to get into this place.”

Carmen tightened his grip on you and took a deep breath. He lifted his head and looked at you. You could see the anxiety practically written on his face. He was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. You wanted so badly to take the burden off of him.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He mumbled before kissing you softly.

“You’d have to deal with Richie’s crazy ass by yourself.”

Carmen laughed again and rested his forehead against yours, “What a nightmare.” You loved looking into his beautiful blue eyes.

“When Sugar is out on maternity leave, I want to step in to help.”

Carmen was a little surprised about what you said, “Really? But- but what about your job?”

“I’ve talked to my boss. I’m going to use some vacation time and then reduce my hours so that I can do both.”

“No, (Y/n). I can’t have you spreadin’ yourself so thin. I don’t want you stressed.”

“I’m going to be fine. I want to be here with you and to help the others.”

“(Y/n)-“

“Carmy, I’m not taking no for an answer. Don’t you want me around more? I’ll take some stress off of your plate. I’ll be here late nights with you with no one else around…” you trailed off hoping he’d catch the hint.

He smiled a little bit, “Late nights?”

You nodded, “Yes, late nights.”

“I like the idea of that.”

[pastafossa]

"Sharing is Caring" (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic, 🔥)

Time for the next prompt for my Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! This is for day 4 (Matt very much did not like this only being a drabble so now it's 5600 words, fuck me), I chose to combine the kink and fluff prompts (69 and 'Are you blushing?'). You can see the rest of the prompts I've chosen here if you'd like to know what's coming this month from me. Also, if you'd like notifications when I post a new story, drabble, or chapter, you can follow my sideblog @pastaxandria and set it for notifications! And off we go!

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Wordcount: 5.6k, Matt fought me and won

Warnings for this chapter, let's do this: smutty smut smut, 69 position so oral for both plus face riding, overstimulation, lil bit of prostate stim, multiple orgasms, panty tearing, matt is a MENACE

LOOK AT THIS SMUG MOTHERFUCKER, I HAD A NEAT AND ORDERLY TIMELINE AND A DRABBLE OUTLINE, INSTEAD HE THREW THAT OUT THE WINDOW AND HE HAS FILLED THIS FIC WITH SIN, THE AUDACITY, WHAT TIME IS IT, MATT THIS IS YOUR FAULT

Matt was a giving lover. That much you knew. 

No round of sex with Matt ended without at least one orgasm for you, and often more if he had his way, which he often did, the audacity of that man. It wasn’t unusual for him to spend hours with his head buried between your thighs, skilled tongue lapping hungrily at your sex in a way that made you see stars, and had also led to you tearing a hole in the sheets on more than one occasion. He’d bent you over every last surface in the apartment, and some of the surfaces outside it too. Somehow he always managed to sink himself so deeply inside you that you’d have sworn you felt him in your throat, and that feeling was always followed by him fucking into you with a practiced athleticism that never failed to leave you a melted, howling mess. 

In other words, if sex with you was an artform, your climax was the masterpiece Matt lovingly devoted himself to creating. You’d never been with someone who took such joy in giving you pleasure. But sometimes he was… too giving.

Like now, when what you wanted was to get that thick cock of his into your mouth. 

“Oh, but sweetheart, I’m so hungry,” he purred, a warm, distracting light in his eyes. He was all heat and hungry fire where he stood in the bedroom doorway, a slow, lazy lick of his lips that admittedly had your cunt clenching around nothing. That look meant he had no intention of letting you out of bed for at least the next three hours. The growing outline of his hardening cock against his slacks only confirmed your suspicion as his voice dropped into something low and tempting. “I’ve been thinking about tasting you all day. It’s the only reason I got through work. Let me get my mouth on you, just for a little while. I’ll make it good for you, you know I will. Don’t you want that?”

It was a good offer. A very good offer, and one he was more than capable of fulfilling. You both knew it. But damn it, you also knew what you wanted. 

“No,” you said stubbornly, crossing your arms. “I don’t want that.” “Lie,” he murmured. His head cocked, his sightless gaze dropping to your chest, and then lower until they landed somewhere around your hips. His lips slowly curled up into a smirk. “Mm, big lie.” “...Alright, so maybe I always want that,” you admitted reluctantly, biting your lip as you stared down at the outline of your prize, heavy and thick even through the cloth. It was enough to make your mouth water. “But right now I want to suck you off more.” 

And god, did you ever. It was rare for him to let you go down on him, but those memories had become regulars in your fantasies. There was just something about his soft moans and hitched whines when you took him in your mouth, the way he threw his head back and his mouth hung slack, his spine arching when you let the tip of your tongue gently brush that spot below the head of his cock until he fucking begged for you to swallow him down. And if you kept going after he’d already come, kept sucking at his softening cock and pressed your knuckle just right behind his balls, drove his trembling, writhing body carefully into overstimulation, you could even drag something like a second orgasm out of him in short succession. He’d been a melted, purring, barely coherent puddle for a good hour when you'd last managed it and you had every intention of seeing if you couldn’t do it again. 

His brows shot up, as if he were genuinely surprised at just how truthful you’d been, or maybe surprised at just aroused the thought of your mouth on him made you. But those same brows quickly furrowed in open confusion. “You…” His head shifted back and forth, checking again that you were telling the truth. “You want that? Over me going down on you?” “Why is it so hard to believe I want you like you want me?” You snorted, wandering over to him until you could lean in and kiss him playfully. He still seemed puzzled, but he made a little huff of amusement when you did it again, dragging your nails down the front of his shirt. His chest rumbled beneath your touch, a quiet groan of pleasure. “Come on. Share, Matt. Let me have a taste this time.” 

He tipped his head down slowly towards you, clearly tempted. You leaned into him, another rumble leaving him when your lips brushed tantalizingly against the corner of his mouth. You almost had him. The blatant note of your arousal in the air would only help your case now that you were up close. There was a growing flush on his cheeks, and his nostrils flared, taking your scent in when you not-so-subtly rubbed your thighs together. You slowly hooked one finger in his belt, giving it a tug. “Please?” Your desire left you almost breathless, the word hushed and pleading. You weren’t above begging if you needed to. “I need you in my mouth, Matt. You can have me after, can’t you?” “Or…” He drew his lower lip between his teeth for a moment, sucking lightly before letting it go,  his mouth parted and wet. “Or we can both get what we want, with a few adjustments.” Oh. 

Your breath caught, and you went still, something thick and rich as molten honey rolling through your veins. “Why, sweetheart,” he murmured, dipping his head until he could feather his lips over your ear. One of his fingers brushed over your sternum, so light you almost didn’t feel it, before it traced its way gradually up your throat to your cheek, stirring all the tiny hairs in its wake. “Are you blushing?” “No,” you whispered, caught up in visions of what that might look like, feel like, to have his tongue licking its way hungrily into your cunt, all while you took his cock in your mouth and tried your best to make him lose his mind. Would he grow sloppy then, clumsy when you toyed with the head of him? Or would he tap into that focus of his, the two of you in a blatant competition to see who broke first? You wouldn’t deny just how wet the idea made you, but that would also be a lot of sensation for him, especially when you both knew he could come from the taste of your cunt alone. “Or… yes, I… Would that be… too much? Your senses—”

“I’ll be fine. I may have…” He let out a low chuckle, his own cheeks now the lightest bit pink as he cleared his throat. “I may have gone into the office bathroom before I left work, and… taken care of myself. I’d been thinking about my head between your thighs all day. I had to make sure I could get home.”

The visual slammed into you with the force of a truck: Matt with one scarred hand pressed tight over his mouth to stifle his moans while he frantically stroked at his cock. And it was all because he’d spent hours thinking about how he was going to go home, throw you into bed, and find his way right down to your cunt. Your low moan was quickly swallowed up as he caught your chin and tipped your head up so his lips could find yours. The kiss was all teeth and burning heat, fire and fierce need, his stubble rasping against your skin until you felt like you were on fire. One of his hands swept down and behind you, fingers spread wide as he groped roughly, greedily against your ass. He used that same grip to haul you forward into him, making you whine when his hips ground into yours, letting you feel exactly what you’d done to him. “Fuck,” he breathed. “I can smell you, how wet you are. Tell me you want that, sweetheart. Tell me—” “God yes, please, please, Matt.”

You didn’t bother to keep track of where your clothes fell as you both stumbled your way into the bedroom, neither of you willing to pull your hands and mouths off each other long enough to figure that out. You managed to get everything off but your panties by the time you neared the bed, and you fully intended to slide those off, too, but you were distracted by the pleasure of Matt’s mouth as he determinedly nipped and licked at the skin of your throat, blatantly drinking the pheromones from your skin. Fortunately, Matt was a bit less distracted.

The tearing of fabric rang out, and then Matt’s fingers slipped between your soaked folds, stroking three fingers eagerly along your slit until you gasped out his name. 

“Oops,” he said with a smirk.

“You’re paying for those,” you grumbled. “Happily.” He side stepped around you, and by the time you’d turned he was already on the bed,  rolling onto his back and tipping his head back in clear expectation. Then he brought his wet, gleaming fingers up to his mouth, inhaling intently as he rubbed his fingers together. The reaction was immediate: a fierce groan, his other hand shooting down to wrap tightly around his cock as his hips bucked. 

“Shit,” you whispered, absolutely mesmerized as he took another greedy breath, a creeping flush spreading across his pale skin. He may have come an hour or so ago, but his cock already looked achingly hard, the whole of it flushed dark and red, a decadent droplet of precum beading at the tip. He was an absolute vision, all of that strength and power, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen laid out like a meal for you, this affected just by the thought, the scent of your arousal. It lit a fire in you, and Matt must have sensed it, because he let out a growl before giving in and shoving his fingers into his mouth. His eyes snapped shut, a loud moan tearing through him. His other hand started to stroke quickly at his cock, firm drives up with a smooth sweep of his palm over the head before sliding back down, all as he sucked the taste of you eagerly from his fingers, unwilling to lose even a single drop. It was one of the hottest things you’d ever seen. “Holy shit, you’re trying to kill me.” “Get up here and ride my face, sweetheart,” he grit out, shifting to let his thumb rub against the wet head of his cock. A delicious shiver ran through him, and he rolled his head on the pillow to face you. There was something far darker in his eyes, then, whispers of the Devil, of merciless rain on hard city streets. “Do it before I drag you up here myself, because I’m not going to fucking care if you can reach my cock when I do.”

It was the only invitation you needed, and you scrambled up onto the bed before he could change his mind. You had no intention of missing the opportunity he’d given you. 

You hit another brief snag, however, once you’d crawled over to him. You’d ridden his face before, but that had always been with you facing the headboard or the arm of the couch. This required the opposite angle. After a moment’s consideration, one that ended quickly when Matt growled a warning, you muttered a quiet, “fuck it,” and did a half turn, throwing your leg quickly over him so you had a knee on either side of his shoulders. Then you walked back a step or two on your knees, Matt’s free hand taking the meat of your thigh in his grip. It was difficult to figure out just where you needed to be to get the angle right. All you could see from this angle was his body stretched out like a long, open road before you, his other hand still stroking roughly at his cock, his knees bent, feet braced so he could rut lazily up into his grip. You didn’t really know where to put your hands, so you settled for placing them against the broad line of his chest, using them to brace yourself as you tentatively adjusted.

Matt, however, had lost his patience. 

With a snarl, he let go of his cock. Both his hands caught your hips, and with one hard yank he wrenched you down, burying his mouth against your pussy as if he hadn’t eaten in days. 

You both let out a sharp moan, Matt’s far more muffled than yours. There was no gentleness now, no parting you with his fingers to tease you with the tip of his tongue before settling in. Instead, it was something ravenous and filthy, animalistic, Matt’s mouth open wide as he licked and sucked at your folds and slit, greedily drinking up every last drop of your arousal he could find. For a moment you forgot what your plan had been. Your head fell to rest against his abdomen, your lips parted on a whine as Matt devoured your slick with heavy grunts and rumbles of approval, your hips starting to rock against his mouth. He was eating at you with everything in him, no thought given to things like air, based on his hitched breathing and muffled groans. He’d told you once, lips curled into a smirk, his chin still wet with your arousal, that if he died between your thighs, well, he’d consider that death a victorious one. 

“Mm—Matt, oh god, please,” you whimpered, your fingers curling against his skin, red lines left in your wake.

