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thexsilentxwordsmith · 10 months ago

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: While on deployment far away, Simon takes a little time one night to video call you and talk you through you touching yourself to the sound of his voice.

***I'm giving something new a go. This is strictly through Simon's point of view as if he is directly talking to you; he is the only one speaking***

Word Count: 5.6 k

Warnings:

The jingle plays repeatedly until the video call connects and the image of you pops up the screen, laying on your side propped on your elbow as you seem to be just waking up for the day. A few stray rays of sunshine creep in from the side of the picture and shimmer through the strands of your hair so that even in your sleepy, disheveled state you still look like a painting. Simon keeps his camera off for the moment, but his voice comes through clear as day over the speakers; the connection is actually decent this time around.

“Well ‘ello there gorgeous. Surprised to hear from me? It’s been a fuckin’ minute, hasn’t it? I know it’s pretty early there, but I finally have a bit of time now that everyone’s asleep and I wanted to see ya.”

Simon keeps his voice low and hushed, trying not to draw attention to himself as he lays in his cot in the dark, the only light coming from the screen of his phone. His earbuds are plugged in so that he can hear everything with keen precision while keeping the others in his team from listening, just in case.

“You been doin’ alright there, luv? Keepin’ it all togetha for me till I get back? I know this time it’s been a bit longer, but it ain’t gonna be forever. I’ll be back before ya know it and then you’ll have me all to yourself.”

There’s a look on your face, something he immediately notices. A glint in your eye, a twitch of the corner of your mouth, a shift of your body as you adjust yourself under the sheets. Your texts to him over the past week, wondering when he would have time to actually call, were getting more and more desperate sounding and now reading your body language through the camera he is able to put it all together.

“Somethin’ on your mind, sweetheart? Care ta tell me what it is? Or should I guess? Cause I think I ‘ave a pretty good idea ‘a what’s goin’ on.”

He watches you bite your lip as you look away, a heat blossoming in your cheeks that flushes throughout your face. There it is, the sign he’s looking for. There’s only two reasons why your cheeks flush like that and you aren’t known to be drinking this early in the morning.

“Are ya missin’ me real fuckin’ bad, is that it?”

You look back up into the camera and give a distinct nod. He understands it well, as he has been pining for you since the day he left. That’s the other reason he has been trying to find time to make this call: he’s been missing his girl real fucking bad and needs some special time with you and only you, even if it’s just for a short video chat now that he is on the tail end of his assignment and he doesn’t have to put as much focus into his work.

“Trust me, you ain’t the only one, sweetheart. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve been able to fuckin’ see ya and there’s things I’ve been missin’ too: that pretty face a yours, wakin’ up next to ya layin’ in bed, the sound of your hummin’ comin’ from the kitchen as ya make breakfast…”

He trails off a moment with his thoughts as he lowers his voice until it’s barely above a whisper, leaning his lips into the microphone built into his headphones just in case any stray ears are listening in. Simon thought he’d be able to get through a bit of small talk before starting in on this stuff, but it seems like your need for each other cannot be contained once you’re in proximity.

You get him riled up without even trying. He clears his throat and continues the thought.

“...and if I’m real honest, I’ve been missin’ other things too. The more intimate things like you naked underneath me, the sensation of your legs wrapped ‘round my waist, makin’ those sweet little sounds whenever I hit the right spot. It’s been fuckin’ eatin’ me alive out here, not been able to take care of it. I swear every goddamn time I’m away from ya it’s like I can’t help thinkin’ about ya nonstop. Can ya blame me? I mean, look at ya, luv. You’re a goddamn dream. Christ, I’ve been gettin’ hard just thinkin’ ‘bout what I’m gonna do to all those gorgeous curves the fuckin’ minute I get back.”

He can hear your already staggered breathing hitch and it makes him smile; it’s cute the way you are always so down bad for him. Just bringing up a few stray thoughts and a mention of his cock and you are already burning. But maybe you were burning a little before that too.

“That’s what you’re missin’ too, yeah? Havin’ me there with ya, doin’ what we do best? Ya don’t have to tell me, I know my sweet girl gets fuckin’ needy when I’m not ‘round to keep her satisfied. From the way you keep messaging me, trust me I know. Bet it’s been fuckin’ lonely there all by yourself; betcha been achin’ for somethin’ to help ya get some relief. I know ya don’t like usin’ your toy all the time…Is that why ya wanted me to call?”

You stutter out some objections, hoping not to sound too desperate as you don’t want him to think that’s the only reason to answer his call. Simon isn’t bothered by it one bit; he can tell you need something to take the edge off. He can always tell… and he wants to help.

“Ya don’t have to hide it from me, luv. It’s clear as fuckin’ day; I’m already makin’ ya flustered, I can hear it as ya talk. Don’t think I forgot whatcha told me a while back. How ya like the sound ‘a my voice. Ya said it makes ya wet. Is that what ya need now, baby? Need me to talk ya through it and help ya get off?”

You squirm again under the covers, clearly trying not to make it obvious that you are rubbing your thighs together. Simon has barely started the dirty talk and already your body is responding to him in that most primal way. Who is he to deny his sweet thing of what she needs?

“Yeah, that’s what ya want, isn’t it? To listen to my voice while ya touch yourself? Cause I really fuckin’ wanna give my pretty girl some extra attention right now. Make sure she doesn’t go without me even when I’m away. And if this is the only way I can do it, I wanna make sure ya come. I need to hear it again ‘fore I forget what it sounds like when ya orgasm ‘cause of me.”

Goddammit, Simon’s getting worked up just from talking about helping you get off, so much so that his cock begins to twitch in his pants and he has to adjust himself in the bed with a deep, muted grunt, pulling at the fabric at his crotch to give him more room to grow. He watches you get more excited at the prospect of having his attention, even if it’s only for as long as it takes for you to climax. Any bit of his attention makes you feel like the most gorgeous thing in the entire fucking world and that’s why he gives it all to you.

“But I need ya to do somethin’ for me in return. Somethin’ to help me help you. Can ya do that for me, baby?”

He watches as you nod your head up and down into the camera with enthusiasm, not even waiting to hear what it is he is going to ask you to do. Clearly, you would do anything for him, all he has to do is name it. God, he loves you needy for him, let’s him know that he is treating you right.

“I need ya ta sit up, push your computer to the edge of the bed, and angle the camera down for me. Lower. A little more, that’s it. Good girl. Now, take off the blanket and let me see whatcha got hidin’ under there.”

The computer is pushed further away so that your body is in full view and the camera is now pointed directly into your lap as you remove the blanket hiding your lower half, complying without a single word. Once free, your tank top catches his eyes as it hugs tightly to your breasts while your tiny, cotton sleep shorts leave almost all of your thighs exposed; Simon is eating up every last pixel that he can see.

Those thick, juicy lower limbs of yours are his absolute favorite and if he could be there now he would already be between them. This is definitely a good idea.

“Wanna be able to see that you’re enjoyin’ listenin’ to me. Ya want me to see it, yeah? Wanna show me how much ya miss me, don’t ya? Course ya do, sweetheart. You’re too fuckin’ good to me. Always makin’ sure I get my fuckin’ fill of such ya; my pretty girl.”

Simon puts a little extra breathiness into his voice, accentuating his gravelly tone to make you blush like crazy as that wetness gathers at your core. He’s gonna pull out all the stops tonight to make sure that you will be content… at least for the next few days.

“I think we need a bit more, yeah. Get a real good view. Take off your pants and spread your legs nice and wide for me. Let me see that beautiful little pussy that I’ve been dreamin’ of. Just like that. Little wider; there ya fuckin’ go. O-oh fuck, looks like you’re already drippin’ for me.”

The light catches a faint glistening from the slit between your satiny petals and he can hardly find the air to fill his lungs as his mouth begins to salivate. Acting off of pure instinct, your hand travels down between your legs and almost reaches your cunt before he comes to his senses and scolds the action by snapping his fingers into the mic.

“Ah, ah, I know you’re achin’ bad, but no touchin’, not till I fuckin’ say. Does my voice turn ya on that much ya can’t even wait for me to really get it goin’? I’ve barely even started and you’re already unable to stop yourself. I wanna make this good for the both of us, but I can’t do that if ya get ahead of yourself. Just breathe a minute.”

An idea pops into his head, fueled by the intense throbbing in the crotch of his pants. He hadn’t thought that he would be getting involved like this, it is risky given his current situation, but his body is saying otherwise. There’s no stopping him when you are giving him such a feast for his eyes to devour.

“Maybe ya just need an incentive to take it slow. Somethin’ to keep your ass in line. I got somethin’ for that, baby.”

The metallic sound of a zipper being undone and a sharp hiss of air between his teeth is heard over the call before the camera is turned on. Simon points the phone at his face for a moment and pulls up his mask slightly to give you a quick smirk before bringing it down to rest on his thighs as he points it straight at his lap. Through the dimness that surrounds him, the focus adjusts and through the opening created at the top of his pants that big fucking dick comes into full view on screen.

A rush of adrenaline floods his limbs as he hears you inhale sharply, a stray ‘fuck’ escaping your lips at the sight of it throbbing into the palm of his hand. It is swollen at the tip and jumps with his pulse.

