#it's nice to change from thick to thin every now and then

[hiddencarpet]

Having fun with a bit of some thin lines :)

[asraxfile]

ғᴀᴠᴏᴜʀɪᴛᴇ ᴇɴᴇᴍʏ

sypnosis the hatred that had been pouring out for years between your and Karina's mafia was a bit exhausting. But your bad relations change one day when you and Karina decide to meet and change everything, alone.

pairing mafia leader!Karina x mafia leader!fem!reader

genre smut, fluff, enemies to lovers

warnings: sexual activity(strap-on, pussy eating, dirty talk), kissing, cursing, teasing, mentions of reader smoking, Karina and reader as switches

word count: 2.8k

It was a clear day in Seoul. Various clouds covering the bright sky as Karina made her way towards your building. With her men in black suits she looked at the camera on the front door. As it scanned her pretty face, she pierced with the look in her eyes, knowing you were the one watching on the other side of the camera. 

Karina was the boss of the 2nd most powerful mafia in Korea. She wasn’t the type to get her hands dirty as long as she could keep the business going, but you were totally the opposite one. Surpassing the number of crimes committed compared to Karina’s mafia made you the number 1 in Korea. No one ever dared to step on your path, except Karina herself. 

That’s the exact reason why both of your families have been longtime enemies throughout the far distant history. Both of you followed your family’s steps but many things need to be cleared on this day. 

As she made her way out of the elevator’s long ride to your office that is positioned on the last floor, 12th floor, Karina walked through the long hallway with seriousness, kinda scaring your guards. But still they welcomed her in your office, eyeing her mysterious figure. 

Karina wore a black short sleeved dress, with half of her back exposed, with laced black thighs and of course her detailed black suit with thin white stripes. Her dark brown hair was let down, matching the professionality in her face. The stomping of her thick heels on her boots stopped as she waited for your office door to open. 

“Don’t come inside with me, I’ll be fine on my own.” Karina hissed at her guards, strict and sharp but they obeyed with her exact word. She watched your guards finally open the door as she stepped inside, being enlightened by the light out of your large window. 

You were turned with your back as you sat on the chair, a little smoke could be seen coming out from behind. "So Karina," you began as you spun your chair towards the person you were expecting. Taking the last puff of your cigarette. "we meet again, who would’ve thought, right?" you smirked at the mafia president, Karina, as she slowly walked towards your table. 

“Don’t be silly, both of us knew this day would eventually come.” Karina chuckled, holding her expensive Prada bag. You turned your gaze to your now long gone cigarette as you squeezed it into the ashtray. “That’s a really nice bag you have there.” you complimented as you got closer to the table and rested your arms on it, looking up at Karina. Curiosity splattered all over your face. 

“It indeed is,” Karina starts, putting the bag in front of her on the dark wooden table of your office. “There’s a present for you in it,” you raised a brow at her state. “But you will get it later.” she released her fingers from the bag and crossed her arms, sizing you up carefully.

“A present? from Miss. Yu Jimin? for me?” leaning back on your chair, you mocked. In response Karina rolled her eyes. “Must be my lucky day, but should I be concerned or flattered?” you asked. 

Karina’s lips slowly turned into a cheeky but a teasing smile, making you furrow your eyebrows. “It should be…pleasuring.” she exclaimed as you tried to understand what she meant by that. She slowly walked closer to you, the low click of her boots slicing through the silence like a knife.

Your eyes followed her every movement, and for a brief moment, the air between you felt heavier, thick with unspoken distant words. Karina placed her palms on the edge of your desk and leaned closer to your sitting figure, her face inches from yours. 

The room seemed to get even quieter as Karina leaned into your space, the cool scent of her perfume blending with the faint smoke of your cigarette lingering in the air. Her gaze locked onto yours, the weight of her presence bearing down on you. 

Through it all, Karina was always so unpredictable from your point of view, always so quiet but so unforgettable. That’s the reason why you were kinda terrified of her, but you loved her like that. Perhaps one of the main reasons to clear up all the bloodshed between your families is not just to make eternal peace between them, but to make you and Karina the most unforgettable and fearless duo, ever. 

Her lips curved into a faint smirk, one that you loved to see the most. “You talk so seriously, yet you tremble when I’m this close.” her words pierced through your mind like a dagger, surprising you but you refused to show it. “Am I?” you mocked, slightly turning more towards her. “Cause I thought we were playing the same game.” 

Karina’s breath hitched, slightly darkening her eyes, but keeping her teasingful grin. You straightened your back, moving forward to your enemy. “What is it, Jimin, looks like this game isn’t yours to own.” you teased, watching Karina’s chestnut brown hair fall to one side of her shoulder as she moved ever forward to you. 

She placed a hand on your shoulder as a signal for you to move backwards with your chair. You didn’t flinch, you just obeyed under her touch. Karina’s smirk deepened, her confidence unshaken with the same serious look from the start. With a swift move, she leaned in to whisper into your ear. 

“If I wanted to own you,” she said, her voice sounding like a predator trying to catch his prey, like a cat going for a mouse. She looked at you “you’d already be mine.” with the last said word, she quickly pulls you into a rough kiss, making you grunt in surprise. She groped your shoulders as she continued to kiss your soft lips, messing your face up with her lipstick, also crumpling your white shirt. 

To obtain control, you roughly pull her in your lap as she sits on the middle of your thigh with her legs spread open, her dress lifting in a sudden movement. Your arms exploring her torso as Karina puts a hand on your neck, making you choke a little. Slowly she pulls away as she softly opens her eyes to look at you. Breathless, you could just smirk. “You’re always full of surprises, dear.” you flirt as you suddenly lift Karina up. Moving away all the things from your table and slamming her body down. 

The sudden movement made Karina moan in slight pain in your ear which only aroused you more. Her legs wrapped firmly around your hips as she held your shoulders tightly, digging her black nails in your back. You attacked her neck with wild and rough kisses, sucking on her sweet spot leaving a fresh hickey. 

“Hahh…L/n…” she moaned your last name out, trying to think but she couldn’t. As you move your kisses to her collarbone, you raise your head to face her. “Why so formal, it’s not like we’re strangers.” you exclaim, slowly tracing your fingers to the zip of her dress. 

Karina gulped bluntly as she could feel the heat started to rise in her the slower you unzipped her black dress. “Who’s trembling now?” you teased, checking Karina out as you took off her boots and slid her laced thighs off her too. Karina now in a bra and panties. 

You checked her out as Karina quickly sat up and pulled you closer by your black tie, making you kiss her all over again. She unbuttoned your shirt through the kiss and after she did, you started to slide them down her body again. 

Karina enjoyed this too much, getting lost under your touch. You traced hot kisses down her chest, her stomach and finally you came to her panties. The coldness of your hands sent chills down her spine as she couldn’t wait anymore. She needed you, right this instant. 

Slowly, you looked down in between her legs and brushed your cold thumb over the fabric of her panties, right over her pussy. Loving the little sounds Karina makes. Now it was her turn to tremble under your touch. 

You slowly slid down the laced black pair of panties down her legs and did not hesitate to leave Karina waiting. Kissing her inner thighs, Karina rested one leg on the edge of the table and the other on your shoulder. You kneeled on the floor and pulled her hips closer, placing a tender kiss on her clit. Sucking and slurping Karina could feel the heat between her legs rise up even more with your each lick. 

She gripped your hair, looking down at you with a furrowed expression as she moaned in pleasure. Karina rested on her elbows, rolling her eyes. You sure knew how to get this woman to obey. 

Slowly sliding your tongue across her clit, you moved your head around a constant rhythm, making Karina’s already shaking. Then, slowly you insert 2 of your fingers deep in her cunt, making her release a loud moan. “Y-Y/n…right there…please, more-ah!” you pumped your fingers in and out of her, hitting her sweet spot as you looked at her. “C’mon dear, cum for me.” you whispered as you started licking her clitoris once again. A tear of pleasure sliding down Karina’s eye as she breathed out, finally cumming on your fingers. 

You kiss her inner thighs as you raise your head up to face her, obviously smirking. “Cat got your tongue?” you teased as you watched her catch her breath. “Whoo….that was…hahh…really good.” Karina stuttered out, getting her legs off you and sitting up. You proudly chuckle as you sit in your chair. 

“Hey, hey, what are you doing, baby?” she stood up, slowly walking to the front side of the table as you watched in confusion. “Tell me who said that…” she rummaged through her bag before looking at you again. “We were done…?” she pulled out a strap out of her bag, widening your eyes. “Ahh, so that’s my present.” Standing up you take off your black pants, throwing them aside as you walk towards Karina. “I’ll be glad to use it.” as you try to take the strap away, Karina back it away from your grip. 

“Dear, you don’t use gifts, you receive them.” she exclaimed nastily, smirking widely at you. 

The next thing you knew that Karina was fucking the shit out of you with that goddamn strap of hers. She bent you over your table and thrusted inside of you like she’d done it numerous times. “You like this?? Oh I know you like this, baby,” she teased, slapping and groping your ass tightly. You were a moaning mess, but you didn’t care, you wanted to show Karina you were hers and hers only. Suddenly, Karina slows down her pace, moving your hair to one side to kiss your neck. 

Breathless, you couldn’t think. “Such a good girl for me, not even caring that our guards might be hearing your sweet little noises from behind the door.” she whispered deeply in your ear. “I’m gonna make you realize we belong together.” getting into position again, she started thrusting slowly, passionately and once again, roughly. 

“Ahh…hahh…K-Karina…faster please!!” you begged and moaned Karina’s name, making her chuckle. Slapping your ass again she fastened her movements. Fucking you rotten like a bunny. Enjoying this view a little too much, looking down on you was always her job anyway. 

“I can feel you’re close, y/nn, c’mon, cum for Karina.” she fastened her thrusts even more as your moans got louder before you finally came on her strap. Your legs shaking as Karina pulls out, staring down at your gift and all the juices you splattered on it. 

“Fuck Y/n, that was so hot.” Karina exclaimed as you tiredly sat on the edge of the table. Softly, Karina smiles at you as she kisses the top of your head, hugging your naked body. “So this is how we fix both family conflicts?” you asked, both of you chuckling. 

“Be for real now, you are too desperate for me.” Karina teased back as you kissed her shoulder before looking at her once again. “And you’re nothing without me.” you peck her lips as both of you fall into a chuckle again. 

When both of you got dressed up, you said your goodbyes with Karina and walked her towards the exit of your building. Feeling proud that both of your mafia’s are now on good terms all because Karina was your favorite enemy of all time. She had always been the one who pushed you to your limits, testing your patience and well being. Yet, there was a strange sense of tension between the two of you that no one could quite understand but you dearly cherished with only her.

[screampied]

gojo buys you new lipgloss so you can smear it all over his dick later.

he’d be sitting manspread with that dumb sly grin. cerulean irises of his avert towards your pretty plump lips. he brings a thumb towards your bottom lip, pulling it down before speaking in a playful raspy tone. “so shiny. look at that mouth.” and he squeezes your lips together before watching you dig your knees into the ground, preparing to start. your lips part, formulating on what to say next before gojo cuts you off with a snicker. “ah. no talking, princess. save that for later.”

you’d nearly moan, glancing down at his tip that was stood tall right in front of your face — a perfect view. so thin and lengthy, he had girth for miles.

gojo intakes a single breath the moment he feels you give his tip a sweet kiss. a sweet little, ‘mwah’ left from your glossed lips, and you repeat it because you watch how gojo’s demeanor suddenly changed.

your lip gloss started to coat the frenulum part of his length, and he could only imagine what it’d be like once he was fully down your throat. “fuck,” he’d rasp out, momentarily swirling your tongue against his leaky tip. gojo then maintains a grip on the crown of your head, spreading his legs just a tad bit more. “yeah. just like that,” and then he strokes the outline of your jaw, his left thigh starting to bounce. “now, open nice ‘n wide for me. stick out that tongue too. heh. don’t be shy girl, ‘s just me.”

he was so gentle with his strokes against your jaw, slender fingers making contact with your skin.

you whine, feeling yourself throb between your legs. he leers intently as you sink your throat down on his cock.

it was sweet at first, how you lightly parted your lips — slowly taking him in your mouth.

not even milliseconds go by and saliva starts to trickle past your lips. he groans, feeling the warmth of your throat swallow him. once he reaches the roof of your mouth, you briefly gag, lashes fluttering as you look up at him.

“it’s okay princess,” he says with a hint of tease behind his tone. “get it wet f'r me. love me a wet ‘n sloppy m-mouth.”

you’re munching at first, gradually taking him in.

he grows abnormally quiet—watching your every move, he slips off a sweet moan the moment he feels your tongue swirl over his frenulum for the umpteenth time.

he was forevermore incredibly sensitive there.

it made him kiss his teeth with his head going marginally back. your wet mouth, he starts heaving and heaving. by this point, it was no point for him to suppress his moans. especially with a tongue as sloppy as yours.

“mhm,” he breathes, and your throat was entirely filled with nothing but his thick inches. you bring a hand towards his base, softly massaging his hefty balls and he lets off an even louder moan. it comes out to a mere whine though, muttering out a, “f-fuck. handsy girl. keep— keep touchin’ me there. see what happens.”

it’s cute on how he’s trying to keep up his tough facade, yet he’s no match. the outer parts of your lips skim all against the edges of his dick. you feel a few veins that coated on his shaft throb on your tongue.

gojo pulls out for a second, smacking his fat tip on your tongue, smearing his cock all over your lips.

he swallows, watching how your lip gloss runs all over his cock head now. his breathing hitches, and with a cute tap on the side of your cheek, you open up your mouth again and he eases right back in.

“such a sloppy girl,” he groans, lapping your tongue against his tip again. his pre-cum, the few remnants that resided at least tasted bitter. a mixture of sweet and bitterness—you reach down to play with yourself but it’s like gojo already knew. “don’t even,” and your hand comes to a halt. he moves strands away from your face before watching you bobble your head up and down, up and down in an orderly fashion. “leave her alone. she’ll get some attention soon too, don’t worry baby.”

the pout you give him after being denied to touch yourself he snickers. you place your hand back down, and even to near his base. it was all smothered with the sheeny material of your lip gloss.

gojo’s head tilts back, feeling himself getting closer and closer towards the edge. you’re fondling with his base in the process.

you took him fully, breathing through your nose. after each sloppy downward stroke—you start to seep throat for a few seconds, strands of spit running down your chin and decorating your chest. it was such a sight, a picture he’d probably envision in his mind for the rest of his life. your plump lips thrashed roughly near his abdominal wall. just right above the head of his dick.

every few seconds, you pause to take a fresh gasp of air. your tongue wriggles against his tip, a soft thumb stroking against his sack before he whines.

“g-gonna cum,” he whimpers, his voice sweet and pitchy. gojo’s cock starts to swell. all stiff and full of nothing but prepared cum for you. he couldn’t wait to paint the back of your throat with his color, the thought made him swallow hard. your timing was perfect, stroking his balls and focusing all your attention of his cock. his pretty white lashes flutter and his abs that hide underneath his shirt tightens. “ba—by..” he croaks out in a horse voice, and once he came it was so much. his ears rang and your lips wrapped around his dick perfectly.

the minute gojo came, his cock’s buried a in your throat — your maw was dangled open, and you happily remained there while he filled your mouth.

pretty hooded eyes stared at you, and he’s got a grip on your head still, ropes of velvety cum trickling into your mouth. it shoots out real slow, you pause, breathing through your nose once more before waiting until his done. then you swallow, a small gulp before lolling out your tongue to show him.