 Apparently satisfied that he’d taken in everything he could get, Matt tipped his head down just a hair, using his grip on your hips to adjust you until his tongue found your clit. With a purr, he began to lap warmly, steadily at it, over and over and over again, every now and then pursing his lips to kiss at it with a fond affection that was almost tender. The attention to your clit made your eyes flutter shut, quiet whimpers escaping you with each pass of his tongue, your body clenching in want. At the fresh trickle of wetness, Matt groaned in delight. “Taste so good, sweetheart, all mine,” he slurred warmly, syllables thick and sounding almost drugged, before his tongue found you again, falling right back into his aphrodisiac of choice. As he did, his body began to shift beneath you, before settling into a steady rocking. Startled, your eyes fluttered open, and you glanced down his body. What you saw made your mouth fall slack.

Matt had begun to roll his hips, rutting up in lazy waves. At first you thought it might be an invitation, a reminder, but as you watched you quickly realized what he was doing. With every flex and buck of his hips, he managed to rub his cock against his abdomen, just a little. You could already see the smears of precum pooling in the lines and grooves of flexing muscle, and that only made each successful contact smoother, Matt’s moans against your cunt growing stuttered and hoarse. It likely wouldn’t have been enough sensation for anyone else, but for Matt and his senses, it was just enough to drive him further upwards, his thick thighs starting to tremble. Hell, he was probably enjoying it, considering how he liked to tease himself. 

Fortunately, it was also a reminder of what you’d wanted to do. 

You quickly stretched out above him, headed for your goal. Your hips shifted just a little as you did, and Matt let out a low, possessive growl, his hands tightening on your hips in a warning. He didn’t like the idea that you might pull away before he was done, you had a feeling.

“Relax.” You choked out a shaky laugh, lowering your head to kiss fondly at the crest of his hip. Your affection softened his growl to a gentler, contented groan. “Just-just trying to get to you.” He seemed soothed by that, at least. Then again, maybe he just wasn’t listening, far too focused on your cunt to really hear you. Either way it didn’t matter, because you’d finally maneuvered yourself to where you’d wanted to be. You braced one hand shakily on his thigh, some of your weight settling down on top of him. His chest rose and fell on a happy sigh beneath you, more than happy to have you sprawled out over him. It also meant his cock was now in range of your mouth. 

It was even more tantalizing up close, flushed, wet, and practically begging for your attention even if Matt’s mouth was otherwise occupied. You eagerly caught the base of it, wrapping your fingers tight around it. Beneath you he let out a grunt, his tongue faltering against your clit. You had no interest in waiting any longer, so without a second’s hesitation you dipped your head and stuck out your tongue, catching one of the drops of precum rolling down the shaft. From there you rose with one long drag along his length, following that damp trail back up to his tip like you might a melting drop of ice cream. The moment your tongue swept over the head of Matt’s cock, he let out a startled moan, one that morphed into a hoarse cry when you lapped warmly at his slit, chasing the taste of him, taking in every fresh drop that welled up beneath your attention. It had been far too long since you’d gotten to taste him like this, bitter and salty in equal measure, the scent of musk and sex so much stronger here.

“God,” he choked out, squirming beneath you, his hands practically clawing at your hips. His head dropped back and away from your cunt as he gasped up to the ceiling, breath hitching on a high moan as the strokes of your tongue grew more firm. “Ah-ah! Your mouth, sweetheart, I need it, just—”

Time to see if you could break him before he broke you.

You dropped your mouth open wide before starting to slide him into your mouth, using your hand at his base to angle him and make it a little easier. But easier was… relative. 

Shit, you thought with a low moan, one that had Matt crying out behind you. He was so fucking thick, broad enough that you felt a faint ache in your jaw, saliva already leaking out past the corners of your mouth to drip down his length. There was no graceful way to swallow him down, but the sensation of your saliva rolling down his shaft, your stifled huffs through your nose as you slowly worked your way down his cock had him absolutely wrecked. His body trembled beneath you, his hips jerking in an only barely aborted attempt to thrust up into the warm, wet cavern of your mouth. He actually whined when you gave him your first little suck, and those whines only grew in number as you did it again, his panting music to your ears, so wet you were practically dripping down onto him. And maybe you really had, because before you could blink, he’d yanked your hips back down. This time, however, he brought his hands around so he could use his thumbs to part your body for him. With a wild moan, he’d buried his mouth against your slit, licking hotly at your opening over and over until he’d managed to worm his tongue inside you.

Your eyes rolled back at the feel of his tongue lapping eagerly at your inner walls, his chin grinding roughly against your clit. He’d burrowed in so hard against you it was if were intent on drowning, on latching onto you and never letting go. The angle was perfect, and you found yourself grinding down instinctively against his face, riding his tongue inside you and the stubbled texture of his chin, chasing your pleasure just as you were seeking his. His delighted moan as you started to use him the way he wanted was so muffled you swore he shouldn’t have been able to breathe, but still you couldn’t bring yourself to stop, whining around the length of him in your mouth as he slurped deeper, your thighs locking up around his head, his skin slick with you. He was dangerously close to coming based on the way his cock had started to throb against your tongue, and you weren’t much further behind, but he was clearly aiming to get you there first.

No.

No, you wanted to ruin him too.  Focus, just a little more. You clumsily lifted your head halfway up before skating back down to meet your hand around his base. Neither of you were coordinated enough to make this last much longer, too distracted by the rising waves of pleasure, but that didn’t matter. You knew his body. You could outlast him, by a few seconds at least. But to do that, you’d need one more thing. So, determined to win, you quickly worked your free hand down past his cock, pausing to knead briefly at his sac just for the way it made him moan roughly against your cunt before you drifted past it. You didn’t slide your fingers inside him—something you both hadn’t tried quite yet—but you did curl one finger and press your knuckle up gently just behind his balls, indirect pressure against that spot deep inside him. 

His back arched so sharply and suddenly beneath you he almost managed to throw you off, and his choked gasp hit air as he threw his head back. With a shaky whine, he ground down desperately against your finger before snapping his hips up, clearly torn between the wet suction of your mouth around his cock and the firm pressure against his prostate. But unlike last time he’d thrown his head back, this time you followed his mouth with your hips. You were too close to that edge now to go without it, especially not with the noises he was making—whimpers and broken moans, slurred pleas—so you tried desperately to find his lips again, grinding down against his face. And though you were reluctant to let him go, you still managed to tear your mouth off his cock just long enough to gasp out, “Fuck, Matt, please!” 

Your begging dragged him up out of his haze, and he hunted for your clit with his lips and tongue, licking at your cunt until he finally found it. He closed his lips around it just as you did the same to the head of his cock. Two warm pulls of your mouth to match his, and with one more shove of your finger against that spot inside him, he cried out and came hard into your mouth in salty, bitter waves that tasted like fucking satisfaction. His hoarse moans, desperate and so very needy wound up pushing you the rest of the way. Matt’s tongue lapped sloppily against your clit, and with a moan that matched his, you joined him in falling over the edge, your body tightening and releasing in a rolling tide of pleasure that left you floating, whimpering his name around his cock. He quickly shoved his mouth against your slit, grunting as he greedily drank down everything your body gave him. 

You thought you were done, then, your chest heaving, your thighs shaking as the waves began to ease into aftershocks. Matt nuzzled roughly at your clit, his tongue brushing over it almost curiously. Abruptly he moaned, dragging your hips back down. “Don’t stop,” he rasped hoarsely, yanking your hips back down. Just like that, his mouth was on your clit again, which was great except that you still hadn’t quite finished the last orgasm. The sudden rush of overstimulation before you could fully come down left you shaking, clawing wildly at his thighs, but your squirming got you nowhere, your hips firmly held in an iron grip.

Don’t stop. 

There wasn’t much you could do but follow the instruction. 

You moaned and began to suck clumsily at him, the velvet softness of his cock cradled gently on your tongue. The noise he let out was strangled and hoarse, almost pained, because this had to be too much for him, it had to be, and yet… he couldn’t resist starting to rock up instinctively against your mouth, a broken whimper breathed against your cunt when you managed to probe your tongue against the tip of him. You knew, distantly, remembered that you’d had this plan: if you did this fast enough, did this just right, using his senses to your benefit, you could make him come again. And, well, it had helped before, so you slipped on hand down between his legs again, grinding your finger hard against that spot inside him in steady waves, sucking harder at his cock just for the way it made him writhe. His head snapped back against the pillows, his hands dropping away from you to fist in the sheets. He brokenly cried out your name, his thighs trembling, but you didn’t care, your goal in sight. One of these days you were going to get your fingers inside him to see what noises he made then, and just to taunt him, you hooked and curled your fingers against his soft skin, your message clear. 

You weren’t sure who was more startled when he came—you, or him—but  either way, he did, his cock only half-hard at best as he snapped his hips up, his body locking up as he spilled into your mouth. He made a sound you’d never heard from him before, one part shout and one part high, hitching moan, the sounds rising falling with each jagged wave of pleasure you dragged him through, almost enough to hide the sound of tearing fabric. There wasn’t much left for his body to give, granted, but you still accepted those few drops anyway, swallowing them down with a satisfied moan as you milked him dry, massaging your fingers against his cock and that spot inside him to drag it out. You didn’t stop until his sounds grew pained, and even then it was a struggle. You had to force yourself to lift your head, sitting back against his chest. The sudden return of pressure against your clit made you whimper, your body shaking, because despite the overstimulation, as predicted he’d managed to shove you up far enough again that you were hanging right on the edge again, orgasm just a breath away.

“Matt,” you choked out, not even sure what it was you needed—his hand maybe, or even just for him to hold still so you could ride some part of him, be it his chest or his abdomen. One glance over your shoulder, however, let you unsure of what he might be able to give. 

Matt’s head was still thrown back on the pillow, his wet mouth hanging open as he panted, hair damp and sticking up in every direction. His eyes were glazed over and dark, absent any real awareness or thought. You knew that look. It was one you usually only saw when you’d really managed to fuck him senseless or leave him wrecked. He was out of it, his senses momentarily overloaded, out of order, come back later. You quickly pulled yourself off of him, just in case your weight over him had been unpleasant. He’d need some time to come back to himself, but fortunately, sitting here and staring at what you’d done—Matt Murdock, fucked out and drunk off your body—would be just the sort of visual you needed as you took care of yourself. You dropped one hand, sliding it between your legs until you could circle your clit with your fingertips, your lips parting on a satisfied moan. It wasn’t as good as Matt, but it was good enough.

Or… that’s what you thought you’d do, until Matt’s head snapped in your direction. His hand darted up, grabbing for you.

Except that he missed, his hand snatching at the empty air about two inches to your left.

“Matt,” you huffed shakily, using your other hand to take his. He probably just wanted to stay close, he usually did when you got him like this. “I’m-I’m fine, just, unh, gonna fini—Matt!” 

Your hand brushing against his had apparently been the compass he needed. You abruptly found yourself shoved back onto the bed with a grunt. He was on his hands and knees before you could blink, scrambling and groping around the bed to feel out how you’d fallen, his eyes burning and wild. The moment he made contact with you again, he shoved his head forward with a growl, mouthing at you, licking, biting at whatever skin he could find, which happened to be your ribs, the nip of his teeth sharp enough to make you cry out. You knew that you knew you’d have a mark there tomorrow, one to join the bruises on your hip. But it clearly wasn’t the part of you he’d been aiming for, and he snarled in clear frustration, swinging his head back and forth in a failed attempt to orient before he managed to find your hips with his hands. Your own hands wound up tangled in his hair as he dragged himself roughly over your legs, and fuck, if he was offering, you were happy to take it. You canted your hips, tugging at his hair to direct him. “Here!” you gasped, pushing his head down between your thighs. “Here, Matt, right—”

He buried his face sloppily against your cunt again, not a hint of shame or hesitation in him. His furious, messy lapping at your clit was exactly what you needed. The sound you made was raw and torn, almost a shriek as you suddenly got the stimulation you’d been looking for, your body tightening in rapid waves beneath his mouth. He caught your clit between his lips, growled, and sucked hard enough to have you seeing stars. That was it for you, your back arching as you fisted your hands tightly in his hair and came across his tongue, a flood of wetness drenching his face. With every pulsing wave of pleasure, he let out a satisfied little rumble, sucking in time with the rhythm of your body, dragging your orgasm out until the world burned white. The moment those waves began to ebb, he switched to broad flat licks along the entire length of your cunt, moaning and mindlessly drinking up every last drop, his eyes falling half closed in apparent bliss. 