“This is all for ya, darlin’; no one else gets to have this fat fuckin’ cock all to themselves, ‘cept you. Have ya missed it? Missed seein’ how fuckin’ big I am? Yeah ya have; I bet your droolin’ over yourself, aren’t ya? Mmm… my horny little princess, always so hungry for me. Are your lips itchin’ to wrap themselves ‘round it now that ya see it after all this time? You remember how well ya gag on it, yeah? My hand on the back of your head, pushin’ ya down as far as ya can go, your spit dribblin’ from the corners of your mouth, can hardly catch a breath as ya choke...”

Simon has to stop and reel himself back in or risk getting too worked up and he can’t take care of you if he’s out of his goddamn mind. That imagery has you quaking and he can see your body vibrating as you are itching to touch yourself and that’s when he knows exactly what he is going to do to get you off. Taking a deep breath he clears his throat, putting the control over himself to the forefront of his thoughts and starts again.

“Well, if ya wanna keep seein’ it, I need ya to behave for me and follow my direction. You and I are gonna play pretend for a bit.”

Now more settled he gives his length a stiff stroke up and down slowly, making sure that the camera is glued to his movements. You can’t look away; those big doe-eyes are locked on as if you are wishing you could reach through the screen and touch him with any part of you that you could get to it first. It takes you a couple of minutes to notice anything other than the object of your desire, but as you look up Simon’s dark gaze meets yours through the shadow.

“Ya like this, yeah? Me strokin’ my cock like this for you to watch? Ya know what’s gonna be even better? How fuckin’ good it’ll feel havin’ it buried deep inside ya again, fillin’ ya to the brim. Ya wanna be full of me again, don’tcha sweetheart? Come on, show me, use your fingers and let me see how much ya miss this fat fuckin’ cock stretchin’ ya out.”

You insert a finger through the lips of your pussy, thrust it inside your entrance, and begin rhythmically stroking against that sensitive bundle as you keep your eyes fixated on the screen to watch Simon stroking it right along with you. He gives you a minute to get started before he speaks again.

“That’s not enough if ya wanna pretend it’s me, pretty girl, I think ya need another two fingers in there at least.”

Simon is trying to stay calm, but it is taking every ounce of his willpower to watch you touch yourself and not immediately blow his load while grunting loudly at the feeling of coming so fast; still, he tries to keep his voice down so no one near can hear him. Slowly you insert another digit and then another so that your first three fingers are now resting just inside your hole, but again that isn’t enough for him. He wants to make this as real as he can.

“Ya need to go deeper, all the way to the knuckles. Ya know I like to fuckin’ have it down to the base until ya can’t take another inch. Need this to be accurate, like I’m really there with ya.”

You comply, pushing up inside you until the entirety of your fingers are gone and you cannot get anymore in. Simon moans deep in his chest, pleased at how well you are following his orders. It takes some force, but the stroking of his hand sticks to a steady rhythm as he sets the speed for what’s to come.

“Good girl, that’s it. Now slow it down, keep it steady, and listen to my voice, ya got it? We are gonna do this together. I want ya ta picture me crawling into bed and movin’ right up against ya. My hand turns your head towards me so I can start kissin’ those fuckin’ sweet lips of yours. So warm, so soft, the longer I kiss ya the more I need until I run my fingers through your hair so that I’m holdin’ the back of your head in my grip as I shove my tongue nearly down your throat. I’ve been starvin’ baby and soon I have our mouths pressed so tight together ya can hardly breathe. Just eyes closed, tongues tasting each other, gettin’ absorbed in the way they feel until our mouth’s are fuckin’ raw and burnin’. Only then do I start goin’ down your jawline and neck, so much deliciously smooth skin for me to taste.”

The sound of tiny, breathy moans hits his ears and his heart thumps heavily in his chest. He hadn’t lied when he spoke about how he misses your music and the sound of it now has him in a goddamn stranglehold. Mix that with the live feed of you thrusting your fingers in and out of your tight hole as the natural lubrication starts to drip down your fingers with each stroke and he has to bite the inside of his cheek hard to keep himself sane.

“Gotta make sure you’re whinin’ and beggin’ me to give ya more before I move on. I’ll pull your top over your head so I can get at those gorgeous tits of yours. Fuck… gonna smother my face between them as I give them the care they need, kissin’ and bitin’ all that soft flesh to leave marks where I’ve been. Each one is gonna be in my mouth so I can use my tongue to flick ‘round your nipple as ya run your fingers through my hair to egg me on until ya can feel it in your clit.”

As he speaks he watches you fall back against the pillows and lift up your t-shirt to expose half of your chest. From this angle he catches a glimpse of the underside of one of your breasts, the edge of your nipple just within view before you cup it in your hand to massage the tissue against your palm and pinch the nipples as if you are trying to make his words come to life.

“Can ya feel it baby? Can ya feel my hot fuckin’ mouth all over your tits? Christ, I swear I can taste them now; I want ‘em in my goddamn mouth so fuckin’ bad. Got my mouth waterin’.”

He has to swallow hard to stop himself from choking on his own saliva as his lips tingle, recalling the sensation of them against your skin as his hips begin to snap his cock up into his palm harder.

“Ya know I’m gonna be so worked up that your not even gonna know what’s happening as I shove ya onto your back so that I can move down the bed and rip ya outta your fuckin’ pants. I need ya completely fuckin’ naked so that I can spread your thighs wide open. Gotta make sure I can get between them; wanna have plenty of space to play.”

Again you mimic his words, opening your already spread legs even wider the same way you’d have to do if he were to get in between them. If Simon’s heart thumps any faster it’s going to burst out of his chest; watching you act out this made up scenario is more erotic than he could have dreamed it would be.

“Imagine the feelin’ of my lips kissin’ up the length of those gorgeous thighs. With how much ya been missin’ me they’d already be so fuckin’ sensative that you’d be squirmin’ as soon as I make contact with my mouth. Maybe I’ll even give them a nibble, just for good measure. Ya always do look best wearin’ all my marks everywhere.”

His grip around his cock tightens as he listens close and catches your hummed reply before it sounds like your mouth falls open so that you moan a bit louder as your movements on screen begin to quicken and your hand switches positions to your other breast. Your fingers are starting to furiously pound into you, the pace picking up with each passing second as your desperation spills over at the sound of his voice describing all that fucking pleasure. But Simon is there to reel it all back in.

“Ah, ah, look up at me princess. Slow it back down there. That’s it, nice and steady for me. Don’t want this to be over too soon. Keep your eyes on my hand and follow my pace. We’re gonna get there together, alright?”

Picking your head up so that you can see the screen, your eyes focus on his hand and your strokes settle back to match his, though it does not go unnoticed how you do that little whimper of protest. It’s not easy being the bad guy in this situation, but Simon knows the more denial now, the harder you’ll come and the longer you’ll stay satisfied. And if there is one thing he will never stop doing is making sure his baby is satisfied.

“You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, sweet thing. I promise we are almost there, just a bit more. Now, where was I? Oh yes, teasin’ those gorgeous thighs of yours. See I can’t move on until I’m happy with my work and I want those little red and purple blotches to be coverin’ all that pretty skin. Ya like when I claim ya like that? Makin’ it obvious that you’re mine? Anyone who sees that is gonna know that you’re bein’ taken care of.”

An open-mouthed moan and a nod of your head is all he’s getting now as you are too out of your mind to form words anymore at this point. Your half-lidded eyes gaze back at him as if you are trying to will him to come through the screen and pound you into the mattress; goddamn he’s going to fuck you so good when he gets back.

“Since I’ve decorated those beauties, I think they’ll need to be displayed and I can’t think of a fuckin’ better place than perched right on my shoulders. Besides, ya know what’s comin’ dontcha? That goddamn sweet little pussy has been callin’ to me since I got down there and now it’s finally time to give it the attention it deserves. Such a pretty thing, those soft petals of yours. You know I’m gonna have to give them a few kisses for good measure.”

Fuck, he wants to taste you so bad now the tastebuds along his tongue prickle as tries to capture that specific sweet, tangy taste in his memory. Why in the hell do you have to be so goddamn perfect?

“You will be pleadin’ with me, callin’ my name over and over until ya feel it. My warm tongue pushin’ itself against your lips and spreading them apart to move in between them. God, that first fuckin’ taste of ya is always my favorite, sweetheart…like goddamn honey. Gonna drag my tongue up the entire length of your cunt to make sure I get as much of ya in my mouth that I can. Then I reach your clit and that’s where I stay. I’ll be suckin’ and lickin’ to my hearts content while you buck against my face all you want; I like it when ya get rough with me. Nothin’ is gonna get me off of ya though, I got ya fuckin’ secured to my face with a tight grip that isn’t gonna let up no matter how ya move.”

The sound of you whimpering fills his ears and it makes his head feel like he’s floating. Your hips are bucking against your hand desperately and he knows you want to go a bit faster, but you are sticking to his set speed like a champ. He takes a couple of minutes to just watch you, wanting to etch this moment permanently in his brain, before he continues.

“I’m waitin’ for it, that moment ya go silent. That’s when I know it’s about to happen and I brace myself to feel your thighs crush against my head and block in my ears like a vice as ya come on my tongue. Do ya know how much I fuckin’ love when ya do that? Bein’ locked to your pussy like that, I would fuckin’ suffocate on ya and not even think twice. Keep me strapped to ya as long as ya want, baby, I’m gonna sit through it all until ya have nothin’ more to give to me. My tongue don’t tire easily, as ya already know.”

Your head falls back, but Simon can still hear you clearly repeating mindlessly your enjoyment of everything that he is talking about with moaned ‘yes’s and whined pleas to Jesus.

