#the scream i let out was inhuman
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investingestincest · 9 months ago
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tried out waxing strips and will simply never try them again
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joejhang · 17 days ago
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if neil shows up in tgr y'all already know. it's over.
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baeshijima · 2 months ago
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what if i.
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threw up.
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the-abyss-of-fandoms · 2 years ago
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Me going to charge my phone a little after using character.ai all afternoon comes back 3 mins later to a maintenance update:
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colorsofmyseason · 2 years ago
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REISSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
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filmbyjy · 2 years ago
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good lord, seeing this clip makes me want to write CEO jay or like president of a company jay😵‍💫
like you don’t understand how much I love the CEO and secretary trope or like any CEO trope😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
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kizzer55555 · 25 days ago
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Ok but this has angst potential if Tim starts out treating him like a dangerous individual, looking for potential missing persons, mysterious murders (besides the usual) with bite marks, and making counter measures. (Hmm. These blood blossoms are said to repel the dead. Would that work on the undead?). And finding more facts that support his theory like skin cold to the touch, fangs and claws, avoidance of garlic toast that one time, and a few other things. Like evidence he has a ‘special drink’ that he doesn’t let anyone else near or even catch a glimpse of (it’s ectoplasm) and seems to be trading with that woman for it. There might even be a whole secret network of vampires.
Everything is going to plan until Damian discovers his research.
Good news, with the current amount of proof Tim has accumulated at this point he has successfully convinced Damian that this guy is a vampire!
The problem? Immediately afterwards he got a lecture from his youngest brother on being specist.
Damian: Has he made any moves to harm another person?
Tim: no.
Damian: Did you find any evidence he has been killing?
Tim: …no
Damian: Did you even consider he might be finding alternative and humane ways to get the sustenance his species requires to survive?!
Tim: …………..no.
Damian: imbecile
So now Tim feels like the worst person in the world for planning to kill what is essentially the vegetarian version of a vampire.
Damian has decided that it is his duty to correct his moronic ‘brother's’ mistake and be the ambassador to this new creature on behalf of the human species.
Exhausted college student Danny gets mistaken for a vampire one night when he tiredly hissed at one of the bat family and showed fangs as he forgot he was eating some cherry candy that stained his teeth red. He also has pointed ears. Red Robin is on the case to track down the vampire in Gotham. He also found him kinda cute
Tim tapped his fingers together in front of him. He leaned back in his chair and looked at his cork board, which were covered in photos of Daniel J. Nightingale, red string connecting each piece of information together to form a puzzle that he needed to solve.
It had been months, but somehow, Danny was evading Tim's every attempt to find out where he lived and whether or not he was truly a bloodsucking creature.
With how he was consistently disappearing under Tim's surveillance every time, he was beginning to think that Danny was truly a vampire.
The door opened, and Jason waltzed in and leaned over the back of his chair, his elbow narrowly digging into Tim's head. Tim yelped as his chair suddenly leaned back at a drastically new angle before he glared at him.
"... found a new victim, stalker?" Jason teased, looking at the pictures of Danny.
"... I'm not a stalker. And he's not a 'victim', he's a possibly dangerous individual that I need to find and neutralize."
Jason raised an eyebrow, looking at a picture where Danny was passed out on a park bench, a half eaten sandwich on his stomach that was being stolen away by a pigeon.
".... dangerous?" He said, his tone slightly unbelieving.
"I have reasons to believe that he's a vampire," Tim said vaguely.
Jason hummed. "Oh. So that's why you have this picture of him where his shirt's riding up over his stomach?"
Tim turned pink. "That's— that's for research! That picture is very important to me!"
"Oh, I'm sure it's important," Jason smirked. "So while you're figuring out a way to... 'neutralize' this vampire, can you try to get me this girl's phone number?" He said, picking up and waving a picture where Danny was talking to a tall, red haired woman. "She's hot."
"No!! And get out of my room!"
#Damian makes first contact with the ‘vampires’. Just casually approaching them and letting them know he knows about their semi dead status#and officially apologized for his brother’s assassination attempts on him. Danny assumes Damian and his brother know he’s a ghost.#(Tim is screaming from behind a computer monitor.) he didn’t know Damain’s plan until it was too late.#Jason may or may not tag along to meet the pretty orange vampire. I say let’s make Jazz a Halfa in this.#Either from repeated exposure to ectoplasm or she died after Vlad used the new nano suit on her. A slow death.#This means Valerie also became a halfa. And let’s add Tucker and Sam too from when they got possessed by a staff/undergrowth.#So with Ellie (and possibly Dan) that now makes a proper vampire colony. Who all hate Vlad.#Anyways. So Danny thinks the Waynes know their secret and are cool with them. He was clearly wary at first when the child approached#(unrelated news reports have shown Timothy Drake screaming and running out of Wayne Tower in a very specific direction. Eyes glued to phone#But Damian is very thorough in his explanation that Gotham is a safe place for them and their kind and not to let ‘Bigots’ ruin it.#Tim: DAMIAN I SWEAR!#Red Hood or Jason might have been following from a distance as ‘protection’.#Also. I once saw a post where Jason’s pit rage could be sucked out so what if the Wayne’s (or at least Damian Jason Tim Bruce and Cass)#Who have been exposed the most to Lazarus water actually changed their DNA. So now their bodies naturally produce a certain amount of ecto.#They aren’t dead and they aren’t halfas but it’s still not exactly healthy. Not as noticeable for Cass and Damian who grew up with it#their bodies adjusted to it so it made their reflexes sharper and combat instincts keener.#But for Jason Bruce and Tim it explains why they are tired or feel like crap all the time.#So when they get into a relationship with one of the vampires Jason and Tim could offer them to drink their blood#and the Halfas are like ‘you sure?’ But the Waynes confirm they trust them. (Jason is ABSOLUTELY the one who offers first.)#Might even start with them just drinking from the wrist before moving up to the neck. They might reveal they CAN drink from each other#but it’s not exactly healthy (since they NEED their ecto but the bats could assume vampire ‘blood’ has a negative affect or something.)#For extra angst imagine that one of the vampires gets hurt in a fight.#Like the Halfas immediately recognize their partners in costume via scent and don’t really hide that they figured it out (or the method how#And the bats are in trouble so someone (likely Jazz) go to help out and the villain might throw her hard against a wall.#Not nearly as deadly as if she was human but Red Hood gets FURIOUS. Danny might help out Red Robin in a similar way.#Or just be there as backup for his sister. Maybe the other vampires join too. Make it a full on vampire attack/swarm on this villain.#Afterwards the Waynes with partners are frantically checking them over because even if they know they are inhuman#They were still slammed into multiple buildings and pavement with no armor and just civilian clothes. Even SUPERMAN wears padding.
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gemharvest · 6 months ago
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everyone wish me a very "get locked in on this fic" because I'm this close to making Cicada Days BF angst art even tho I still have yet to finish the comic.
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sloaneispunk · 1 month ago
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“friend or foe”
soft!frontman (hwang in-ho) x you
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when frontman joined the games, he thought it was solely to see gihun fail, but his intentions shifted when a certain player number 455 caught his attention…
⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆
part one
after the first round of voting, half of the room was left speechless, how could majority have voted to stay? the games were inhumane and above the top, was the money worth it anymore?
you headed up back to your bed where you could see everything clearer. the ‘o’s cheering loudly while the ‘x’s stood still as the air hung heavily upon them. then, you saw the player that had caused the majority to overule the ‘x’s… player 001.
he was a tall middle aged man with astonishing features. his hair somehow still styled neatly on his head, leaving only a few strands out of place. his lips curled into a small smirk as he walked past the crowd and seemingly back towards the bunk beds.
you must have been staring for too long because 001 suddenly halted, causing you to lean further down to see what had caused him to stop in his tracks. suddenly, his head snapped up, looking right up at you with that same expression on his face.
‘shit’ you cursed as you threw yourself back onto the bed, back hitting the cold mattress within seconds.
suddenly, a face appeared at the side of your bed, causing you to let out a scream as your hands flew to your mouth, shufflig towards the other end of the bed.
“hi there.”
there he stood, right there at the other end of your bed. player 001’s brown eyes looked so innocently into your own, he now had a bigger, more geniune smile on his face as he waited for a reply.
“you scared me.” you breathed out, still not moving from the edge.
“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to. i noticed you were alone earlier, i hope you don’t mind if i join you since we’re both by ourselves in here.” 001 said with a calm and gentle voice.
“uh.. yeah-”
“i apologise if i’m being too pushy, i just thought a young, pretty girl like you being here alone could be risky. i wanted to make sure that you were alright.” he interrupted. “my name is young-il.”
he stretched out his hand towards you, waiting for your hand in to shake his.
“i’m y/n, nice to meet you.” you replied, still skeptical, but nevertheless you showed your appreciation with a handshake.
oh, right then and there. with your hand in his, the frontman in disguise was heating up. he craved so much more then merely your hand in his. he wanted to touch every part of you, leaving nothing that he had not savoured.
he was brought back into reality when you pulled your hand back, staring at him, waiting for the charismatic man to say yet another inviting sentence to draw you in more.