Which was nice. Until your body started to request a break. 

“Matt,” you choked out, trying to shift away. He instinctively followed, blearily keeping his mouth latched onto your cunt, the pressure on your clit almost painful now. “Matt, that’s—fuck—I need a break, sweetheart, please! Matt!”

The sharp call of his name seemed to snap him out of it, and he finally let you go with a groan. He didn’t get very far, though. All he did was tip his head sideways until it landed on your thigh with a soft thump.  

You let yourself breathe for a minute, twitching now and then when an aftershock rolled through you. When you were feeling a little more able to focus, you finally lifted your head to glance at him. “That,” you wheezed, still panting, “was… we need to do that again. But in… in a while.”

He blinked slowly at you, blissed out and lazy as a lion who’d just had a meal. He hadn’t moved from your thigh, his face still shining and absolutely drenched. Then he grinned. The expression was so absolutely, drunkenly smug that you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “I take it you’re ok, then?” You snorted, reaching down to stroke your fingers down his wet cheek. 

He blinked at you again, and there was a brief delay before his head turned and he nudged affectionately at your hand. Sometimes when his senses got too overloaded after sex, he needed a few minutes without touch to come down. This time, however, it seemed like touch was what he wanted. 

“You wanna come up here and listen to my heartbeat until your senses are all back online?”

He seemed to think that over for a minute before he slowly started to drag himself up your body. He didn’t even bother to lift his head from you, simply dragging it along your skin as if he were loathe to lose the sensation of you against him. He only ran into a slight hiccup when he bumped into your breasts. He nosed around for a second, huffing briefly, before he found the space between them and continued on. “You’re drunk as hell,” you choked out a laugh, as he rubbed his ear fondly back and forth over your sternum, hunting for whatever spot sounded best. “You’re legitimately pussy drunk. God, I love you.” He finally selected his spot on your chest, his head dropping down to lay against it. The rest of him followed shortly thereafter as he settled down on top of you with a long groan of satisfaction. He rumbled out a contented sigh as you got your fingers in his hair, stroking through the sweat-soaked strands. One of his hands fumbled its way down to your hip. He kneaded clumsily at it, your affections very much returned. “Mhm. Love you, too.” 

“Little more coherent?” “Mm. You taste good.” “So do you. Don’t make me wait so long to get my mouth on you again.”

“Mhm,” he sighed. He absently licked his lips, before purring quietly, his eyes falling shut. “I promise. We’ll share.”

[cameronspecial]

At Her Beck And Call

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and Assault

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

Summary: Rafe may be out doing business, but he is never too busy for Y/N.

Masterlist

Everyone in the Outer Banks knows about Rafe’s explosive personality, especially towards the Pogues. The only person who is never at the wrong end of his anger is Y/N. He would never dare risk losing her by unleashing his anger on her. At the moment, she is safely at home, resting with their darling baby girl growing inside of her stomach. He is finishing up collecting the money from people who owe him from his drug dealer days. When he started dating Y/N, he stopped dealing less often; however, with a baby on the way, Rafe is ready to hang up the towel completely. Therefore, it is time for him to gather all the debts obligated to him. He finally tracks down the last person, Tanner Barrois. The Pogue is hiding out at a friend’s house but for enough money, anyone can betray their friend. Rafe bangs on the door as loud as he can and steps away from it. “What the fuck do you wan-” Tanner complains as he opens the door. Rafe gives him a wicked grin, “I want my fucking money, Asshole.” Tanner backs up into the house with his hands in the air. “I don’t have your money, but I can get it to you. I-I just need a few weeks,” he offers. Rafe shakes his head, “No, I already gave you three months. So where is my money?”

“I don’t have it!” 

Rafe grips the front of Tanner’s shirt and slams him against the wall. His arm cocks, rushing towards Tanner’s nose at a fast pace. The room is silent, except for the sounds of Rafe’s fist hitting Tanner, until “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran begins to play out of nowhere. Something vibrating accompanies the song. Rafe keeps Tanner against the wall with one hand, while his other hand goes into his pocket for his phone. He brings it to his ear with a soft smile, “Hi, Dumpling. How are you and little dumpling doing?” “I’m hungry, Rafey,” the pregnant woman whines with her hands on her perturbing stomach. He chuckles, “And what can I pick up for you on my way home, Dumpling?” “I want Trader Joe’s French Vanilla ice cream, soya sauce, pickles and mayo please,” she pleads into the phone. He grimaces, “Please, tell me you aren’t going to eat all of those together.” “I don’t know yet. I guess you’ll have to find out when you get here,” she teases, knowing he gets grossed out by her weird pregnancy cravings. He sighs, “I guess I will. I’ll get those for you once I’m finished with my business. Okay? I love you.” “Thank you. I love you too. Bye,” she hangs up without another word. 

The phone gets slipped back into his pocket and his attention returns to Tanner. “Now, where were we?” He punches Tanner again, shaking his hand out to try to rid himself of the blood. “I’m going to ask you again. Where is my money?” Rafe growls. Tanner whimpers, “I can get it to you by next week.” Tanner receives another blow to the head. “Not the answer I was looking for. So let’s try this once more,” Rafe warns, but he is again interrupted by the chime of his phone. “Is everything okay, Dumpling?” he worries into the speaker.

“It needs to be the tiny pickles. I don’t want the large ones. I don’t want the zig-zag cut ones or the straight-cut ones. I want the tiny ones. Okay?”

“Yes, I know, Dumpling. I promise they will be the tiniest ones I can find.” 

“Good, thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Dumpling. Goodbye.”

Tanner’s face is in a bloody smirk. “What the fuck are you smiling at?” Rafe questions, digging his forearm into the Pogue's neck. Tanner gasps out, “You are so whipped for her.” Rafe’s eyebrows cave in and he strikes Tanner’s stomach. “Be careful what you say next, Motherfucker,” Rafe alerts. Tanner appears to have a death wish as he says the next sentence, “That bitch has your balls in a death grip and it’s pathetic.” His phone rings once more before he can reply. “Dumpling, you are really making me concerned about you,” he sighs into the phone. She pouts, “I’m sorry. I just wanted something to drink too.” “It’s okay, Dumpling. I want you to stay hydrated. So what can I get you?” he inquires. “Iced tea, please. And I promise this will be the last time I’m going to call. I’m going to take a nap while I wait for you to come home.”

“Iced tea, coming right up. Enjoy your nap, Dumpling. I’ll see you when I get home. I love you.”

“I love you so much, Rafey. Thank you. I can’t wait for you to come home. Muah.”

The line goes dead and he can’t help but put his phone away with a massive grin on his face. He weakens his hold on Tanner, “You better be thanking the lord that I am whipped for my girl because it is the only reason I am giving you another day to get the money. Don’t try to run because I will find you and your punishment will be so much worse than you can imagine. Now, if you would excuse me, I have to go to Trader’s Joe.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[darnell-la]

What about Wade and Logan watching Vanessa and Reader pole dancing together and the boys getting all hot and bothered by watching?

note: overload — that’s all you guys need to know.

———

“Aren’t you excited!? Your long-time, short-time crush is going to dance in front of us tonight with my long-time and short-term fiancé,”

As soon as the two entered the bar, Wade couldn’t stop teasing Logan about the fact that this young lady he’s been crushing on for a while, will be dancing tonight.

“She just started yesterday, why would she already be on stage?” Logan sighed as he leaned back in his chair. “Maybe because she’s the hottest worker, right after my fiancé!?”

Logan glared at Wade, making him put his hands up in a surrendering passion.

“Look, don’t be grumpy all night. I wanna enjoy my butter pecan up there, alright? Good boy,” Wade patted Logan’s head before shouting out Vanessa's name to support her before she came up.

“That’s my girly pop!” Wade yelled out, making Vanessa chuckle as she danced on stage with y/n. Their session was almost done, and Logan felt drained. Watching y/n like this was going to be unforgettable tonight.

At first, he hated the idea of y/n being like this in front of so many men. That’s the reason why he came last second. Now he’s wishing he never did, with how hard and leaky he was from watching.

He couldn’t possibly go up to y/n without her knowing. She’d see the patch instantly. He cursed himself for being a perv.

“Hey, I’ll be right back,” Logan got up and quickly walked away before Wade could speak or anyone could see him cover himself up.

“Logan!? Wade sent me back here to come and get you! He said you’ve been all here for almost an hour,” y/n said as she made her way down the small hallway to the bathrooms.

After the show, it got dead, since people were only there to see the strippers of the night.

“Logan?” Y/n asked again, but he still didn’t hear her. He was too busy trying to focus on his release. “Logan, are you even here?” Y/n opened the men’s bathroom slowly, not really caring if she saw anyone else. She wanted to make sure Logan was alright if he was still here.

“Goddamnit,” y/n heard Logan grunt. She wanted to turn back around and leave, thinking he was having trouble using the bathroom until she saw one hand over the bathroom stall.

She squinted her eyes to take a better look, seeing how tight he was gripping the metal. The stall was bending in from how hard he gripped down.

“F-Fuck, just- Fuck, c’mon,” Logan groaned in annoyance, angry that he’s been going at this for what felt like days. He’s a mutant, so he should be able to last however long he pleased, but he wanted to release now. He’s never been this hard in his life.

“Logan?” Y/n said low, but surprisingly, he heard her this time. “Fuck-“ the man cut himself off and stopped instantly. “Y/n!?” The man panicked as he fixed himself up, but that was going to be hard.

He’s been leaking for who knows how long, and everything had made its way all over his hand. When he went to wipe his hand in his jeans, all it did was make him look worse.

“Yeah, I was just- I was just checking on. Wade told me to,” y/n said as she rubbed her fingers together, a bit embarrassed that she probably witnessed Logan, and an older adult jerking off in a bar bathroom.

“That motherfucker,” Logan mumbled as he began to buckle his pants. “I can, uh, leave if you’d like. I’m technically doing something illegal anyways,” y/n spoke about her being in the men’s bathroom. “No, no!- Just wait a second,”

Y/n stayed silent as she heard Logan groan in frustration and probably break a few things in the stall before he finally came out.

“Hey, Bub, uh, wassup?” Logan asked as he quickly walked over to the sink, not trying to make anything seem too obvious. “Just checking’ on ya,” y/n smiled as she scanned the man.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Logan?” Y/n felt the need to walk over to Logan, but slowly. “Yeah, Bub, just needed to take a leak, that’s all,” Logan lied as he turned around after drying his hands.

“Are you sure? You’re breathing a bit heavy, and-“ Y/n went on until she looked down at his lower body, seeing what his jeans looked like. They were basically drenched in one particular area.

Logan took a deep breath with his eyes closed, knowing he was caught and couldn’t lie his way out. He prayed she’d think he was just some man who needed to rub one out, but she kept asking him the right questions.

“First time watching the new modern women strip?” Y/n chuckled shyly as if wondering if this was even a joking situation. “You’re a funny one,” Logan chuckled as he fixed his shirt he noticed was sitting wrong.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed. Most men don’t know how to act when they see a pair of tits,” y/n joked, but that slightly bruised Logan’s ego.

“Seen enough tits in my life, Bub,” Logan said, right before he took a look down at her chest. “Oh, you have? Seems like a fun life,” y/n got a bit defensive at his response. She couldn’t believe it at first, but her response was out of jealousy.

“Ain’t too bad — As long as they come with a pretty face,” Logan said as he looked into her eyes with a head tilt. “Yeah,” was all y/n could say as she broke eye contact.

“You know you’re pretty, right?” Logan asked as he moved towards y/n, softly letting his hand rest on her waist. “Really?” Y/n asked, confidence suddenly being thrown out of the window.

“Oh, yeah — So damn pretty,” Logan placed his free hand on her cheek, slightly rubbing it as her eyes widened. “T-Thank you,” y/n stuttered, and all Logan could do was chuckle at how she got around him.

“Got me all worked up out there, hun. Didn’t know you could move like that,” Logan admitted. “That’s why they had me dance on my first day,” Y/n said, reminding Logan about that. “That doesn’t sit right with me, Bub. Don’t want you back here workin’ for a creep,”

“But Vanessa? She works here,” y/n said, but he some care. “That ain’t my girl, so what she does, doesn’t concern me,” Logan said, not wanting to sound rude, but he truly did not care about anyone else, but y/n.