“such a nasty good g-girl,” he stammers, giving your head an abrupt head pat. gojo’s huffing and puffing before he strokes his dick right in front of your face, feeling the slickness all around it. “your lip gloss. ‘s everywhere. heh. definitely worth the fifteen dollars.”

[nomazee]

“This is unnecessary.”

At Blade’s snide comment, you pull sharply at the strands of his hair in your hands. He grunts in displeasure before obediently quieting down, only a little scared of you scalping him if he annoys you any further. 

Perched behind him on the couch while he sits on the floor, your hands find themselves coming through his hair (long, smooth, untangled despite the fact that you’ve never seen him take a brush to it). Your efforts to part his hair with just your fingers are fruitless. His hair is thick on the top, so much so that you’re surprised his neck doesn’t constantly ache with the weight of it. Your hands pause, resting on the top of his head while you try and figure out how you’ll style it. 

“Be nice,” you warn, two hands on the sides of his head tilting it from side to side, treating him as a foam mannequin on which you can project your very thorough cosmetology skills. “Your fate is quite literally in my hands. I could knock you out and shave you bald very easily.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he says earnestly, and you can’t help the way your lips twinge into a smile. “This is clearly a hassle. My hair looks fine the way it is.”

“It does,” you admit, “but wouldn’t it be nice to try something new? And at no cost to you, aside from mild scalp pain. I’m good at hair. I did Kafka’s that one time.” You fail to mention that it was only one time for good reason. Kafka said that you handle hair the same way a lobster would handle a violin—that is, with clumsy hands and a clear lack of refinement. She had to hide every pair of scissors from you in fear that you'd give Silver Wolf microbangs.

As if on cue, your fingers get caught in an unexpected snag in Blade’s hair, and you pull and tug and yank as if expecting it to untangle on its own. Blade hisses and reaches a hand back to smack you on the wrist, turning around to glare at you. 

“Watch it,” he orders, gentle but firm. There’s not enough heat in his words to scare you, and his eyes are a particularly beautiful shade of copper in the dim, flickering light of this dingy lounge room. Whatever you say, beautiful, you think to yourself hysterically. 

After a few half-willed apologies from you and some nudges of encouragement, Blade finally relaxes enough to turn back around and tilt his head back in your lap, letting your fingers play with his hair nonsensically. A braid, you decide, would look quite nice on him. One long one down the back. If you had ribbon, you’d use some to tie his hair, but all you have is one of Kafka’s tragically thin hair ties. 

“It’s a nice color,” you comment absentmindedly, pretending that you can’t see the way Blade’s eyes have shut in contentment at your gentle prodding. “It changes in the light a little bit. It looks very blue now, but I’ve always thought it was black.” You section his hair off into three pieces, loosely laying one over the other over and over again. The aged gold ornament still hangs securely in his hair, and you don’t do anything to move it. It suits him. 

“It’s natural, if that’s what you’re getting at,” he tells you, the slightest twinge of a joke in his voice. It plays at your smile and at your heart, too. 

“You say that now, but you’ll be scrambling to come up with a lie when I find box dye in your bag.” 

He only hums in response, reluctantly enjoying the feeling of your hands on him—they’re gentle, and you can imagine he’s not quite used to this. It’s an addictive feeling, to have him at your mercy, even with just your hands in his hair. There’s trust, unspoken, lingering warmly in the air and settling like condensation on your skin. You could very easily do a number of things that would hurt Blade—kill him, almost. You’ve only ever thought of it a few times, and those were all a very long time ago. 

You don’t think of it that often anymore. All you’re paying attention to is Blade and the splitting ends of his hair and how nice he’d look with a red ribbon tied in. 

“We should go shopping,” you tell him, voice close to a whisper now. You’ve secured the end of his braid already, and your handiwork is admirable. The strands are neatly crossed over each other, uniform in size with each other as they taper down into the end. “Some clips for you would be nice.” Absentmindedly, you comb through the layers of hair near his face, digging your fingers gently into the sides of his face and scratching at his scalp. 

“And where exactly would we go shopping? We’re not exactly upstanding members of society in some people’s eyes.” 

“Then I’ll make clips for you,” you say, a naive kind of dedication in your tone. “I used to work with metal, a little bit. I could make jewelry. Ornaments for your hair. I’ll put a ribbon in next time.” 

“What makes you think there’ll be a next time?” Blade asks doubtfully, in steep contrast with the way he lets your hands roam along his scalp, and the way his head leans back into you as if he’s comfortable. 

“You’re a loyal customer,” you quip, “you’d never let somebody else do your hair when you have me as a dedicated stylist.” 

“I’m your only customer.” 

“I know,” and in a moment of weakness—because at the end of the day that’s what you are, weak, malleable and moveable when you’re with Blade like this—you lean down just a little bit, pressing a stupid clumsy kiss on the crown of his head. Your fingers trail down to trace the bumps of the braid, the divots and grooves in it, made by your hands, and yours alone. “That just means I can put all my effort towards you alone.” 

“You shouldn’t.” And he means it when he says that, and it hurts you, puts a sickly pang in your chest that you want to reach for and tear out before it grows into something worse. 

“But I will,” you tell him. Blade is stubborn, but not stubborn enough to keep it up. Not now, not here, not when the overhead lights are flickering and making his hair look just a little bluer, illuminating the warmer ends of his hair, glinting off the metal ornament still clipped into it. He rests between your hands, still sitting on the cold floor, pretending that he isn’t falling asleep with you like the fool he secretly is.

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin

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[dollya-robinprotector]

"Slow down, look around you"

This is kinda the pose on my pinpost, but the design of Robin and Lya is already so different. Things subtly changed, little by little, without my notice. Only looking back after a long while do I realize I've been in such a rush for so long, so so long that I forgot how relaxing it feels to just sit down and work on something with care and appreciation.

I love how round I draw Robin's face now, like he has such soft cheeks that you want to kiss, to run your fingers on the skin, and lightly pinch them. I love to draw each and every line in Lya's hair, to describe the thick and thin strands, to show how they part, how they run along her figure. I love drawing dancing flower petals in the bg, and dotting each of all the small white dots to resemble Clamp's copic dots. I love drawing in pastel colors, so lightly and gently sometimes my strained eyes can't differ from Lya's eye color with her hair color, but when finished it always looks so nice and soothing to me. Everything is coated in a light pink hue, so sweet...

But everything goes on. When the light of day comes so does the rushing life, and I'll be back to the never-ending cycle of work and production. Time goes by so fast, before I know it another day ended without any real result or any work done. It's tiring, and I grow afraid of checking the clock.

Maybe I should be thankful. At least I'm still keeping it up. I'm going somewhere, no idea where exactly, but I'm still moving, even slowly. For that, I should pat myself on the shoulder and keep going.

It's 5am. Another day is about to come.

[itsonlybaby]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 - 𝐣. 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐲﹒

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

playlist ! i hope you enjoy this

John Murphy - Dropship

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ ⸝⸝ You hated Murphy since you landed on the ground, you didn't expect for him to awaken something in you. ﹒ 　 ⊹ 　⤷ cw: shameless Murphy smut, plot, some violence, nsfw

Life on the ground was incredible.

It was like nothing I could've ever imagined, even though there were threats, such as the grounders and unstudied plants due to radiation- but none as big as John Murphy.

Everywhere I looked he'd be there; infecting everything with his toxins. The power Bellamy had given him went straight to his head, he truly believed he was better than everyone.

He seemed to know I hated him, and he gladly reciprocated that. His way of showing me? By humiliating me every chance he got.

I hadn't understood why he hated me, I had always tried to be nice to everyone around camp; even him at times, but he knew just how to wear my patience thin.

I had been peacefully minding my business skinning the newly fresh rabbit brought in by the hunting party. The game they brought was enough to feed everyone for the next two weeks. A deer, two bunnies, and a bird. One girl also brought in a few plants for me to work with for seasoning.

I was the camp butcher and cook, having sadly lost the previous ones. Everyone always adored my cooking and I tried to work with what we had.

Well, everyone except Murphy.

"What're you doing?"

The voice hit my ears like nails on a chalkboard, I didn't need to turn around to know who was about to pester me into a hole.

"What do you think I'm doing roach," I ask with heavy annoyance in my voice, still focused on skinning the rabbits while the water for the stew boiled.

"Poisoning the camp with your horrendous cooking," I could hear him walking closer to me, and my patience grew thin with every step.

"just go away-" I had been cut off by a loud crash.

He had kicked the pot of boiling water over into the dirt, drawing the attention of others.

This was my final straw.

Gripping the knife in my hand I swiftly grabbed Murphy, holding the bloodied knife to his throat.

"Fuck you, Murphy!" I shouted the blood from the rabbit was now on his neck.

Fear was masked behind ego in his eyes, I could tell he was scared by the way his hands defensively went up.

"I'm sorry, alright!" He spewed, something was relieving about hearing those words, seeing him so afraid of me. Though, anybody would be afraid.

Deep down I knew I wouldn't kill him, I knew the consequences of that. Killing Murphy wouldn't be worth getting tossed out of camp.

It had only been a few seconds before Bellamy was pulling me off of him. I didn't fight it, I just glanced around at everyone before picking up the pot and heading out to the river to collect more water while also clearing my mind.

There were never any final straws with Murphy around.

When I returned back to camp the air was thick with tension, and eyes were locked onto me as I prepped the broth for the rabbit meat.

I wasn't sure what Murphy could've told them, and I didn't care, if they chose to believe the cockroach then humanity was doomed.

It only took an hour to get the soup ready, everyone leaving me alone. I hadn't spotted Murphy yet, he wasn't terrorizing anyone, not making his presence known.

Was one threat really all it took to get rid of him?

Once I set up food for everyone I headed towards my shared ten with Raven, exhaustion quickly catching up with me. I had long forgotten about Murphy, the only thing on my mind was a peaceful night's rest.

Entering the tent I shrugged off my shirt, trying to change into a new one when I felt someone grab me from behind, making a yelp rupture from me.

I felt something cold and sharp press against my neck, fear instantly climbing up my spine as I thrashed around. The person's hand went to cover my mouth as he leaned in towards my ear.

"What're you gonna do now?" He whispered threateningly.

I instantly knew who it was, his scent invading my nose in a surprisingly good way. I tried to fight it, the thoughts of how his hands were on me felt good, this was no moment to think about Murphy like this.

He was holding a knife to my throat for fucks sake!

Knowing Murphy I thought he was really going to kill me, I soon felt regret for holding that knife to him.

I stopped thrashing around as it was no use, my breathing became wild as I prepared for the worst.

"Giving in to me so easily?" His hand uncovered my mouth, fingers still touching my lips.

"Suck," He demanded, his tone of voice was strong despite being hushed so nobody would hear.

This was the last thing I'd expect to happen with Murphy.

I couldn't help the lower sensation begin to rise throughout my entire body as I opened my mouth, Murphy's fingers instantly invaded the wet and warm place. I felt fuzzy and vulnerable all over, soon realizing I was enjoying this.

"Good girl," He said, making my thighs clench together, trying to get any type of friction to my clit.

Over time the blade on my neck didn't scare me, the fear turned to pleasure. My lower body became needy, the taste of his fingers being engraved into my mind as I was sucking wildly as if it was Murphy's cock and not just his fingers.

I could sense his smirk after I let out a soft moan, he was enjoying this too. Having me under his control, to do whatever he wanted with me. The thought could've made me cum then and there.

"Remember this next time," He whispered into my ear.

His knife trailed up and down my body, making me shiver at the coldness of the metal.

He suddenly retracted his hands to his sides, making me miss his fingers and the authority he held over me.

I turned around and he was leaving the tent, the taste of his fingers still vivid in my mouth.

I had debated running after him and demanding an explanation but I stood there, starstruck.

It didn't take long for me to snap back into reality, the thoughts I had about Murphy hit me like a train, embarrassment suddenly replacing the feeling before. I tried reminding myself I hated him, but despite everything I told myself, my body longed for his touch once again.

I wasn't sure what possessed me that night, I was sure it'd pass after a night's sleep. But I wasn't even safe in my dreams, his touch followed me everywhere.

Who knew weeks of hate could diminish with a few touches?

Though I still hated him.

I was sure of that.

But I couldn't stop my attraction.

I couldn't stop my mind from roaming in places it shouldn't.

I couldn't.

The only day I wish he annoyed me, he didn't. He would walk right past my butcher table, right by me. As if the previous night hadn't happened, as if his fingers didn't fill my mouth searching every crevice and crease.

Every so often Id catch him stealing glances at me- or at least I thought I did.

But I knew it was true when he was the first in line for breakfast, taking an extra long time to pick out his decision, forcing the tension between us to grow thicker. It was like he was torturing me like he knew just how bad I needed him.

The feeling had become too much for me, I quickly filled the bowls for dinner and rushed off to my tent once again, needing to relieve myself at least a little bit. I knew Raven was working with Monty in the dropship to figure out the wristbands so I had a bit of time to myself.

Rushing into my tent I dropped my pants and threw them onto a nearby chair. I climbed into the makeshift bed and began sucking on my own fingers, trying to mimic Murphy's movements the best I could.

I couldn't believe myself, getting off to the guy I despised with every ounce of my being. The way his middle part looked, how his nose was a bit too big for his face, how dark his blue eyes looked. I imagined every part of him, going back to that night in my mind.

My other hand snaked down to my clothed pussy, rubbing myself through the fabric while a series of moans escaped my occupied lips.

"Murphy..." I let out unrestrained, speeding up my movements.

"Yeah?" I heard someone ask.

My eyes instantly shot open as I scrambled up, staring at the one and only Murphy. How did he keep sneaking in her without me hearing?

He walked closer to me, "Don't let me stop you," He spoke, staring down at me.

I was frozen with shock, unable to process what just happened. How much had he seen? My face must've been a bright red by now.

"Too scared now? I said, Don't let me stop you." His hands found their way to my throat, giving it a light squeeze. I wasn't sure of his motives but I knew, in this moment, I was more turned on than ever.

The grip he had on my throat only turned me on more, now soaking through my panties.

I shakily began rubbing myself through my panties again, my nerves shooting through the roof. The man Id been having fantasies about was now watching me fuck myself.

Murphy swiftly unbuckled his belt and undid his zipper, bringing his hard cock out in front of my face, the sight had me drooling while he smirked down at me.

"Put that practice to good use," He spoke, tapping his tip on my lips, the hand on my throat now running to my hair, grabbing a fist full of it causing me to open my mouth just enough for him to thrust into it. He released a low groan at the initial feeling, the taste of his cock now invading my mouth.

I swirled my tongue around the shaft of his dick while he fucked mercilessly into my mouth, gripping my hair tighter every time to keep me still. With every thrust he hit the back of my throat, sending chills down my entire body.

"Thought you hated me," He said in between grunts, "Now you have my dick in your mouth," His familiar smirk was still planted on his face, he'd never let me live this down.

I felt his dick twitch in my mouth before he pulled out, tear snow streaming down my face.

"Fuck you," I said in between breaths, regaining my composure.