“i’m afraid i didn’t notice you during the first game.” young-il said.
you shifted on the bed, moving towards the headrest as you beckoned him to the empty space in front of you which he gladly complied.
“during red light, green light?” you asked and he nodded. “i was at the front, guess i didn’t want to take the risk of lagging behind.”
“you must have completed the game pretty fast then.” he stated.
“i had a few minutes left, i spent it trying to help those who were falling behind.” you shrugged.
there it was. that kindess, that compassion. it was exactly what he was looking for. right now he was the big bad wolf licking his lips as he sat watching his prey.
“you have a kind heart, y/n. how did a girl like you end up in this place?”
“just mixed around with the wrong people i guess, i plan to start a new when i get out of here.” you said, full of hope, making him grin.
the two of you spent the night talking, getting closer with every hour that passed. the more young-il talked to you, the more he felt the need to dive deeper, there was so much he wanted, no, needed to know about you. all he needed was time to earn your trust and he would have everything in his control. when you had fallen asleep, young-il checked the surroundings, ensuring that everyone was fast asleep before he walked up towards the masked guards.
“make sure every single one of you nutjobs get this message. whatever you do, do not hurt player 455. if i find a single scratch on her, i will kill you all myself. is that clear?” young-il whispered but was still somehow stern enough for the guards to be taken aback with fear.
things were starting to change with the frontman’s plan, but he could adapt to change right?
⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆
part two
the next day you were awoken by the cheerful song being played on the speakers.
“good sleep? you dosed off halfway during our talk last night.” young-il, chuckled, sitting on the edge of your bed, extending his hand out for you to take.
“were you here all night? my god, you should’ve went back to your bed! you didn’t sleep?!” you scolded as you took his hand.
he let out a laugh and helped you onto your feet.
“it’s no worries, y/n, i wasn’t tired.”
“so you watched me like a creep while i slept?”
“i- y-yeah, no! i mean n-no-”
“i’m kidding.” you cut the poor man off, “thank you.”
“yeah, of course.” he replied. “c’mon, let’s see what game we’re playing today.”
“ladies and gentleman, please follow in an orderly fashion to your next game.”
as you and young-il followed the crowd into the colorful, long, windy staircase.
“what if the next game is difficult, young-il?” you asked, following behind as he kept you close even when walking.
“hey, it’s okay, nothing will happen to us. i’ll make sure of it.” he smiled, pausing in his steps momentarily for you to walk beside him.
⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆
part three
when you entered the room, you realised it was much smaller than the room for ‘red light, green light’. this one however, had two large rainbow circles on the floor and 5 tables spaced equally around.
“this game will be played in groups of 5, the game will commence in 10 minutes.”
your eyes shot to young-il. before you could say anything, 3 men came up to you and young-il. “hey man, would you want to join our group?”
3 men stood behind young-il, player 390, player 388 and player 456.
“why not? me and y/n can-”
“oh… we were looking for a team of men.. i’m sorry but your friend can’t join us.” player 390 interrupted.
“no.” young-il said sternly. he wasted no time arguing and instead took your hand and walked away.
after searching for other groups that would take you both in, you realised it was useless. no one really wanted a girl in their group and you couldn’t blame them. you stopped and sighed, causing young-il to turn around.
“young-il, it’s useless. you should join them. i’ll find others, we don’t have time.” you sighed, beckoning him to leave before time ran out for the both of you.
“no. i can’t garuntee your safety that way.”
“you don’t have to. it’ll be fine i’ll see you when the game is over.”
“c’mon, y/n i-”
“miss?” a voice said from behind you. “we need one more person for our team, would you want to join us?”
it was a sweet old lady, behind her stood 2 girls, player 120 and player 095.
“mom did you find someone?” a man jogged towards the old woman. “oh great, okay just in time.”
“come dear, who says women can’t win this stupid game.” she grumbled, taking your hand and leading you towards her group.
“i’ll be fine.” you smiled, leaving young-il standing alone with worry in his eyes. with much hesistation, young-il let you go, joining the team of men without you.
“you, hey! come join us! let’s win this!” player 456 cheered, inviting young-il back into the group.
“time is up, please sit down in your groups… this is a six legged race where you will have to complete 5 mini games individually while being chained to each other. the games played will be ddakji, flying stone, gonggi, spinning top and jegi. please order yourself in which you will be playing the games in.”
a sense of unease set in in young-il. he searched the room to find you. even if he was worried, he couldn’t show it on the outside, it would be too risky for you and for him. he remained calm as he scanned the room for you, eyes eventually landing on your face from across the room.
⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆
part four
“we’re lucky we have many girls in this team! which games are you familiar with?” the old lady asked, looking at you.
“oh i’m not really sure, why don’t you guys pick first?” you replied embarrassed, an awkward smile plastered on your face.
as the others discussed which game they were going to play you looked around, searching for young-il once more. when you finally spotted him at the far end, you gave him a small smile and a wave, seeing how he was already looking at you.
“so i’ll play ddakji, your son will play flying stone, ma’am you’ll play gongi, ms 455 will play spinning top and ms 120 you will play jengi. is that alright?” player 095 said, looking around for approval from the group.
when the game started, your team was the first. you took your place on the rainbow with your team, all equally as nervous as you were.
“hey we’re gonna be okay, we’ll win easily.” you said offering a smile to the team.
“yes! we can do it ladies! oh and you too son.” the old lady said.
a gunshot fired in the air, indicating the start of the game.
“hana dul! hana dul! hana dul! hana dul!” every grunted in synchronicity, moving rather quickly to the first station.
the other players were up on their feet, following around the circle as they cheered.
1. ddakji
player 095 closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
piak!
the sound of the paper slapping on the ground echoed through the room, she opened her eyes and looked down. it flipped.
“first try! let’s go!” player 120 cheered.
“pass”
“hana dul! hana dul! hana dul! hana dul!”
2. flying stone
“son, just imagine. that rock is the face of the dealer that screwed you over.” the old lady said to her son making the rest of you snicker.
“you son of a bitch! give me my money back!” the man yelled as he threw the rock. without even trying, he managed to hit the other rock down.
“pass”
“holy shit! you did it!” you exclaimed. “let’s go! quick!” you exclaimed practically jumping in place.
hana dul! hana dul! hana dul! hana dul!
3. gonggi
“come, come! sit down everyone, i need to concentrate.” the old lady said.
she picked up the first few pieces with ease, but couldn’t catch the last one causing her to start over.
that must have struck a nerve because every try after that was not a sucess.
“mom. you said you played gonggi with bullets in the korean war, you can do it.” her son said. “picture it as dad’s face-”
“you imbecile!” she yelled as she picked all the pieces up again, putting them down and picking them up once more with ease.
“pass”
4. spinning top
young-il cheered like the rest, maybe even more. he was holding his breath with every step you took. even as the frontman, he wasn’t sure why he was anxious for a player like you to win. it was very unlike him but he had to admit it felt good.
he watched as you coiled the rope around the spinning top. he could see your hands shaking as everyone’s eyes burned holes into you.
with two minutes left on the clock you trusted your instincts and drew your hand back, carefully flicking your wrist. the spinning top flew through the air, with a soft bang it landed on the ground, spinning perfectly.
“pass”
“she did it!” young-il shouted, causing a roar of cheers to erupt as your team moved towards the last and final game.
hana dul! hana dul! hana dul! hana dul!
5. jegi
“can everyone look away? i just need some concentration.” player 120 asked. everyone including your team turned to look away, even with the time left, you were shaking with fear. one wrong move and you could leave this game as easy as you came in.
everyone remained quiet as you listened for the sound of the shoe and jegi coming into contact.
“one.”
“two.”
“three.”
“four.”
“five.”
“oh! we did it! that was five!” the old woman shouted.
you looked up seeing the guard makinga circle up with his arms.
“pass”
“let’s go! let’s go!”
with that, your team was let go. relief overwhelmed you as you passed the finish line. as the guards unchained your legs, you turned to the crowd finding young-il easily.
you offered him a smile and a little wave, making him do the same.
⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆
part five
when it was young-il’s turn his team took place at the start of the line.
“well, it’s a little sad that we don’t have an audience.” player 390 sighed.
“no, it’s good. we don’t have distractions.” player 388 replied.
throughout the game, there was one thing on young-il’s mind, getting back to you. he couldn’t wait for another of your late night conversations. the stupid smile you had when he cracked a horrible joke.
he knew that the game was designed so that there couldn’t be many mistakes made each round. when he joined it was merely for the thrill of it, also the fact that he wanted to see player 456 suffer. but now he knew he had to play the games thoroughly and right, he knew he had to do this to keep his promise to endure your safety.
⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆
part six
you waited anxiously on your bed as more groups came in, but not young-il. it was nerve wrecking, with every group that came in, somehow the number of player became lesser. it was made clear that not everyone was made to pass.
a few minutes later, the metal door swung open again.
the final group walked in, player 456, player 388, player 390, another player you hadn’t seen before player 222 and young-il.
young-il didn’t waste any time, he jogged back to your bed, seeing your smile widen as he came close. before he had the chance to say anything, you pulled him into a hug, wrapping your hands around his neck tightly as he bent down onto your bed.
“oh my god, you did it! i was so scared, i-i was so worried-”
“hey, it’s okay. it’s okay, i was worried sick too.” he chuckled, taking a seat beside you on the bed.
“i thought the team didn’t want a girl? how did she manage to get in?” you asked, pointing to player 222 who was now with the rest, talking and laughing.
“she was heavily pregnant. we didn’t have a choice, i’m so sorry they didn’t take you in.” he apologised as you shook your head.
“it’s okay, i understand. don’t worry. i’m just glad you made it.” you said, leaning so close that you could feel his bodyheat.
“you know… when i was playing the spinningtop, i couldn’t for the life of me figure out how you did it in one try!”
“of course, an old man like you comparing yourself to me?” you gasped sarcastically, making him laugh.
“yea right, come on says the one who’s almost lying on me.”
you jerked back, you hadn’t even noticed.
“i’m so sorry, are you uncomfortable? i can mov-”
“hey, i’m playing around. come back, you can do whatever you want. i’m just a makeshift pillow for you.”
you sneered and laid your head on his shoulder, legs tangled together on the bed as you could feel the rhythm of his breathing match yours.
“thank you, young-il.” you whispered, your hand finding his, squeezing it to show your appreciation.
young-il looked down to your hand in his and raised it to his lips, giving it a gentle peck. “anytime, y/n.”
whethere he liked it or not, the game had hit a big obstacle. as the frontman he needed to balance between running the games and keeping it safe for you, and preventing player 456 from infiltrating.
even so, he knew the dangers of the next game. ‘mingle’ was one set out to kill, his plans were all falling apart. frontman realised that keeping you came with a cost, and it was one he was willing to pay.
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lokis-army-77 · 1 year ago
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Private Viewing
Camboy!Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word Count: 6.8k
What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?
Warning: 18 +. This is pure fucking filth. Spit, masturbation (m and f), use of vibrators and fleshlight, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f reviving), fingering, voyeurism? Soft!dom Eddie, tell me if I'm missing anything.
Thank you @lesservillain for giving me this wonderful idea. 💗 and @munson-blurbs for figuring out if I should do this for Steve or Eddie and for helping give me a title💗.
Masterlist
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Nothing but slick sounds filled your room, the occasional deep moan calling out from your laptop speakers accompanying your own sweet cries. The guy on the screen, Ed as he called himself, or DungeonMaster as he was known on Only Fans and Twitter, was fisting his cock in his heavily ringed hand. He was putting on a show for more than ten thousand viewers but the way he stared down the camera with those dark eyes made you think he was watching you, fucking his hand to the way you were pumping your fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy. 
You had stumbled upon his Twitter three months ago and he immediately captured your eye. The way his tattoos wrapped around his pale skin, how he wasn’t all lean muscle like the other OF guys, his tummy by no means a six-pack but he still looked strong enough to sweep you off your feet with ease. His moans were heavenly and so was the deep timber of his force as he praised you through the thirty-second video clip. It was all enough to convert you from your usual consumption of smutty books to the infamous Only Fans sight. 
Since then, his streams and videos have become the one and only thing you get off to. And like then, tonight was no exception. 
You were so close to the edge, Ed’s moans spurring you on. Your fingers move at an almost inhuman pace in and out, in and out. 
“Rub that clit for me, baby. Need you to cum.” He groaned, head resting on his shoulder as he continued you pleasure himself. 
“Fuck!” You gasp as you rub your clit with your free hand. Your rhythm is horribly off but it doesn’t matter, you are so close to cumming. So so so close. “Please,” you beg out into your empty room. You aren’t too sure why or what you are pleading for. More friction? More fingers? More words of encouragement from him? Maybe you’re asking to cum? 
It’s like he had heard you through the screen as he moaned out, “That’s a good girl. Just like that. Doing so well for me. You gonna cum baby? Yeah? Me too. Want me to count for you?” He nods his head lazily. “I knew you would baby. Okay. Five.”
You want to cry.
“Four.” 
The strings tugging inside you are becoming taut.
“Three.”
You feel like you’re going to explode. He’s counting too slowly.
“Two.”
The tears are flowing now.
“One.”
You let out a strangled scream.
“Cum baby. Do it, now.”
Your walls clench around your fingers and your legs snap shut, trapping your fingers. Every muscle in your body is shuddering as those strings snap and your release comes out in a stream, wetting your hand and the bed. Your hearing has gone, there’s a ringing in your ears but you can faintly hear Ed cumming as well. 
With watery vision and slow movements, you turn to face your laptop screen just in time to see his tattoo-covered chest painted with milky white ropes of cum. 
When the ringing subsides you hear him say more clearly, “Thata girl. Always make me cum so much.” He takes a towel and wipes off his chest and stomach before adjusting the camera view to the shoulders up. “Get you some rest baby, I’ll see you on Thursday.” 
And then the live is over. 
Slowly, sluggishly, you remove your hands from between your legs and begin the now regular clean-up routine before going to bed. 
Three days later, Thursday rolls around, and thus begins the fall semester of your junior year of college. It’s a groggy morning, everyone is tired and very unenthusiastic about having an 8 a.m. advanced music composition class. 
You had struggled to get out of bed at six this morning just to get one of the dorm showers first before they were all taken up. Luckily two of the five were open and you were able to get to class a whole twenty minutes early, even having time to grab coffee at the on-campus Starbucks on the way.
The music building was old and the tables you and your fellow students sat at were even older. It all added to the sleepy ambiance. Your eyes drooped and you yawned every time someone else did, the black coffee you had chugged not doing anything for you. 
You’re only awoken when your professor, a stout old man with a very severe receding hairline, slams open the door to the classroom a little too hard and it hits the brick wall, creating a loud, startling bang. 
He apologizes before making his introduction.  He then gets out a clipboard with a sheet attached and hands it off to a girl in the front row, instructing everyone to fill in their name and school email for his role sheet.
It’s only once you’ve finished and passed the clipboard on, that you notice the guy two seats down from you looks vaguely familiar. You can’t quite put a finger on it and it bugs you. 
His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his clothes make him look like the alternative guy of your dreams back in high school. He’s got rings on almost every finger and an aura that just screams confidence. 
It begins to become a problem, your inability to place this guy's face. You’ve only taken a handful of notes the entire first hour and thirty minutes into this two-hour class. Your eyes are constantly staring at him no matter how hard you try to make yourself pay attention. 
Then, he raises his hand to answer one of your professor's questions. That’s when it clicks. Your pen falls from your grasp and your mouth forms an O. 
“Oh my fucking god. No. It can’t be.” You think to yourself but just to be sure you take out your phone, turn the brightness and volume down, and hide it under the table. You open Twitter as fast as you can and you don’t even have to look for his user, he’s the first post on the screen. 
Ed @ DungeonMaster86 was boldly displayed above a picture of the guy sitting next to you with his massive dick in his hand. 
It’s a wonder you weren’t caught with how you practically choked on thin air and began furiously looking from your phone to the guy and then back to your phone. 
Your stomach drops. You can’t keep watching his videos, can you? That wouldn’t be right. That would be weird, watching the porn your classmate makes. 
When class is finally called to an end you pack up as quickly as you can and bolt out the door to your next class, hoping that by getting away from Ed, you'd be able to concentrate. Out of sight, out of mind.
That statement turns out to be false when he is in your next class and when you spot him in the student commons talking with another guy. It's like once you made the connection of who he was, he was everywhere.
Arriving back at your dorm, you throw your backpack on your desk, snatch your laptop out of it, and struggle to jump up onto your bed. Never had you been so thankful for the single dorm than this moment as your curser hovered over the bookmarked Only Fans page at the top of your screen. No roommate meant no one would see the moral dilemma you were currently losing with yourself. 
‘You know him, it’s wrong to keep watching his videos.”
‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him though. The only way he would know you are watching is if you tell him, you aren’t going to tell him, are you?’
‘No…’ 
‘Then it’s okay, it’ll just add an extra element of taboo to his streams. Plus, he’d miss you in the chat.’
You sigh as the devil on your shoulder wins out once again, talking you into something you know you shouldn’t be. But hey, it feels good to be bad. 
Steadily, you click on his bookmarked profile and the first thing to pop up is the live stream that is currently in session. And against your better judgment, you enter the stream.
He’s only just started, people are slowly filtering in. Ed is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt off, and a singular, ringed hand teasing himself through his black jeans. 
You breathe a sigh as he looks into the camera, eyes half-lidded, luring you in. It does the job, because in an instant your fingers are typing out a message in chat. 