“You, though? You’re my girl, and you didn’t tell me about this job — Wade had to,” Logan said as the hand on her waist tightened. “And, that doesn’t sit right with me,”

Y/n felt the need to apologize, thinking she did something terribly wrong, even though she didn’t. Only in Logan’s eyes, she did do something that would need some consequences.

“Gonna say anything before I do what I’ve been needing for the past two hours?” Y/n wanted to speak, but she couldn’t. She was curious about how far Logan would take this.

“C’mere,” Logan said as he pulled y/n into a bigger bathroom stall than the one he was in. Once he locked the door, he pushed y/n to her knees, making sure to keep eye contact with her soft eyes.

“Gonna need you to look at me just like that until I’m done, okay? Been stuck for the past hour with this shit,” Logan said as he reached into his jeans to pull himself out. He didn’t think about it, but y/n sure did once she saw his length.

He was long, harder than she’d ever seen anyone before, thick, veiny, and leaking more than an average human should be.

“Open up, Bub,” was all Logan said as he pushed at her lips with his tip. Y/n hesitated but soon opened up and took him in. She had stopped after a few inches, but he continued thrusting his hips until she was in as much as he thought she could take.

“Fuck, baby — This is exactly what I needed,” Logan rolled his eyes as he felt instant release. He knew he was close, but he wanted to last. “Stop gaggin, baby — Wanna last a bit longer,” Logan told y/n, but she couldn’t. He was too huge.

“Bub, I said- Oh my god,” Logan grew angry, but soon whined as her throat collapsed around his shaft. “Fuck, I can’t hold it, Bub. So damn wet and warm- Fuck,” was all Logan said before his cock twitched.

Y/n couldn't help but look up at Logan to watch him lose himself in her mouth. The main she let out as he spilled into her mouth, made him groan louder, and tighten his grip on her hair.

“Goddamnit, I’m gonna cum again-“ Logan struggled to say as his legs shook, and a second orgasm ripped from him. Y/n’s eyes widen as more cum filled her mouth, so much that his seed leaked out of her mouth. There was too much to take.

“Nah uh, swollen it all, or I make you walk out with it on your face,”

[carmenberzattosgf]

🌝 i’m a cream pie truther but jealous!carmy cumming on your face to mark what’s his…….. it does something to be!!! “look so fucking beautiful like this, yeah? all mine. no one else gets to see you like this.” bonus points if he licks himself off your lips before kissing you!!

I am. Clawing at the walls.

Carmy’s with you at a bar. He always goes with you because he sure as hell doesn’t want you going without him there. It’s not his scene though, so he normally just stays seated in a booth keeping an eye on you while you dance with some friends.

However, this night some random guy he’s never seen before comes up to you. Carmy tries to keep his cool for a bit, watching as you seemingly turn the guy down. He doesn’t take the hint, and tries to grab your waist to get you to dance.

That’s when Carmen jumps up out of his seat and stomps over to you, pushing the guy away. The other man is a solid few inches taller than Carmy is, but he couldn’t give less of a fuck. No one touches what’s his.

“Any reason why you’re laying hands on my girl?” Carmy’s voice takes on the tone that he only uses in the kitchen when shit hits the fan.

“Sorry man, didn’t realize she was taken. My bad.”

“Maybe next time when a woman says no, fucking listen to her, asshole.” Carmen replies, ushering you towards the door. He needs to get you home before he loses his mind.

As soon as you’re through the door his apartment, Carmy sits down on the couch. “Get on your knees,” he rasps. He doesn’t waste any time to free himself from his jeans and boxers.

You act before he can, wrapping your palm around the length of his cock. A sharp groan escapes him before he slaps your hand away.

“What? Thought you wanted me to suck your cock?” It’s not like Carmy has ever turned down the chance to get blown before.

“Just want you to sit there and look pretty for me? Can you do that?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good girl,” he replies. The next moment his right hand extends in front of your mouth. “Spit.” Carmen didn’t have you ask twice. You let a glob of spit fall from your lips onto his open palm. He immediately wraps that hand around his thick hard cock, stroking himself slowly.

You watch as Carmy gets himself off in front of you. He’s deliberate in the way he touches himself. His hand moves at a consistent pace, squeezes just a little bit at the tip with every stroke. Precum dribbles from the tip of his cock. The sight is fucking erotic.

Carmy’s just talking away, too. Words of praise fall from his lips as he looks at you.

“You’re so fucking pretty. And you’re all mine.”

“Shit— see how much I’m leaking? ‘Cus of you. So beautiful sitting at my feet watching me.”

“You’re getting off on this aren’t you? You’re squeezing your thighs together. You like seeing me do this?”

“That motherfucker wishes he could have you like this. I got you first though, didn’t I? My pretty pretty girl.”

When Carmy cums, it’s all over your face. He doesn’t even try to aim it anywhere else, no. He wants your face to be covered in his cum. He reached over to his discarded jeans, pulling out his phone from one of the pockets to snap a picture of you. “Gotta have something to remember this. My girl with my cum all over her face. So fucking beautiful.”

Carmy pulls you up for a kiss right after he takes his photo. He holds your face in his hands, one of which is still covered with spit and cum, and licks himself off of your lips. It’s only then when you’re “cleaned up” that he smashes his lips against yours.

[babbymochiiii]

🔞 Discord: PARK JISUNG

SYNOPSIS: you and jisung have discord date night, where things take a turn.

WARNINGS: established relationship idol! jisung x afab reader, pleasuring yourself while on a discord call with jisung, jisung being a dom bc yes, jisung commanding you on how to pleasure yourself, fingering, handjob, slight cum play? Idk if it would be call that but it’s something like that, squirting?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: divider credit @cafekitsune 🧡 I’m so down bad for Jisung that is fucking shows and I’m not complaining—! Also, a big thank you to my babes @rockstarhaechan for encouraging this fic 😖💜 bc it would've been sitting in the back of my head for the longest.

“He’s camping! He’s camping!” You heard your boyfriend yell down his mic as you both were in the middle of a fight in the video game you were both playing.

“HE GOT ME!? HELLO?” You yelled down your mic this time as you stared at your monitor in disbelief seeing your characters death screen.

“This is bs.” You mumbled as you leaned back against your chair as you waited for Jisung to finish out the battle.

After the game was over, you and Jisung sat in the lobby of the game, talking softly amongst yourselves.

“How did you die?” Jisung snickered as he looked at his Discord monitor and watched you roll your eyes with a smile at his question.

“Babe, literally was going where you told me, and the motherfucker came out of nowhere like—“

To be fair, Jisung has been pent up with a lot, and I mean a lot, of sexual energy that he couldn’t even help himself but zone out to what you were saying and watch the way you animatedly recounted what happened to you in the game.

He looked at the way your lips formed their syllables. He thought about how they could be wrapped around his cock in this very second. Thought about the time you cock warmed him while he was playing a few rounds of games on his pc. Remembering the way you failed to stay still as he tried to concentrate on the intense game in front of him. All it took was one small whimper to fall out of your lips for him to fully lose focus on the game, and shifting it towards you.

"Ji please fuck me."

You said it with the most saddest pout and puppy eyes, how could he not give what you wanted.

Without realizing, Jisung started to stroke himself through his shorts, causing a shuddered breath to leave his lips and land straight into your ears causing you to stop talking and look towards your monitor.

You watched the way Jisung's face flushed it's pretty pink, along with the tips of his ears. You kept your eyes trained on his chest, seeing how it rapidly rises and falls down, as if he ran a marathon.

As if...

"Ji, what are you doing?" You asked suspiciously, even though you had a feeling you knew what your beloved boyfriend is doing right now.

He ignored you. Jisung's eyes were close at this point, completely lost in the ecstasy his touch is bringing him through his shorts.

You bit your lips as you watched Jisung become completely loss in his own pleasure. You couldn't help but join him, because the sight of your boyfriend pleasuring himself turns you on completely.

You propped your feet up on your chair, and moved your flimsy shorts along with your underwear to the side. You greedily sought out your swollen clit, and the moment you placed your fingers on it, a moan slips past your lips.

This causes Jisung to flutter his eyelids open. The man looks towards his second monitor on his desk and sees the display you have for him on your camera.

“Fuck.” Jisung mumbled out as he saw the way you played with your clit. His hungry gaze follows the way your greedy fingers slide down your slicked folds. The action causes the two of you to moan out loud seeing the way the camera captures it.

"What are you doing princess?" Jisung asked sweetly, but still holding that bedroom undertone. "Couldn't help yourself could you?" He muses as he leans forward in his chair.

A whimper leaves your throat as you look towards Jisung's camera. "I couldn't...you were touching yourself and you looked so good " You said softly with a pout, into your headset mic as you leaned your head back in your chair.

A hum of acknowledgement made it's way out of Jisung's throat as a smile that held all sorts of promises. "Princess?" He calls out to you, all too softly.

The tone of his voice causes chills to run down your spine, as you knew that tone very well. Jisung uses that tone on you when he is about to command you to do something.

"Yes?" You spoke timidly.

"Stop what you're doing." Jisung commanded with the same soft smile and tone with you.

You slowly removed yours hands from your heated core, and awaited for what Jisung will say next.

"Such a good girl." Jisung cooed to you.

You felt your heart pick up an even faster speed than it was before, and you were honestly scared at how turned on you are over what you and Jisung are doing, considering you have never done this before.

“Ji, please—“

“Shh, baby take it easy, yeah?” Jisung said as he gave you a smile as he got up from his seat.

What came in view was the raging hard on in his shorts. Instantly the sight of the tent made your mouth water as you knew he was going to bring his pants down. I mean he has to right? In order to—

All thought process stopped the moment Jisung hooked this thumbs into his waist band and pulled down his shorts and underwear in one go.

A whimper leaves your throat at the sight of his hard length hanging in the air, pre cum glistening off of his pretty pink head. You bit your lip, trying to hold back another moan from slipping your lips.

“Enjoying the view?” Jisung teased as he settled back into his chair.

You slowly nodded your head before adding; “very much.”

Another hum of acknowledgment left his throat as he assessed you through the screen.

“Strip.”

There was your command. Quickly, you gently got up from your seat and discarded the clothes you were wearing. Once fully naked, you sat back onto your chair and awaited for what Jisung wanted you to do next.

"You're so beautiful princess." Jisung praised as he licked his lips at the sight of your naked form.

A shiver runs down your spine at his praise and the way he looks at you. "Prop your legs as you had them before." Jisung said as he leaned himself back on his chair, and spread his legs open. Creating a better view for you.

Doing as told, you managed to have your legs hanging off of your chair’s arm rest, displaying your sopping wet folds.

Jisung raised an amused eyebrow at the sight before him. “Are you that turned on right now?” He teased. He couldn’t help but tease, it just made the whole situation that much hotter.

“Ji…” your whimpered as you clenched your hands on top of your chest.

“Use your big girl words.”

“Yes! Yes, I’m that turned on right now.” You said as you felt your face heat up.

“Good.” Jisung said with a smirk. “Touch yourself for me.”

Without a second thought, your hand went down and immediately made contact with your swollen clit. You started to leave harsh and fast circles. Whimpering moans leave your throat at the delicious stimulation.

“Slow down princess. There’s no need to rush.” Jisung said as he started to slowly tug at his hot length.

You whimpered in protest, but still did what he asked as you knew it would benefit you in the end. You looked intently at Jisung’s screen and watched at how he slowly pumped himself into his fist. Wanting to be good for him, you matched up with his pace.

Whimpered and throaty moans leave both your mouths as you both continued with the slow pace that Jisung made.

You were close to wanting to just disobey what Jisung ordered. You wanted more stimulation for yourself and for Jisung, but you knew the consequences he would put out for you if you did do such a thing.

“Princess?” Jisung calls out, his voice groveled due to the pleasure.

“Y-yes?” You stuttered out.

“Why don’t you add a finger, hm?”

As if the gods themselves spoke, you let out a moan at his words and you slowly inserted a finger inside of your awaiting entrance. As you went past your first knuckle, a sigh of content is heard from you. You pushed the rest of your finger inside of you, and moaned at the feeling of at least having something inside of you.