“Can ya picture it? Me sittin’ back up, your cum all across my face? I will probably look like a wild beast with my mouth shimmerin’ and sticky, but I don’t fuckin’ care. Ya make me feral, so deranged that nothin’ else matters ‘cept you. Everything will go faster then: me gettin’ to my knees, pullin’ your hips onto my thighs as your legs still sit on my shoulders, my tip pressin’ against those damp petals covered in my spit and your cum. Eatin’ ya out gets me hard enough there’s no need to wait. Imagine the way it’ll feel when I’m pushing my tip through the threshold and stretching ya out completely. You’ll be cryin’ out as I help ya fit me all in…right down, all the way, fillin’ that cunt.”

He’s panting now, the vision created in his mind so vivid that as he stimulates himself it feels too real. Of course his hand would never compare to your pussy, but with everything happening it is as if his brain is being tricked into believing that he is fucking you.

“Ya know I ain’t gonna waste anytime, not when I get ya wrapped ‘round me. It’ll be so wet and tight that I just begin poundin’ and poundin’ so hard that it has our bed squeakin’ underneath us from the fuckin’ force, slammin’ into the wall, makin’ your tits bouncing up and down as I go all in, your eyes waterin’ as get so fuckin’ deep it’s almost painful. Goddammit, baby, I want to see your eyes roll back in your head as it overwhelms ya.”

His abs are clenching, simulating the act in real time as his limbs begin to feel heavy and the coil inside his stomach tightens. Heat is now rushing through his veins like hot water, making him warm from the inside out and it only fuels his imagination more.

“Or maybe I flip ya over and help ya up onto your knees, pullin’ outta only long enough to get ya situated holding onto the wall. Visualize me tuggin’ your hair in my fist to make your back arch so I can thrust right back in. Ya better make sure ya got a steady brace cause I’m gonna reach ‘cross your body and down the front of ya to that swollen clit, strokin’ it with my fingers as I thrust into ya from behind and I need ya to push back onto me. I wanna be able to whisper in your ear all them filthy things like how no one else can make my cock feel this good and how this pussy belongs to only me.”

It’s too much, too much buildup that he is not going to be able to hold off for very much longer. This is going to have to end one way or another and soon it is not going to be a choice anymore. His hand picks up the pace.

“Go a little faster. That’s it, faster, baby, faster. I’m about to fuckin’ blow and your gonna come with me. Come on, come on… f-fuck… you’re so beautiful like this. No one looks better a fuckin’ mess than you do. And I wanna make ya so goddamn filthy baby. Where ya gonna want me to come, hmm? On your face, on your tits, your stomach… or maybe I won’t pull out at all. Stuff ya full until it’s drippin’ outta ya and I can watch once I’m done. You just imagine it where ya want it most, sweetheart.”

His hand is furiously stroking around his cock with an iron tight grip, running from tip to base, coating his hand in precum so that the next stroke is even smoother than the last. Faint whines escape his closed lips as he tries to stifle the sound by clamping his mouth shut. The entirety of his chest feels like it’s on fire and setting the phone down a second he rips the damned t-shirt he still has on up off his torso and over his head, only releasing his cock for the split second it takes to throw it off that arm and onto the floor. Quickly he grabs the phone and sets it back up.

“You’re close, yeah? Ya got this, just keep lookin’ at me with those pretty eyes and stay with it. All ya gotta do now is just let go. Good girl, that’s it, let go for me. Come for me, baby, let me hear it.”

Simon watches your thighs shaking and toes curling into the mattress as you call out his name in a pitiful cry and your entire body vibrates, nearly shooting off the bed as you come and come hard. The welling of pressure deep inside him reaches its peak and with the sound of your cry it causes his body to clench, sending him rocketing over the edge violently as a muted grunt echoes in his chest. He angles is cock upward towards his stomach as the warm ejaculate pumps out of his tip, coating the muscles and hair along his abdomen as he milks himself through it until he has no more cum left to release.

Vision hazy, legs vibrating, cock still twitching as his grip loosens, Simon takes a few minutes to simply breathe. The phone gets ignored for a moment as it lays resting on his thigh. Once he is able to calm enough to function, he picks back up the device and stares into the screen. You are laying flat on the mattress now, chest heaving up and down. Your legs are still splayed open and he can see the glorious product that he helped create catching the light as it coats the outside of your lips.

“Fuck, ya did so well for me, sweetheart. God, that was fuckin’ fantastic.”

You roll to your side and look into the camera with a crooked, sleepy smile and he mimics it with one of his own. That should be all, everything that he had wanted to happen had in the best way, but there’s one thing he has left to do, one thing he wants to see before he lets you go. One last thing to replay in his mind to give him something to daydream about along with the rest.

“Bring the camera up closer, wanna see your beautiful face all flushed. There’s my sweet girl. Looks like I’ve made a mess of things for ya, but I don’t think ya mind much. I do want ya to do one more thing for me, though. I need ya ta clean up since I ain’t there to do it myself. Nothin’ too strenuous, just take your fingers and stick ‘em in your mouth; get all those juices off with your tongue. There ya go, lick ‘em clean, don’t ya waste any of that fuckin’ goodness.”

You do exactly as he says, using your tongue to pull your fingers between your lips where you suck and lick with gusto until they come back out completely clean and you show them to him with a smile. In that moment you are a goddess, the most gorgeous being he has ever laid his eyes upon, and Simon can only stare on at you in awe that he is so fucking lucky to have such a creature all to himself.

“Fuck, I’m one lucky bastard,” he says, barely audible.

There’s a bit of rustling that he can hear now coming from somewhere close and he knows his time is up. At least he got to finish what he started giving you everything that he can, though he does desperately wish he could stay on the call with you a bit longer, but he knows if he doesn’t end it now he might never do it and he doesn’t want to risk anyone seeing you like this. Gotta pull the bandaid off quick or else.

“Hate to end this here, but it seems like our time is up. Wish I could stay, but ya know how it is. If I don’t go now I ain’t ever gonna do it. We’ll talk again soon, promise. You have a good day, pretty girl, alright? Dream of me later tonight, yeah? Cause I’m fixin’ to be dreamin’ of you.”

You blow him a kiss and with that the call ends; he is left back alone in the silence of the night in his bunk- alone. He grins to himself as he puts his phone away and cleans himself up, thinking about you laying back in bed exhausted, but content, all because of him and his efforts. And he wonders if maybe, just maybe, he’ll get the chance to get you off like this again before his deployment ends.

God he fucking hopes so.

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lilsciencequeen · 6 months ago

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Thinking about in Hadestown how it is highly like Orpheus walked for days/weeks to get to Eurydice.

With the idea of the train taking people to Hadestown and Hermes saying "Through the underground, under cover of night Layin' low, stayin' out of sight" implies that he could only do the walk at night. If this was a walk that took a few hours at most then why would it be mentioned. Orpheus at the beginning of act 2 looks exhausted. His clothes are ripped but he is absolutely overjoyed he has made it. That he's there. Walking into Hell is not an easy task and hes done it.

Which makes Doubt Comes In even more painful. If it takes a number of days or weeks for this walk and they have to keep walking then hes spending hours upon hours not being able to check that Eurydice is behind him and having The Fates cast doubt that she's not there. That he's not worthy. Anyone would turn around after being subjected to that.

#hadestown #hadestown uk #hadestown broadway #hadestown west end #hadestown musical #anaïs mitchell #orpheus and eurydice #orphydice #orpheus #eurydice #hermes #the fates #hades #persphone #dónal finn #reeve carney #jordan fisher

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comatosebunny09 · 29 days ago

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light as a feather | sylus

summary: your lashes dance. you screw your eyes shut, offering him your wrists. “gonna tie me up?” he hums, entertaining the idea in his mind. “tempting. but not tonight, sweetheart.” you flinch when something cold, crisp, and silken grazes your cheek. sylus chuckles, the sound akin to distant thunder rolling over the horizon. “i won’t hurt you. i promise.” genre(s): romance, erotica warning(s): female reader, gendered terms, silliness, blindfolds, sensation play, praise, pet names, profanity, sylus may or may not be in his demon form throughout now playing: layin’ low - hyolyn

“Do you trust me?” he asks one night on a whim.

You set your book aside, straightening on the settee in the center of his study. “You know I do.”

Why is that even a question?

He smirks, a softness to his eyes as he takes your hand, acquainting his lips with each of your knuckles. He wordlessly draws you from the loveseat. Bewildered, you follow, lead through the stilled, winding corridors of his manor towards a room you’re all too familiar with.

“Nap time?” you jest with a humored look, bouncing on his bed.

“Hmm. Not quite.” There’s a tease in the low rumble of his voice. A promise of something more. You feel like a teenager, a hot rush of adrenaline spuming through your extremities.

He turns his back to you, rifling through his dresser. You maneuver this way and that, trying to get a look over his burly shoulder at what he’s up to.

In an a-ha moment, he finds what he seeks. Returns to you, aura bleeding bad intentions whilst he briskly shoves something into his pocket. Your breath hitches when he zeros in, and he pitches himself forward, caging you between his arms to murmur against the outskirts of your ear.

“Close your eyes.” You’re dizzy from the sound of it. From the heat he exudes, the heady scent he carries. Your mind colors with possibilities. Blinking drunkenly, you obey.

Your lashes dance. You screw your eyes shut, baring both wrists to him. Does he plan to subdue you? “Gonna tie me up?”