"Yeah, don't worry, you're about to." He took me by the arm and made me lay flat with my ass in the air.

His hands grabbed and slapped at my ass, making me squeak out pathetic moans. Grabbing the waistband of my panties he dragged them down, revealing my soaked pussy.

"You sure you hate me?"

Before I could reply he had already trusted into my pussy, giving me no warning. the sudden filling made my back arch. Murphy threw his head back, relishing the feeling of my tight pussy around his dick.

He didn't let me adjust before he was thrusting deep inside of me, unable to control his urges. The pleasure was unlike anything of felt before, his length made it so easy to hit every spot inside me, spots I'd never even known of.

"I hate you!" I moaned out, I wasn't sure if it was true or not anymore, I just didn't wanna give him the satisfaction of knowing I loved being fucked by him.

"Want me to stop?" He retorted. He knew I didn't want him to stop, so when I didn't answer he grabbed a fist full of my hair again, forcing me to prop my arms up to support myself. The grip on my hair only helped him pound into me further, not giving me any chance to think.

I wasn't just full of Murphy, I was full of hatred. I hated the fact I enjoyed this so much, hated the fact I never wanted it to end, hated the fact he could make me feel this good, hated how much I loved this.

"Fuck, Murphy!" I felt the familiar wave of my climax race up my body, making me shake with pleasure as I came around his dick. This didn't stop Murphy, in fact, it only fueled him more.

"Just let it out," He spoke breathily, my arms felt like they were gonna give out but before they could he pulled my hair, bringing my back to his chest as he held me up. "Let everyone in camp know how good you feel right now,"

His hands snaked up my body to my neck, giving it a tight squeeze, something I never thought I'd be into until Murphy.

"I hate you," I moaned out between cries and breaths, my sweet spot now becoming sensitive as he kept relentlessly fucking me.

"Sure looks like it," He smirked into my shoulder, now beginning to suck and bite as his own climax was nearing the edge.

The grip on my neck was enough to make me cum again, the tightening helping Murphy reach his own high.

Murphy quickly pulled out of me, shooting his load onto the ground of the tent, laying his head in the crook of my neck while he caught his breath. I leaned into his touch while his hands slid up and down my sides, tracing each curve with admiration.

"Same time tomorrow?" He asked muffled.

"Go fuck yourself,"

Despite my words, he knew I wanted it just as bad as he did.

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[8:53 pm]

The cold air on your face paired with the bright flashing lights outside your building are making you feel annoyed- more annoyed than you already were. It had been a long day to say the very least without having to relive every annoying detail. All day you’d been looking forward to getting home, changing into your comfiest pajamas, and going to bed early. And you had done just that. It was 8:30 when you had turned everything off and the darkness of the night paired with your fresh sheets were just seconds away from taking you to dream land when the alarms started.

Loud, obnoxious alarms paired with bright flashing lights which indicated that either someone had done something stupid, or your building was actually on fire. Each possibility was bad, one just scarier than the other.

You moved quickly, grabbing your phone from the charger despite the 12% charge and made your way down three flights of stairs along with other tenants to the front of your building. Minutes later a fire engine pulled up, yet another loud siren blasting down the road. A group of heavily dressed individuals jumped from the truck and made their way to meet the building manager before ascending the stairs to where you assumed the trouble had started.

You all waited outside, some of you tiredly rubbing your eyes, some finishing their meals, others calming their kids. You hugged yourself to fight off the chill, the night breeze biting through the thin cotton of your sleep t-shirt and cotton pajama pants. Not the attire you should be outside with. Your eyes dusted over the numbers on the fire engine, too annoyed and tired to recognize that it was the from the station you passed everyday to get to and from work. The fire station with the very cute fireman you made it a point to try and catch a glimpse of everyday.

“Everything is alright! Someone forgot about a pot on the stove, just some excess smoke. It’s alright to return to your apartments! Have a good night,” one of the firefighters called out.

Everyone collectively sighed in relief and began making their way back inside while your building manager subtly pulled one of the tenants aside. While you were busy being nosey, you missed a step and felt your body begin to fall forward. You were fully expecting to fall and feel the sting of the fall on your knees when instead, someone’s strong arms caught you.

Your heart raced and you opened your eyes to catch sight of someone’s very cute concerned face looking right at you. Fireman!Jeno’s lips were moving but you were so enamored that your brain wasn’t even comprehending.

His face scrunched up in concern, “are you alright? You didn’t hit your head while we were on your way down, right?”

You blinked at him, finally tuning into what he had been saying, “oh, yeah, sorry. I’m fine, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking.”

“Glad, I could be there to keep you from getting hurt,” he smiles softly. He helps you stand upright and pulls his helmet off to tuck it under his arm to reveal more of his handsome face and soft looking hair. With his free hand he reaches out with one of the cutest smiles you’ve ever seen, “I’m Jeno.”

You shake his hand, feeling the worn leather in your hand while you introduce yourself. Even through the thick material Jeno’s hand is strong and warm, “I actually walk by your station on my way to and from work. It’s nice to finally see you guys, even if one of my neighbors was being stupid.”

Jeno perks up a little, his eyes dawning an interested twinkle, “oh? I guess I’ll have to start hanging around the trucks near the front of the station some more. Gotta keep an eye out for cute, clumsy civilians and all that.”

There’s no way this extremely handsome fireman is flirting with you right now, right? Someone straight out of thousands of people’s fantasies is coming onto you? It has to be some kind of dream you’re having right now.

And it’s certainly your exhaustion making you flirt back! Some kind of hail mary confidence before your body collapsed from sleep deprivation is what it must be!

You let out a soft, flirty laugh, “it would definitely give me something to look forward to during the day.”

“Then I think I can find something to keep me busy around the times of 8 and 5 o’clock,” he smiles back at you.

His crew has finished packing everything away and one calls him to hurry up. His eyes leave his coworker and fall on you with a somewhat apologetic look, “I’ll look for you tomorrow morning. Nice meeting you, have a good night.”

“You too, stay safe, Jeno,” you smile, waving at him until he climbs into the fire truck and waves back as they drive down the street.

You’re the last one standing outside your building, still in shock at what had happened. The cutest firefighter just hit on you and told you he’d keep an eye out for you on your way to work! You’d never moved as fast as you did to get back to your room and will sleep to knock you out to start your day even faster. You were going to make sure you saw him tomorrow.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 8

Scott Summers + cock cage or other bondage

Do you guys ever wonder what I listen too when I write smut? Lately it’s been system of a down, who’d have thought. This is also the same reader as in this post, cuz I’ve grown attached to him. Also, the fact that he’s as much of a bicycle as Wolverine is funny to me. think of this as a part 2 for that, at least in spirit.

Kinktober 2024 masterlist

Becoming more with Scott honestly didn’t change much with your dynamic. You two were still best friends, the best of bros, as some of the younger mutants liked to say. You two just kissed and were grossly flirty, enough for some of the younger x-men to start gagging loudly whenever you two got too affectionate.

Scott was worse with you than he was with Jean. With Jean there was still some professionalism or privacy when others were around. You had a tendency to grab Scott’s doors and just throw them right off the hinges, so it was no surprise to see you two leaning up against each other and mumbling flirty things back and forth.

That didn’t mean every part of your relationship was public. The mutants able to see through things understood people’s privacy, so the only person you had an inkling who knew what was going on was Logan. And that was only because you two had done it together before. You had not shared that fact with Scott, even though you loved when he got jealous.

But for the most part, nobody realized that Scott had started wearing thin bondage rope or ribbon under his everyday clothes. It was a tad harder to hide under his hero suit, so you guys just stuck to the cage when it came down to that, since you both wore cups during that time anyways.

It hadn’t even been your idea at first. You had maybe planted a few seeds, by mentioning that you knew how to do shibari and bondage, and Scott had stumbled upon your own cage that he hadn’t used in years but still kept around. Warren had some fantasies, alright? And who were you to judge, when he let you run your hands through his feathers when you’d fuck him from behind.

It had taken Scott quite a while to mention how much he actually liked the idea of bondage, shibari or other kinds of being locked up, but by god were you interested in helping him explore that. You two started out light, just tying some ropes around his body to get him used too it. It was hard to be completely immobile when you guys had lives like you did, what if something happened and you needed to suit up as quickly as possible?

But over time, Scott got used to it and wanted more. The moment he mentioned you locking his cock up and wearing the key you almost passed out, so much blood rushing to your second head you almost fell over. Scott knew he didn’t even have to wait for a reply from the way the lightbulb in the lamp started flickering, sparks of electricity popping between your teeth.

The first many times were only in the bedroom, with Scott whining and writhing on the sheets, or humping the mattress or whatever pillow he could find as he just couldn’t get hard, couldn’t get off how he wanted. Instead, all he could do was leak like a broken faucet as you flicked small safe amounts of electricity against his back and shoulders.

Over time Scott got more comfortable, and as someone who had for lack of a better word “been around the block” you let him come to you at his own pace. You knew what you liked, having tried out many things, so now you wanted to help Scott find his. Him asking you to tie him up for everyday use did have you lightheaded again, the bedside lamp actually popping this time, much to your lovers grumbling.

Using the thick sturdy ropes, you used in the bedroom wasn’t the best choice for everyday use, since it would be visible through his polos and jean, so you two settled on a nice sturdy ribbon in your favourite colour. And just to make Scott flush every time he had to go to the bathroom, you tied a nice bow around his caged cock, just because you could.

Scott didn’t last a full day the first time you did it, or the next, or the one after that, but you also knew it was a process and you were more than happy to give him his aftercare and praise. Soon enough though, Scott could go about his natural duties as the leader of the x-men, even with a nice stainless-steel cage wrapped around him, and a rougher but still easy to hide material wrapped around the rest of his body.

Your favourite part though, was still when the day was over, when you two got to cuddle up in bed. Or the times where Scott barely got into your shared room, before his knees buckled under him and he would crawl towards you, wanting so much that he could barely form words. Of course, you had trained him better, so you never did anything without his asking.

On days like this you got him tied up nicely, you had even brought up the idea of kink tape a few times, just to see him twitch and writhe in want. You didn’t feel daring enough to bring up those videos you’d seen of men completely taped up or hanging from the ceiling, not yet at least. You did have a gut feeling that Scott was watching the same stuff though, having seen his attention linger longer on thumbnails to those videos than others, when you two got off together.

It became quite common for you to not get off, at least when Scott got like this. Just seeing how much of a mess he turned into was satisfying enough, and after you had completely wrung him dry you were more focused on his aftercare. You two had both become experts on what to do and check for after having scenes together, since Scott was more turned on by being electrocuted than you had imagined he would be.

The only reason you even did it was because of how ingrained electricity was in your body, and how much expertise you had with it, if it had been dangerous then you would have rather died. Seeing Scott in nothing but his shiny steel cage and ropes did have you feeling less collected than you were used too, leaving you with the feeling that he was doing it on purpose sometimes.

Though, your all-time favourite had to be when Scott was nice and tied up, so you could tongue at his torso and cage as much as you wanted, letting small snaps of electricity strike from your tongue against his pecs, or his cock. It was never enough to hurt, but just enough for Scott to give a jump and needy howl, wail, or whimper, depending on where he was at mentally.

The aftercare was as satisfying too, Scott cuddling up against your chest as you rubbed him down, small disapproving whimpers leaving him when you slide his cage off. You always have to shush him, clarifying that you’ll put it back on, after making sure everything was okay. Scott always pouted a little, but cuddled back against you like the good boy he was. And thankfully you’d gotten smart enough to stock up on lightbulbs, and get him so fucked out he forgot you’d broken the last ones.

[ohbo-ohno]

merry christmas @luminousbeings-crudematter, here's the ghoap x reader purge au! (a week and a half after you posted about it... im so sorry)

5.7k, mind the tags <3

cw: ROUGH NONCONSENUAL SEX in all caps, pwp, under-prepared/painful anal sex, some pretty intense fear stuff, people covered in blood and referenced violence (it's a purge au lol)

Your hands tremble where they’re tucked close to your chest, blood sticky and thick between each finger. You feel coated in it, like someone has taken a brush and gone over every inch of your skin, painted you in red.

It’s in your mouth. You can feel the warmth of it on your tongue, the taste of iron sickening. You tell yourself that maybe you bit your tongue, that it’s not really your ex Phil’s blood coating your teeth.

Your thin pajamas are hardly any protection against the chill of the night air, less so with how soaked they are. The stench of piss is heavy in the air, a mixture of yours and his, but you don’t have time to go back inside and change.

You’re running on pure instinct, an animal urge deep in your mind insisting you run. You’d always thought you’d have more of a flight instinct than fight. Despite how you feel now, how your legs itch to carry you as far away as possible, the cooling corpse left behind tells you the truth. 

You stumble into the wall, a wave of nausea knocking you off balance. There’s a trail of red left behind as you use one hand to balance yourself, the other held protectively over your heart. 

Your security system - cheap, but usually enough to let you sleep through the Purge - is completely destroyed. There’s no chance of it protecting you, and the bust in windows will let anyone on the streets see your vulnerability. You’ll never feel safe there, and you can’t shake the need to run.

There’s no chance of any of your neighbors helping you. There’s some neighborly camaraderie between your floor-mates, but that all disappears on Purge night. It’s every man for himself, every year, without fail. You know that. You even think the same as them, pretend no one else exists when that siren goes off every year. 

But now, shaking and terrified, you wish you could knock on a door and see it open. Hear the security system disengage and see a familiar face, beg for help and thank them on your knees.

It’s a nice fantasy. Reality is less kind, seeing you shake with a dawning chill as you manage to shoulder open the door to the stairwell, cringing when it slams behind you.

The cold cement is rough on your feet, and a distant part of yourself worries about slipping - your feet are slick with blood, and you can hear yourself leaving a trail of footsteps. You don’t try to slow down, holding tight to the metal railing and shuffling down the stairs.

You’re halfway down the first of four flights when the door on the next floor opens, a large figure stepping into the stairwell. Your stumble to a stop before you even register that you’re not alone anymore, and you’re backpedaling before you even fully realize.

He’s big, his face covered in a red skull mask. From your vantage point you can see his hair is shaved into a mohawk, and he’s shirtless with only a pair of gray sweatpants on.

He’s drenched in blood. Even more than you, and you feel like you’re drowning in it. If you’re painted in blood, someone took a bucket and dumped it on this man. You can hardly see any unmarked skin, and you wonder for a split-second if the skull was once white.

There’s an audible grin in his voice when he calls up to you. “Look’it you, bonnie thing. You tryin’ to run?” He steps to the side, leaving a wide open space for you to pass him to the next staircase. You’re frozen where you’re leant against the railing, hardly able to breathe. “C’mon, give it a shot.” 

You listen, scrabbling further back and all but throwing yourself up the stairs on all fours. You’re only the need to get away, an innate fear that tells you to get as far from the blood-soaked man as quickly as possible. You swear you hear him laugh as you launch yourself up the next flight, panting already.

There’s no safety found in going up though, as hardly two flights later you’re tugged to a stop by your instincts alone.

Standing above you, hardly six feet away and blocking the door he must’ve just come from, is another giant. This one fully clothed and with a white skull mask, somehow bigger and more intimidating than the man you can hear coming up the stairs behind you. You can’t see even an inch of skin, black gloves on his hands and mean black combat boots reaching nearly his knees.