Jisung swears he has hearts for eyes at this point. He always loved seeing you so submissive and obedient for him, but this. This takes the cake for him. Subconsciously, Jisung tightened his grip slightly and started to pump at a much faster rate than he was before. “Fuck, babe—“ he moans out as he bits his lips trying to hold in the moans that want to leave his mouth, “—you look so pretty like that.” Jisung groaned out.

A pretty moan left your lips at his words and the way he started to pump himself at such a fast pace. You started to follow his lead, pumping and rubbing your clit at a fast pace as him, creating such a delicious feeling.

“Ji…feels so— mmgh, so good.” You moaned out as you felt your eyes close in pleasure.

“Princess, shit— add another finger for me.” Jisung said as he twisted his fist around his head causing him to buck his hips up.

Adding another finger into your sopping hole made your toes curl and eyes roll to the back of your head.

The two of you continue pleasuring yourselves I. Front of each of your cameras. Moans and whimpers leaving your mouths as you continue to chase your highs.

Squelching sounds are heard through your mic, that goes straight to Jisung’s cock causing him to want to loose his control completely. “Princess you sound so wet.” He groans as he continues to pump himself.

“S-so wet for you Sungie.” You moaned as you removed your fingers from inside of you and played with your entrance, causing string of wetness to connect between your fingers and sopping entrance.

Jisung bit the inside of his cheeks at the provocative sight displayed on his screen. “You’re such a mess baby.” Jisung said in awe as he saw how much slick was covering your entire pussy and inner thighs.

You inserted your fingers inside again and started to finger fuck yourself in a fast pace. “J-Ji…please—“ a moan cuts you off at the intense sensation starting to build up in your lower belly.

“It’s okay baby. Cum. I need you to come with me. I’m so close princess.” Jisung groans at the end as bucks his hips forward, fucking into his hand at how close he’s at right now.

As the intense feeling in your lower stomach started to build up, you started to chant Jisung’s name like the mantra that he is. “I’m so close…so mmgh! Ahh— so close—“ you couldn’t even form your sentence as you felt like exploding.

“Me too baby…me too.” Jisung moaned as he felt his thighs spasm and his balls slightly tighten up, getting ready to release their load.

“Ji, I’m—“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence before a loud moan breaks through. You felt your back arch off of your seat as you clenched around your fingers. Slick squirted out of you as you continued to finger fuck yourself through your high.

“Princess, mmgh.” Jisung said with one last groan as he bucked his hips up into his tight fist one last time before shots of hot cum started to shoot out. His stomach clenched as he started to release the last of his load onto his hand, and stomach. Gently pumping himself to go through his post organism high.

The two of you sat panting on your chairs. Eyes barely open as you assess the others state.

A smile adorn’s Jisung’s face as he looks at you. This causes you to giggle as you knew what he was thinking of.

“That was hot.” You both said causing the other to laugh.

“Well, at least I know we’re both into this, so we can do it while I’m on tour and away from you.” Jisung said as he gave you a fucked out smile.

This causes you to send him a smile his way. “Oh we’re for sure doing this again.”

“Count on it princess.” Jisung said with a smirk.

From then on, the two of you would do these little discord or FaceTime calls to get off together when none of y’all had the time to see one another.

a/n: this has been sitting on my mind for a whileeeee and I finally have it written down and out for y’all!!! Hopefully y’all enjoyed it!!

Much love and kisses 🥰

[pinkslipxox]

Seven Minutes in Heaven:

Summary: At a party you’re dared to go inside a closet with Billie where she confesses her feelings for you

Warnings: fluff 🙃

————————————————————————

Lively chatter and laughter echoed throughout the house as you stepped inside. People greeted you with smiles and friendly embraces. Yet your eyes were searching for your best friend, Billie, who had said that she was attending tonight���s party.

“Y/N!” the familiar sound of Odessa’s voice caught your attention. She gestured for you to come over. As you stepped closer, you could see that she was not alone. Sat on the couch with her were Claudia, Finneas, Zoe, and Billie.

“Hey, guys!” you greeted them.

“Here, Y/N. Take my spot,” Finneas said as he moved up to sit at the arm of the couch. With a smirk, Billie patted the now open space next to her, and you sat down.

“Hey, you. Glad you could make it,” Billie murmured softly as she wrapped your arm around your shoulder, giving you a one-armed hug.

“Thanks. I am, too,” you said with a smile.

It was actually Billie who had invited you to the party. While it wasn’t in your plans to go out tonight, you decided to go. It was also saw excuse for you to see her and spend time with her.

In a perfect world, Billie wouldn’t just be your best friend. You saw her more than just that. But never in a million years would you ever say it to her face. She’s Billie motherfucking Eilish. She’s already sought after by so many, more beautiful and attractive and interesting than you… why would she pursue you in the first place?

“How about we play Truth or Dare?” a partygoer slurs, whom you were unfamiliar with, and everyone either nodded or verbally voiced their opinion. A few other people who were nearby joined in, forming a small group around the couch.

“Alright.” Billie rubbed her hands together, her eyes glowing with a mixture of excitement and mischief. “Who wants to go first?”

The first few truths or dare consisted of Finneas drinking liquor out of someone’s boot, a guy and girl kissing, Zoe reading a salacious text message she sent thirty minutes ago, and Odessa revealing who she would kill, kiss and marry from the group.

“Y/N, truth or dare?” Finneas asked with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Dare,” you replied, surprising both yourself and the group.

Finneas smirked. “I dare you to go inside the closet with Billie for seven minutes.”

“What?” you gasped, feeling the color drain from your face. You swore that you were hearing things. At first you thought that Finneas was joking, but his smug expression said otherwise.

“Finneas!” Billie and Claudia exclaimed in perfect unison.

“It’s not funny,” Billie chided, slapping her brother’s arm.

“It’s just a dare, chill,” he defended between laughs. He then looked at his sister. “Unless you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” she snapped. If looks could kill, Finneas would be lying dead on the floor by now. She then stood up and looked at you, her eyes looking directly at yours with an intensity that almost left you without air.

Slowly, you nodded and stood up. A chorus of laughs and jeers from the group filled the air as the both of you made your way to the closet. Your heart was beating out of your chest. The door closed shut with a soft click of the lock. Billie was staring at you, biting her lip, and she took a cautious step forward.

“Billie, wait…” you began but Billie gently shushed you.

“Calm down, Y/N,” Billie murmured, her hands firmly on her shoulders. “I’m not going to do anything if you don’t want me to. In a way, Im glad this happened. I need to talk to you about something.”

“Alright,” you said softly. She then outstretched her hands, her ocean blue eyes silently pleading for you to take them, and you did. They were warm and comforting, and it made your heart flutter.

Billie took a deep breath before speaking. “I’ve had my eye on you for a while now, Y/N. And… I know you’ve had your eye on me, too.” She stood a bit straighter, keeping her composure yet the nerves were still evident in her eyes. “If you let me, Id love to take you out sometime. But that’s only if you want to.”

You were so stunned you couldn’t speak. In all your years of friendship, you had never seen Billie so vulnerable until now. Her confession made your heart swell and relief washed over you knowing that the feeling was mutual between you and Billie.

“Say something, Y/N, you’re making me nervous,” Billie chuckles awkwardly and you smile at her.

“I’d love to, Billie,” you said happily, making Billie visibly relax. Ever so gently, she pulled you into her, her hands on either side of your waist. “Why didn’t you ever say anything before?”

She chuckled softly. “I was scared. And everytime I tried to flirt with you in the past, you took it as a joke. So I stopped. I always thought you just saw me as a friend.”

“Oh, Billie…” you murmured, wrapping your arms around her neck.

“One minute, guys!” Odessa yelled from the other side of the door, causing the both of you to laugh.

“Only one minute left… what to do?” Billie mused, her tone playful, brushing her nose against yours.

You smirked. “I can think of something.”

“Oh, yeah?” Billie’s smirk mirrored yours as you slowly leaned in and closed the small gap between the two of you.

The kiss was soft and tender, speaking all the words of your newfound love for each other in a single gesture. Billie deepened the kiss as she held you tighter, her warm tongue brushing over your lip, and you parted your lips ever so slightly. But she didn’t dive into the opportunity, instead she trailed kisses along your jawline, and you moaned softly. Your eyes fluttered closed as she went down your neck, your collarbone, her hand delicately kneading your ass—

“Time’s up!” Finneas’ voice pierced through the blissful moment, making the two of your jump. Yet the two of your laughed, gently pressing your foreheads together.

Billie rolled her eyes playfully. “That jerk.”

“That went faster than I thought,” you said with a giggle, and Billie chuckled as she pulled away from you slightly. She kissed your forehead, letting her lips linger there for a moment before steaming another quick kiss from you.

“We’ll finish this later, baby,” she promised with a wink, and you couldn’t help but blush.

[dreamskug]

[ SUBJECT INTERVIEW: ÍVARR ]

NICKNAME:

NOT "Gramps". Not for you, anyway. Just my name.

GENDER:

Male.

STAR SIGN:

Why, checking if we’d match? Hah. Was told I’m a Scorpio. 'That check out?

HEIGHT:

With platforms or without?

ORIENTATION:

If we vibe, nothing else matters. An incubus with neat taste in personalities, I guess.

NATIONALITY / ETHNICITY:

So, some Scandinavian blood in me - half, actually. Can speak the language, too - 'least something neat daddy gave me, not that the fucker's outdone himself in parenting. Mom’s an American, born in Badlands. Ever heard of her clan? Messed with witchcraft a lot, and summoning even more. Know what I’m getting at? A perfect fuckin' match, weren't they?

FAVE FRUIT:

- Yeah no. Don't even start with anything citrus. Especially don't peel this shit in front of me, alright? Nasty shit. [Interviewer]: - Just wondering, how do you feel about cardboard boxes? [Ívarr] : - Ain't purring for you, man. But nice one.

FAVE SEASON:

Fuck summer. You ever felt what's that like - the real winter nights? Pitch fuckin' dark - quiet so thick you hear the snow falling. First time I saw those snowflakes as a kid - can swear I thought they were bees.

FAVE FLOWER:

Cherry blossoms? The fuck I know, man. Ask my mainline, I grab whatever he likes.

FAVE SCENT:

Expecting me to be like - "Muahaha, the smell of fear"? Seriously, it's apparently a pheromone released in your sweat or some shit. C'mon I'm joking, it isn't my fav - keeps stinking up this damn city. Alright, a freshly baked cake is something I'd kill for.

COFFEE, TEA, HOT CHOCOLATE:

Yeah coffee I guess? Rich, strong, black, with a splash of something fun, make it whiskey.

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP:

Woke up just yesterday 'cause my mainline was pulling back my eyelid, imagine? Scared the fuck out of him, no seriously, can sleep through a fuckin' bomb and I'm not joking. Average hours - a shitton honestly? That's how I got my very first cat - Dad got enough of me breaking down every single morning, cause fuck mornings. And he'd be like - this is Snowy, she's gonna live with us and she already had her breakfast, so get the fuck up. How'd I argue with Snowy? You don't mess with Snowy.

DOG OR CAT PERSON:

See? Check it out - cat fur. Here too. I'm claimed, man - gave up cleaning it up a long time ago. Not to be dramatic, but if there's anything human in me left - it's for them. Fur kids, all mine, what can I say. Two of them adopted - and you bet each of them has a bigger personality than an average gonk.

DREAM TRIP:

Dream trip, jeez... Somewhere not fucking hot?

FAVE FICTIONAL CHARACTER:

Balrog has style, y'know? Gotta be honest, I feel for the dude. Imagine yourself sleeping deep within the mountains for thousands of years to get awoken by a bunch of motherfuckers? I'd go nuclear too. And this one too, ehh you know GoT? The Targaryen, her, yeah. Burn them all, girl. Boss move.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS YOU SLEEP WITH:

Man, your questions. I dunno, a half? With my ass covered, or not at all. Bed king sized, lights out, make it pitch black with the window open and you got me passed out.

RANDOM FACT:

One doesn't have to actually summon a demon to get them to come play, d'you know? There's one watching you through my eyes right fuckin' now. Should I introduce him?