He hums, entertaining the idea in his mind. “Mmm. Tempting, but not tonight, sweetheart.”

You flinch when something cold, crisp, and silken grazes your cheek. Sylus chuckles, the noise akin to distant thunder rolling over the horizon. “Won’t hurt you. I promise.”

You nod, and he slips something over your eyes. Ties it over your ears, behind your head. The knot is secure yet loose enough to tear off if need be.

“Lie back,” he instructs, smoothing the flat sides of his fingers along the jutting bones of your wrist. You could get used to being ordered around like this.

Your lips twitching with a smile, you acquiesce, falling onto the cloud-like, lush comforter adorning his bed. You prickle with anticipation, your breath held at the crest of your ribs.

Give a little start when cold, idle finger pads slip beneath the hem of your blouse, touching the molten skin of your belly. You’re caught between a gasp and a laugh. Clench the comforter to ground you, your body reacting to the exploratory glide of his palm.

He chuckles again, dark like red velvet and smooth like whiskey. Voice abrasive as he bunches your blouse up beneath the swell of your tits. “Relax,” he soothes, and you shudder whilst his digits venture southward torturously slow.

He curls a thick hand around your thigh. Squeezes until flesh craters between his fingers, and he hums with a quieted satisfaction.

He’s by your ear again, dragging distended lips along the shell, nosing along the space behind. Fingers tip-toe up the inner trajectory of your thigh, smoothing along the plump, honeysuckle skin just shy of where your panties lie.

“What’s your safe word?” he husks.

Your breath catches, hips rucking up off the bed to chase the feeling of his palm on you. “Mary Poppins.”

Sylus snorts, nipping your earlobe in retaliation. “Too many syllables. You sure you’ll be able to get that out in time?”

A bout of vertigo crashes into you. You pulse. Laugh breathlessly, excited. Burn hot. “I’ll be fine. Promise.”

He taps your thigh once, twice. Mulls over your answer, and suddenly, his warmth no longer cradles you. You whine like a brat when he leaves your side. Pant, every nerve in your body exploding like solar flares beneath your skin.

He doesn’t leave you cold and wanton for long.

Something fluffy touches your skin, replacing the gentle stir of his fingers. You giggle, the sensation akin to tickle bugs crawling over your stomach.

Did he conjure one of his feathers just to tease you?

He chuckles alongside you, dragging it up the ripple of your ribcage. “How does it feel?” he queries, mouthing along the angle of your jaw. Nips your neck, breathes hot against your carotid.

“G-good. Real good.”

“Mmmm. Good girl. Stay still. Yes, just like that.”

He makes several expeditions over your body, paying special attention to the space shy of the line of your bra. When you’re thoroughly teased and gasping for air—sighing his name so pretty, arching your back for more—he drags the feather further south.

Encourages your legs to widen by smoothing it over your inner thighs, and you shudder when it grazes the seat of your panties.

He releases an appraising sound. Throat clicks, and he exhales slowly. Shakily. He does it again, dragging the feather along your slit, and your hips leave the mattress in pursuit of that sparkling feeling again.

“Like that?” he purrs low in his throat, thoroughly entranced.

You nod, hot in the face, reaching blindly across the bed for something of his to hold onto. He smiles into your ear, setting a steady pace with the feather against your slick pussy. And it’s embarrassing how quickly you fall apart. How your panties darken with gossamer beads of slick, and he hasn’t even done his worst.

Toss your head side to side, desperately clinging to him. Whispering his name like a broken mantra, undulating your hips like the lazy drag of a tide against a fucking feather.

“Sylus,” you breathe, not sure what you’re begging for. “Sylus, please.”

“Want me to stop?” he croons, not once relinquishing his pace. Agonizingly slow, the tip of the quill agitating your swollen clit.

You shake your head, your lip swollen and tucked between your teeth. He takes your cue, tugging your blouse the rest of the way towards your neck. Your bra follows, and you exhale slow when sweltering lips close around a pebbled nipple.

He throbs through the thick layers of his clothes, twitching against your hip, begging to be set free. His focus is on you, however, and he laves at your nipple, sending pleasant tingles throughout your body, crashing into your center.

“Fuck, Sy. I’m gonna-I’m gonna—”

“Cum?” he breathes against your tit, the sticky, wet sound of his lips suckling on your nipple making your pussy clench. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Please. Need you to.”

You pant, pushed near that slurry edge. Home in on that feeling brewing between your legs. On the sensation of the feather bumping your clit, the pitch of his voice, his ragged breaths intermingling with yours.

He’s in your ear again. Hot, muttering a litany of praise. “Pretty girl. So, so good for me. Let it go. Give it to me, sweetheart.”

And you do just that.

Your back arches, eyes screwed shut behind the blindfold. A cry lodged in your throat, and the world slides into white. Tremors of satisfaction tear through you. Ripple from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. Your fingers tingle. Ears ring.

You laugh all breathless as you come down, shuddering. Overstimulated whilst Sylus continues to ease the feather up and down the milky mess of your cunt.

“Delicious,” he hums, angling your face towards him with tender fingers beneath your chin. Draws you into a languid kiss, milking vulgar sounds from betwixt your lips.

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wolvietxt · 13 days ago

Text

𝓭ay 𝓯ifteen.

logan howlett and lazy mornings.

waking up in logan's bed always feels like slipping into a slow-moving dream. the soft morning sunlight streams through the window, casting warm, golden stripes across the tangled sheets, and the world beyond is quiet, distant. you’re nestled against him, legs intertwined, your head resting against the solid plane of his chest. his breathing is steady and deep, and you feel the rumble of it beneath your cheek as he wakes up.

logan shifts slightly, his arm tightening around your waist, drawing you closer as if he’s not quite ready to let the moment slip away. a low, sleepy groan rumbles in his throat. "mornin'," he mumbles, his voice rough with sleep. you can feel the slight scratch of his stubble as he presses a lazy kiss to your forehead.

"morning," you whisper back, barely moving, just savoring the warmth of his body and the way his hand rests heavy on your hip. outside, the world is coming alive, but in here, with the slow tick of the clock and the faint birdsong beyond the window, it feels like time’s standing still.

neither of you make an effort to move, letting the quiet stretch on. his fingers idly trace patterns on your back, trailing from your shoulder down to the curve of your spine, and you shiver lightly under his touch. "you’re cold?" he asks softly, voice still gruff from sleep.

"no, just…" you look up at him, your gaze meeting his half-lidded eyes, still dark with sleep but softer now, tender. "just comfortable." your lips curve into a small smile as his brows twitch in a faint smirk.

"good," he murmurs, tipping his head to press a kiss to your temple, then another just beneath your ear, his lips lingering as if savoring the feel of your skin against his. "s’better stay that way." his voice drops to a husky murmur, and a hint of playfulness curls at the edge of it.

you let out a small, contented sigh, fingers brushing through his hair, still slightly tousled from sleep. "i’m not going anywhere," you murmur, tilting your chin up to brush a kiss against his jaw. "i could stay like this all day."

logan’s chest rumbles with a low chuckle as he draws back just enough to look at you, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. "sounds like a plan, darlin’," he replies, then leans down, catching your lips in a slow, unhurried kiss. it’s warm and soft, and the world outside fades away a little more, leaving just the two of you wrapped up in each other.

you lose track of time like this, exchanging lazy kisses and quiet whispers, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hip. he pulls back for a moment, his breath brushing against your cheek as his forehead rests lightly against yours. "never thought i’d be one for just… layin’ around," he admits, his tone soft, almost contemplative. "but with you…"

your smile widens, your heart swelling at the unspoken words that hang between you. "you’re a real romantic, logan," you tease lightly, though there’s warmth in your tone.

he huffs a soft laugh, the corner of his mouth twitching up. "yeah, well… don’t go tellin’ everybody," he murmurs, his hand slipping beneath your shirt to rest against the small of your back, the touch grounding, comforting.

you nuzzle closer, pressing your nose into the crook of his neck. the faint scent of his skin fills your senses - woodsy, a hint of smoke, and something uniquely him. "your secret’s safe with me," you whisper, letting your lips brush against the pulse point just beneath his jaw.

logan’s hand tightens on your waist, his breath hitching slightly as he lets out a quiet groan, the sound reverberating through your chest where it’s pressed against his. "better be," he mutters, then pulls you closer, if that’s even possible, his lips finding yours in another kiss - this one deeper, more insistent, as if he’s trying to draw out every last second of this lazy morning.

you melt into it, your hand resting over his heart, feeling the steady beat beneath your palm. the sunlight continues to stream in through the window, warming your skin, casting a soft glow over the two of you. the rest of the world might keep turning, time slipping by unnoticed, but here, wrapped up in each other’s arms, it feels like nothing else matters.

logan’s kisses trail from your mouth down to your collarbone, his lips tracing a lazy path as his fingers toy with the hem of your shirt. "we could stay like this a while longer," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your skin. "ain’t got anywhere to be."

you hum in agreement, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him closer. "fine by me," you reply, a smile tugging at your lips as you tilt your head to capture his mouth again, drawing out another kiss, slow and sweet.

and so, you stay tangled together, the sunlight inching across the room as the hours slip by, neither of you willing to move, content to let the rest of the world turn without you.

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bones4thecats · 1 year ago

Note

Which ror characters do you think would have this dynamic:

*reader being drunk as hell* *character trying to get her up to help her make it to bed* reader:"get the hell away from me i have a partner."