Princess23: hi Ed
His eyes flicker as he reads his messages, smiling as he replies to you. "Hi, Princess. How's my girl been?"
There's a bubble of excitement at the fact that he recognizes your username, even if you've been a regular in the chat for months.
Princess23: stressful… you've been distracting me.
The reply to his question is truer than he realizes. 
"Aww, princess, is that so? You've been thinking of me?" He leans back on his free elbow, still groping himself with the other hand.
Princess23: yes. been thinking about your cock, how much I want it in my mouth. 
It's one of the less bold comments you make but it makes you blush all the same, especially now.
"Yeah? You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth? Of yours?"
Princess23: yes please
"Mmm." He hums, fingers now fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans. 
You set your laptop to the side and start to situate yourself. Slowly taking your clothes off one by one. 
Ed replies to a few more comments before announcing that it's time to start.
He leaves the screen for just a moment before coming back with something in his hand. Smirking at the camera he shows it. A flashlight in the shape of a mouth.
"This one’s for you, Princess. Since you need my dick so bad," Ed explains. He sets it on his bed before making a show of taking his jeans and boxers off. 
As you watch, your hands roam your body. Fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples before trailing down. The light touch over your ribs makes you giggle. Then you rub and scratch at the inside of your thighs. 
Ed's moans are now coming through your speakers, you tilt your head to watch.
"Spit on my cock baby, get it nice and wet for me." He commands before spitting in his own hand and rubbing it on his thick length. 
"Your mouth looks so pretty like this, waiting, drooling for me. Need me to fill it so bad don't you, baby?" 
"Yes." You answer him breathlessly, fingers teasing around your mound. 
You watch and he sits back down on his bed, thighs spread, a hand cupping his balls and the other grabbing the fleshlight. He lets out a long, drawn-out moan when he inserts his cock into the fake mouth. 
"Fuck baby, your mouth feels so perfect." 
You can't help but whine. Allowing your fingers to finally circle your clit. 
The both of you go one like this for a bit. Him fucking the fleshlight and you massaging your clit. But then you need more, more than your hand can give you. So you reach to your bedside table, stretching at an uncomfortable angle to open the drawer and pull out the purple mini wand you kept there.
The vibrations start slow and constant as you press the toy to your clit. It pulls soft, quiet noises from you as you watch your computer screen. Your mind is blank, filled only with the pretty sounds Ed is making, the way his body looks, and the pleasure between your legs.
There are no thoughts. You follow his lead. When his hand speeds up, you kick up the vibrations, when he slows down, you turn the vibrator back to the first level. 
It's a rollercoaster, almost, taking your pleasure for a ride. The stream isn't even done yet when you feel that tight pull in your abdomen. The toy works you up fast. 
So you stop. Taking the toy away and changing positions. On your hands and knees, you hug a pillow to your chest and prop the toy up under you, keeping it standing as you push your clit down onto it. It's not even on and it's making your hips buck in sensitivity.
You turn it back on and immediately feel the slick seeping from your cunt and running down the toy. 
"Oh fuck," you cry.  Your eyes locked on the screen where Ed has also changed positions. 
He's got his own toy lying on the bed and he's laying over it. The way his leg and glute muscles contract as he thrusts into the toy has you memorized. 
He chants, "Baby, baby, baby." Over and over. What you would give to have him chanting your name instead. Like a prearranged falling from his lips, praising you, worshiping you.
The need for him grows and so does the tightness in your core. 
Reaching your hand down you turn the speed up. Your hips buck into the toy and you bury your face in the pillow. You're close.
He’s not far behind. Peering up from your pillow you can see his thrusts are sputtering. Sporadic as he draws close to his end. 
“God dammit, baby. Gonna cum in this perfect mouth of yours. Fuck. Can you swallow it like the good pet you are? Hum? The good pet I know you can be?”
“Yes.” You turn up the vibrator. “Fuck, wanna swallow all of you. Please.” 
The vibrations are becoming too much but you keep the toy pressed into you, hips shaking at the feeling of being overstimulated. 
Without warning, you cum with a guttural cry into your pillow. Body spasming, muscles twitching. You can still hear Ed moaning and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking the fleshlight. 
With barely any energy you reach down between your heavy body and the bed and turn your toy off. You don’t even bother with your computer, too exhausted and fucked out to exit the stream. You fall asleep to the sounds of your new classmate's self-pleasure. 
It’s October now. The semester is halfway over and you’ve still been watching Ed, or Eddie. You learned his actual name in class when your professor called role on him by name the second week. 
Today you are being assigned a partner for the final project. You have your fingers crossed that Eddie won’t be chosen as your partner but as your professor calls out pairs, it seems luck is against you. 
You freeze when your name is called and directly after so is Eddie’s. You groan internally. How the hell are you supposed to do this? You already have trouble concentrating when he sits two seats away, what’s going to happen when he actually interacts with you?
There isn’t much time to think about that as he abruptly moves from his seat to the one directly next to you. 
“Hi.” He says, eyes bright and expectant. “I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand for you to shake but you just stare at him. He looks at you curiously before waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? Cat got your tongue?”
You snap out of your stupor and accept his hand, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Sorry. I was a bit out of it.” You say, trying to play it off as you just staring off into space. 
“No problem.” He smiles. “Uh, do you want to exchange numbers so we can figure out when we can work on this together?” 
“Oh, yeah. Here,” You open your phone and push it to him with the messages app open. “You can text yourself.” 
He does just that, even going as far as putting in his contact name as Eddie with the skull and crossbones emoji beside it. 
“Great. I’ll text you when I’m free. I have work on Mondays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays, but other than that I’m usually free.”
You nearly choke when you realize he’s given you his streaming schedule. “I- uh. Okay. Just text me when you can.”
"Sure thing sweetheart." He grins at you before standing, grabbing his things, and heading out of class along with the rest of the students. 
You sit there for a minute, thinking. God, what are you getting yourself into?
You both have finally come up with meeting times that work for both of you. Tuesday and Wednesday after seven. Giving you time to get to the school library after the closing shift at your on-campus job. 
It’s been two weeks of working together on this project and it’s been easier than you had originally thought to concentrate on the task at hand and keep your dirty thoughts at bay. 
Right now, you are both sitting in one of the private study rooms looking at Eddie’s computer as he explains why this particular cord progression would fit with the emotions you are trying to convey in your composition. 
You sigh, “Eddie, as much as I love that sound, I really don’t think it fits with the overall composition of the song. It isn’t as emotionally charged as I’d like it to be.”
“Well show me something similar to what you’re wanting.” He rakes his hand through his hair. It’s been a long night for each of you. It seems that every new section of the song you are creating for the project gives you a new challenge to work through together. 
You pull out your phone and Eddie leans over to watch as you begin to type. There is a particular song you are thinking of that has the weight and emotion you are trying to convey with your own music and as you type the first letter of the song, O, the first suggestion that pops up is onlyfans/DungeonMaster. 
Mortified, you slam your phone down on the table. Eddie looks at you with an eyebrow raised. 
“What was that?” He asks.
“What was what?” You answer. 
“Why did you slam your phone down?”
“Oh, I just forgot the title of the song.”
“Right…” He scratches under his chin and then stretches back in his chair. “Why don’t we call it quits for tonight? It’s getting late and we aren’t going to agree on anything if we’re both tired.”
A yawn suddenly comes up out of nowhere and you then realize how tired you actually are. “That sounds good to me.” You agree with Eddie and begin packing up your things. You don’t want to be with him longer than you need to be right now, even if he seemingly didn’t notice his OF user pop up on your phone screen. 
“Bye Eddie.” You wave to him on your way out the door.
Faintly you hear him call out to you, giving a goodbye of his own. "See ya, sweetheart."
… 
After your little slip, you began avoiding Eddie. At least in person, you still tuned into his streams. You bailed on the next three meetups you had planned, helping only through voice notes and text. Eddie said he understood when you said your boss was forcing you to stay late to deep clean. 
It was Thursday now and when you saw him in class he barely looked your way and you wondered if he had seen what you hoped he had not. 
You tried stopping him once your lecture was over, feeling an anxiousness creeping into your mind. Your conscience had been telling you to come clean. To explain your perversion. Let him know you watched him, that you paid to enjoy seeing him fuck into a toy or his hand. 
You called out his name and reached for his arm. "Eddie."
He turns to you. "Hum?"
You take a deep breath to ground yourself. "I wanted to say sorry for not being able to come help with the project."
"It's okay, you said you had work." He replies, unbothered. 
"No, Eddie, I didn't get held back at work. That was a lie."
He doesn't look all too surprised. 
"I've kinda been avoiding you because- well, because of what I think you might have seen on my phone that day."
Eddie stops you there. "Can this wait until later? I've really got some errands to run before work."
"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry to keep you Ed." You had meant it as a nickname but as it came pushing past your lips it was too late to take it back. You had never heard anyone call him that outside of his onlyfans. 