There’s a moment, before the chase ends, where you contemplate jumping over the railing. There’s no going up, there’s no going back, and you can’t even begin to imagine what these two men want with you. The only thing that keeps you from throwing yourself over is the fear that you wouldn’t die on impact, that you’d be left injured and even more vulnerable to these men.

You’re not sure you could’ve tried that plan had you even wanted to, because the moment it forms fully in your mind a pair of thick arms wraps around you, and a heavy weight forces you to the ground.

You cry out at the sudden shove, palms scraped raw against the cement. The man behind you covers your body completely - his knees bracket yours, his hands rest on either side of your head, and there’s no part of the back of you that isn’t cloaked in him.

He doesn’t say anything as he ruts against you, the blood from his chest soaking through your tank top and making you cringe further away. You can’t stop the quiet stream of whimpers as you try to shrink into the stairs, try to get away from the beast behind you. He doesn’t care, only drops more of his weight onto you and pantomines fucking you.

You can feel the outline of his cock through his pants, as thin as the clothes both of you are wearing are. If you weren’t wearing your shorts, if he tugged the waistband of his pants down, he’d be inside of you.

The thought makes you tear up, makes you want to slam your head back and try to knee him in the balls, makes you want to fight.

But all your fight is gone. It died with Phil and your security system, and you’re left only with a weight in your bones that makes you wish you could sink through the floor. 

The hard plastic of the skull mask presses to the sensitive skin of your cheek, biting into the fat there. You can see the gleam of bright blue eyes in the sockets, the creases at the edges that tell you he’s smiling.

“You gonna fuck her here for the first time?” The white skull asks, voice deep enough that you hardly register the words. Your eyes are jerked to his form and it makes you shiver to see him sitting on the top of the staircase you’re pinned to, legs spread wide as he stares down at you with a cigarette between lips exposed by the tilted mask. You feel like a sacrifice, thrown to the stairs of a temple for a god.

“Can I?” The man over your shoulder pants, accent roughened from his own movements. You can’t tell if the wetness between your thighs is piss, blood, or an even worse option. You bite your tongue to hold back a whine, wince at the burst of iron in your mouth.

The man above you tilts his head, smoking blown into the air. “You fuck her here, you won’t get to go again on the roof. Don’t need you gettin’ spoiled.”

Your nails dig into the concrete, folding beneath the pressure as you shake beneath the red skulled man. He whines over you, like a petulant kid being told no for the first time, but goes still against you. That alone has you blinking open damp eyelashes, watching him from the corner of your eyes.

“Alright, I’ll wait,” he pants, chin resting on your soldier. “Give ye some time to get ready, huh lass? It’ll be easier for ye then. Just think about what we’ll do to ye, how good it’ll feel to get properly fucked, yeah?”

You sob when he grinds one final time against you, your hips pushed into the harsh edge of the stairs. 

He’s dragging you up after that, hardly letting either of you stand fully before shoving you up the stairs. You can’t catch your balance and let out a small cry as you fall back to your knees, mouth twisting in pain at the unforgiving surface against your naked knees.

You flinch when a gloved hand grasps your chin, tugging up until you’re forced to look towards the white skull above you.

You’ve landed between his feet, a boot on either side of your body, and if you’d moved forward even another half foot, you’d have face planted into his lap. 

Your heart skips a beat when you realize you’re making eye contact with him. The dark brown of his pupils blends almost seamlessly with what must be black paint smeared around his eye sockets, and the only reason you even realize you’re locked in a staring contest is the way the light reflects off the whites of his eyes.

You don’t have time to try and move away from him on your own (or, more accurately, to throw yourself backwards and pray you didn’t break something falling down the stairs) before a pair of bare hands are shoving you up from beneath the armpits, making you almost squeal as you jerk in the direction you’re forced.

“Up, c’mon,” red skull grunts, hands flitting from one part of your exposed skin to the next as he herds you upstairs. “Need to get inside ye, kitty, fuckin’ walk.”

You sob as you stumble up the stairs, the top of your foot scraping painfully against the concrete. You glance over your shoulder just in time to see White stand to follow you two, but you’re nearly sent sprawling again when Red only shoves you all the more harshly.

“Pl-please,” you manage to gasp, shoulder roughly bouncing off the wall. A glance up tells you you’re two full flights away from the rooftop. “Please, I don’t know what you want, b-but…” You can hardly talk around the sobs floating in your throat, choking you. “Please, please don’t hurt me.”

Red groans as he tugs you nearly off balance, the sound echoing off the walls and full of what you can only describe as hunger.

“Fuck, haven’t even gotten ye naked yet ‘n yer already beggin. Knew ye’d be perfect for us.”

You can hardly see through the tears in your eyes, the rest of the trip up to the roof all gray with streaks of red and black. You can’t focus enough to try and get away again, can’t get enough of your panic under control to fucking think.

The red skull catches you when you almost go careening over the rails, one broad hand catching you by the chest and gripping.

He groans, you flinch. “Fuck, cannae wait to get my mouth on these.” He pinches with his whole hand, your breast going sharp with pain on every fingertip. You whine, flinching further against his chest and trying to shrink away.

“Keep movin’, Soap.”

“Aye,” Red - Soap - pants, and you can practically hear the saliva gathered in his mouth when he swallows. “C’mon, kitty, only a little further.”

The blood on your hands has dried by the time White is shouldering open the door to the roof, your hands itching and the red flaking away every time your fingers twitch. The night air is a cold shock, just jarring enough to tug some reason back into your brain.

Soap doesn’t stop his herding until you’re far enough from the door for his partner to block it with an old metal chair, the back tucked under the door handle. You tuck your hands beneath your arms, shoulders curled in in an attempt to preserve warmth.

You wouldn’t have expected the night to be so cold. Half of the street is burning - flames painting the sky, giving you the exact opposite impression of the biting chill you feel. There are dozens of people in the streets, carrying guns and axes and chainsaws and all sorts of other weapons you can’t see. You feel bile rise in your throat when you realize the dark pools reflecting flames in the street are blood, not water.

“Fuckin’ finally,” Soap grumbles, and you don’t have any time to think before his mouth is pressed forcefully against yours, tongue shoving at your lips.

Your eyes are wide open, unlike his, and you make a shocked sound high in your throat at the sight of his maskless face. You can’t really see what he looks like with the way he’s pressed against you, but it’s a shock nonetheless.

You keep your lips pressed tightly together, no matter how much his tongue prods and tries to force its way into your mouth. You feel more than hear him laugh against you after a few long seconds, and one of his massive paws comes up to cradle your jaw pointer finger against your temple and thumb under your chin.

He stops trying to force himself between your lips after almost a minute, instead shifting to just… licking your lips. His tongue paints wide across your mouth, soaking you in his saliva. He’s almost scarily determined in the way he accosts you, his grip tight on your face as his other hand shifts to bruise your hip, covering what feels like the entire bottom-half of your face in his spit. You can’t help but grimace, trying to pull away from him, but he’s pressed too close.

“Can’t fuckin’ wait to be in ye,” he pants, breath warm and wet against your cheeks. “I know yer gonna squeeze me just right, bonnie, can tell already.”

“Please,” you say, voice weak. “Please, don’t, I don’t want you to-”

His groan is guttural. “Ye wanna know a secret, bonnie?” His voice is quiet between the two of you, bright blue eyes boring deep into yours when he pulls back. To your endless frustration, he’s handsome.

He leans close, whispering so low that you almost have to strain to hear hum. “That’s what makes you fun. Wouldnae be draggin’ you up here if ye wanted it, could get you any other night of the year for that. But it’s Purge night, lass… so you go ahead and fight as much as ye want, yeah? Just makes it more fun for me.”

You can’t help but sob at that, fat tears streaming down your face as he maneuvers you. You feel disconnected from your body as he forces you down to the ground, your soft belly left exposed when he pushes up your tank-top to cup one of your breasts, a whimper crawling out of your throat at the way the gravel presses into you.

You feel his breathing grow heavier as his hands move down to your shorts, shoving them off your hips and leaving them loose around your calves, completely disregarding your pitiful attempts at crawling away.

“Poor thing, been stuck in these the whole time? They fuckin’ reek, bonnie, no offense. That his piss or yours?”

You shake your head against the ground, face twisted up in acute humiliation. For some stupid reason you don’t want to even begin exploring, you find it necessary to whisper, “H-his.”

Soap hums, and you curse yourself inwardly when the humiliation is slightly alleviated.

“Get ‘em off her,” the white mask says, and you can’t help but jump at the sound of his voice. He’s sat on a large box only a few feet away, leaning back and relaxing, looking for all the world like he’s settled in for his favorite show. “Don’t want anythin’ of his touching her now.”

The sound Soap makes at that is animalistic, a snarl coming from deep in his chest that makes you flinch as he all but tears the shorts from your body. You wince at the wet splat of them landing several feet away.

You force your forehead into the gravel when your knees are forced wide, a rough hand and another pair of knees spreading you.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no…” you can’t help but beg, voice trembling. “Please- god, please don’t-”

“Fuck,” he moans over your shoulder. “Yeah, keep goin’, lass.”

You sob at the feeling of warm skin against your bared behind, his thick length slotting itself smoothly between the slightly spread lips of your pussy. Your eyes squeeze shut and it takes all your willpower not to keep begging.

He slides himself back and forth against you for a few long breaths, using online the slight slickness from a mixture of piss and blood to get some friction. But to your immense horror, it only takes a few moments for the sensual movement against your clit to have your body preparing itself.

The slight wetness at your hole might be a betrayal, but it’s not nearly enough to ease the way when he pushes inside of you with no warning.

You nearly scream, a high sound of pure panic and pain when it feels like you’re being split in two. Somewhere off in the distance, you hear someone laugh. Right above you, Soap groans.

He’s buried himself to the hilt inside you before the pain has had any time at all to fade, and he’s fucking into you hardly a second after that.

Every thrust forces a grunt from your throat, the entire weight of him slammed into your back each time his balls smack against your clit. Your face is twisted up in a grimace, your whole body racked with pain that your assaulter couldn’t care less about.

“Fuck, kitty. Yer squeezin’ me so good, such a good girl, shit-! Knew you’d be ti-tight as a vice, fuck, but didn’t know you’d be squeezin’ me so tight I can hardly move.”

Your whine is plaintive, his moan is filled with pleasure.

“Yer gettin’ so wet for me, bonnie. Ye like this, huh? Bet you like it just as much as I do, gettin’ thrown around and takin’ advantage of. That it, kitty? Ye like being forced?”

You sob and shake your head against the ground, crying all the more when sharp pebbles dig into your cheeks.

“Naw, I think ye do. Why else’d you be- fuck, squeezin’ me like that?” 

“Cause- because-” you try, but you can’t get the breath in to get more than a single word out.

“Huh? Cause- cause-?” Soap mocks, his voice pitching up to mimic you as he plants himself deep inside you, grinding his hips against the meat of your ass. “C’mon, kitty, tell me why. Go on.”

“Cause I want you to stop!” You cry, balled up fist slamming into the gravel. You can’t help but whine ow when the sharp rocks poke into your skin, and Soap’s laugh shakes your entire body.

“Good,” he whispers, breath hot against your ear. “Squirm all ye want, lass. I love it when you fight.”

You can do nothing but go limp beneath him as he begins fucking you again, his pace somehow faster and even more relentless. It’s a small mercy that there’s no fight left in you, that you can’t give him any more pleasure. 

It certainly doesn’t stop him, though. Despite the fact that you’re doing your best impression of a dead fish, Soap pants and moans against your shoulder like you’re the single best thing he’s ever slept with. His cock is painfully hard inside of you, and his pace never once slows.

He’s loud when he finally comes, the sound of his orgasm clear enough that you know he’s thrown his head back to the sky. You can only whimper as he rolls his hips against you, working the last spurts of cum out of his cock and into your unwilling body. 

“Fuck,” he sighs in your ear, sounding far more satisfied than he has any right to. “Good girl, kitty. You were perfect.”

You sniffle beneath him when he slowly pulls out, both of you groaning at the sensation. He gives you an almost perfunctory pat on the ass, and stands to walk away. You manage to open your eyes and focus just in time to see him slide to the ground in front of his partner, leaning against the wall.

“Yer turn,” he sighs. “Warmed her up good for you, Lt.”

Despite the hatred boiling in your gut, you can do nothing but lay limp on the ground and watch as his partner stands, cracking his neck and moving towards your prone form. 

You want to run, you want to fight, but you can only watch the executioner come closer and wait for the metaphorical axe to fall.

He crouches by your head first, grasping your chin and pulling up until your torso tries to follow to alleviate the tension. He stares deep into your eyes for a long moment, and you find that it’s impossible to even tell where his pupils are with no real lighting. You feel like you’re truly looking into the empty eye sockets of a skull, no man and no mercy to be found.

“You’ll call me Ghost when I fuck you,” he rumbles, thumb stroking over the scrapes on your cheek. He doesn’t wait for a response, simply hauls you up by the shoulder and turns you onto your back. 

He’s rough with your limbs as he shoves your legs together and up, his forearm banding across the backs of both of your knees and holding them to your chest. You whimper and wiggles as best you can, but the bruising blow against your thigh is enough to have you gasping and stilling.

“Don’t fight,” he warns, and you feel his gloved fingers running up the crack of you. “You’re hurtin’ enough as it is, and I’m not gonna help. You wanna make it worse too?”

You shake your head, unsure if he can even see you through your legs. He doesn’t respond, and hums when he swipes two fingers through the liquid gathered between your lips.

You whine when those fingers move further down, a fresh panic creeping in when he presses around your back hole.

“You should be glad Soap fucked you so good,” Ghost drawls. “He gave you all the lube you’re gonna get.”

You feel like an animal when you whine again, unsure of how to even begin trying to speak. You yelp when a thick finger slides into your hole, completely disregarding any resistance and forcing its way in until it’s buried to the knuckle. Your cries go ignored.

“Quit squirmin’,” Ghost scolds, pulling his finger out to smack your ass before shoving two back in. “You’re fine.”

You’re not, you’re terrified and hurting and upset, but none of those things matter when Ghost only coaxes more of your slick and Soap’s spend to your unused whole so there’s less resistance. 

The only blessing you have is the fact that you can’t see more than the outline of Ghost’s figure with the way he’s got you positioned. You try your best to close your eyes and float into disassociation, and while you can’t fully manage it, the fact that you can’t see his face - his mask - helps you distance yourself from what’s happening.

The moment you realize this is of course the moment it stops being true. 

He seems to decide you’re ready after scissoring three fingers inside of you, hefting himself up so that he looms more fully over you. You can only whine as you feel the movements of him unbuckling his belt, feel the weight of him slap against your slightly spread cheeks.

Fresh tears fall past your lashes as you stare up into the fathomless darkness that are Ghost’s eyes. There’s nothing there, just a cold empty skull prepared to ruin you.

You don’t even have the energy to beg.

The stretch of him inside your ass is five times worse than Soap was. There’s no natural lubrication, and nowhere near enough synthetic lube either. Your hole feels like it’s on fire, the stretch white hot as he gives you no mercy.

You’re not even fully sure what you’re babbling as he slowly sinks to the root, only aware of the pain and fear and panic sitting heavy in your heart. You fear you’ll choke on your tears, head jerking back and forth.