Character:...i AM your partner

Reader,smiling dumbly: "hi luv"

(if it's too bothersome feel free to skip)

A/N: OMG, this was so much fun to write for!! I love this dynamic in couples, my friend actually has this dynamic and I tease her for it all the time! This is the Gods edition, I’ll make a Humans one later. Anyways, enjoy~~

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

💀 He may seem like he wants a regal and mature S/O, but let's be honest, he needs a chaotic one to balance him out

💀 So when you got drunk, holy hell, it was funnier than shit

💀 Hades came home and walked through the bedroom doors and saw as you laid on your back, allowing your top half to dangle off the edge and your bottom to hang on the bed top

💀 He chuckled and asked what you were doing in which you replied with;

“ Layin’ down. “

💀 You were slurring as you spoke, and with that, your body language, and the empty wine bottle that laid on the bedside table top led him to realize, you were drunk

💀 He bent his knees and began to lift you up before coaxing you into bed, and when he was about to lay beside you, you pushed him back up, and said;

“ Get the Helheim away from me, I have a husband. “

💀 Hades started to cry from holding back his laughter, answering with;

“ My Queen, I am your husband. “ “ Hi love. “

💀 He was not letting you gain access to his wine anytime soon

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

💪 Like Hades, he seems like he wants a fairly mature S/O, but he does enjoy the amounts of randomness and seeming chaos you bring everywhere you turn

💪 He had been training with Ares’ army, since the God was busy with other work, and all he wanted was to lay down and take a well-deserved sleep with you by his side

💪 Heracles expected you to be sitting on the couch waiting for him, but seeing you sprawled out, snoring with an empty beer bottle on the ground, he chuckled, picked you up and laid you on the bed while he took a quick shower

💪 He knew you hated him laying in bed all sweaty and sticky

💪 When he finished his shower and got ready to lay down with you, you laid a hand on his chest while gently, yet firmly, pushing him away

“ Don’t come near me, I have a husband, and he would kick your butt for touching me. “

💪 He wanted to laugh so badly, and unlike Hades, he did, though he kept it at a low volume

“ Sweetheart, I am your husband. “ “ Hi love. “

💪 Seeing you smile made him chuckle, and lay down next to you as you relaxed

💪 He’s have to tell the others not to give you any alcohol anytime soon

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🌩️ He adores the chaos you bring around most of the time, but he doesn’t like it if it gets to be super extreme, so if Loki is involved, nope

🌩️ Thor and you seem to balance each other out well, he’s calm and quiet while you’re loud and oblivious

🌩️ He has seen your drunk before, but that time you just passed out after hugging him and making him carry you home from the meeting

🌩️ But he had never seen you this drunk

🌩️ Thor came home from his training and noticed a broken bottle on the ground with slight blood, and it made him ready himself, preparing to see something horrid

🌩️ He strode deeper inside your living room and saw you laying on the ground with a blanket lazily draped over your midsection, halfway off and halfway on

🌩️ Slight blood was dripping onto the ground and blanket from your hand, you must have dropped the bottle and tried cleaning it up

🌩️ Thor picked you up and laid you on the bed and motioned for the maids to clean the mess up while he took you to bed

🌩 Once he laid you down and tried to clean up your hard injury, you woke up and pushed him away from you with a pout

“ Get away from me… I have a husband, thank you. “ “ My bolt, I am your husband… ” “ Hi love… ”

🌩️ Sigh, this is why he doesn’t let Loki and you hang out

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

📨 He didn’t keep that much alcohol inside the house, knowing you’d do something stupid with it

📨 The only stuff he kept was things like wines given to him on his birthdays and whatnot, but he made sure to keep it hidden very well from you

📨 When Hermes came home early that day, he had decided to break open a bottle of red wine with you, but when he went to go grab some, it was gone, and he froze

📨 Hearing stumbling come through the house made him grab a pair of scissors just in case and walk towards it, carefully not making much noise

📨 Hermes looked inside your room and saw you with a bottle in your hands, it was nearly fully empty, and by the way three more rested besides you, you were drunk off your ass

📨 He just chuckled at both your actions and his own

“ My dear, are you alright? “

📨 He grabbed the bottle and kneeled down to kiss your forehead before you stood up and caused him to headbutt you on accident, thankfully, you didn’t seem to feel it

“ I have a husband, and he can run circles around you, now, leave! “ “ Dear, I am your husband, but I thank you for the compliment. “ “ Hi love. “

📨 It took a while, but when he finally got you to sleep it was fun, especially when you woke up and remembered what you did, he was gonna use that against you for a while

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on-a-lucky-tide · 2 months ago

Text

Nik and Price get in the ring after the sergeants tire of them heckling from the ropes. Bravo Six learns something new about himself.

CW: blatant sexual tension; mention of choking out in an MMA context; desire for forced submission (and being very into it but also bloody terrified by that desire).

"MacTavish, stop droppin' your hands! KorTac'd walk an entire detachment through that guard," Price called from Soap's left just as Gaz locked his arm, twisted and threw him over his shoulder, "fuck, Christ."

Price rubbed his eyes and glanced over at Nik through the eventual gaps in his fingers. Nik had been clapping and whooping enthusiastically every time Gaz had landed a blow, drowning out the thump-thump of the sergeants' preferred playlist, and now he was beaming from ear to ear. "Kharoshaya rabota, well done!" Nik called, thick forearms slanting across the rope as Gaz bound Soap's chest and arm up into an arm bar.

Nik was looking frustratingly good that evening, the drop tank he'd thrown on to lift weights with Ghost hanging low under his arms, giving Price far too good a view of the heavy set physique beneath. He'd been worried about getting caught staring at the dumbbell rack while Nik had counted through the reps of a single arm row, every line and tendon in his shoulder and tricep pressing through sweat-sheened skin, so he had spent a bit longer on squats, hoping the burn in his thighs overcame the burn somewhere else.

Price figured it was the easy confidence with which Nik carried himself that had always drawn his eye. Open chested, spread arms, hips first. Not afraid to be looked at and proud of what he had to display. And what's worse? Price was pretty fucking sure Nik knew he was looking. Played up to it, in fact. Funny for him, miserable for Price. Bastard.

Gaz rolled away as Soap tapped out, panting from the exertion of keeping Soap subdued, hands on his knees, but grinning right back at Nik. "Ochin mela, spasiba bolshoya.*

"Ahh, and your Russian is coming on well, my brother. Soon you will be wooing all the ladies, eh? Heh heh."

"Learned from the best, mate," Gaz said as he bounded over to take Nik's hand and bump their shoulders together.

Price eyeballed Soap as he clambered to his feet with a groan. "What the fuck was that? I've seen better footwork on crows fresh out of selection."

"Aye, well," Soap flexed backwards, his hands at the base of his spine, "nae my fault Gaz's b'in trainin' with daddy KGB over there."

Price grabbed Soap by the jaw. "Should send you on a yomp at 0400 tomorrow for that kinda talk. Stop makin' excuses." Soap grimaced and Price saw the sting of his words pass through his eyes before they drifted across to Gaz. Price squinted. "You broken?"

"Naw, sir."

"Then get the fuck back over there and wipe the floor with him. Stop taking the bait he's layin' out for you." Price shoved Soap's jaw away from him and slumped back against the ropes.

The sergeant bashed his fists together in front of his chest and turned back into the ring with a look of determination, bumping gloves with Gaz before pulling back to start the next round. He didn't allow himself to be led by the nose this time, circling with nifty footwork, swaying away from a mean right hook that narrowly missed his jaw.

"That's it, don't let him dictate the fight," Price said.

"Eh, sir, you playin' favourites?" Gaz called, his smile never fading as he teased Soap into another right hook, dancing deftly out of range.

"Neither of you qualify. Simon's my favourite."

Said Lieutenant was currently sitting by the speaker with a battered Terry Pratchett novel, his tupperware of steak and garlic potatoes balanced on his knee so that he could eat and read simultaneously. He might have smirked, but the overloaded fork of protein and carbs he shovelled into his mouth hid it from view.

"Och, didn't even hesitate. Cold," Soap said.

"Fuckin' baltic, mate - oop! Nearly, Tav." Gaz dodged out of Soaps attempted clinch, light on his feet, and bounced back round.

The playlist flicked over to yet another generic anthem dredged from the seedy club scene and Price glanced over his shoulder. "Turn that shit down, Simon."

The lieutenant obliged without looking up, if only by a few notches, before his hand returned to his fork.

"Easy, Gaz, you must watch his right leg," Nik said.

"Cheat," Price grunted.

"Poshel tuy, what's good for Soap is good for Gaz." Nik damn near pouted, arms folding across his broad chest as he quirked an eyebrow in challenge.

"Come over here and tell me to fuck myself in my own gym," Price growled back, bristling. Nik only smiled at him toothily, a glint in his eye and a tilt of the head that said 'I'd love to' in a way that made heat lick down Price's spine. It drove him crazy, how Nik could have that effect without even touching him. It was a distraction though; Price looked back to the fight only to spot Soap's demise a second later. "Soap, d--"

An overstep. A throw. An attempted grapple on the floor, followed by a deep sprawl that allowed Gaz to force Soap into the mat. Soap tried to flip onto his back, but within moments Gaz was sitting on his chest and raining punches down on the backs of his gloves as he shielded his head.