You watched as his eyes widened at the name and a spark went off behind them. "I'll see you later sweetheart." The smirk he gives you isn't the usual playful one you'd seen him throw before. No, this was sinister, like he knew.
Your heart fell into your stomach as you watched him walk away, leaving you alone.
Tonight as you logged into the stream, it wasn’t to get off. It was to see if he'd show any signs of knowing you might be lurking about among the thousands of viewers.
When the video loads, Eddie is sitting in his desk chair. He's talking to the chat like he always does. There's something different in the atmosphere around him, mischief if you've placed it correctly. 
He keeps replying to comments until the clock reaches 6:10. It's time for the show to begin. 
"Tonight I have a very special treat for you guys." Eddie starts as he reaches over just off camera to his desk. "I've got the wand out." 
The chat erupts. Eddie doesn't bring his vibrator out often, but when he does, you know it's going to be a good show for every party involved. 
"I would also like to say hello to a special quest in the stream tonight." Eddie’s smirk gets bigger and your heart pounds in your chest. "Hi, sweetheart. Hope you enjoy yourself." 
You feel like you've been shot. There's a ringing in your ears and your breathing has stopped. 
He knows. Fuck. He definitely knows. You've never heard him say that pet name on camera. It's always babe or baby when he refers to the collective whole watching the stream. Eddie has only ever used that name with you.
Eddie starts up the vibrator, tracing it over his covered cock. He hums at the feeling, loud and long. 
You clench your thighs together. You tell yourself you should stop watching but you can't bring yourself to. 
'He knows." You argue with yourself.
'But he wants you to watch. Why else would he say his pet name for you? Why else would he say he hopes you enjoy yourself? He knows and he likes it.'
The devil on your shoulder makes sense again and you curse it. 
So, you watch. Intently, you watch. Your eyes never leave the screen. 
Eddie whimpers once he has his cock out of his pants. The tip is a deep purple/red color, showing how worked up he's gotten already.
He lets his head fall back, resting on his chair as he moves the vibrator down to his balls. He presses it into himself before dragging it up his shaft and to the head. 
You feel a wetness seeping into the cotton of your panties and as his legs widen, yours press together more. 
"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, sweetheart." Eddie moans, mouth open slack and eyes squeezed shut. 
You can't believe he's saying your pet name and making those noises. You wonder what he's thinking about. How you'd look sucking on his cock? Maybe what it would be like to be pounding into you, watching your cunt suck him in and clench around him. 
Eddie grits his teeth when he turns the speed up. One hand is holding the vibrator just at the frenulum while the other is cupping and squeezing his balls. 
Your thoughts are running wild and your hips have started to rock in search of some kind of friction.
He moves his hand from his balls and begins to tug on his shaft. Deep guttural moans fill the air, and the sound of them turns you on even more. 
It's not long before Eddie is bucking his cock into his hand. You can see his muscles straining in his legs as he does. 
"Fuck fuck fuck- ah fuck sweetheart, you've got me so close. Fuck." His voice is pinched. You can see the exhaustion in the furrow of his eyebrows as he pressed the vibrator over his tip, the change in placement making his hips shudder. “God, I’m gonna cum. The thought of you is gonna make me cum, sweetheart.” 
Hearing his breathy, deep, timber of a voice say that the thought of you was going to do him in had you thinking you might just cum too. No touching required, just Eddie and his beautiful noises. 
In a matter of seconds, Eddie is choking on his words as his balls go taut. He lets out a drawn-out grunt and ropes of cum begin to spurt out over his chest, covering him like a painting. He doesn’t even bother to clean himself up before he looks into the camera and says good night, chuckling when he mentions your particular pet name again. Then, the screen goes dark. 
Fridays are slow in the used bookshop you work at. Especially after 4:30. No one had been inside in maybe an hour? Your boss left early, leaving you alone to close down at 6. For the past fifteen minutes, you’ve been putting misplaced books back where they belong, sweeping, and tidying up anything else you see. 
Because of the usual slowness, you have your headphones on. The music isn’t loud but it does drown out the sound of the bell chiming as someone enters the building. You are unaware of the person creeping up behind you until you are suddenly turned around and corralled against the bookshelf. 
You let out an alarmed screech only for your mouth to be covered by a big, warm hand. Your headphones fall to the floor beside you as they are accidentally knocked off your head. You hear his voice then, whispering in your ear. 
“Hi, Sweetheart.” 
“Eddie-” You heave, relieved it wasn’t someone coming to kill you in cold blood.
“Did you enjoy my show last night?” He leans back, caressing a strand of hair away from your face. 
You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You deny. Even after you had told yourself you would come clean to him, granted that was before you knew he knew your secret. 
“You don’t know, do you? I think you do why else would my account have popped up on your search suggestions the other day?” 
Keeping your mouth shut, you refuse to answer. 
Eddie takes your chin between his fingers and moves your face to the side as he leans into you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks again. “So… Which one of my subs are you? Hum?”
Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. 
Eddie tuts. “Don’t get all shy on me. Tell me. Now.” His tone is dominating. It’s one thing to hear it over a computer speaker, it's another when you hear it in person. His presence alone had your knees knocking. 
“I-I,” You can't help but stutter. “It’s Princess23.” You shamefully tell him your user, eyes looking anywhere but his.
He sucks in a breath. “Oh, Princess. That was you?”
He forces you to look at him and you nod your head. 
You hate that he’s making you look him in the eye, but you can see what’s swirling around deep within them. Desire, lust, dominance, but nothing mean. Nothing hurtful. 
As you watch him, you catch the minute changes in his expression. His jaw clenches and his eyes darken, a hunger taking over as he stares you down. 
“I can give you a private show if you want, baby.” He leans back in. “Right here,” He nipps at your ear lobe. “Right now.” 
“Eddie, we can’t… We’re at my work.” 
He looks around you, head swiveling to peer down both ends of the aisle. “It’s fine Sweetheart, no one’s here but us, right?”
“Yes, but-”
He cuts you off with a finger over your lips. 
“Then let me show you why the real thing is so much better than what you’ve seen online.” He doesn’t give you time to think before his lips are on yours. 
They are soft, almost pillow-like as they mold against yours. His tongue slithers its way into your mouth, tasting you, he moans when he does. 
To you, he tastes like menthol cigarettes and black coffee with the faintest hint of weed. It’s intoxicating, and addicting. You’ve only had one taste and now you won't be able to function without him.  
His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. His body keeps you pinned to the shelves and he spreads your legs by inserting one of his own between them.
With him being so much taller than you, it only takes you barely bending your knees for you to make contact with his thigh. You are thankful when he doesn’t stop you from humping his leg. The friction of you rubbing yourself against him has the seam of your pants pressing against your clit. It’s a wonderful pressure that leaves your mind blank. 
When he pulls away, you follow, not wanting his mouth to leave yours. Eddie chuckles when you give a needy whine. 
"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He coos. "But first, since you wanna get yourself off, you've got to make yourself cum on my leg."
You pout. "But Eddie…"
"Ah ah, don't complain sweet girl, you'll only make it take longer. Now get to work."
You do as he says, rolling your hips with purpose against him. He doesn't help you at all, he only provides support and kissed along your jaw every few seconds as he watches you work. 
It's harder than you thought it would be. The layers of denim dulled the sensations yet added to the tension your clit felt as the fabric rubbed against it. 
"Mmm, fuck." You gasp, fingers gripping onto Eddie’s shoulders. "M'so close. Eddie, I'm so close."
He smiles at you and he gives your body gentle touches. "That's it, Princess. Let go. Being such a good girl for me."
You moan loudly at his praise. 
"That right sweet girl, use me to get yourself off. That's it, keep going."
His words are spurring you on, your hips, although losing their rhythm and steadiness, keep going strong. Then, you feel it. That tautness in your tummy and the ache in your bones. You are so close.
"Please, Eddie. Ah- so close. Need more." Your words are short and your hips move faster. 
"What is it, baby? What do you need?" Eddie asks, willing to give you just a little.
"Kiss me again," you beg. 
He obliges. Taking your face in his hands and practically devouring you. 
The canter of your hips stalls as your body shudders against him. A sticky wetness can now be felt,  uncomfortably, between your legs.
"So good for me." He praises.
You can feel how hard he is, his needy cock prominently pressing into your thigh.
"Wanna feel you. Eddie please, I need to feel you." You're practically begging him to fuck you now.
"Yeah, sweet girl? You need me to stretch that pretty pussy on my dick? Make you feel so good, baby." He trailed his kiss down to your neck, stopping only to suck and nip at the sensitive skin. 
You nod frantically. "Yes, yes Eddie. Need you inside me."
Hands rush to unbutton pants, fingers caress bare skin, breaths hitch. You tug at Eddie's pants impatiently as he pulls your own down. The sudden feeling of cold air hitting the pool of slick between your thighs. 
You are both a whirlwind of arms and clothes and a few books falling from their shelf. Eddie’s fingers make their way to your center, exploring between your folds. 
You throw your head back, cracking it on the shelf above. "Ow," You moan out in pain.