He sighs when he bottoms out, heavy barrel chest forcing your knees past your shoulders. Your hips strain, just another pain from the endless abuse.

“There,” he grunts, patting your thigh when you go limp from it all. “Stay nice and still now, just need a place to dump my cum.”

Upsettingly enough, that hurts. The idea that you could mean nothing to this man is somehow worse than the thought of him having some other twisted feelings for you, your hormone-addled mind deeply insulted. 

His thrusts are long and slow, each one pulling nearly completely out before slamming back in. The sound of your skin slapping together is embarrassingly sexual, and a distant part of you is aware enough to pray that no one nearby had heard your screams and cries.

Ghost is near silent as he fucks you, the opposite of Soap. You can only hear the occasional grunt when you squeeze him because he’s inches away from your face - you can even feel the occasional gusts of breath when his hips start working a little faster. 

There’s nothing you can do but lay limply beneath him and take it, just a vehicle for his pleasure. You almost manage to float away, to pretend none of this is happening or has ever happened, when his free hand moves from your thigh to the top of your cunt.

You nearly squeal when he rubs your clit, the smooth leath gliding over your slick bud. Your eyes fly wide open, back arching as much as you can with three hundred pounds of man holding you down. The loud laugh from several feet away only makes you writhe more.

“Make her squirt, Lt!” Soap shouts, his voice carefree.

“Shut it, Johnny,” Ghost grunts, voice roughened with pleasure. You don’t even have time to focus on the fact that he’s just told you Johnny’s name, far too preoccupied with the tidal wave of pleasure rushing towards you.

You have no idea why it happens. You’re never quick to come - almost every single partner of yours has complained about you taking so long to get off, it’s been an Issue in several relationships. 

So it makes absolutely no sense that after hardly a minute of rough circles against your clit, you’re clenching down on the cock in your ass and moaning loudly as your orgasm overtakes you.

The natural clench of your body only makes the pain worse, a sharp spike of it running up your cunt and making your moan shift into more pained sounds. Ghost only moans in tandem above you, his thrusts becoming slightly less even as he lets your orgasm coax out his own.

You sob when you feel his cum paint your insides.

Unlike Johnny, Ghost doesn’t pull out after he comes. He lets your legs fall limp on either side of him, just barely managing to catch them for you before you slam your ankles to the ground. He leans his torso over yours, elbows resting on either side of your shoulders while you do nothing but wait beneath him.

He’s sweat off some of the makeup. This close, you can see hints of pale skin in the sockets of the mask. There’s nothing to read in his eyes, but that flash of skin tells you he’s still a man.

You swallow, trying to work moisture back into your dry mouth, and whisper, “Will… will you let me go now?”

You know it’s more likely he’ll kill you. It’s what you can only imagine happened to all those bodies in the streets, what you know happens to tens of thousands of women every year. 

So it’s not a surprise when he doesn’t answer you verbally, instead covering your mouth with his palm and pinching your nose shut with his fingers. 

Your eyes flutter shut after a moment, lungs tightening already, and all you can hope is that suffocation is a quick death.

———————————————————————

You wake, gasping, in a dark room. 

You’re lurching forward before you’re even fully aware that you’re awake, coughing loudly and gasping when it feels like your throat is bleeding.

“Oh, poor thing,” you hear a familiar accented voice coo, and a moment later there’s a warm hand patting your back. “Yer alright, deep breaths.”

You jerk back from Soap - Johnny - as soon as your coughing is under control, scrambling back on your palms and staring at him with wide eyes. He only grins at you, looking for all the world like any other normal man in his sweater and sweatpants.

He got changed at some point - these pants are clean. He’s not wearing his mask either, and you’re struck dumb by how non threatening he manages to look.

He also changed your clothes - or Ghost did, maybe. You try to cover your chest with one hand, but there’s no hiding the fact that you’re completely naked. 

Johnny only laughs at your attempted modesty. “Been starin’ at them for hours, lass. Ye’ve got nothin’ to hide.”

That’s… horrifying, and does absolutely nothing to calm you down.

It’s then that Ghost rises from a chair, stepping forward and making you aware of his presence. “Calm down, Johnny. We don’t want her panickin’ this early.”

Soap fully pouts, tilting his head at you before glancing up at his partner. “I haven’t even done anythin’, Ghost. Was just sayin’ hi, tha’s all.”

Ghost snorts, gripping Johnny’s mohawk and tugging back until the other man sprawls back on his ass. “You know how you are, pup. Give your kitty some space.”

Johnny listens, crossing one leg beneath him and bending the other close to his chest, looking casual as can be. Meanwhile your heartbeat only gets faster, and you wince when you happen to lean too far one direction and feel a throbbing reminder of what these men did to you.

Ghost steps forward again, crouching just out of arm's reach. You realize he’s not wearing the same skull mask as before, but a balaclava with a printed skull pattern instead. His eye sockets are unpainted, and you’re shocked by how such little things make him look so much more human. 

“You can calm down. Long as you behave, nothin’ much worse’ll happen to you.”

You find yourself almost comically not-comforted by that, and can do nothing more than stare at him with wide eyes. 

“Where…” Your voice cracks, so you swallow and start again. “Where am I?”

It’s Johnny who speaks up. “Our place. We finally brought ye home with us, kitty.”

The world feels like it’s slowed around you, and your eyes drag from one kidnapper to the other. You have to swallow again to work any moisture into your bone-dry mouth.

“Is the Purge over?”

The creases at the corner of Ghost’s eyes are painfully obvious with how pale his skin is, and you shudder at the thought of him smiling.

“Been over for… what, five hours now? Somethin’ like that.”

You can’t fight the tremble in your voice now. “Then… then you have to let me go.”

Ghost’s head tilts, the creases get deeper. “Do I?”

You nod with as much conviction as you can - which is almost none. “You can’t keep me here. You’re breaking the law.”

Ghost leans closer on the balls of feet and you lean further back, your spine pressing into the wall behind you. “Are we now? And who do you think will stop us, pet?”

“The- the police. Someone will report me missing, they’ll come looking.”

“Oh? And you think they’ll come here?”

You nod as best you can, and jump when Ghost laughs. It’s low and quiet, only a few beats, but it’s like gasoline thrown on the small fire of panic in your mind.

“You have no idea where you even are, and you think they’ll find you? I hate to break it to you doll, but you’ll be lucky if they look for you for a week. You have any idea how many people go missin’ after the Purge?”

Your breath is quickening. “So that’s it? You’re just going to… going to keep me here, forever? What are you even going to do?”

His laugh is sharper, meaner this time. “We’re gonna do a whole lot more of what we did last night, pet. Keep you as a little cocksleeve, a pretty thing tucked in the basement just for our entertainment. Ain’t that right, Johnny?”

You manage to tear your eyes away to look at Soap and see that he’s nearly salivating, having inched closer and closer and shifted so he’s knelt behind Ghost. There’s a feral spark in his eyes that has every hair on your body standing straight up.

“Yeah, tha’s right. Don’t worry, lass, we’ll make sure yer never lonely. Might even stay the night with you, cuddle up in the winter. Bet ye could keep our cocks nice and toasty in the cold, huh? Gonna let us use ye as a little heater?”

“A heater, a mattress, a fleshlight… your future’s lookin’ bright, sweetheart,” Ghost drawls, mockery dripping heavily from the cruel words.

Your eyes dart back and forth between the two men and their predatory stares, your heart racing against your ribcage.

It’s not a conscious choice for you to launch yourself towards them, reaching out and clawing your sharp nails down Soap’s face with a feral scream that tears your throat to shreds. 

Even as Ghost throws you off and forces you to the ground, you vow to fight these men to the end. You’ll kill them both if you have to, leave them dead and wander however many miles it is back to your apartment.

Ghost only laughs when you shout this in his face, and you scream as you lunge forward, just managing to catch his masked chin between your teeth and bite.

With your fight instinct back in full force, you’re ready to make their lives hell.

[kagakuoniryu]

Alastor x reader I've written randomly to vent about a shitty situation I'm currently living

Summary : a new guest you knew from your past life arrive at the hotel, she was that one person who bullied you throigh high school, but she mooks too angelic to be guilty

Code : E/n (ennemy/name)

Tags : fem reader, etablished relationship, angst for the most part, there will maybe be a part 2, mentions of bullying, reader is TRAUMATIZED, english is not my first language, may have some inaccuracy about the show since I'm just projecting, and of course probably ooc characters

It wasn't a bad day, at least not in a place like hell, it was even quite nice, charlie was babbling about a new team bonding activity as usual, and it was nice being with your friends, until around 2 pm...when a new guest arrived...

Oh you remembered her...from high school, so pretty, so popular, she was you best friends ! You should have been overjoyed to see her down here !

Well...not exactly, because she wasn't your best friend anymore, you hardly bear to be in the same room as her, of anger, from your history and how your friendship ended...but also of fear and dread...

You were both teens back then, you and eager to have many friends ! You had your own group of friends, and she was a separate individual, spending her time with her boyfriend often, that's okay by you, you were happy for her, and when that boy left her you welcomed her with open arms ! You became best friend soon, even inseparable ! You heard her badmouth you to your friend group from time to time, but she told you it was okay, it was "to know who was fake" then, one by one, your friends ghosted you, but you had her, she was there at least, making new friends, each time you introduced her they left soon enough, you thought that maybe you were the problem and stopped trying, your best friend was there after all

Until a boy came along, love at first sight for you, he had everything ! He had so much...your best friend wanted him too...and with that, she had him, when you called her out she called you an homewrecker and a toxic friend getting in the way of her relationship, that ended badly and an argument followed, while you stayed on the down low, she texted your few friends left, and any new friends you managed to make telling them how awful you were, so you ended up closing your media althogether, moving away, and never hearing about her ever again

And there she was, she didn't really looked different from her time on her, a round face and blond hair, she didn't looked like she fitted in hell, but you you were different, your body jointed like a doll, mocking your life as the puppet of those who wanted to play you, but if not your appearance, your personnality changed, you were more confident, your boyfriend was a powerful overlord too ! No, not boyfriend, he proposed a month ago after all, he was your fiancee now, and you had friends, through thick and thin, you knew they wouldn't buy into her lie at least !

Having an hard time to breath you sucked it up, maybe she wouldn't recognize you ?

Wrong

How wrong

"Hello ! Welcome to the hazbin hotel ! Guys this is our new guest !" Charlie started with her usually cheerfulness

"Hi everyone ! My name is E/n, I barely arrived in hell ! And I figured that if I could, I would want to be redeemed ! After all everyone deserves second chances !" The girl said back

Her voice hasn't changed, neither her tone, that fake nice tone you used to hear every day, here, one again in flesh and blood, not through a phone, not through class, but..here...

Breathing harder than ever, you only went back to reality when husk called out to you

"Hey ? You seem weird, like you've seen some ghost ?" His tone nonchalant as always showed half concerns, but for him, it was a lot

"A glass, of whiskey, or vodka, whatever you got, strongest you got please"

"Wowowo...alright, that's not your type to drink, what's up...?"

"I-I...I know this girl...she...listens, I can't be in her presence sober, I knew her from where I was alive...we had...some bad conflict...she did some awful things to me, and I got bad issues after that...I said some mean things to her too, we were kids, but since then I'm scared I'll lose all my friends again !"

Husk just nodded at my whispered rant, trying to calm myself, I didn't even insisted on a glass and went straight to my own room since alastor and I didn't shared one yet, not before marriage he said

Later that day, angel vaggie and charlie passed by my room, concerned by my absence, I told them everything, how I ended up abandonning the notion of making friends when I was alive, the calls, the insults, they looked at me with compassion, charlie said she believes that she could have changed, and even if I doubted it, I wanted to believes it

Alastor arrived to spend some quality time with me, dancing on old jazz music far from my time, reading a book, basking in silence with each others

After a while, I thought I could talk about E/n with him, he was my fiancee after all ?

"Al ?" I started, unsure

"Yes my dear ?"

"You know about that new guest at the hotel ?"

"Ah yes, what a cultivated lady, quite entertaining, she was really into songs from the 1980s not my style at all, we had a long discussion about music genres, she's actually quite against modern technology and that picture show"

"Oh...so...you like her company ?"

"She is not insufferable if that's your question"

Finally you decided against your first idea, perhaps she had changed in the end ? Perhaps a new friendship was possible ? With healthy fondation, you could get your bestfriend back !

Wrong again

You revealed her the next day who you were, well, used to be, what linked the two of you back in the living realms, for others, nothing changed, but for you it was subtle, for exemple she never interrupted anyone, but when it came to you each time your mouth opened she would cut you out

She was such a charmer too, a quality you envied her, her audience was captivated, and soon even alastor was her aquaintance, he presented her rosie of course ! Just like he did for charlie !

And just like he did for you...

Rosie found her delightful, and from your tea parties at 3 with her and alastor, became 4, adding E/n

A comment about your appearance back in high school, an embarassing moment you had, a silly crush, every single detail of your life was used to mock you, even your crush on a video game character

Soon you always found excuses to avoid going to the tea party, and spend most of our time outside of the hotel, feeling akward in her presence

You tried talking about it to charlie or maybe vaggie, to no avail, they said how nice E/n was and how much progress she was making, if they weren't saying you sounded silly thinking that in these 3 weeks she took your place, you still felt like it...

And it all confirmed when, after a whole day of searching for everyone, they finally came back to the hotel from shopping...without you

"Finally you're here toots ! We tried searching for ya before going but you weren't anywhere !" Angel started, holding many bags in each arms

"What do you mean ? I was in my room all day ?"

"Wait you weren't out ? E/n told us she saw you leave ?"

"Oh I'm sorry my eyes deceived me...next time I'll still check your room !" As everyone looked sorry I couldn't help but see it, even for a second...

She smirked...

Of course she did, she never changed

This started becoming common occurence, either the others left you behind, or you could leave the entire day without them noticing, and at some point, angel, husk and sir pentious started to distance themselves from you

"Hey angel, hum...you wanna hang out...? Go to a club, or drink with husk, just spend some time betweens pal ?"

"Sorry sweet cheeks, but we're partying with E/n tonight and...she doesn't feel comfortable around you..."

"Wha ? Angel what are you talking about ?"

"She told us about it, about the two of you, hos jealous and manipulative you were, you even tried to make her dump her boyfriend, that wasn't cool of you, I don't want to take side on this, but if I hang out with one of you, I'd rather not force her to be with the other for both your sanities"

"Oh...ok"

That's all you could have mustered, because what was there to muster, you were in hell, all the proof you used to have were on your previous phone in the living realm, but even if angel and the other favored her, mayne your fiancee could understand your side ?

Gently you knocked on alastor's hotel room as he called you to come in, he was currently eating his dinner, a...fresh venison...but you shook your head lightly, taking a sit across the table

"Al, can I vent to you for a bit...?"

"What is it my dear ? But please, spare me your story with E/n, as much as I love a good gossip, the young lady did you a favor by never taking vengance in the living realm, I wouldn't want the two of you to get in troubles once again"

"Al, please it's serious, she's telling lies about le ! And you believes her ? I'm your fiancee ! She's in hell as well !"

"And so are you, and so am I, I am not interested in knowing the why who is were, but I admit your little querrel is...quite entertaining !"