Price let Soap take a reasonable beating as punishment for his poor focus before barking from the ropes. "Callin' it, Garrick, get off his sorry arse."

Gaz rolled onto his feet and Soap grunted as he sat up. "Ah need tae get a few sessions in with Nik..."

"Nah, ya need t' get your head in the fight," Price replied. "Maybe turn your drum and bass shite down so you can focus."

"It's not drum and bass, s--"

"Can it, Garrick."

"Sir."

Soap jutted his lower lip, grabbing the lower rope for support as he stood. "Ah think ye should come show me how it's done," Soap murmured, pulling out his gum shield to flex his jaw. "Get in here n' kick th' shit outta him, rather n' gripin' from the sidelines."

"Oh ho ho, no way, he's not sandbaggin' me," Gaz lifted his gloves in immediate surrender. "He can pick on someone his own size. You're up, Nik."

Nik's face lit up with the most feral fucking grin Price had ever seen on a man. "I am ready if you are, captain."

Price could feel the fire under his skin; a burning desire to knock that silly grin off Nik's face and put him back in his place. Or, that's what he told himself. Because his eyes weren't exactly on Nik's face; they were tracing the broad shelf of his shoulders and the thick curves of his biceps, imagining them subdued in a grapple, and the sounds Nik would make as he tried to fight his way out. That same heat curled in his gut and he figured the only way he was going to extinguish it was with fists. "Fine, fuck it, sergeants, out."

"Ooh, shit," Gaz cackled, ducking under the ropes to stand on the edge of the mat, followed closely by Soap.

Price ditched his shirt and snagged his grappling gloves before stepping into the ring. As he wrapped his wrists, Price's gaze wandered to the slope of Nik's back, the curves of his arse and thighs testing the generous cut of his shorts, and had to breathe deeply through his nose to get his bloody pulse rate under control. It was adrenalin before a fight against a worthy opponent, he told himself.

The damn front wasn't any easier to look at once that drop tank had been removed, especially when Nik bounced from foot to foot and his chest moved with the momentum. He threw his arms in a few test punches at the air and rolled his head from side to side, relaxed and limber. Price chewed on the inside of his cheek and finished securing his gloves. The music was doing his nut in. "Turn that shit off," Price growled in Soap's general direction.

Soap removed his mouth guard and rolled his jaw before calling across to Simon. "Ay, L.T., put on somethin' more their vibe."

This time, Simon deigned to look up from his novel to pick a song. As Benny Andersson's fingers slid down the keys of his clavinet and Abba's 1976 Hit single 'Dancing Queen' droned from the raspy gym speaker, Price decided Simon was no longer his favourite.

Nik seemed content with the choice, however; extending his arm with the other held in front of him like he was dancing with an invisible partner, crooning along to "you can dance, you can ji-i-ive" like he was at a seventies disco. Soap and Gaz guffawed and whooped loudly on the sidelines.

"Bloody muppets," Price grumbled. "Oi, today, Nikolai. London rules." He lifted his fists and moved forward.

Nik knocked his knuckles to Price's and then stepped out of range in time to dodge a cheeky swipe. "Nu vot, Price. Not Queensbury? I thought you were a gentleman." The grin on Nik's face said he'd thought no such thing.

"What gave you that idea?"

"Salt of the earth country boy, no?"

"Hmm."

Nik was bigger, slower, which meant Price could stay out of his way and wear him down with well targeted hits. He knew there was an injury in Nik's back to take advantage of too. If it came to it, Price wasn't above fighting dirty to win. Hit and run was the way to go with big fighters like Nik.

Nimble and quick, Price landed a few punches to Nik's chest and a leg kick or two within the first few minutes, but Nik absorbed them, batting away another aimed for his head and retaliating with a hard right book that Price barely dodged in time.

"Watch it, cap!"

"He's landin' easy ones, Nik. C'mon!"

Price watched Nik carefully over his gloves, darting in only when he saw an opening and then dodging back again before those huge arms could engage a clinch.

Nik's first real hit came from nowhere; Price left a gap as he switched stances and the resulting body shot left him momentarily winded. Enough to lose ground. Price looked for a gap to evade but Nik pursued relentlessly, lashing out only to make Price dodge into the space he wanted him in, controlling him like a marionette on fucking strings.

Out of the corner of his eye, Price could see Simon step up to the rope next to the two sergeants, his meal finished and his novel forgotten, the fight too interesting to ignore. That didn't stop him dabbling in his second favourite sport. "Hey Johnny, Want to know how you make any salad into a caesar salad?"

"L.T. no--"

"Stab it twenty-three times."

Gaz snorted into his fist and Soap pinched the bridge of his nose and then winced when Price took another hard body blow that staggered him against the ropes.

Nik kept coming, wearing Price down with a slow, deliberate pursuit around the ring that made him dance and skip to land shots where he could. It was like hitting padded concrete, the red marks on Nik's skin nothing but surface damage. His body was fucking magnificent, bloody superhuman, and each time Price laid a hit he felt excitement surge through him like lightning. They bound up a few times, but Price always managed to escape the attempted grapple, his heart in his mouth, or Nik broke the clinch.

It couldn't last.

Price felt his energy waning, his footwork slowing, the sweat stinging the corner of his eyes. Nik hadn't pushed his advantage yet and he didn't need to. Not until the opportune moment, which he seized when Price was cornered again against the ropes after another prowl around the ring. Strong arms bound his torso in a clinch and Nik performed a flawless uchi mata that earned a surprised hum from Simon. They grappled on the ground, Price sprawling his legs wide to prevent Nik from levering him over.

"C'mon, sir! Break out!" Soap leaned over the ropes, gripping them intently.

Nik slipped around Price's back and wrapped his legs around his hips, drawing his neck into a rear-naked choke that felt like being crushed in a steel vice. Price thrashed, trying to drive his elbow back but only scoring glancing blows. He refused to tap out in his own fucking gym on his own fucking mat--

"Captain," Nik grunted, struggling to keep Price constrained, "please... do not think... our friendship will prevent me from... putting you to sleep. Submit."

Submit.

Something tight and hot twisted in Price's gut as Nik growled the command so close to his ear, voice rumbling from deep inside the barrelled chest pressed to Price's back. Price's toes curled against the mat and he became intimately aware of every inch of Nik's skin against his, slick with sweat and a mirrored heat, every muscle as hard and as unyielding as steel. He had been completely overpowered, taunted and teased into a trap, and now Nik had absolute control. There was... there was nothing Price could do.

Price's vision edged in grey, his nails biting into Nik's forearm, and his palm finally pounded the mat.

Nik released him immediately, rolling to his knees and moving to take Price's face carefully in his hands. "Breathe, John."

Price didn't know why he was gasping like that, his heart hammering a neat little samba against the cage of his chest. He could smell the sweat and leather of Nik's gloves, but all he wanted to do was tear them off and feel Nik's fingers in his hair. No, no too fucking much, too fu--

"'M... Fine. Gerroff." He pushed Nik's hands away and the big Russian at least had the good grace to stand and give him some space. Price closed his eyes and took a moment to steady himself, breathing in through his nose and out through lips that definitely weren't shaking. It was just a bloody fight. He'd had his arse handed to him a fair amount in his time. This was no different.

But as he opened his eyes again, Price knew something had clicked in his head that had been teetering on the brink all this time. He looked up at Nik, gaze dragging up his muscular thighs and the dark hair of his belly and chest, and felt the tightness of arousal in his gut. The realisation that he liked kneeling here at Nik's feet, subdued, conquered, settled into his chest like a shard of ice. He wanted Nik's hands on him; his wrists, his neck, his throat, holding him down. He wanted Nik to push his knees and thighs apart to claim every inch of him as a prize. He wanted the control torn from him, to hear the word submit snarled in his ear as he had no choice. It was terrifying.

Nik offered a hand down and Price took it mechanically, letting Nik drag him up until their bodies were pressed together again. Dark brown eyes studied him closely, a gloved hand resting at his hip. "Molodech, captain. You fought well."

"And you fought better," Price croaked, stiffening his back so that his body didn't shake in Nik's hands.

"This time." Nik's voice lowered significantly in volume, his hand squeezing meaningfully at Price's hip. Fuck, fuck, he'd seen. He'd bloody seen those wide, desperate eyes after feeling Price's body against his, and worked it out, hadn't he? Price swallowed hard.

"Fuckin' hell, mate. I'm glad you're on our side," Gaz called, and Soap agreed with a quiet murmur. Price was thankful they were none the wiser.

Well, the sergeants weren't. Simon was studying him closely as he ducked under the ropes. "Somethin' on your mind, Simon?"

"No, sir." He glanced at Nik and then back at Price. "He fought well. But not that well."

"Thanks for the feedback."

Simon hummed. "Perhaps you should do some one on one with Daddy KGB. Iron out the uh... kinks."

"Fuck you, lieutenant," Price growled quietly. "And don't." He cut the observant bastard off before he could start that innuendo, and headed towards the locker rooms.

"Ahh, don't worry," Gaz said, slapping Nik on the shoulder. "He'll lick his wounds and be back out here tomorrow."

Nik rubbed his chin thoughtfully, watching Price's retreating back. "Perhaps..."

Simon cleared his throat. "You should go help," he paused, "with the wounds."

"Da," Nik responded, leaving the ring to follow in Price's wake. He had opened an untouched vault of riches and he was keen to explore them, and so was Price, if those big blue eyes were anything to go by.