"Careful there, Sweetheart." He gives you another kiss and moves his unoccupied hand to cradle your head.
The pain is instantly forgotten when two of his thick fingers circle your clit before pushing into your entrance.
"Mmmm- god." He feels so good inside you, fingers curling into your walls. The wet slick of him moving fills the stagnant air of the bookstore.
"You're sucking me in, baby. Pussy squeezing me so tight." Eddie rests his forehead on yours, his breath mixing with your own. "Can't wait to feel you around my cock."
Gasping in response, you buck your hips up into his hand. "More-"
It doesn't take much convincing for Eddie to pull his hand from between your legs and position his hard length at your entrance. Slowly he slips inside, meeting no resistance with how wet you are. 
Eddie pushes into you, cock stretching you out farther than you think you've ever been before. His one hand rests on the back of your head while the other pushes your shaking hand out of his way as he goes to press it against your neck.
You grasp his arm, nails scratching his skin as he chokes you. 
"Oh- oh, Eddie. Fuck me." You cry, cunt fluttering around him. 
Your words are music to his ears. His pace begins steadily. In and out at a lazy, leisurely speed. Then he picks it up, hips bucking faster and faster. 
He's giving it all to you. Everything you've dreamed of since you saw him on your Twitter all those months ago.
The head of his cock is repeatedly hitting that one spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You can’t keep yourself up. The feelings coursing through you have your knees buckling and Eddie does a good job at catching your weight. 
He stops his movements to try and situate you. “Come on, baby, gotta stand up.” 
You shake your head. “I can’t, s’too much.” Your heart is pounding in your chest, if you even tried to stand you would just fall again. “There's a couch.” You point to the back of the store. “It’s in the break room.” 
Eddie grunts as he hoists you up in his arms and follows your directions. 
The couch is old and made of leather. It is cold on your skin as Eddie lays you down and you shiver as he rips your pants and underwear from around your ankles. Never would you have ever imagined being naked from the waist down in your work break room. 
In contrast to the cool leather, Eddie’s hands are searing hot. He grips the back of your knees, picking your legs up and spreading you out. You’re almost folded in half. 
“Jesus fucking christ. You. Are. Beautiful.” He enunciated every word. The complement has you keening and clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at that pretty cunt. She’s gaping for me.” Eddie smiles, eyes flickering to yours before looking back to your most intimate part. 
You let out a wonton gasp when he spits, a glob of it falling right atop your parted slit. Eddie takes a hand away and grabs his cock. He rubs the tip through your folds, giving your clit a heavy tap tap tap before entering you again and grabbing the back of your knee again. 
Eddie wastes no time in pistoning his hips into yours. The new angle gives him free range of movement to fuck you fast and deep. The skin of his thighs makes a sharp slapping sound when he connects with your ass, it sets the rhythm for the song of your shared moans. 
“Pull your shirt up.” He commands and you do as he says. Lifting your shirt up and over your breasts. Eddie lets out an irritated grunt at the sight of your bra. “That too.” He puffs out and you pull it up as far as it will allow. 
Your breasts bounce as Eddie fucks you mercilessly into the couch. His eyes are shamelessly trained on them. “Fucking hell, Princess. Gimmie our hands.” 
You reach out for him and he grabs your wrists, guiding you to hold your legs back like he had been doing. With the newfound freedom of his hands, he extends them out to play with your tits.  He pinches and tugs at your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as he continues his assault. His thrusts become faster, harder, more desperate. You know he's close and you can't take much more either. 
“Eddie… Ah- Eddie-” You babble out his name. You wiggle under his hold and the harsh prodding of his cock into your cervix. The strings of another orgasm are being pulled tight. 
He growls. “I know baby, I know. Fucking cum for me. Cum on my cock.” 
Tears well up in your eyes and begin to overflow. Your body writhes, back bowing, muscles straining. You’re on the precipice. 
Eddie sees how close you are and moves a hand down between your legs, circling his thumb over your slick-covered clit. 
“Oooh- Oh fuck!” You scream. “Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit…. Ah!” 
“Louder.” He moans. “Want the whole town to hear you sweet girl.” 
“Eddie! Oh, I’m there. I’m fucking there.” You cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you let go. A scream erupts from your throat. Even in your ecstasy, you can feel Eddie’s tempo shift. He’s losing speed. 
“Goddammit. I cumming too.” Eddie whimpers, sinking into you fully. His cum fills you up and you can fill you as it runs down your ass as he pulls out. 
Your body is twitching as he moves you to lay more fully on the couch. He doesn’t follow though. No. He sinks to his knees and before your foggy mind can even comprehend it, he attaches his mouth to your pussy.  
You are pliant under his touch, unable to resist. His tongue explores you and you moan in pleasure. He’s lapping up the mixture of his cum and your slick, humming at the taste the whole time. 
You choke back a sob when his tongue flicks repeatedly over your clit before he begins to suck on the already abused bud. “Eddie, please.” Reaching down you tug on his hair but he doesn’t move. “Ed-” He starts shaking his head, burying himself in your pussy. 
Another orgasm is quickly approaching. Your breathing quickens and you can feel your body trembling as he works you up, sending you higher and higher until you can’t take it anymore. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and your body spasms in pleasure. He doesn't stop, continuing his ministrations until you finally come down from your high once more.
“Christ. You taste so good.” He says as he crawls up your spent body. Draping himself over you he places kiss after tender kiss all over your face. “Did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.” 
“Yeah?” You whisper. 
“Mhum. So proud.” He grins, the light of the room catching in the wetness covering him from nose to chin. 
Eddie cuddles into you more and your eyes close. He’s exhausted you. You both lay there in silence, content in each other's presence. Eddie eventually falls asleep, his breathing slow and steady. You don’t have the heart or the energy to wake him. You stay awake, just barely, still in awe of what happened. 
It feels like hours have gone by when you finally do shake Eddie, calling out to him softly. He stirs, grumbling as he looks up at you. 
“Eds, baby, I need to lock up.” 
He only rests his head back down between your breasts. You shake him again. 
“Eddie.” You say it a bit more sternly. “Get up and I’ll let you take me back to yours.” 
That gets his attention and he’s up and dressing himself in an instant. You on the other hand are slower, feeling the prominent ache between your legs. He has to help you pull your panties and jeans back on. 
He has to help you close the store as well, your legs weak and not trusted to hold up your body weight without crumbling to the ground. 
Never had you thought this was how this would end. Sitting in the passenger seat of your favorite camboy's car as he drives you to his apartment, grinning like the Cheshire cat as you both think of all the fun things you’ll get up to. Round two was bound to be wilder than the first. 
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little-pondhead · 9 months ago
Text
[unedited. In this, I gave Danny a walking cane to help with mobility issues caused by his nerve damage. Feel free to continue where I left off!]
Everyone knew about the coffee shop. They couldn’t remember the name. It’s been there forever, on the corner of Gotham Proper and the East End. Northwest of the opera house. A few blocks away from the high school. You know, that coffee shop.
Some of the seniors at the high school insisted it really did have a name. It was one of many in some corporate chain. They couldn’t tell you what it was no matter how hard they tried, and none of the freshman believed them. Why would the coffee shop need a name? Everyone knew where it was. It was a popular spot. There were only a few employees at a time, but they always knew what everyone wanted and the line was always super short from how fast they worked.
There were a few odd things that always stood out, however. The coffee shop was always ahead in food trends and popular drinks, so they never ran out of supplies. The kitchen had been expanding to fit more equipment than what a coffee shop needed. (The construction crew didn’t make a peep, even in the middle of the work day.) Those few employees that could cook prided themselves on being able to make anything you wanted, even if they shouldn’t logically have the ingredients on hand. They always charged you what you could afford and not a cent over, which seemed weird considering it was part of a chain. Shouldn’t they be focusing on profits? But no one had ever met the local owner, and no one had any complaints about it, so the issue was left alone.
All of these points were easy to look over. Most people were just glad to have a warm drink and a filling meal at the end of the day.
There was…one more thing, however. Something that caused the hairs on people’s necks to rise as soon as they crossed the threshold, right before the warmth of the shop hit them, brushing the feeling away. Something that called for them to come back, to relax, to be kind and quiet. Something that was a waiting danger in a cursed city.
That something was a boy.
He was by far the youngest employee there, and always worked the register, sitting on a little stool with a cane by his side. Probably wasn’t even of legal working age. But this was Gotham; who the hell cared?
No, what made him strange was his piercing eyes that seemed to look straight into your soul. He was the best at telling you what you needed, no matter if you knew it yourself or not. His cold hands made people shiver as he exchanged money with them, and his voice was smooth when he asked for their name.
People gave it to him without hesitation. He would smile gently, say thank you, and write the name in horrible cursive on a cup or kitchen ticket, never misspelling it, and sending it back to be made before beckoning the next customer forward. The first time someone experienced this, they usually experienced some sort of foggy overstimulation as they wandered to the pick up counter, thanking the kind baristas. Everything felt bright and strange and loud, like they were just plopped into another world.