Late to the party, but I remember many of y'all have more than one OC or just created new pixel babies that haven't participated yet, so I'm tagging (with no pressure):

@therealnightcity @wraithsoutlaws @sammysilverdyne @theviridianbunny @th3irin

@a-pirate @chessalein @halkuonn @luvwich @shimmer-like-agirl

@kdval @cybersteal @cyberholic77 @chevvy-yates @morganlefaye79

@anxious--ace @mhbcaps @wormskul @silver-samurai @androgymess

@winkyblinkyandstew @astarionhistears @valsilverhand @drunkchasind @themermaidriot

@pinkyjulien @skelior @medtech-mara @lokiina @timaeusterrored

@tokyofuturnoir @aggravateddurian @sifofasgard @elfjpeg @aurorartz

@lucky38-2077 @dustymagpie @gloryride @stannussy and anyone else who wants to! Also pls DM me if you don't wanna get tagged🖤

[ninzied]

and that's how it works

a co-worker au. based on the prompt: kiss out of spite. ~2.4k.

Alex can’t stand him from the start.

He tries not to actively dislike any co-workers, as a general rule. It takes effort, and time, neither of which he wants to spend on this guy—unless said work has been affected, which, Alex has to admit that it hasn’t.

But there’s something about him that rubs Alex the wrong way the moment they get introduced.

He’s hard-working, Alex supposes, and the quality of the work isn’t lacking. He’s punctual, and to-the-point in his emails. None of those things are an issue. He does make a habit of helping himself to Alex’s office supplies, but a few missing staples and running out of printer paper don’t exactly justify a grudge.

The guy’s personality is, objectively, annoying. He has the worst taste in ties, which to Alex says a lot, and he can’t go more than five minutes without alluding to his pedigree in some way (Alex knows this because he and Nora have made a drinking game out of it at work functions).

Still, it doesn’t explain the weird surge of resentment he gets every time he looks at the guy. And not understanding it might be the most annoying part of all.

He just wishes he knew why.

.

Alex works in the legal department, but the coffee’s way better in HR down the hall, so most mornings he’s using their break room. Most mornings, and at lunchtime too, and in the afternoons more than once until Nora starts cutting him off, which. Fair.

Apparently he’s not the only one who’s discovered HR’s superior coffee, though, because he’s always there too, and always at the same time as Alex. Seriously, can he not? It’s bad enough that they share a cubicle. Now Alex has to suffer the insult of watching him fucking microwave his coffee like some kind of sociopath, too?

“Are you following me?” Alex demands to know one morning, a little ridiculously. He’s aware that HR is not the best place to be throwing accusations around, but he’s kind of had it with this guy. “Because—”

At that exact moment, the door is opening, and Henry Fox is walking into the room.

“Oh, hey,” says Alex.

Henry glances at him the way he always does, that is to say, a little bemused as to what Alex is doing here. But Henry had been his point person when he was hired six months ago, so he must know Alex works here, right? Besides, he’s been coming to drink their coffee every day of those past six months now, and he knows Henry knows this because their breaks usually overlap and the way Henry barely says two words to him half the time is starting to feel kind of personal.

“It’s Alex,” says Alex, because, well, just in case.

“Yes, I’m aware,” says Henry. After a beat that’s long enough to get awkward, he says, “Err. Right then.”

And then he smiles and waves at Hunter, who isn’t even supposed to be here either, and walks over to take the seat Hunter has saved him like they’re all in fucking high school.

Hunter says something smarmy about a new art gallery or what-the-fuck-ever he went to last night, using a slightly too-loud voice that’s clearly meant to be overheard. Alex grits his teeth.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to go,” says Henry. “What did you think?”

Alex scowls. Fuck, he fucking hates Hunter.

.

“So how’s the transfer going?” asks Hunter one day.

Alex jerks involuntarily and splashes hot coffee all over his hand. “Motherfucker,” he says, and then, because his filter is fully shot now anyway, he glances over at Henry. “You’re transferring? Like, jobs?”

“Oh. Um. No. Departments,” says Henry. Alex supposes that’s all he’s getting—four whole words must be some kind of record—but then Henry continues. “To editing. Starting first thing next week.”

“Oh,” says Alex. “Cool. That’s…a big move.” Literally. That’s, like, whole floors away. He opens the freezer door with his good hand, and wonders what the coffee tastes like up there in editing, if it would be weird to find out sometime. He grabs a fistful of ice.

“Yes,” Henry is saying. “It will be quite the change, and I—wait. Sorry.” He stands abruptly, and Alex stares in surprise as Henry comes over and stops right in front of him. “Please put the ice down.”

“Um,” says Alex. “O…kay?”

“You should use lukewarm water,” says Henry. “Cool, at best. For your hand.”

“Oh,” says Alex. “Right. Thanks.” He turns to the sink, feeling weirdly aware of the fact that Henry is still standing there. “It’s too bad,” Alex says before Henry can decide to sit down next to Hunter again. “Kind of a big loss for HR.”

Henry’s brows knit back together. “Is it?”

Alex shrugs. “To my knowledge, no one else personally escorts new employees to their cubicles on the first day of work. Like you did with Hunter here, for example.” He levels Henry with a grin. “I was there when you showed him around, in case you don’t remember.”

Henry’s expression is inscrutable. “I do,” he says.

Alex makes a point to not look away. “Guess that wasn’t a thing back when I started.”

“Ah,” says Henry. He’s flushing for some reason now. “No, I suppose not.”

Alex considers him. He can’t decide if Henry’s playing dumb, or if he really doesn’t remember that he’d been the one to help hire Alex. Then he decides he doesn’t care, because both options make him feel like something on the bottom of Hunter’s shoe, which he hates.

“Think I’m gonna head back.” Alex looks expectantly at Hunter, who only lifts his mug like he’s still planning on being a while. Fucking fine.

He can still see the two of them through the glass pane in the door when Nora walks by with a stack of folders.

“You okay?” she asks, in a tone that says she’s guessed the answer.

“Fucking no,” says Alex anyway. “What are they even doing? Talking?”

Nora sneaks a peek through the window. “Appears so,” she deadpans. “Talking in the break room. Unbelievable.”

“I know, right?” Alex scowls, then realizes he’s left without his coffee, which makes him scowl even harder.

Nora sighs, then slips her free arm through his. “Let’s walk.”

“Do you think Hunter likes him?” asks Alex. Because—not that he’s spent a lot of time on this—Alex thinks that Hunter does, and nothing is worse than the thought of Henry liking him back because he doesn’t know any better.

Maybe Alex should say something.

Nora is looking sideways at him. Alex isn’t sure why. “I think what Hunter likes is people with a pedigree,” she says. “Anyway, what’s not to like? Henry’s a snack.”

“What?” says Alex. Objectively, Henry looks a bit like an Adonis, but, “That is so beside the point. And just because Hunter’s like Harvard royalty or whatever doesn’t give him the right to come in here and trick people into liking him when—”

“When you were here first?” Nora supplies.

“What?” Now Nora is really missing the point. “This has nothing to do with me, or with Henry. I just meant, like, you know. In general.”

“Right,” says Nora. “I must have misunderstood.”

.

Alex keeps going back to the break room, of course. The coffee’s still better, and he can keep bothering Nora even though she’s transferring soon too (to marketing two floors down, the traitor). None of those things have changed just because Henry is no longer there every day.

The one thing that does change, Alex notices with a dark kind of satisfaction, is that Hunter does not go back to the break room. In fact, he starts bringing his own coffee each morning (Starbucks, which seems very on-brand). If anything, Alex only has more reason now to escape to HR and not spend any more time around Hunter than necessary.

About a week after Henry’s transfer, Alex realizes he’s used the last of the break room’s cinnamon. Again. Goddamn it, he thinks. He’s just spent the morning in back-to-back meetings, he’s getting his coffee hours later than usual, and now this?

He rifles through the cupboards for a second and then a third time just in case there's a rogue bottle somewhere. “Fuck me,” he mutters.

“What’s the occasion?” comes a voice from the door, and Alex turns to find Henry leaning against it. His arms are crossed, and he’s doing that chin-tilty thing that apparently means Alex has zero control over what comes out of his mouth.

“What are you doing here?” Alex blurts.

Henry raises an eyebrow. “I could’ve been asking you the same thing for the past six months or so, but I haven’t.” He uncrosses his arms and comes over. “Would you believe me if I said I came here for the coffee?”

“No,” says Alex, with absolute certainty. “You don’t drink coffee.”

Henry blinks. “I could,” he argues after a moment, then straightens a little. “In fact, maybe I planned to start today.”

“Uh huh.” Alex gestures for him to have at the machine. “Do you even know how to use it?”

“Can’t be that difficult,” says Henry. He gives the machine a dubious look, and Alex doesn’t mean to but he starts to laugh.

“Here, I got it. Was about to make some for myself anyway.”

“Ah.” Henry looks abashed suddenly. Even the tips of his ears have turned pink. “Suppose you’ll be wanting this, then.” He pulls a ground cinnamon bottle from his pants pocket.

Alex shakes his head in disbelief. He could actually kiss Henry right now. “How did you—?”

“Well, you were running low last I was here,” says Henry, like that’s a totally normal thing to have noticed when Alex has never seen him touch the spice rack once. “Figured you'd be out by now, so I nicked some from the break room upstairs. No one’s been using it there anyway.”

The shock on Alex’s face makes him backtrack. “Sorry,” he says, flushing an even deeper pink now. “I—didn’t know you’d be here. You’re usually, um. Earlier. I can return it, if you’d like.” He says all this in a rush.

“No, it’s great,” Alex says emphatically. “Don’t you dare take it back.” He’s still staring a little, but that can’t be helped. Henry knows how he likes his coffee. And Henry had planned to restock the cinnamon without Alex ever knowing.

Henry clears his throat, looking around them. “You didn’t bring Hunter with you today,” he notes.

“No,” says Alex immediately. “God, no. And I don’t bring him anywhere, he just. Shows up. Honestly, I can’t stand the guy.” Shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that.

“Oh, thank Christ,” Henry says, looking immensely relieved. “Now that I don’t work in HR anymore, can I just say how little I enjoy his company?”

This is way better news than when Henry had first reached out to Alex with his offer letter and starting salary. He grins. “You can. In fact, please say more.”

Henry looks rueful. “I really shouldn’t.”

“It’s just that—” Alex sobers a little. “He was the only person you seemed willing to talk to.”

“It was easier, for me.” Henry takes a breath. “I feel less shy around people whose opinion of me doesn’t matter as much.” He pauses, something meaningful in the way he looks sidelong at Alex now. “I do want to be better about it.”

Alex nods, considering this. He tries hard not to smile. Probably not hard enough. “I can work with that.”

.

“You do realize neither of you work in this department,” says Nora, pulling food from the fridge.

Henry sips the tea Alex has just made him. Coffee, turns out, had been a lost cause. They’re both leaning against the counter, elbows not-quite-touching but getting closer to it every day, by Alex’s estimation.

“Do any of us, at this point?” Henry muses.

Nora shrugs. “Fair.”

“Just don’t tell You Know Who,” says Alex.

“Who’s You Know Who?” Hunter asks from the doorway. He has a confused smile on his face as he looks from Henry to Alex back to Henry again. Normally the sight of Hunter fills Alex with the most profound irritation, but now he’s feeling kind of pleased.

That’s right, he thinks smugly at Hunter: Henry is mine.

Huh. Suddenly things make a lot more sense now.

“Hey, did you get my email about the museum opening this Friday?” Hunter asks Henry, and Alex bristles instantly. Did Hunter not get the look Alex just gave him?

“Ah,” says Henry awkwardly, and it would be endearing if he didn’t also look so deeply uncomfortable. His awkwardness now is so different from the bashful kind of awkward he used to be around Alex; honestly, Alex can’t believe he’d never been able to tell between the two until now. “Actually, I’m—”

“Going,” says Alex, “already. With me.”

Henry looks at him in happy surprise. “Really?”

“Really,” Alex says firmly. And then, because he likes how dumbstruck Hunter looks right now, and because Henry doesn’t pull away when Alex puts an arm around his shoulders and he really, really likes that too, he does the only thing left that makes sense to him, which is to lean in and kiss Henry. He kind of feels like he might die when Henry kisses him back.

Fuuuuuuck.

Henry’s eyes are still closed when Alex leans back. He’s dimly aware that Nora has shooed Hunter out and closed the door behind them. He’s more acutely aware of how Henry licks his lips, then opens his eyes with an oddly vulnerable expression and says, “Alex, please tell me you didn’t just kiss me for Hunter’s benefit.”