"So your fiancee see her ex bully...and all you think about is entertainment ?"

"Well, ma chère (my dear) as far as we are all concerned, without proof, both of you could be the liar, it's about, who's able to convince the public, just like on a stage"

Alastor's half sadistic smile didn't amused you, you just sighed, getting up, wamking slowly toward the exit of his room, if even your own fiancee, the man you loved refused to believes you, who would ?

You couldn't see alastor's curious expression as you left, he just wanted to prolounge the fun and not outright gives you the solution, but seeing you give up almost made him that for once he screwed up badly

[moonstruckme]

hey, i love your writing so much!! can you do something with remus where reader is really upset over doing bad on an assignment and he comforts her. i had an essay today and i KNOW i failed😭😭i fr need a remmy

Thank you gorgeous! I hope you did better than you thought <3

modern au

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 831 words

Remus can feel some sort of upset building inside you. You’ve been quiet ever since dinner, a glumness accumulating around you like a thick fog. He’d call it a sulk if your usual kindheartedness didn’t seem so intact. But every smile is thin-lipped and you’re making painfully slow progress on your section of the puzzle, your eyes too often going cloudy and distant, off to somewhere Remus can’t follow. 

“Think I’ve got one of yours,” Remus murmurs, pushing a puzzle piece towards you. 

You take it with a low hum of thanks. 

He watches as you put it in your pile. His section of the puzzle isn’t coming along much better; he’s too worried about you to focus. You’re teetering on the edge of some sort of fracturing, he can feel it, and he doesn’t know what to do or how to make it better. 

He tries a new tactic. “Do you feel like some dessert, love? I might nip to the corner store for a sweet.” 

“Sure, that sounds good.” The smile you give him this time is more a grimace than anything else, and then you’re pushing yourself up from where you sit on the floor. “I’m going to go to the restroom.” 

Remus watches you go with a hollow ache in his chest. During dinner, you’d gotten an alert on your phone, and the change had been instant. Your shoulders had drooped at whatever you’d seen, your lips parting and then pressing determinedly together before you’d set your phone on the table, face down. Remus didn’t ask, and you didn’t seem inclined to bring it up. But whatever it was has clearly stuck with you. 

He gives it a few minutes before he follows. You could actually be in the bathroom, but he doubts it; he thinks he knows where you’ve gone. There’s a small gap between the bed and the wall in your bedroom, just barely big enough to walk in.

That’s where he finds you. Slouched in the corner as if you’ve misbehaved. 

“Hey,” he says softly, cramming into the space in front of you. He places his feet on either side of yours, your drawn-up knees slotting between his calves. “Why’re you hiding from me?” 

You’ve got your face covered with your hands, and your voice muffles into them when you speak. Still, the evidence of your crying is audible. “Because I know I’m being stupid.” 

“You’ve never been stupid, not once in your life,” Remus replies lightly. He takes your wrists in his hands, letting his thumbs run over the sensitive skin. “If you tell me what’s wound you up so badly, I can tell you if it’s stupid, but I doubt it is.” 

You lower your hands without his asking. It takes a good deal of self-control not to crumple at the sight of you. Your face is blotchy, a terribly sad downturn to your pretty lips, and when a tear globs and drops from your eye, Remus feels like someone’s thrust their hand into his chest and squeezed.

“You’re too nice to tell me if I’m being stupid,” you say, a teasing note to your voice despite your sorry state. 

Remus goes with it. He nods, faux serious, and gives you a look of great solemnity. “If any stupidity comes to light, I promise to laugh at you for the rest of the night.” 

You start to smile, but it crumples halfway through. “I really messed up.” 

There’s no joking to his seriousness now; he feels his brows bunch as he rubs a path up your forearm, desperate to soothe you. “How, sweetheart?” 

“I did really badly on my essay,” you whimper. “I know it’s dumb to cry about but I just—I really wanted to do well.” 

His heart swells with sympathy, though there’s a bit of relief that comes with it. “That’s not stupid,” he promises you, working his hand up your arm to your shoulder. It’s halfway to a hug, and you lean towards him a little, craving the comfort. “To some people, it might be, but you put so much pressure on yourself about these things.” He kisses your knee. “I’m sorry you’re disappointed, lovely, but it’s going to be okay.” 

You shake your head, sniffling. “The grade’s already in. There’s nothing I can do.” 

“I know,” Remus says apologetically. He moves closer, looking into your eyes so you can see the sincerity in his. Your chin wobbles. “It’s done, but you’ll be alright. You’ll still graduate, get a job. In a year from now you won’t even remember this.” 

You lean forward, pressing your forehead against his. You’re still weeping, but it’s slowing. He sets both hands to your cheeks. “You did your best, sweetheart. Keep trying. You’ll be okay.” 

“Promise you won’t leave me if I fail this class?” you joke.

Your efforts win a rare smile. Remus scrunches his nose against yours. “Promise. It’ll take a lot more than that, you’ve got me all settled in.”

[monster-disaster]

[owlman] Mr. Harkins

owlman!Mr. Harkins x human!Reader Good to know: no smut, just a bit of a dom x sub thing, humiliation and spanking

Summary: The librarian has to punish you when you are late again.

"Miss Flores, you are late again," Mr. Harkins's stern voice welcomes you the moment you enter the library. A grimace pulls on your face as you find the male at his desk, not even looking up from the screen of the computer. The bright light follows the curve of his beak and reflects on his round glasses in front of his wide golden eyes. "I apologize, Mr. Harkins," you reply. Your voice is thin and quiet. "I didn't have time…" you start as you approach him. Your steps seem loud in the quiet room. "I don't have time for your excuses," he cuts in before you can continue your explanation. "If you can't follow the rules, you can go and buy the books instead of borrowing them." You don't even dare to reply as you grab the books from your bag and put them on the old wooden table in front of the owl. They are heavy and thick in your hands. "Did I make myself clear, Miss Flores?" Mr. Harkins asks, looking up at you from his seat. "Yes, Mr. Harkins," you nod, clearing your throat when you feel it tightening. "I will do better next time," you promise. He rolls his eyes. "I heard it before, Miss. I don't need your empty promises. I need you to bring back the books in time." "Yes, Mr. Harkins," you reply. "Now, go," he says, motioning to the long row of bookshelves behind you. "I don't want to see you." "Yes, Mr. Harkins," you repeat yourself, almost whispering.

Your friendship with the owl started well enough when you moved to the city two years ago. He was happy for the new face and welcomed you to Meriad with open wings and several suggestions about which books you should read when he heard about your preferences. He was respectful and kind. Then, your job began to be too demanding, and you started getting late with bringing back the books you borrowed. He was patient and understanding at first, but his demeanor changed for the worse every time you were late. Before you knew it, the male you thought was a new friend looked at you like you were his biggest enemy.

It was too late, though.

You were madly and deeply in love with him by the time, he started hating you.

That's why it hurts so much when you are late with his precious books. You hate to disappoint him. You want him to be kind and nice to you again, even though his anger and sternness always do things to you, no matter how much you try to deny it.

Wanting to get away from him as fast as possible, you quickly disappear behind the bookshelves. They tower over you easily, hiding you from his dark gaze and the burning of his attention on the back of your head.

You need long minutes to calm yourself down and start to focus on the books around you. 

The familiar scent of the old building and papers fills your nostrils as you wander through the long rows. Your fingers caress over the spine of the books as you read the titles.

The orange glow of the setting sun filters into the library through the tinted windows. They illuminate the tall walls and glint on the chandeliers hanging off the painted ceiling.

The library is quiet and calm. You can hear someone moving around from time to time, but you don't pay attention to them. You focus on the books, picking one or two up every now and again to get to know more before deciding to keep it or put it back. By the time you are done, your arms hurt under their weight.

"Great," you grunt under your breath, pushing down your anxiety because of the fact that you have to face the angry owl again.

Well, if you are lucky, his co-worker…

But no.

Mr. Harkins already stares at you with a scowl on his feather-covered face when you appear from behind the shelves. The golden of his eyes seems vivid and liquid in contrast with the whites and browns of his feathers. The yellowish color of his hands at the end of his wings matches with the shade of his beak. His black claws are short and blunt.

"No," he breaks the silence as you drop your collection on his table with a quiet thud.

Your brows lift in surprise. "What?"

"If you borrow so many books, you will be late again."

"I won't," you tell him, feeling like a child under his stern, scolding gaze.

"Don't lie to me, Miss Flores."

"The policy says one can't borrow more than ten books," you tell him. You shouldn't be brave enough to talk back, but him not letting you take as many books with you as you want almost feels humiliating. "It's only eight," you add, pointing at the pile between you and the angry bird.

"One last time," he grunts.

The few minutes while he takes care of the books and you put them away are silent, tense, and awkward. Shame and guilt burn your cheeks because of your argument. You are sure he has to force himself not to ban you from the library, and you are not sure what stops him.

"Thank you, Mr. Harkins," you break the silence, adjusting the straps of your bag on your shoulder as you make your way to the exit. "Have a good night."

"Miss Flores," he calls after you. "If you are late again, you will be punished."

Hearing his warning, your lips open with shock, but no words come out as the door closes behind you.

-

After you called the library for an extra two weeks and Mr. Harkins's co-worker was the one who answered the phone, you thought you were safe. Two weeks should be enough for a book that is barely longer than two hundred pages. In other circumstances, it would have been enough if not for your job. The hospital changed your shifts at the last minute, and after working long hours at night, you were too tired to read at daylight.

You should have returned the books two weeks ago.

Two weeks.

Mr. Harkins will ban you from the library; you are sure of it. You have two weeks to accept the fact that you will have to go to the other side of the city if you want to read without leaving a fortune in the bookshops.

But facing the owlman? Yeah, your stomach turns with anxiety when you think about it.

You sit at the table in your small kitchen. The books are in front of you in a pile as you stare at them accusingly as if your being in trouble is their fault.

What if you don't take them back? What is the worst that can happen? Maybe you have to pay some fine. And you can never go even near the library again, afraid you will meet Mr. Harkins. But with your luck, you will meet him somewhere else. And he will tear your head off in the middle of the street in front of everyone.

"Shit," you groan, holding your head in both of your hands as you lean onto the table with your elbows. You want to say more, but the ringing of your phone doesn't let you. The familiar sound fills the small flat.

"Yes?" You answer without looking at the screen. It's probably the hospital, anyway.

"Miss Flores?" You can feel your blood freezing in your veins at the sullen voice. "The books, Miss Flores."

"Yes," you gasp. "I will return them today."

"After the library is closed."

You frown. "What? Why?"

"Am I clear, Miss Flores?"

You gulp, fidgeting. "Yes, Mr. Harkins."

"Good," he grunts. "I will wait for you."

Okay. What is the worst that Mr. Harkins can do to you? Ban you? You already accepted the idea. Maybe he will make you clean up the library or help with the books. He can't do that, but you wouldn't be brave enough to say no if he asked.

You spend the whole day with rocks in your stomach. You try to calm yourself and be careless about it, but you can't lie to yourself. You are in trouble.

By the time the library closes, you are in front of the building, trying to gather your courage to make yourself enter.

The sun is already setting. The lights reflect on the buildings around you, gliding across the windows. The library's tinted glasses glint under the orange glow. The traffic behind you on the road is still busy and loud. The sound of honks and the rumble of engines echo off the tall walls, vibrating in the autumn breeze. You have to step and move every now and again so you are not in the way of anyone who has better things to do than stand in front of the library. You reach the entrance door like this, with quiet apologies and smiles.

When you finally enter, the library is even more silent than usual, and the desk not far from the entrance is empty.

This is your chance, you think with a sharp inhale. You put the books down, leave, and never come back.

"Miss Flores, you come." Mr. Harkins's voice mixes with the quiet thud of the books as they land on the hard surface of the desk.

Your heart stops beating for long seconds.

"Yes," you squeak out. "As you wanted, Mr. Harkins."

"See? You can be a good girl, Miss Flores if you want to."

You are sure he can hear the change in your breathing when he calls you a good girl. Anxiety and excitement rush over your body, going straight between your legs.

"I will go now," you tell him, still not having enough courage to turn and look at him. "I still have things to do and…"

"Not so fast, Miss Flores," he says, stopping you before you can move even an inch. "I still have to punish you."

At his words, you turn to him. "Mr. Harkins, I-"

"Turn back," he commands, and you can't help but scowl at him. He wears his usual three-piece suit. The brown shades of the fabric match his feathers. His round glasses rest on the base of his beak.

"Turn. Back," he repeats himself. "Before I make your punishment worse."

You do as he says.

"Take off your pants." His next demand makes you freeze and burn at the same time. Your cheeks heat up as you feel his waiting gaze on your back.

"Mr. Harkins-"

"Do I have to tell you everything twice, Miss Flores?"

"No, Mr. Harkins," you reply, unbuttoning your jeans to push them down to your knees.

"All the way," he says. "I want you to spread your legs."

Fuck.

Even though you feel humiliated, your pussy thinks otherwise. You are already wet and aching.

"What if someone sees?" You ask quietly.

"It's just us, little girl," he says. "You don't have to worry."

You nod, keeping your mouth shut. His gaze is heavy on the curve of your bottom even though you still wear your panties. You are curious if he can see the wet patch on the fabric or if you are not that soaked yet.

"Now bend over and spread your legs." He is getting closer.

Pushing away the books from the way, you follow his command once again. You want to know what happens next.

"Good girl," he hums, and your pussy throbs at his praise. Yeah, you want to be his good girl. You imagined the librarian so many times but never quite like this.

"Push out your ass," he says from above you. Your insides twitch at his closeness.

Fuck.

His hand lands on the small of your back. His touch is warm and slow as his hold slips down to your bottom. He grabs the flesh there, squeezing and groping you. His claws still feel sharp even though you know they are blunt.

"I will spank you," the owlman states.

His fingers slip under the waist of your panties, pulling down the fabric until it stretches around your knees. The library's air feels cold on your heated skin.

"How many days ago you should have brought back the books?" Mr. Harkins asks.

"Fourteen days ago," you squeak out. Your cheek is pressed against the wooden surface of the desk. Your hands are next to your head in small fists.

"Uh-uh," he disagrees. "Before that, you asked for two more weeks."

You gasp and almost stand up, but the owlman's other hand stops you from doing that. "That's too much," you tell him.

"It is," he agrees with a sigh. He sounds amused. "Let's stay at fourteen, but you have to count them loudly, and I will add one more every time I don't hear you."

"Yes, sir," you reply.

His chuckle is satisfied as he smooths down on your ass cheeks, warming up the skin for what happens next.

"Good girl," he says. "Now, count."

The first slap comes suddenly and powerfully. Your whole body jerks and jumps at the pain that strikes through your skin.

"One," you cry out.

Another slap. "Two."

Three more. "Three, four, five."

Your bottom burns under his assault. Your flesh jiggles after every loud smack that echoes off the walls.

"You don't know how many times I imagined you like this," he says.

"Six."

"Every time you were late, I wanted to bend you over the desk or my knees and spank that sweet ass of yours until they were red and ripe under my hand."

"Seven."

"At first, when you started coming here, I thought we could be friends, you know? He asks without wanting an answer.

"Eight."

"I thought you were a nice girl who respects the library's and my rules, but no."