The second time was easier, and they often felt light as a feather. The third time made people sneeze. The fourth made them cry, and the fifth made them happy. This tended to go on up until a person’s twelfth visit. As soon as they gave their name for the twelfth time, a few things clicked into place, and a few slipped away. It was always a special visit, whether they knew it or not, and they never walked out of there the same.
Today was Tim’s twelfth visit.
The commute to the coffee shop was the same. He’d memorized it months ago, even though he hadn’t had the chance to go as often as he’d liked. The shop was always neat and tidy on the outside, and he took a strange comfort in the split second feeling of fear that shot through his system as he opened the door.
Something felt wrong, why was he happy to be afraid?
“Hello! Nice to see you, Tim!” The boy was at the counter again, smiling widely and waving to Tim.
Tim smiled back and approached the register. “Hey, uh, how are you today?”
Why don’t I know his name? He’s wearing a name tag.
“Doing okay so far. My cane was being an ass, but I made it to work safely.” The boy tapped away at the menu, apparently ringing up Tim’s order.
I haven’t even told him what I want.
“Don’t worry about what you want, this is what you need, Tim.”
“Oh, okay.” Tim felt a little floaty. Of course the boy knew what he needed, it was obvious. Man, how tired was he? Tim rubbed his eyes and turned away for a second.
Blinking, he scanned the shop with fresh eyes, noticing things he never did before. The boy’s cane was made of wood, with an ugly face carved into it. Wasn’t it a black metal cane earlier? Some of the windows were casting rainbows despite the lack of sun. It smelled of ash despite no fireplace existing. A jackhammer was going off in the unfinished kitchen literally thirty feet away, but no noise was being made and no dust was in the air.
Something isn’t right.
The boy poked his arm, a cheeky grin on his face and a blue marker in hand. “Can I have your name?”
“Tim.”
A violent shiver ran up his spine as his name rolled off his tongue. It felt like he just got shoved to the side by a gust of cold wind. The boy-Danny-didn’t notice as he stuck his tongue out and drew little shaky stars around his name on a cup.
His name is Danny. That’s what the name tag says.
He blinked, moving to the side in a daze so the next customer could come forward. Were the lights in the shop always so bright? No, it wasn’t the lights. It was Danny. He practically glowed under the cheap fluorescent. His ears were pointed, and his teeth were sharp as he bared silly grins at everyone. His eyes were green now, too. Or were they always green?
They weren’t.
A barista behind Danny turned to grab a lid and he spied sparkling dragonfly wings cascading down her back, right out in the open. Another had longer ears than Danny did, and a third had actual metal disks braided into their hair. Almost everyone behind the counter was very much not human.
Why didn’t I notice this before?
The shop changed, too. Artistic scribbles on the walls became lines of swirling script-the same kind Danny had written on his name tag. He would need a notebook and a few days to properly read it all. More and more customers seemed to warp behind his very eyes. Every time Danny greeted them by name, they both glowed a little brighter. One little girl had scales on her face. An old man was sporting a pair of rat ears that twitched as he enjoyed a grilled cheese.
His skin suddenly felt itchy. He scratched absentmindedly at his hand, a little unsure of what was going on. He had the sudden urge to go stargazing.
“Hot chocolate for [ ]!”
His feet were moving before he realized. The barista smiled as she handed him a to-go cup of hot chocolate and a bag with a blueberry muffin.
I don’t want a hot chocolate. I need coffee. I have a meeting later.
As if hearing that tiny thought, Danny smiled mischievously to him and waved as he took his food and left. “It’s not about what you want; it’s about what you need! You’re gonna crush that meeting either way. See you next time, Tim!”
The itching got worse.
He felt his neck hairs raise again as the bell chimed, announcing his departure. Stepping back into the hustle and bustle of Gotham shocked him, and he had to wander over to a bench to sit for a moment.
He stared at the cup in his hands. T I M was written, with shitty little stars drawn all around. This drink was special, he somehow knew. If he drank from this, something in him would change forever. It already had, but this drink was important. He considered, briefly, about not drinking it. About tossing the cocoa and muffin away. Something wiggled at him to go through with it.
But Danny said he needed this.
Danny was always right.
He sipped the cocoa, letting the hot liquid settle into his body and soul. It eased aches and pains he didn’t remember getting, and he sighed, closing his eyes. He lost himself to the moment of peace the drink gave him.
If this wasn’t his twelfth visit, or if he’d waited a day to visit the coffee shop and come with the Laughing Magician instead, the boy on the bench would still know what his own name looked like. He would know what it sounded like. He wouldn’t be glowing and growing feathers, turning into something other than human.
But now the deed was done, and the heir to the Drake family belonged to Danny Phantom, the newest Lord to join Gotham’s magical courts.
Danny is a Fae at Starbucks
So! Danny works by Fae Rules, Names and all, but he has no idea about that because he was forced to run away from Home (and the Ghost portal) before his Ghostly Education could be completed.
He runs to Gotham and eventually gets a job at Starbucks, or some other Cafe.
He has to ask the question "Could I get your name please?" A LOT while working there. And unintentionally steals hundreds of Names by the end of his first day, much less a week or a month into his job.
One day, Constantine visits Gotham for a Meeting with Batman, but by the time he gets to the Meeting Point he has bigger issues to discuss.
"Why the hell does half of your City belong to a Fae Lord?!"
#DPxDC#pondhead writes#I don’t plan on continuing this so feel free to pick it up#I just got super inspired#the idea is that Danny got a job working the register at Starbucks like the prompt says#and every time he takes someone’s name he gains more power over them until their 12th visit#when they become his completely#he is not aware of this#and is just pleased to find out he settled in a neighborhood full of ghosts and magical beings#he doesn’t know that he’s causing the transformation of half the city#or that due to his subconscious demands of ‘ignore me and anything weird you see’#everyone forgets the name of the shop he works at and no one mentions anything about the magic#he’s literally just excited to be there#and happy that all these people feel at ease enough around ghost to let go of their disguises while they’re in his shop#(the closer people are to him the more the inhuman features show up)#people cross the doorway and Know Something Is Wrong but the magic in the shop eases them out of the fear so it’s a weird experience#after his 12th visit Tim goes about his day like normal but literally does not respond to anything with Tim in it#Timmers? nope. Timbo? nada. Timothy? who’s that?#it’s Mr. Drake or Mr. Drake-Wayne or Red Robin that is it#he legit just does not remember his name#Tim KNOWS about the name Timothy and has no issue saying it when addressing others#But He Is Not Timothy What The Fuck Are You On Bruce#Constantine basically screams as soon as he sees Tim and tries to figure out what he did.#Tim while eating the muffin: you’ve gone senile in your old age my dude#Constantine: you’re literally eating fae food TELL ME WHERE YOU GOT IT PLEASE THIS IS BAD FOR YOU#Tim washing it down with his cocoa: eat shit and die. if Danny wanted you to have some you’d get some#Constantine: WHO THE FUCK IS DANNY??#if you noticed I stopped using Tim’s name halfway through you get a cookie
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muntitled · 3 months ago
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Sweet Hearts
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♡ Mark Lee x afab!reader
♡ Summary: Nothing could sway you from finding your producer attractive and you were okay with that fact...Before you knew it, every recording session was filled with stolen kisses that bled into fiery make-out sessions.
♡ Warnings: Language, Producer!Mark, Idol!Reader, Forbidden Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Mutual Pining, Humor Overworked Losers In Love, Smut (+18) Dom!Mark, Brat Taming, Minors DNI, Massive, Praise Kink, Slight Exhibitionist!Kink, Dirty Talk, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mark,
RAHHH, kinda feral writing this, I'm sorry
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From the moment you established yourself in the industry, you had been quite comfortable viewing yourself as an independent career woman, thank you very much. Many men had tried and failed to sway you from the retches of your passion projects respectively. Hyuck being onesuch romantic endevour that had failed to shine in the shadow of your work. You had tried to make it work. You really did.
No amount of dick could keep you away from the studio. It was your hapoy place: nestled in a stuffy booth with your notepad opened on your lap filpped with slightly manic notes and lyrics.
No one, before Mark had ever seemed to share that sentiment.
"I'm a busy girl," your words barely left your mouth before being kissed away by Mark's eager lips. He was panting heavily. You both were, as he pressed you up against the wall of some record exec's boardroom. He swiped your braids out of the way, to better reach the expanse of skin by your neck. Both of you pawing at each other's clothes. Both of you overflowing with yearning.
"I'm a busy dude," he whispered back. "We don't have to turn this into anything serious, Sweetheart..." Mark's thumb was rubbing tentatively at your soft hips, as if waiting for the go ahead before he ravished you.
You had both decided this secrecy was enough. You and Mark perused the halls of your record company, greeting amicably as if you hadn't felt his hands around your throat.
He had kissed and kissed and kissed you, until someone inevitably walked by.