“What? No. I mean—not exactly.” Fuck. Why can’t he use only the words that he needs? “The answer’s still no, but I might’ve used it as an excuse if I’d kissed you like two weeks ago. But that’s not why I kissed you just now, and it’s not why I’m going to kiss you again.”

“Oh, you think you’re going to kiss me again, do you,” Henry says with a hint of a smile, lifting his chin in a kind of challenge that Alex does not intend to back away from.

“One-hundred-percent,” he says, then pauses. “Unless you plan on reporting me to HR.”

“Honestly,” says Henry, “I might have to report you if you don’t.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Alex says, very seriously, and he pulls Henry back in.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter Map Twenty-Six

TW: choking, noncon, dark shit, Julian

You’d be a liar, if you said you weren’t floating on a little cloud, as you go about your duties at the hospital. You’re smiling stupidly to yourself for no reason at all–and it’s all Tom Ludlow’s fault, of course. 

Later, when you’re sort of able to think clearly, you marvel at the way that man let you have your way without actually getting mad about it. You weren’t really sure what you were getting into, as you snapped the cuff into place. And maybe you’re still not sure who actually manipulated who. 

Maybe it doesn’t matter. 

All’s well that ends well…and that ended very fucking well, if you don’t say so yourself. 

You’d actually almost managed to forget about Doctor Julian for a little while. That is, until you hear a crisp click click outside the door when you’re getting something out of a supply closet and you jump three vertical feet in the air.

Ok, maybe not that high, but your soul certainly attempts to leave your fucking body. 

When you whirl to confront him–he’s gone. 

Bastard. 

Then several cases come in one after the other. Two gunshot wounds, a stabbing, a car accident, a gnarly burn. You are too busy to think about anything else but saving lives. 

Looking back, Julian undoubtedly banked on that, near the end of your shift. You are exhausted, and covered in grime, and hungry too because you missed out on your sandwich. It turns out that man can move stealthily as a cat, sneaking up without a sound behind you, until it’s too late and he’s bundled you into the lab, which sadly is rarely if ever occupied. 

You struggle, of course, to little avail. The way he bares his teeth as he pins your arms behind you betrays his enjoyment of this little ambush–too fucking much. His mouth crashes over yours, a punishing kiss that clashes teeth and bruises lips. He draws away just as you try to bite down on his wicked tongue. 

“Get off of me,” you snarl, though even now you're conscious of drawing attention, keeping your voice down. 

“Just wanted a little preview of our weekend festivities. Are you looking forward to it as much as I am?”

“No.”

Too late, you realize that’s exactly the answer he wanted. You can tell by his pleased smirk. He doesn’t want you to enjoy this at all. It would absolutely take the fun out of it for him. He makes it seem easy, to hold both of your wrists together in one of his large hands, his other lifting to brush away a stray lock of hair from your face. In any other circumstance the touch could have almost seemed tender–but you are a lamb in the jaws of a wolf, and you begin to tremble in his grasp. 

They do this–abusers. They lull you with some nugget of sweetness, put you off guard so that the violence is even more satisfying when they strike. It’s strange in a way, to compare this outwardly dignified man to the handsome redneck who used to knock you around back in Kansas. But really they are just two sides of the same fucking coin. 

You should fight back. Knee him in the groin, or maybe try out a headbutt. But your limbs seem to have forgotten how to function–and Julian has that little piece of damning lead in a baggie that could completely upend Tom Ludlow’s world. 

He feels it, as you remember that, the fight leaking from your bones.  “I’m proud of you, y/n. Someday, you won’t fight me at all.” 

You’re smart enough not to tell him this will not be an ongoing thing. Once you have that piece of evidence in your hands…you are gone. Maybe you’ll have to switch to a different hospital. Anything, not to have to deal with this asshole on a daily basis. 

Or, you could tell Tom, and this motherfucker will be unalived faster than you can say workplace harassment. Ok, maybe that’s not a good option, but it feels good to think about at this moment, when you are helpless in this monster’s clutches.

His touch migrates to your jaw, squeezing just this side of too hard. “I’m feeling…peckish, y/n. I think I’d like a little amuse bouche to tide me over until Saturday.”

Your heart drops to your feet.

“Amuse bouche? Who do you think you are, the Marquis de Sade?”

“Funny you should mention him. I think he had some very interesting ideas.”

“Julian…we’re at work.”

He just smirks, that cold glint in his eyes like a bared blade. 

“I think you mean to say, ‘Yes, Doctor.’”

You glare at him, and he waits, squeezing your wrists in his vice of a grip uncomfortably. 

“If you break my hands you will be in so much fucking trouble.”

He only finds your threat amusing at best. “Useful thing about being a doctor. I am well versed in the limits of the human body.” He squeezes harder, and you gasp. It makes his eyes shine like a kid outside the gates of Disneyland.

“How’s this for a limit? If you mark me up, Tom will come after you. He sees me naked every day.” You’re not sure if it's a good thing you mention this, but in the heat of the moment your protector’s name spills from your lips, invoked like your household saint. And you will admit, it feels good, to see Julian’s eyes darken at the mention of your intimacy with Tom.

“I think you're forgetting who holds the cards here to your boyfriend’s future. You had better come up with some good lies for Saturday, because I intend to leave my marks all over this beautiful skin.” He lets go of your wrists, but only to run his hands over your forearms, raising gooseflesh as he goes.

“How’s it feel to be a fucking creep?” You ask, genuinely, actually curious about the answer, trying not to give any reaction to his fingers teasing higher up your arms, putting every single nerve on high alert. 

His hand envelops your throat, fingers pressing against the sides and closing just enough to make it hard to breathe. “Please, go on,” he nods, looking down at you with a snarling grin. 

You don’t give him the satisfaction. You let him choke you in varying degrees and intensities and angles, saying nothing while he works at your throat like a he’s learning an instrument; what makes you cry, what makes your eyes roll back in your head, what makes you sputter and cough and gasp for the sweet air he’s depriving you of. 

Maybe you wish he would just strangle you to completion, instead of torturing you like this. Every time he lets you breathe it just makes the next instance of his huge hand around your throat that much worse. 

“Beg me to stop,” he hums against your ear, snaking tongue flicking at your soft dangling skin. 

You do. You beg, sweetly even. You beg for breath, which is something you never thought you’d have to do again after the freeing age of 18…and then after the horribly abusive first ex. 

But here you are. 

[tddyhyck]

ok but then who in dream would want to watch you get fucked by another member 👀

hheHeHhEe great question ,,

at first mark would not be into it he’s worried you’d like someone else’s dick more,, he’d be more down for a threesome where he’s the only one allowed to fuck you,, but when he sees how his member makes you cry while they eat you out he’d change his mind ,, mark is like “oh they’re gonna love this they deserve this”

renjun is down,, he’s all about pleasing you and if that means someone else fucking you dumb he’s down,, i think he would be more comfortable if it was someone he could trust like one of his members, i know he would tease tf out of you after like anytime you mention whoever or they come up he’s like “aww do you want their cock again” or he’s fucking you and brings them up “bet you wish he was here watching you make a mess on my dick” “you get so wet when i mention him” 😵‍💫😵‍💫

grrr jeno no ,, he’d not let someone fuck you i think he’d be so jealous, the most he would do is let another member finger you and maybe fuck your face ,, wait i’ve changed my mind he’d let them fuck you but only if it was a dp situation,, like jeno has to be in you if someone else is gonna be in you 😵‍💫😵‍💫 i do think he would like seeing you get your shit rocked ,, getting your mouth fucked by one of his friends like. a whore

hehe hyuck is so down, he’s a cuck 🥺 he’d get off on watching someone fuck you he’d sit across the room fucking his fist and whining,, his member would just keep telling him to shut up or that he’s being too loud so he can’t focus on your cunt,, and it just makes hyuck even harder,, he’d love to watch and have both of you being mean to him i know he’d cum so much,, he’d be so overstimulated and his hand would be so sticky and gross

now jaemin is into it for sure i think he’d want to be involved though,, i don’t think he’d be able to sit and watch without touching you or holding you. i bet he spreads his legs and holds you while you get fucked, maybe he’s got his fingers on your clit or pinching your nipples while he watches his friends cock slide into you,,, and he’d coo and praise you for taking his members cock so well probably saying how good his friend looks making you take it,, ok i could go on 😭😭

the motherfucker chenle i can see him either so against it or so for it,, against it because he wants you all to himself but for it because he loves seeing how messy you can be,, i think he’d let them fuck you then he’d push them away and fuck you into oblivion talking about “oh you think they can fuck you good just wait baby” “you know my cock is better” and his member is just watching and getting hard again while you’re mumbling excuses and i’m sorrys but chenle doesn’t want to hear it so he has his friend fuck your mouth to shut you up ,,,

curious little pervert jisung probably suggests it, something along the lines of “he was telling me about how he made someone cum in 5 minutes do you want to see if he can make you cum that fast?” but when it’s actually happening jisung is like can you make it last longer i want to watch this forever,,, he’d be jerking off beside you loving the way your eyes roll back for someone else ,,,

[after-witch]

Bonded [Platonic Yandere L x Sibling Reader]

Title: Bonded [Platonic Yandere L x Sister Reader]

Synopsis: Being L 's younger sibling sucks.

Word count: 1700ish

notes: platonic yandere, abusive sibling dynamic, L is an asshole; reader is a younger (adult) sibling

“Why do you have to go away? You just got back.”

L doesn’t answer. He scrapes his thumb across his lip and continues typing, clicking, mesmerized by whatever new assignment has been sent his way. 

It was always like this. It seemed that anytime your brother got back, he was sent out again. Always needed, always being pulled by a million different people in directions you couldn’t even fathom. And you were here, at Whammy’s, stuck and lonely and increasingly pissed off.

You suck in your cheeks, gnawing lightly on the inside of your mouth, taking in a bit from behind your lips, a bit on the side of your cheek. Your teeth work the flesh over and over, not hurting, but pressing down.

 A familiar habit, ingrained from a young age, something that simultaneously soothes you without actually disappointing the growing frustration, anger, resentment in your belly. Maybe it doesn’t soothe you at all, you muse. Maybe it’s just a way to shut yourself up so you don’t say something you can’t take back.

“You’ll get blisters inside your cheeks again,” he says, glancing at you and looking away just as quickly. 

It’s nothing new for him to barely pay attention to you when he’s on assignment, and it’s nothing new for you to clamor for more of that attention.

Life was unfair and he was unfair, but you played into the bullshit anyway, because you didn’t know how else to live.

So you let your voice take on a muffled tone, annoyed, childish. You want him to tell you to stop acting like a kid. You want him to sigh and slam his laptop shut and ask you what’s wrong. You want him to just look at you, talk to you, damn it, for more than a few seconds. 

“So what?”

You cross your arms over your chest, playing the petulant child. It’s what you feel like--what you’ve always felt like--in his presence. Like some dumb little thing, stupider than him, smaller than him, less than him.

He doesn’t even look at you this time, his fingers flying on his keyboard, the clacking sound irritatingly familiar at this point. “They’ll sting when you eat food, and you hate gargling salt water to heal them, so I’ll have to make you do it.” He twists his mouth into something like a pout, but you can’t tell if it’s aimed at you or whatever he’s reading on the screen. 

“I’m not using salt water, even if I get blisters,” you say, jutting your chin outwards. You’ve been reading too many novels, clearly, and everything feels like it has a practiced air. You’re a player in a theatrical performance, and you can’t tell if L is the audience or a fellow actor or maybe he’s the director, cooling pulling the strings behind the curtain. 

He glances at you again, then resumes typing. “Then you can be grounded to your room for a week. No TV. No books.”

Your lips curl even further. “You can’t ground me. I’m an adult. You’re just being an assh--”

He does look at you this time, and it’s that stare that you know too well. The I’m-older-than-you stare, the I’m-in-charge-of-you stare. The stare that he gives when you ask to attend real university and not some in-house curriculum; the look that he gives you when you ask to move out of here, to get your own place, when you bring up the fact that you’re a grown-fucking-adult but you’ve never had any life experiences outside of motherfucking Whammy’s House and you’re losing your mind.

Your eyebrows furrow.  Your cheeks flush hot, shame rolling around in your gut. Then your arms uncross and you huff, throwing yourself backward on the bed, landing on your pillows. Two plush, soft things, a stark contrast to the uniform firm pillows normally issued at Whammy’s.