(Kinda want them to fuck in the shower, with Nik's hand around Price's throat, fingers so big they nestle in the hinge of his jaw, pinning him but Price relaxed and in heaven; yeah, a friend got that image in my head and I'm feral for it.)

#nikprice #captain john price #cod nikolai #call of duty #cod #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick

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samoankpoper21 · 5 months ago

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Dasher - Gojo Satoru

A/N I've stumbled upon a couple posts online where dashers have gotten upset because they weren't tipped enough and I wasn't trying to be part of that narrative 😅; I ordered food this week and I felt bad because I didn't have enough to tip the dasher via card so I texted them letting them know hey sorry funds are a bit tight but I can only tip you this much, thankfully they were understanding! To all the dashers y'all are real ones! Enjoy~!!

Grabbing your meal Satoru glanced down at his phone when he saw Tip: $0. You've gotta be shitting me. Shortly after his short inner monologue he received a text from you:

Hi! I know you're probably wondering why I'm not tipping you but I usually tip with cash. I'll have your tip ready as soon as you get here. Thanks!"

Scrolling through Satoru noticed that you had selected the "hand to me" option making his way to your apartment.

Ringing your door bell he stepped back mindlessly scrolling when you peeled the door open smiling causing him to gasp aloud. You were beautiful. He took in your full, chubby figure as you were wearing an oversized black Jujutsu Kaisen tshirt with denim shorts that were squeezing the tops of your thighs deliciously, Satoru internally groaning when he noticed you were wearing white thigh high socks. "Wow," you say breaking him out of his reverie. Satoru?"

"Oh. I'm sorry. I thought I died and went to heaven." Playfully rolling your eyes you say, "Gimme a minute. Mind holding my door so I can get the tip?"

"Your number and our first date will do just fine." Blushing your rush off Satoru letting out a low whistle as he watched the way the shirt grazed your ass, riding up as you ran towards your purse. "Sorry," you shout. "I read somewhere online that sometimes you guys don't get the full tip so I figured it's the least I can do since you're going out of your way to get my food."

"'s no problem at all sweetcake."

"You're just layin' it on real thick ain't ya? Found it!" Rushing back towards him you hand him the $20. "There." Satoru swears that with your smile he could feel the heat traveling from the top of his head all the way down to his tippy toes. Hating having to end your first meeting abruptly he reluctantly hands over the food as he says, "Do me a favor sweets: next time a male dasher comes to deliver your food don't have them holding your door; there's all types of weirdos roaming the streets."

Giggling you ask, "So you wouldn't be considered a weirdo?"

Playfully clutching at his broken heart he quips, "I'm offended you would even think that about me." A comfortable silence settled when you reluctantly say, "Well it was nice talking to you. I'm glad you got your tip. Thank you Satoru."

"I was bein' serious you know."

"Hm?"

"About your number and a date. I'll take that as a tip any day over $20." Your face growing hotter, you bite your lip, nodding your head as you spout out 7 digits.

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acknowledge-reigns · 21 days ago

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Hrs & Hrs | Roman Reigns x Black!fem OC (SMUT) 18+!!!

Kinktober Day #9: Collaring

"I could sit and talk to you for hours,

Sit and look at you for hours,

Makin' love to you for hours,

Layin' on your chest for hours,

Tellin' you jokes for hours,

Holdin' you close for hours,

And hours and hours..."

Description: Roman and Lilah take an important step in their relationship.

Warnings: Collaring, possessiveness (in a healthy way), vaginal sex, wholesome kink stuff.

Face Claim: Jaylen Barron

MDNI!! 18+ BELOW THE CUT

My masterlist can be found here and my kinktober schedule can be found here.

As always my fics are about Roman Reigns, NOT Joe Anoa'i

Tag list - @mysticreigns2 @queeny23 @jeyusos-girl @notfancyrebelpaper @xbriexx @skyesthebomb @mzv11 @paigereeder @glitterywitchstarlight @v4mp-reads @hunnidmilly

Author's note:

Within kink collaring is a very significant, beautiful and borderline sacred act. As a collared sub myself, I would feel naked without it. As if a piece of myself was missing. There are many different types of collars out there, and each collar is as unique as each individual D/s dynamic. To my wife and I a collar represents all that we are to each other and beyond that it represents commitment, desire, protection, passion, devotion, trust, surrender and love; just to name a few. In incorporating this into my kinktober stories I hope only to represent the kink community to the best of my ability and properly portray a moment as beautiful as collaring. And now that I'm done running my mouth, on with the story.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

Lilah kneeled in front of Roman, her heart racing with anticipation. She had been waiting for this moment for weeks, ever since he had told her about his desire to collar her. The symbolism of it was not lost on her, and she felt a thrill run through her at the thought of wearing his collar.

It was a gorgeous 4ct diamond heart choker fashioned in 14K yellow gold that could be used as a day collar, never to be taken off and it costed entirely too much but Roman had of course insisted.

Lilah gasped as Roman brought the choker out of the box. It was even more beautiful than she had imagined, the diamonds glittering in the light. "It's perfect," she breathed, her eyes fixed on the choker.

Roman smiled as he saw the look of awe on Lilah's face. "Only the best for the tribal chief's girl," he said as he moved behind her to fasten the choker around her neck. She could feel the cool metal against her skin, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

As Roman fastened the choker, Lilah felt a sense of pride and possession wash over her. She was his now, completely and irrevocably. The collar was a symbol of their commitment to each other, and it made her feel safe and loved. Tears pooled in her eyes at the feeling of absolute devotion. What she didn't realize is Roman was just as emotional.

Roman leaned down and whispered in her ear, "You look absolutely stunning, baby. Your collar suits you perfectly."

Lilah smiled at Roman's words, feeling a warm rush of desire flood through her body. She loved it when he praised her, and the way he looked at her with such possessive intensity made her feel like the most desirable woman in the world.

"Thank you, my tribal chief," she whispered back, looking up at him with adoration in her eyes. "I'm yours, always."

Roman smiled and helped her to her feet lovingly. He cupped Lilah's face in his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheeks gently. "I know you are, my love," he said, his voice low and husky. "And I'm going to make sure everyone knows it too. You're my treasure, my queen, and I'd do anything for you."

He pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue claiming her mouth as he claimed her mind, body and soul with the collar.

Lilah melted into the kiss, her body molding against Roman's as she gave herself over to him completely. She felt like she was on fire, every nerve ending in her body alive with sensation.

Roman's hands roamed over her body, exploring every curve and contour as he continued to kiss her. He broke the kiss to nibble on her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "You taste so sweet, babygirl.." he murmured. "I can't get enough of you."

Roman quickly shed his clothes, his movements quick and efficient. He was a man on a mission, and he wasn't going to waste any time getting what he wanted.

He then turned his attention to Lilah, carefully removing her clothing and revealing her naked body to him. He ran his hands over her skin, savoring the feel of her softness under his touch. "You're so beautiful," he murmured.

Roman didn't need any more encouragement. He positioned himself between Lilah's legs, his hardness pressing against her entrance. He looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation, but found only desire and submission.

With a low growl, he thrust into her, burying himself to the hilt in her warmth.

Lilah cried out as Roman entered her, the sensation of him filling her completely overwhelming. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside her.

Roman began to move, his thrusts powerful and possessive. He claimed her with every stroke, driving himself into her over and over again. "You're mine," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Mine to take, mine to use, mine to love."

Lilah could only moan in response, lost in the sensations of Roman's body moving against hers. The feeling of the collar around her neck seemed to intensify everything, reminding her of who she belonged to.

She arched her back, meeting his thrusts with equal passion. "Yes, fuck yes, " she gasped. "I'm yours forever, my tribal chief."

Roman's pace quickened, his movements becoming more urgent as he neared his release. He could feel his control slipping, but he didn't care. He wanted to claim Lilah completely, to make her his in every way possible.

"Come for me, baby," he growled, his voice low and rough. "Come with me."

Lilah felt her own orgasm building, the waves of pleasure growing stronger with every thrust. She clung to Roman, her nails digging into his back as she neared the edge. "I'm close," she gasped. "So close..."

Roman could feel her body tightening around him, and he knew she was close to the edge. He increased the pace of his thrusts, driving into her with all his strength.

"Let go, baby," he urged her. "Let go and come for me. I want to feel you come around me."

Lilah couldn't hold back any longer. With a cry of ecstasy, she let go and surrendered to the waves of pleasure crashing over her. Her body convulsed around Roman's, her inner muscles clenching and unclenching as she rode out her orgasm.

Roman followed her over the edge, his own release washing over him in a tidal wave of pleasure. He thrust deep inside her one last time, holding himself there as he spilled his seed inside her.

He collapsed on top of her, panting and sweaty, but with a look of pure satisfaction on his face. "You are perfect," he whispered, nuzzling her neck. "Just perfect."

#roman reigns x oc #roman reigns smut #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns #the tribal chief #wwe roman reigns #head of the table #the only one #the bloodline #roman reigns x black oc #Spotify

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nvmadic · 9 months ago

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put a finger down if you want a broad, cuddly man with mutton chops to let you lay on him. your head cradled in the nook of his chest, his fingers daintily grazing along your scalp as you drift off into sleep. wearing his hoodie as your own whilst he whispers you sweet nothings. “you’re so pretty layin’ there all peacefully like that.” his voice low, gravelly but affectionate.