"Nine." At this point, your ass is on fire.

"You had to be late every damn time."

"I'm sorry," you cry and gasp. "It wasn't my-"

Smack. Smack.

"Mr. Harkins!"

"You didn't count, bad girl. Add two more."

"No, wait!"

Smack. Smack. Smack.

"Ten. Eleven. Twelve."

Your face is wet from your tears, and your pussy pulses with need. Sobs shake your body as you cry. You hate to disappoint him. Guilt and pain eat you while he still keeps you down on the table. Smack. Smack. You count loudly and hoarsely.

"Two more, sweet girl," he says, caressing the redness of your skin. He is more gentle now, giving you a few seconds to take deep breaths and calm yourself down.

"Two more," he repeats, "and we will be done. Your punishment will be over, and you will be forgiven, alright?

"Yes, sir," you nod, still sobbing.

"Good girl."

Smack.

"Fifteen," you count.

"And one last."

"Sixteen," you gasp, relieved.

"Good girl," he praises you, caressing your burning skin. "I know you can be a good girl if you want to. I'm proud of you."

Every praising word and touch lifts something off your chest that lets you breathe again. The tears stop but your pussy still throbs and aches. The pain Mr. Harkins inflicted on you was nowhere near enough to lessen your desire for the owl.

"You want something else, aren't you?" He asks, amused again. "Your pretty cunt is sopping wet."

His hand glides down to your center. The tip of his finger is rough against the slit of your cunt.

"Mr. H-Harkins," you gasp, pushing yourself against him. "Please."

"Uh-uh," he hums, shaking his head even though you can't see him. His wide eyes shine with hunger and satisfaction. You are wet and slick under his touch. The scent of your arousal is thick and heavy in the air.

"I can't reward you after your punishment, can I?" He chuckles, still playing with your wet folds. The tip of his finger finds your clit every now and again but never stays there for long enough to make you feel good.

"Please," you breathe out, pressing your forehead against the desk. It's cold under your heated, slightly sweaty skin.

"How about this," he says, still exploring your pussy as he talks. "I let you choose three books now, and if you bring them back in time, I will give you a reward you want."

"Okay, sir," you answer. You know you can do nothing but agree.

"Good girl," he hums, leaving your pussy to lean down and take off your panties.

"Mr. Harkins?" You gasp sharply.

"I will keep them," he smirks. "Now go and choose three books, Miss Flores."

Your legs shake as you get up from the desk and make a few tentative steps to the shelves. The skin of your inner thighs is wet and uncomfortable.

Stopping in your tracks, you look back at the male over your shoulder. He is leaning against his desk with his wings over his chest. His golden eyes are sharp and satisfied as he looks over your half-naked body.

"Go on, little girl."

You feel humiliated and excited at the same time again as you wander between the shelves. His eyes are on you the whole time. 

You are not sure where this all will lead you with Mr. Harkins, but you know for a fact that you will return the books in time.

- Masterlist Meriad Masterlist Patreon

[hotluncheddie]

For the @steddie-spooktober day 22 prompt : leaves

rated: E (?) | cw: none | tags: housewife role play, feminisation, established relationship

🍁💕🍁💕

Eddie bought the place from a guy Hopper knew. A plot of land in Illinois, just outside Kentucky. A place to rest, to build roots. A new home.

After four platinum albums and near constant touring, Eddie made his lawyer find a clause in his contract titled ‘give me a fucking break.’

So after a final summer of shows. Eddie bought the land officially and did the closest thing he could to marrying Steve Harrington.

He bought a home for Steve, to get him away from the city. He was always complaining about it, about wanting a change - especially now that Robin had settled in an apartment with her girl and had gotten comfortable at her job with the museum. (Eddie flies them out during holidays. He’s rich now, and he’d do anything to put a smile on Steve’s face.)

So Eddie bought Steve a house, and a ring. And it was all very wholesome, and sweet. And Eddie always looks forward to coming back once he’s finished whatever show, interview or meeting that whisks him away. He’s always craving his little bit of wholesome, his little life of sweetness.

He’s also usually craving something else. Something that’s maybe less wholesome, and sweet, depending on how you look at it…

Eddie wipes the sweat from his brow, leaning over the pot of canned sauce he’s stirring. He still can’t cook, and every time worries it’ll mess with the fantasy.

But he can’t think about that now, checking he definitely set the timer for the garlic bread in the oven. He did, 5 more minutes.

He hears Steve kick his boots against the wall outside the frontdoor. He’d wanted to finish moving all the fallen leaves together to be readied for compost. They no doubt tacked themselves to the bottom of his shoes.

The door unlocks and Eddie scrapes a hand through his hair. He hears Steve shuffle around, taking off his jacket and hat. Eddie re ties his apron, pulling the strings tighter around his waist.

‘Honey I’m home!’ Steve calls.

Eddie tenses for a moment, then goes back to stirring. He shivers as Steve’s thick, work worn hands slip around his waist and squeeze. The smell of Steve’s hard earned musk making Eddie’s knees weak.

‘Hey baby.’ Eddie murmurs, as Steve kisses up the side of his neck.

The timer going off makes Eddie jump.

He shoos Steve into a chair and bends to take the garlic bread out of the oven, arching his back a little more than he needs to.

‘Okay, I, uh, think I just need to dish up.’ Eddie says, slightly frazzled, making sure everything is turned off and grabbing plates out.

‘C’mere a sec?’

Eddie turns, smoothing down his frilly apron and stepping over to where Steve’s sat, legs spread. In his flannel and blue jeans he’s as close to a cowboy as Eddie’s ever seen. (The tabbed off page of his old play girl doesn’t see much action anymore, rendered useless by the man before him.)

Steve pulls at his wrists, making Eddie sit straddling his knee. Eddie bites his lip at the friction on his cock through the thin cotton shorts he’s wearing.

‘How’s my best girl huh?’ Steve asks, pulling Eddie flush against him.

Eddie whimpers. ‘Good.’ He rasps. ‘Missed you.’

‘Missed you too, did you cook me something nice?’ Steve tucks a lock of hair behind Eddie’s ear.

Eddie opens his mouth to answer but Steve shifts his thigh and grips Eddie’s hips to grind against him. Eddie moans.

‘What was that?’ Steve asks.

‘Yeh, yes.’ Eddie manages. ‘Pasta.’

‘Ah, just like a good little housewife huh? Go serve it up then.’ Steve says, lifting Eddie’s writhing form off his leg and smacking him on the ass.

Eddie serves up two plates, hands shaking, dick tenting his shorts.

He can’t wait to see what Steve has planned for desert.

🍁💕🍁💕

Tag list (lmk to be added / removed) : @scoops-aboy86 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @marvel-ous-m @thecatkingsthrone

@cheesedoctor @chickensinrainboots @chameleonhair

[wh1sp3rr]

𑊡˚+₊🎁✦ — surprise + eren; drabble

cw: nsfw, established relationship, missionary, afab! reader, slight size!kink, softdom! eren!

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-

"let me in, baby..."

"i can't," you struggle. "i'm really trying but-" your pursuit was swallowed with a wide gasp, surprised and thick, only to be harmonised with a loud and satisfied moan.

eren hums in pleasure. "see?" he grunts, thrusting his hips further into you. “nice and full now,” he snarks, tapping at your lower belly before leaning down to kiss it.

you can only let out long ‘mmms,’ and ‘aahhs,’ the feeling of him driving you insane. he catches you off guard by cupping his hands underneath the curve of your knees, picking you up and keying further in you with a groan.

he’s ruthless with you. no mercy in his pounds— in his constant changes of pace to his liking. but it’s not like you should mind, you are one for surprises. it’s what got you into this mess after all. twirling around so playfully in your cut mini skirt, lacy bra on for a top. you’d thought you’d welcome your boyfriend home with a surprise of vixen eye candy. how stupid you were, not knowing that eren was only waiting for you to kneel far down enough for him to take a peek at your plush pussy, barely hidden away in the thin underwear you wore.

his hands, still under your knees, move to surprise you again with another swift action, pushing against them so your thighs were denting your chest, pushing in deeper and deeper every time eren’s hips oscillated as such.

the soreness of the stretch in your muscles piling onto your heat, eren so fucked out he pants into mouth when he leans down to kiss you, so eager and wanton.

his forehead is glassy and his bangs messy but neither of you care, both on the same chase for coming.

only skin-clapping and wet sounds from your exchanges are heard as they bounce against the walls back into your own ears, time and time again until eren’s motion stutters, and his tongue digs deeper into your mouth, him bottoming out as you both succumb to the pretty rise and fall of orgasm.

while he doesn’t completely remove his hands, he softens his grip and hums a loving moan, now kissing you with more control and purpose.

your hands move to his wet nape, hair darker from the curating sweat, rubbing your fingers up and down in a wave of passion.

over and over, movement after movement, kiss after kiss, you both stay intertwined in a way that begs a repeat of events that eventually succeeds.

[fatuismooches]

Been thinking about childhood friend Pantalone and reader, but with kind of a twist. You two are of course the greatest of friends, doing everything together as you've been through thick and thin, the (mostly) bad and (minimal) good times together. And your "friendly" activities also include kissing and holding each other as just "friends." Just hear me out. As you grew older and reached adulthood it was no question that you found your childhood friend quite attractive and those feelings of friendship were slowly budding into ones of love, but there was no way you were going to risk years of friendship over your dumb crush. You were content with the way things were now. Until one day changed everything.

It was honestly just a normal day of dealing with shit in order to get by in the world but you just felt so stressed and done with everything and needed to rant to your friend about everything and anything. And you did, and it probably got more heated than usual but oh well. He didn't respond, and you weren't really expecting one, you were just grateful that he was willing to listen to your ramblings. What you weren't expecting, however, was for him to randomly cup your cheek, the intimate touch surprising you greatly. You were about to question him until he kissed you. Your childhood friend was kissing you, on the lips no less.

It took you a good few seconds to comprehend what was happening but slowly you kissed back. Your friend had to be a natural at kissing, because it felt so pleasurable just to have his lips on yours. When you two pulled away, he asked you if you liked it. You did. He asked you if you felt better. You definitely did. He asked if he could do it again. You let him. And thus began the series of shared touches between you two. Whenever either of you were stressed or down, you two would provide physical affection to each other. Whether that was simple or passionate kisses or comforting all over the other's body. All under the label of "friends." Yes, just friends. Neither of you would speak or bring up the topic during these intimate times.

And you? You were greedy. Greedy, greedy, greedy. You decided that even if he didn't like you like that, you were happy to be touched by him and to touch him. At least, that's what you told yourself in the beginning. Yes, it did feel terribly nice, but it was also beginning to hurt you terribly bad as your feelings of love for your friend were skyrocketing at every passing moment, especially when he held you. Eventually, you couldn't take it anymore and you had to confess.

You blurted out his real name, following with an "I lo-" before your friend's hand quickly covered your mouth, preventing you from finishing your sentence.

"Not now, [Name]."

"Huh...? So you know already? About how I..." your voice died down as heat crept up your face. This was so embarrassing.

"Yes, I do. But I cannot respond to your feelings right now." Those words crushed your heart.

"Oh... I understand. So you don't..." Your friend sighed before he stroked your cheek, beckoning you to look at him again.

"I don't mean it like that. I mean I am not worthy enough to accept your love right now."

"Worthy? But you are! You're so kind and smart and sweet and- just all-around great! How can you not be worthy!" Your friend chuckled in response.

"I'm flattered you feel that way. But I'm afraid I'm nowhere as good of a person as you believe. In fact, although I know I can't have you right now, I'm greedy enough to want to have your affection all to myself." You could only murmur his name on your lips.

"So I ask you, please wait for me so I can become the man you deserve. Will you do that for me, [Name]?" Instead of responding, you pulled him in for an emotional kiss that spoke your answer instead.

It would have to do for now.

[justmeinadaze]

Secret Underneath Part 9 (Steddie X Plus Size Y/N)

A/N: This was inspired by hectic day at work I had on Wednesday and this is what I needed so I wrote it into existence.

Enjoy!

Warnings: Older (Mid thirties) Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Young (Early to mid 20s) Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, reader is punished for her spicy attitude, spanking, light slapping, light hair pulling, overstimulation, use of toys, cock warming, very very light degrading (brat, dumb little brain), aftercare of course, FLUFF, they all love each other

ANGST! Y/N comes home from a bad day with an attitude, boys put her in her place (in the best possible way), mentions of some of the down fall of the their ex saying things in the tabloids as well as some mentions of consequences of being with the guys. Y/N briefly talks about her weight and how people gossip about why she's with them (They remind her she's perfect as is no matter what she looks like <3)

More than anything Y/N has some big feelings and just want to throw a tantrum knowing her boys can handle that.

Word Count: 3819

Series here/ Donate to Me

You growl as you enter their (now your) apartment and toss you things on the table as you stomp like a child to the refrigerator to grab a beer. 

Usually when the little girl came out, she just wanted her Daddies to take care of her but sometimes there were evenings like this. Evenings where she wanted to throw a tantrum till she was heard (and put in her place). 

You three had been back home for the past couple of weeks and things had been hectic to say the least. Steve had been losing clients and investments left and right while Eddie’s band was dealing with cancellations in regard to the things their ex kept saying in the tabloids. 

For them you did your best to keep things together and be there for them when they needed you but after today you couldn’t hold it in anymore. 

Neither man had yet to need to do that with you so you weren’t sure how they would react but in this moment with the headspace you were in, you didn’t care. 

“Hey, sweetheart. How was your day?”

“It was really fucking awful, Eddie. How was yours?”

At your tone, his head tilts as his eyes watch you fume to the couch and throw your body down. 

“Did you want to talk about it?”

“No! I just want everyone to leave me the fuck alone!”, you holler his way as you take a sip from your bottle and slam it loudly on the glass table in front of you.

“What’s going on out here? I’m trying to work and all I hear is shouting.”, Steve asks as he comes up beside his friend. 

“Ask Y/N how her day was. I dare you.”, the rockstar smirks as he gestures your way. 

Taking in your sour demeanor, the mogul takes a seat beside you.

“Did you have a rough day, honey?”

“Wow. I wonder gave that away.”, you sass under your breath. 

It’s incredibly heavy; the change in the air signaling that they are stepping into that dominate headspace you desperately needed. You love it so much especially when it seeps out of the two men you love. 

“We’re going to try this again. How was your day, Y/N?”

Your annoyed eyes meet his angry ones as your face changes and you display a big, obnoxiously wide smile. 

“Oh my God, Steven. I had the BEST day! People were soooooo nice and my boss is just a delight. I can’t wait to go back on Monday and do it all over again!”

As you speak, his own features never falter as his lips form into a thin line and his chest huffs at every sarcastic filled word. Eddie on the other hand was having the time of his life as he continued to stand behind the couch watching in amusement with a small smile that told you things were about to get interesting.  

You and Steve stare each other down for what feels like an eternity before he blinks and rises to his feet. 

“Get up.”

“No.”

He didn’t even hesitate as he bent down and grabbed your throat between his thick fingers. 

“I said…get…up.”

Swallowing down the moan that wanted to break free at his tone, you ran through every possibility in your mind of how this could go. You could say no again and see what they do. You were already going to be punished so what would it hurt to rile him up more. You could listen and follow him but where was the fun in that? You weren’t sure how far you wanted, no NEEDED, them to go so you could feel better but—

A light but firm slap to your cheek brought all your thoughts to a halt and for that you were grateful.