L hated those pillows, and so did you, and it was one of the first things he secured for you once it was clear that the two of you were going to stay. That, you tell yourself, is a sign that he cares about you. 

But it doesn’t make you feel any better right now. 

“Don’t breathe so loud,” L says, suddenly, voice lilting enough to eat away at your resentments. “Please. You’ll distract me.”

You resist the urge, only barely, to throw a pillow at his head. 

--

Later that night, L puts away the computer and the phone. He murmurs something to someone in the hallway before slinking into your bedroom, watching as you finish your nighttime routine, peeling back the covers and crawling into them.

You look at him. He doesn’t make to leave, like he sometimes does, when he’s too busy.

He raises an eyebrow.

You open the covers, and say nothing more. 

In a few moments, he crawls into bed. 

Familiar warmth, familiar smells, familiar touch. You nestle yourself in the crook of his arm, automatically. You do this, even if you’re mad. Or especially when you’re mad, sometimes.

“The nest,” you used to call it, when he was young and you were younger. A safe place you could go when everything was overwhelming and the world was too cold and dark, and the only thing that made you feel at home was your brother’s arms. 

Back when it was mostly just you and him. No legions of would-be successors, wanna-bes,  hangers-on, vying for scraps of his attention. No stony-faced men in suits letting you know that he wouldn’t be returning home (if this could be called “home,” and you certainly wouldn’t call it that) for another few months and no, he couldn’t call, but they’ll pass on your message. No eccentrics with monikers of N and M and every letter under the sun making you wonder what would happen if you L did die, where would you be, who would you turn to? 

Back when he felt like your big brother, and nights like this--in the same room or the same bed, falling asleep together, words murmured until you fell asleep, always before him--were the norm. And not the rarity that they are now. 

And truth be told, it still makes you feel safe to be nestled there. That’s what really hurts the most. It would be better, easier, if you hated him. If you resented him so much that you wanted nothing to do with him. 

Instead, you’re like a moth beating its wings senseless against a light that only sometimes turns on. Useless and pointless but at least, sometimes, once in every fucking while, you got what you wanted. 

“L?” You ask, your voice partially muffled from your position curled next to him. You’re sleepy, but you know he won’t be. He sleeps even less than he used to, and that’s saying something. 

“Mm?” 

It takes so, so much of you to ask him this point blank. You wonder if he knows this, that being so candid is like stripping yourself bare in front of the entire world. Which he might as well be, for you. 

“Will you take me with you, this time?” Your fingers curl tightly on his shirt. “I hate being here by myself.”

He breathes out a quick little snort, enough to rustle your hair. His arm tightens around you. 

“How can you hate being here by yourself, when you’re not by yourself? There’s--”

You know he’s about to list every single damn person at this stupid facility. You know them all, and you hate them all. Well… most. 

(You could, if pressed, admit that Matt was tolerable in medium doses. But you’d never admit that to your brother, for reasons you couldn’t quite articulate. Sometimes you imagine the look on his face if you were to tell him that you hung out with Matt, actually, and he seemed--what? Nice? Funny? Interesting?) 

Your fingers tighten further. Tears choke your throat. 

“You know what I mean,” you whisper, tight, pained. 

You’re not so different from the others at Whammy’s, you know. They crave his attention more than anything and God help you, so do you. A look, a glance, a shared memory. Something to remind you that you’re alive and he’s your brother and you’re together, by blood and everything else. 

Yet it’s always there--

The push and the pull. 

Wanting to be near him and wanting to get away, break out, smash down the box you’re kept in and make a life for yourself. A life where you’re not “L’s sister.” A life where whispers don’t follow you in the halls, where expectations aren’t simmering in the air, heavy and unwanted. 

Where you don’t feel like your big brother is some unknowable figure, always out of reach, yet unwilling to either pull you entirely into himself or let you free. 

Sometimes you wonder… what kind of life could you have without L? He’s all you’ve ever known. There is not a single memory in existence in which he has not been a part of it. If he did let you leave, if you did get the nerve to make some great daring escape, what would become of you?

Maybe you were nothing without him, without those whispers, without the pedestal that you’re forced to stare up at whenever you think about him. 

The thought makes you want to wretch.

He hums, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You were clenching his shirt so hard that your fingers ache, and you flex them.

“Well?” You ask, voice dull.

You know he’s not going to take you with him before he speaks. Quiet tears slip down  your cheeks, and you feel dumb. But he doesn’t tease you for them, at least. There’s that.

“Maybe next time,” he says, and pats your back. Time to get to bed. He barely slept, but that didn’t mean he would let you stay up late. Or watch too much TV. Or leave Whammy’s for somewhere new. 

Disappointment weighs you down, but then, doesn’t it always? You swallow the prickles in your throat. 

“Then just… don’t be gone a long time, okay?” 

You sigh, letting yourself relax back into his arms. Into the nest. Into some remnant of childhood where you felt comfortable and safe. You push away all thoughts of leaving, of resentments, of the fact that your life is only something like fulfilled when your brother designs to visit. You stay there until you fall asleep, dreams gray and bleary, disconnected thoughts that are rarely worth remembering. 

Against your hair, L smiles. 

[daisynik7]

Any smutty headcanon you want about Eren pleeease, I’m in a brainrot for him rn and Iooove how you portray him. I should study for my exam but this is definitely better ilyyyy

Author’s Notes: Sorry this took a while! I hope your exam went well and I hope you enjoy these smutty headcanons for everyone’s favorite: Frat Boy!Eren. I can never get enough of him! ily too nonnie! thanks for the request. 😘

Frat Boy!Eren is as stereotypical as they come. He walks around campus in his letters and backwards baseball cap, a smug grin on his face whenever he walks by a group of girls, head following them as they pass, checking them out. 

Frat Boy!Eren is obnoxious in the library, surrounded by his bros, doing the bare minimum to be quiet as they snicker loudly, tossing crumpled pieces of paper at each other. Eventually, the librarian comes to scold them, but, as usual, he works his charm, apologizing with his sweet smile and emerald eyes, enough to get off with only a warning. 

Frat Boy!Eren is the life of the party. He’s the self-proclaimed frat star of his brotherhood, always the first to get things started with a round of shots. How does that saying go? Beer before liquor makes you sicker, liquor before beer you’re in the clear? Well, he takes that to heart, downing shots of cheap vodka first, then moving on to shotgunning beers, which, of course, he’s the fastest at. And it’s not a party without a keg stand. He does it with ease, Connie and Jean on either side of him, chanting, “Drink, motherfucker, drink!” as he hangs upside down, chugging it. 

Frat Boy!Eren sobers up outside, inhaling the crisp night air into his nostrils. He spots you, the shy girl from one of his classes, standing on the other side of the balcony. Looking as cute and innocent as ever. And, as his reputation precedes him, Frat Boy!Eren adores virgins. He wants to be the one to corrupt you. 

Frat Boy!Eren approaches you, breath heavy with liquor, whispering in your ear, “What’s a sweet girl like you doing here?” And when you reject his advances, claiming he’s too drunk to even get it up, he chuckles, saying, “If I’m sober the next time you see me, do you promise to let me fuck you?”

And while you’re usually not attracted to assholes like Frat Boy!Eren, something about him arouses you, aside from his obvious good looks. Maybe it’s the way he thinks he’s got you figured out, when in reality, he has no idea what he’s getting himself into. 

So, as promised, the next time you see Frat Boy!Eren, he’s sober for the first time at a party, waiting for you to approach him. When you find him, you immediately drag him to the closest bedroom upstairs, locking the door, hungry for his cock. He lays his head back against the pillows, arms resting behind his head, watching as you strip naked for him, rubbing your clit eagerly. When you sink down on his throbbing dick, he moans. “Fuck, your pussy is so fucking tight.”

“You like this sweet, virgin cunt, don’t you?” you tease him, rocking your hips back and forth. Frat Boy!Eren nods, eyes shut in ecstasy, hands gripped to your waist, bouncing you on his lap. His thrusts quicken, your ass smacking on his thighs lewdly. And with your mouth sucking on his ear lobe, you whisper to him, “Fill me up. Breed me.”

And Frat Boy!Eren shouldn’t be turned on by this. In fact, he should be totally freaked out. He’s too young to be a daddy! But as you squeeze around his cock, milking him for everything he’s worth, he can’t help but want to do exactly what you tell him. He shoots his load inside you, too fucking intoxicated by your wet pussy to pull out. He reaches for your clit, rubbing it with his thumb, and soon enough, you’re creaming around him, your combined mess slowly spilling onto his lap. He doesn’t panic about coming inside you, because as you cuddle in bed, you reveal to him with a small laugh that you’re actually on birth control. However, he does panic at how okay he is with it even if you weren’t. Or how happy he is to be snuggled in your arms. 

Frat Boy!Eren doesn’t do relationships. But with you, he’ll make an exception. 

[hunterssm00n]

NSFW ! Negan hc's

You need to know your place / cuz it's about to get heavy

*cw include mention of dubcon/noncon, manipulative behavior, dirty talk, explicit language, daddy kink, breeding kink, exhibitionism, mention of degradation, some dark themes* MDNI - 18+

౨ৎ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

this is specifically about season 7 negan btw

this motherfucker

he just thinks he's gods gift to the world. and that's why we love him, right?

his confidence is off the charts. scratch that - he's just straight up cocky

but at the same time, he’s just so damn charming

he’s able to use that charm in all aspects of his life to get what he wants, and that includes in the bedroom

dirty. talk. he’s a master with his words, and he’ll say things that could make a porn star blush

you’re so tight around my cock, baby, you sure you ain’t a virgin? fuck, thats nice

my slice of cherry pie, gonna lick the cream right out of that sweet center of yours, doll

gimme that ass, baby, lemme be the first one to break you in there

i feel like he can be gentle if he wants to be, but most of the time he can be kind of rough- however, not so rough that it’s not enjoyable

this may be unpopular opinion but I feel like he’s average sized down there rather than massive- maybe a little bit above average. but as the saying goes, it’s not the size of the wave that counts, but the motion of the ocean- and he’s got that part down pat

he’s purely dominant, i feel like almost 100% off the time, if not completely. he wants to be in control, and that’s also in every other aspect of his life as well. so that definitely makes sense for the bedroom also

in that same sense, he would not exactly care a whole lot if he's the only one truly consenting... he's not above using manipulation to get what he wants, and sexual favors fall under the above categories (see his harem of wives from the show). he's able to shut off his morality easier than most people, and doesn't always care about many wants far beyond his own. in other words = selfish.

however, this doesn't mean that he only cares about his pleasure; he will give as good as he gets, if not better. plus, what better form of manipulation than a forced orgasm?

his supermassive inflated ego loves when he's complimented, and treated as a figure of authority- it's another kink of his. he would not turn down being called sir in the bedroom

he refers to himself as daddy, and he also loves being called this in bed.

hairy chest, yummm. dark, coarse hair covers most of his body, and when he’s naked it’s like a roadmap of deliciousness

he has a breeding kink, and i’m pretty sure this is actually canon.

he swears a lot as it is, understatement of the year, but during sex he’s downright filthy. he puts a sailor to shame

not quiet at all during sex, he’s constantly talking, cussing, moaning, growling. and that deep voice sounds so hot when he’s in the zone, like spine-tingling hot, good lord

i feel like he would be into degradation, in which case he’s the one doing the degrading. i go back and forth with this one, but i feel like it’s something he would possibly be into although definitely not as much as the comedian

i don’t think he has a favorite position, probably anything that involves him being in control and just downright being inside

he also isn't above some exhibitionism. the bedroom isn't the only place where fun can be had; this can also happen in his rv, in a car with or without his henchmen present, outside in the woods somewhere, in his 'office'- hell, he'll do it just about anywhere if the mood strikes him

once he’s in, fast and hard is his preferred pace. also, his stamina is pretty good, so it will take him a little bit before he cums, which means he can go multiple rounds

aftercare? honestly, as much of an ass as he is, i feel like he’s pretty decent at aftercare. though of course the thing that he’s best at is being a shit-eating grin-wearing pain in the ass.

౨ৎ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

hunterssm00n © All rights reserved by me. I do not allow this work to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

AN: I do not own TWD franchise or any of it's characters. I also do not own the song 'Devil' by Shinedown. The photos above are from pinterest, and have links attached to the original posts.