#i’m going to go and touch grass #goodnight #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #schlatt x you #schlatt hcs #jschlatt hcs #jschlatt headcanons #schlatt headcanons #schlatt fluff #jschlatt fluff #schlatt imagine #jschlatt imagine

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kithtaehyung · 1 year ago

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this man really got me back on the mic for this lol lyrics under the cut | also now on ig if you’re on there!

Uh, I’m on my jungkook jeon One look got all the honeys saying “oh it’s on” Be kinda poetic, it’s kinda pathetic How the beat be getting cooked on, bunny call a medic, uh Sorry to bug you but I’m so smooth with it This the typa beat to seep right through with it Meet and cruise with it, freak and snooze with it Jack wanting more on the street might groove with it Hah, I’m just playing though Silver spoon, nah, we just staying gold Hole in one, yah, but we layin' low* 이해가 안 되?** lemme say it slow One two step let’s see it in 3-D Four five shots I’m calling in 6G Seven different ways, seven different days, JK on the mic, he ateeee

*"layin' low" - hyolyn **이해가 안 되? = you don't understand?

#i was so upset sdkfsdkfjd #3d #jungkook #audio #*ryenfm #bts #*latest

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ask-maxie-boy · 2 years ago

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Goonion's Ghoul (Part 4)

Bruce does a little digging. This one's a little more serious, but dont worry, the shenanigains resume next chapter <3

Part 1 & 2 Part 3

The pool hall was fairly quiet tonight. It was a dim place who's customers were the only thing shadier than its corners. The smell of smoke lingered in the whole building, but the usual cloud that held over the room seemed to be gone.

The "No Smoking" sign on the door was new, and it seems like people were listening. Bruce fiddled with the stick match between his fingers - he wondered if it was going to be a problem.

"8 Ball, side pocket" Clack!

"Tch. Good game, whatever."

As the men and small crowd around them get their bet earnings, Bruce approached with a predatory grin. "Hey fellas, mind if I get in on a game?"

Most of the men seemed to be sizing him up, but one in particular (the one who won the last match) inhaled sharply. "Matches fuckin' Malone, I haven't seen you 'round here in a while! You sonofabitch, where ya been?"

'Matches Malone' pulls his titular match out from his teeth, and puts on an annoyed face. "Bah, deal went south, had to lay low for a while." Someone handed him a pool stick, prompting Bruce to nod and grab some pool chalk.

"I getcha. We can go a round, Matches. Loser buys a round at the bar for everyone."

"Jeez, I said I was just layin' low and thems are the stakes?" Matches' grin comes back, a gleam rolling along his aviator shades. "Guess I could use a free drink, so why not?"

The other guy rolls his eyes. "Well, aren't you confident. Promise that'll changes once the game starts."

The game gets set up quickly, and they let Malone break. He lines up his stick, but isn't too concerned about exactly how to hit this shot.

"Say," Bruce asks, "I heard there's a new way of gettin' some help around here. Any'a you know about it?" The cue ball slams into the triangle of other balls.

"Oh, you're askin' about the Goonion? You don't gotta beat around da bush. Even if you weren't in good company, there ain't no need to be hush about it." The 7 ball rolls into a corner pocket, a solid color sunk.

Its an easy shot to the 5, side pocket. "Wouldn't expect that from a big band 'a criminals," Bruce says, casually lining up the hit, "but I guess that's Gotham for ya. So, how do I get in contact?" *Clack!*

"There's a big place on 29th street, down by Proctor Ave." The 5 cleanly rolls into the next pocket. "They put up a big sign just yesterday, you cant miss it."

The next shot is a bit more tricky, trying to get the 3 without hitting the 10 in. "No shit? A big ol' sign that says 'Hey, a buncha lackeys here!' right out in the open?"

The other guy snorts. "I mean, the cops don't give a damn, and the criminals are already in on it. That just leaves the bats, but between you and me? I hear the robins are in on it."

Not only does Bruce miss the 3, he knocks the 10 in, closely followed by the cue itself. A scratch. "Well, now I know you're just fuckin' with me."

His opponent grabs the cue ball with a chuckle, and puts it just by the 12 for a clean corner pocket hit. "Like how you were with that last shot? Yeah, yeah, I'm messin' with you... kinda. There's a runnin' joke that the robins should be considered one of us."

Second stripe down, Bruce's eye twitches, hidden by his large sunglasses. "I don't see whats so funny about it, considering how many times we've had our ass handed to us on a black-n-blue platter by 'em."

Its a more difficult shot to hit the 9 in the side pocket, but the opponent aims anyway. "Yeah, Danny's got this big ol' thing about how Vigilantism's a crime and Batman's a crime lord. Ya kinda have to hear him say it, but damn if it isn't funny." He makes the shot, but the cue ball slides in the pocket with the 9, as Bruce bites back a grumble.

Its his chance to get back in the game, and clean it up. Bruce puts the ball on the table, and lines up a shot that should also get him in position for the next few. "Danny, eh? Whats his deal anyway? Everyone seems all buddy buddy with the guy, but I can't find out a thing about him. He some kinda "

The normal sound of a pool stick hitting the cue is clean, crisp, and short. A satisfying ricochet right to where it was aimed, sealing a calculated move into victory.

That is not the noise that echoes through the hall.

Instead, the stick bounces off of the cue strangely, shaking awkwardly as a much harsher CLACK! attacks everyone's ears, as the ball rolls slowly in the wrong direction, and hits nothing.

His opponent, and everyone with and without money on the game, look right at him. Some are giving dirty looks, some seem angry, others just discontent. A few look ready for a fight to break out, as the sudden tension ensnares him. He gets the feeling its not the bum shot they're upset about. "Uh... any chance I can try that hit again?" He asks sheepishly, analyzing exits, preparing for the brawl that might happen, and a cover story for how Matches got out of being attacked by this many people.

Bruce winces as his opponent places their hand on his shoulder, but doesn't strike back just yet. His opponent still seems tense, but not rearing back an attack. "Matches, you'se a good guy, so I'm gonna let you off easy on this one. But for 'da future, dont go askin' around about Danny. He doesn't like people poking into his business.”

The crowd seems to calm down a bit, but there's still a few bad looks being sent towards Bruce. He puts some hint of worry in his voice, dusting off his suit to sell the idea that that shook him up. “I.. I see. Caposh.”

His opponent goes back to the table, picking the cue off the table after Matches' bad hit. “...He's just a kid, Matches. Smart, kind,” he lines up his next shot on the 11, “I'd call him naive if he didn't prove he knew what he was doing.” A clean shot, into the side pocket.

“If you're goin' to the Goonion, you'll meet him and see.” Another easy shot, 13 into the corner. “He does good work. The Hood may have started the union, but Danny stoked the flames, kept us together when we wanted to fall apart.” A hard hit, the cue ball stopping dead as it strikes its target, knocked straight into the pocket. “He fought for us, went up against some of the most dangerous people in Gotham and told them to kneel.” Someone in the crowd murmurs, “Stronger together,” which has him roll his eyes. “Yeah yeah, we all did it, sure. But someone needed to face 'em down, and not only did he bite the bullet,” 14 ball, corner pocket, “he spat it right back out at 'em.”

“He got us dental!” Someone cheers, and most of the crew cheers with him, clinking beer bottles together.

“Point is, he's a good guy who does a good job, and the least we can do is stick our noses out of his business.” 15 ball, opposite corner. “We don't need him getting hurt because we couldn't do that.”

Something flickers in Bruce's eyes at that last comment, noting the slightly somber tone. “...he didn't ask you to stay away, did he?”

“He didn't need to. I told ya, you'll get it when you meet him.” He points out his last shot, “8-ball, corner,” and hangs over the table to aim his cue. “People like him don't usually stick around Gotham, and not by their own choice. If someone finds out you're the one who made him leave, whether you meant it or not...”

The 8 ball rolls cleanly into the pocket, a promise fulfilled. “You'll be lucky if you're found with a bullet to the head.”

An open secret. One that puts him in harms way if the details get out. Details people are purposefully avoiding, out of gratitude. Makes things difficult for him.

“...Well, a deal's a deal. A round on me, everyone!”

@akikkobara @thegatorsgoose @addie-lover-of-stories @apointlessbox @screamingtofillthevoid @semiprofessionaldumbass @sailor-goddess @malice-of-the-sunrise @savaton @spikedlynx @emergentpanda-blog @starlightcat04 @demented-trashcan @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff @soren1830 @vixen-uchiha @rowanaway-fromthisbs @space-dreams-world @wolfeyedwitch @the-legal-shipper @gmkelz11 @dannyphantomphan @idkmrpianoman @somuchyikes @blankliferain @thatonegirl10 @thewondersoflebanon @cass-brightwood @coruscateselene @hallowsden @avelnfear @ultimatebluff @kryzs2000 @blep-23 @jaguarthecat @all-mights-asscheeks @meira-3919 @ricekristytreaty @illya-roma @mentalcarebear @wackyattack @fisticuffsatapplebees @love-has-no-labels @dat1angell @igotafewbadideas @thordottir45 @idfk-man10 @choppedphantomsweets @dragonfirefeather @smol-book-nerd @randomkiddoscrewingaround @alinmenttreasure @queen-of-the-grapefruits @cyber-geist @bianca-hooks123 @gaelic-holiday

#the goonion #dc x dp #dp x dc #goonions ghoul #haha bruce get fucked #also please dont put danny in danger ;c #told you the goonion takes confidentiality very seriously

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