“If I have to say it again, you won’t like the outcome.”

“I’m sorry.”, you murmur as your eyes fall. 

“You’re sorry what?”

I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“This is the one and only time I’m reminding you of that. You don’t answer correctly there will be consequences. Am I being clear?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

His amber eyes scan you over before gesturing with his head towards the bedroom and this time you follow without complaint. 

“Take off your clothes and then sit.”, he commands as he points to the bed. 

As you do what you’re told, you watch Eddie disappear into the closet while Steve goes to his desk to close his laptop that he had been working on. 

“Told you I had handcuffs.”, the rockstar grinned. “Turn around.”

Was he in the right headspace? With him, you could never tell in the sense of he could still be is goofy self while being in dominate mode. It’s one of the many things you love about him. Maybe you could push back a little and see—

A hard tug of your hair had your wide eyes staring up at him as he continued to smirk down at you. 

“I may be nicer than he is but that doesn’t mean I’m a push over.” 

Your eyelids flutter slightly at the gruffness behind his words. God you need them both to toss you around this room and fuck you senseless—

“Jesus, you really are testing the brat limit aren’t you, little girl?”, he growled as he yanked on your hair again. “This is going to be a long evening if you don’t start listening. Now…turn around.”

You do as he says and as he clicks the metal around your wrists, Eddie leans over your shoulder to whisper in your ear. 

“How is that? Not too tight?”

“No, Daddy.”

“Good.”, he grins before delivering a hard slap to your ass. “Now kneel.”

Holding your bicep, he helped guide you on to your knees in front of Steve who was sitting in his desk chair leaning to the side on his fist with that annoyed look still plastered on his face. 

God, he looked incredibly sexy in his button up shirt he had rolled up to his elbows with the slacks and expensive shoes that catered to his long legs as they stretched—

Another hash spank to your behind brought you back as you realized Eddie had squat down beside you on his heels. Shifting your gaze, the rockstar had placed one of the many toys you three had in front of you. 

Glancing back to face him, you licked your lips at his strong clenched jaw and the way his tattoos looked against his bare chest—

“Nope. Come back, little girl.”, he scolded as fingers roughly pinched your cheeks. “You wanted to act like a brat so we’re going to treat you like one. Pay attention because I’m only explaining it once. The rules are actually pretty simple but with the way your dumb little brain is having trouble staying focused…”, he laughed mockingly making your jaw tighten in his grasp.

“Control the fucking attitude, Y/N. Do you hear me?”, he growled as the man pressed his forehead to yours. “I said do you hear me?”

“Yes. Daddy.”, you answer through clenched teeth. 

Another light smack to the face had you reeling as your brain became fuzzy in the best way possible. Licking his own lips, his hand turned you to face him again. 

“Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Daddy.” This time your response isn’t filled with aggravation but desperation as you try to tilt your lips towards his before he pulls away leaving you wanting. 

“Ride.”, Eddie orders as his eyes gesture towards the dildo in front of you. “Don’t stop until we tell you to.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

As he leans back against Steve’s desk beside his friend, you lower yourself on to the toy with a moan and begin to bounce on your knees. 

“Keep your eyes forward, Y/N.”, the mogul commands. “Why are you being punished?”

“This—mmm—doesn’t feel like a punishment.”

The rockstar chuckles as he glances up towards the mogul who tilts forward, placing his elbows on his knees. 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. Keep going, honey. Make yourself cum.”

After what felt like an eternity, sore knees, and a few orgasms later, you felt your resolve begin falter. 

“No one told you to stop, Y/N.”, Eddie scolded as you lazily bounced upward. 

“My…legs…”

“Should have thought about that before you started being disrespectful.”, Steve replied calmly. “Color?”

“Green…Daddy…”

“Geez, Ed, look at her. Still so fucking defiant. We can do this all night if you want, baby. Since you’re having such a good time.”

Your body froze and you couldn’t help but softly cry as you tried to will it to keep going. 

“I-I’m…I can’t…”

Crawling to your side, ringed fingers lightly pushed you sideways and you groaned as you tipped over on to the floor. You hiss as Eddie removes the toy from between your legs and lifts you up to place you on the bed with your head hanging just so over the side. 

Pulling down his sweats, you couldn’t help but sigh as his hard, leaking cock was freed from its confinement. He was insanely turned on after watching you which had a sense of pride flowing through your body.

“Don’t get too confident, little girl. The punishment isn’t over.”, he chided as he leaned over you to slap your cunt with his palm. 

As he crawled to position himself between your legs, Steve slid over in his chair towards your head and lifted it up with his massive palm. 

You pushed back against him while mewling loudly as Eddie guided himself inside you. 

“Fuck me, she’s so fucking tight.”, he groaned as his fingers dug into your thighs. “Stop it.”, he scolded when you tried to roll your hips.

“I thought you couldn’t move anymore?”, Steve mused in a sarcastic tone. “I mean that’s absolutely fine, honey. We got you.”

The sound of vibration filled the room and you squealed when the man inside you pressed the wand to your clit. 

“You had the best fucking day ever, right? That’s what you said? What a way to end it huh?!”

Your eyes fluttered and your fingers dug into the comforter underneath you as you came hard around Eddie’s cock making his face twitch as his mouth fell open slightly. 

“P-Please, Daddy…move…”

“I think I’m—fuck—alright where I am. Just warming my dick in this quivering pussy.”

You whine like a child, even kicking your feet for added measure before you’re spanked a few times in quick succession and your legs fall against the bed.

The rockstar is ruthless with the wand in his hand as he presses it roughly against your nub and shakes it forcing a couple more orgasms out of you without once thrusting his hips.

That’s all you could think about as you began to sob; how badly you wanted them to fuck, hold, and praise you. How much you needed to hear their comforting tones again.

How much you loved them and appreciated everything they did for you. 

The vibration stopped and you sigh pleasantly as both of Steve’s hands clung to either side of your head as his breath warmed your ear. 

“Why are you being punished?”

“B-B-Because I was being a brat and—and disrespecting you both.”, you cried.

“Do you think Daddy deserved that?”

“No…no, sir. I’m so sorry.”

“And what are we going to do the next time we have big girl feelings like you did today?”, Eddie asked as he placed his own palms against the mattress, hovering above you.

“T-Talk to you, Daddy. I’m sorry. I-I-I got so overwhelmed and—”

“Shhhhh, sweetheart. Don’t think about that right now. All I want you to do is focus on my cock and how good it feels. That’s all I’m focusing on so I don’t cum yet.”, he whispers as his forehead rests on yours. “Your pussy is so wet, Daddy can slide deeper into you. Can you feel me, baby? Can you feel Daddy?”

At his words, he slowly pumps his hips eliciting a moan from your lips that has him smiling down at your beautiful face. 

“Yeah, you do, baby girl.”

His mouth descends on yours for a quick kiss before pushing up onto his knees and lifting your leg over one of his shoulders. Gripping your thighs tightly, he pounds into you at a blistering speed as the obscene echo of your slick fills the room. 

Eddie’s grunts drive you crazy and you would give anything to be able to touch him. 

“Come on, Y/N. Cum again for me.”, he pants knowing he won’t last much longer. 

As your back arches, he fucks you through you bliss and as your legs tremble, Eddie slams his release hard into your cunt as you whine at the force.

“Fuck.”, the rockstar grumbled as he allowed your pussy to milk him before rolling out of the way as his friend grabs your arms and manhandles you till your straddling his waist. 

His amber irises remain locked on yours as he unbuckles his belt and you lift yourself so he can push his pants with his boxers down his thighs. Taking ahold of his shaft, you gradually guided yourself down on to him with the two of you mewling at the stretch. 

“You got this, honey. Just grind your waist—shit—just like that. Go at your own pace.”

“My…pussy is so…tight, Daddy.”

Pushing up on to his palms, he tenderly kisses your cheek.

“Color, baby?”

“G-Green. I don’t…know how much…more I can take.”

“You’re doing so good, baby girl. Daddy is so proud of you. Can you give me one more? Just one more, pretty girl.”

Nodding your head, you bounced your hips as hard as you could relishing in the sounds of his heavy breathes as they fanned your face. Cupping your cheeks in his hands, he fell back on the bed bringing you with him as he kissed your lips. 

“I’m gonna fuck you, Y/N. Can your little pussy handle it?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy, f-fuck, please.”

Behind you, you feel his legs move and you can’t help but giggle when his pants get caught on his ankle. Softly grinning, he wraps one arm around your back to keep you balanced as he reaches down to kick them off the rest of the way. 

Planting his feet into the mattress, Steve thrusts up into you aggressively, hitting that overstimulated spongey spot inside of you as he clung to your body and held you against his chest. 

You didn’t hold back as the coil in your belly snapped and a loud scream erupted from your chest. At the sensation, the mogul’s hips sputter as he coats your walls with his spend. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Good…good girl, baby.”, he cooed as he pet your head but when he realized your tears weren’t stopping, he and Eddie locked eyes, silently having a conversation as they kicked into the other side of their dominate mode. “It’s ok, honey. You’re ok and your safe. I’m going to uncuff you, alright?”

As soon as you nod, Steve blindly reaches behind you till he hears a low click but when he tries to bring your arms forward you don’t move. 

“Baby girl, I need to look you over to make sure you’re ok. Can you sit up for me?” His heart breaks when you shake your head as you continue to quietly cry. “It’s ok. We’re right here, Y/N.”

“Sweetheart, can you drink this for me please?”

Again, you shake your head.

“I’ll make you a deal. You drink some of this water and let us do some aftercare and when we’re done we’ll order pizza from that place you like, have a beer, and listen to music.”, Eddie soothes, tenderly smiling when you finally lean back to meet his gaze. “There she is…so beautiful…”

Taking the bottle from his hands, you sip some of the liquid and he praises you as he takes it back to place it on the bedside table. Noticing you wince at your sore muscles, the rockstar promptly lifts you into his arms and carries you into the bathroom where he places you into the bath he had already made. 

After gesturing towards your wrists, you show them to him and he makes note of the slight indents in your skin as he rubs them gently with his thumb. 

“Do you think you’ll need some ice?” His eyes scan you over cautiously when your head shakes once more. “Baby, I know sometimes when you get into this headspace it takes you some time to come back but can you tell me one thing? This isn’t our fault is it? We didn’t push you too hard or too rough?”

Hearing the pain in his voice, you reach for his hand and thread your fingers between his. 

“No, Daddy. I needed this.”

“Ok.”, he murmurs. “Be prepared though, Harrington is going to do that panicky thing where he talks in run on sentences without taking a breath because he wants to see you smile.”

As if on cue, Steve rounds the corner in his boxers, still wearing the button up he had before with his phone in his hand. 

“Ok, I ordered the pizza so it should be here in about twenty minutes and I also added some more of that beer you like to it just in case. If you don’t want that, baby, we have wine that Eddie brought home the other day. I got the living room ready with some blankets and pillows but there’s no rush…”

The mogul’s voice trails off when he hears your laugh as his friend flashes him a big, toothy smile. 

“What?”

“No, nothing, man. You’re just doing that thing again.”

“I don’t think I’m going overboard here. She had a bad day!”

“Mhmm.”, Eddie teased as he helped you to your feet and guided you to the bed. “There you go, sweetheart, lift your foot for me.”

Once you were in some comfy clothes, they brought you to living room where Steve had indeed set up pillows and cushions from the couch into a little area with blankets in front of the glass to the back patio so you could see the snow that had begun to fall. 

“I’m sorry.”

“For what, honey?”

“I…I just need to…I don’t know…throw a tantrum…I guess.”

Grinning your way, Eddie reached out to push some lose hair behind your ear. 

“We understand, princess. We really do.”

“We didn’t go too far, right?”

“No, Steve, you didn’t go to far. It was everything I needed in the moment. Thank you.” As your voice cracked, both men scooted closer to you to comfort you. “I didn’t…go too far…right?”

“No, baby. You were perfect as always.”

“It didn’t occur to me till…till I came down from my high…that…that...” Tears began to fall again as you stuttered over your words. 

“Hey, take your time, Y/N. You can tell us anything.”, Steve cooed in his Daddy tone that made you feel safe. 

“When I was being a brat…We’ve never really talked about…Did I remind you of her?”

“Of who, sweetheart?”, Eddie asked genuinely confused. 

“Gina.”

“Oh, baby—”

“I know she was always bratty and a bitch, screaming at you and being rude…hurting you. You both have been going through so much lately because of her and it kills me. The last thing I want to do it trigger something or—”

A ringed finger over your lips silenced you while you were rambling. 

“You’re doing that thing Steve does.”, the rockstar smiles as his friend narrows his eyes his way. “No, Y/N. You didn’t remind us of her. What you did when you came home isn’t even close to how she was. Like you said, you threw a tantrum. She used to be vindictive. I don’t even know how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to.”, you whimper as you reach up to caress his cheek.

“Is that why you were upset? Because of what we’ve been going through?”, Steve asked.

“It’s part of it…”

“What’s the other part?”

“I haven’t told you this but…people whisper about me at work. They don’t understand why I’m still a teacher if I’m with men who have money.”, you roll your eyes. “Those whispers bother me the most because it just shows how people would use you.”

“What about the other whispers, honey?” When you jaw clenches and you turn away, the mogul lightly grabs your chin and brings you back around to face him. “Are they about Gina?”

“No…not exactly…they are similar to things she’s said. That there has to be some motive for you being with a girl like me because…”

“Because you’re full figured?”

“Because I’m fat and poor, Eddie.”, you snap. “Let’s not fucking sugarcoat it.”

“Look at me, Y/N.”, he growls in deep voice you had never heard from him before. “Don’t ever let me hear you talk about yourself like that again. You say that like those are flaws. Yeah you don’t make a ton of money but you’re doing something you love and are really fucking good at. Are you a bigger girl? Yeah but that doesn’t change how goddamn beautiful you are and how kind your sarcastic fucking heart is.”

As you laugh through your tears, they smile as Steve reaches out with to catch them with his thumb. 

“My final straw was when my boss called me into his office ‘to talk’. I was so terrified that I was going to be fired even though he said my relationship was fine but then he asked if Steve would be willing to invest money into the school so we can get new shit we don’t need and it just…” When you growl in frustration both men can’t help but chuckle as the rockstar leans forward to kiss your temple. 

“It still amazes me sometimes that a woman like you exists, Y/N.”, the mogul tenderly smiles as he tilts down to kiss your lips. “You are a rarity, baby. We’ve gotten used to people like your boss but you’ve never been like that. You have no idea how much that means to us. Add in your beauty and that kind, sarcastic fucking heart.”

The three of you giggle as Eddie sticks out his tongue and winks. 

“I’m so sorry you’re going through that, honey. Do you want us to talk to your boss?”

“No, Steve. I can handle it. Today was just…”

“A lot. Yeah, we get that. Things are, um, probably about to get heavier, sweetheart, since we have mediation soon with our lawyers and the Siren.”

That makes you cackle so hard that you fall into the rockstar’s chest as he presses your beaming face into him and kisses your forehead. 

“You two can throw tantrums to…if you need to…”

As the doorbell rings, they smile at you as Steve gets up to answer the door.

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