You had never met anyone as sonically obsessed as you are, until you were acquainted with Mark. He, would quickly become not only your incredibly talented and driven producer but also a friend with added benefits.
Before you knew it, every recording session was filled with stolen kisses that bled into passionate make-out sessions. You were developing a frankly perplexing habit of overanalyzing how attractive he looked when he runs his hand through his hair during spells of frustration- or when he got the incomparable burst of genius to freestyle over a beat as if it was a long lost friend. Nothing could sway you from finding your producer attractive and you were okay with that fact...
You couldn't retain satisfactory orgasms from your music alone, could you? You weren't inhumane... you needed a companion.
"I just want you..."
And he had you.
So badly it was beginning to mess with your concentration.
"Alright, let's run it from the top-"
It's not everyday a girl falls helplessly in love with her producer.
"Yo, you good?" Mark's voice sounds from the intercom, dragging your eye from your notebook up towards the two men on the other side of the sound glass.
"From the top?!" Haechan cries incredulously. Without looking at him, Mark nods. Wholly unimpressed by Donghyuck's whining. "I think the song's fine," Hyuck runs a hand through his hair. His large feet stomp on the carpeted floors and you fight off a grin.
Mark scoffs in that way that only Haechan gets him to do and you suck on the straw of your mocha from inside the booth. Your disposition screaming, 'the girls are fighting.'
"Yeah you would think the song's fine," Mark before he rolls his eyes, Hyuck petulantly screams, "What's that supposed to mean!?"
"She clearly wants us to carry on," your teeth clench down on your straw as you're ripped into the middle of their argument.
"Do you want us to carry on?" Mark asks and your throat goes dry. Behind him, Haechan's palms are clutched together as he mouths 'Please, no, please!'
"I-"
You were at a crossroads.
The urge to people please was gnawing at your insides as your eyes drifted from Haechan, a vocal coach you loved and adored and Mark, a producer you'd just started working with...
The urge to give into them both was hanging heavily on you.
"Remember, Sweetheart, it's okay," Mark's voice sounds from the speaker, eliciting a wave of... something you're not quite sure of yet.
A crush... perhaps.
"I would..." You clear your throat, swing Haechan's eyes, "I would feel better if we polished some things up,"
Mark nods along, a small smile tugging at his lips. A look of betrayal on Hyuck's face.
You knew perfectly well that the song was fine, better than fine, actually. The only thing stopping you from leaving the studio was the boring life that awaited you. Your boring apartment with your boring cat (whom you loved dearly). Everything beyond these four walls was as monotonous as the day is long. No one waited for you out there.
In here though...
"Okay, yeah, no. I can't do this," You watch Haechan gather his belongings with incredulous eyes.
"You're abandoning me? We haven't even gotten to the chorus and you're abandoning me."
Haechan's hair is in complete disarray as he types hurriedly on his phone and you're left to watch from inside the booth. "While you re-record and re-record an already perfect record, my stomach has growled 5 times-"
You roll your eyes, "Haechan, food is for the weak. We can do this."
"I can't," He shook his head, evading eye contact as he pulled on his letterman jacket, effectively stowing away hi will to work and be persuaded to work.
"Let him leave." There's something in Mark's tone to suggest you quit trying to persuade Haechan.
"You psychos can overwork yourselves together."
When Haechan left, he took with him, a sense of platonic ease. Here, with Mark staring directly at you, his presence was stifling.
~
There aren't any actual windows in here... if it weren't for a quick glance af your phone, you would've never known night has already fallen.
"What would really be hot is if you added the last word of the verse, ad libitum. So if you said 'takeoff' but with like a lower pitch in between the chorus and the second verse. I think that would be great," You realize you had taken to swaying in one spot and quickly corrected yourself as you placed your hands on your headphones and nodded, vaguely agreeing but never really hearing anything after the words 'great'. Hearing anything falling from Mark's plump lips at this very moment would send your imagination hurtling into the fiery pits of hell. Him, staring at you so intensely through the glass and behind the soundboard left you unable to focus.
"Sweetheart?" He says, with a finger on the intercom. "Do you get me? If you do, I'm gonna need to hear you use your words, okay?" With his eyes fixed solely on you, waiting patiently for your compliance, you are convinced he was literally and figuratively trying to kill you.
"Sorry," You say, trying to dispute how heavily his words weighed down on you, "I'm thinking about all the babies that die in between you purposely using the words ad libitum instead of just saying ad lib." Saving yourself with swift and easy rebuttal had always been a specialty...
"Sorry, sorry!" Said Mark, "I'll stop with the annoying producer talk," he rolls his eyes behind the glass of his thick-rimmed glasses.
"Dont stop," You find yourself saying, "Its hot.
Seconds pass with Mark's index finger tapping away at the soundboard.
"Continue."
But it was incredibly difficult to continue with your mind and all its unsavory thoughts seeping out of your skull and straight into your lyrics. Perhaps working on the more explicit songs with Mark had been an utterly dire decision, one that practically solidified your downfall.
As you rattle through the dirty lyrics, you make sure to keep a firm gaze on him. Mark maintains eye contact from behind the glass, giving nothing away under his black cap, clad in his short sleeve black shirt and his all black attire.
The dimness of the studio suddenly feels too dim.
This 'mood' that Mark had strived to create in the peroration of your session is suddenly working too well.
Soon, the track is being replaced by Mark's slightly gruff voice echoing in your headphones.
"Sorry to cut you off, Sweetheart," The coolness with which he utters the nickname releases a wave of arousal in your core, and you inadvertently take a seat on the stool closest to you, subtly crossing your legs in front of you.
"I just want you to take note of something for me real quick..." for a moment you’re only nodding slowly, waiting for him to continue but he never does. Mark sits silently staring at you with yet another earth shattering, unwavering gaze. You're confused, which Mark would have found incredibly adorable if you weren't actively being such a brat.
"I said take note of something for me, please." He finally lifts his hand, making vague scribbles into the air.
"Mark. You want me to actually write this down?" He only responds with a succinct, I-dare-you-to-argue-with-me "Please."
You make a petulant display of rolling your eyes. His chuckles bleed into your headphones, disrupting your nonverbal tantrum when he says, "You really are trying it today..."
"Maybe if I had someone to correct this attitude, we wouldn't have found ourselves here, would we?" You mutter the sentence as you're staring into you notepad, completely evading his heated gaze. Silence grows pregnant between the two of you before Mark continues, completely choosing to ignore you.
"I'd like you to take note of the brisk allegro that erupts in the pre-chorus," He spins his pen between his fingers as he reads from his own notes. He looks absolutely worn out and so unmistakably beautiful it makes you want to scream.
"I think that part in particular might be vital in solidifying the overall kick of the actual chorus." Not to mention, seeing him in work mode tickled your ovaries in ways you could never have foreseen. In the studio, you had always been the one wading through the laziness of others, picking up the slack where needed and making it your obligation to ignite your producers with the zeal to work with your meticulous ass. But Mark had turned the tables and for the very first time you find yourself unable to think about work.
"Mark," You send him a bored expression, "I literally make slut music, do you really need to be calling it an allegro?"
He is quick in pressing the intercom to clap back, "Slut music deserves a well mastered allegro too, don't you think?" You're only left to slump your shoulders as he continues.
By this point, you know that he knows exactly what you want for him.
Why you're being particularly difficult to work with.
Why you were fighting him on every term but for some unexplainable reason, he's keeping you from it.
"It's good but I feel like we need a pure unprocessed sound... the song sounds too wet, I dunno,"
You inhale sharply, raising a finger into the air, to which, Mark completely ignores you, keeping his eyes on his notes, his brown locks brushing along his eyes.
"And if you're gonna say 'I could tell you something else that's wet' don't bother, because you'll only get muted."
Your shoulders once again sag and you find yourself audibly whimpering into the mic. That quickly catches Mark's attention, and you're left wading in the scrutiniy of his gaze.
"Fuck, I cant work with you like this." He rakes his fingers through his hair, forcing you to rub your exposed thighs under your miniskirt together for the umpteenth time. "Tell me what you need."
"You know what I need..."
He curses under his breath before sending a worried gaze over his shoulder and you realize you have won. It was custom for Mark to send a worried gaze over his shoulder at the door, as if terrified that Hyuck might storm into the studio, face crimson and finding his best friend not only fucking the object of his interest but dominating her.
"I think you need it too." You're quite literally the snake tempting Eve in the garden and he sends another helpless glance at the door before complying.
"A-Alright. Come out here for me real quick," this is what excited you most about Mark. Hearing the trepidation in his voice mixed with Mark's innate nervousness made you dizzy with desire. His anxiety yet still a need to be dominant... it drove you wild.
"Where is this attitude coming from?" He asks, once you appear by his side, inching towards him as if terrified by your own creation. He does not bother to get up, does not bother to tell you stand in front of him, in between his legs. You just do.
It's as if he's saying 'Do what you want. You're your own person.' Knowing full well how effortlessly you tended to submit to him.
"How wet are you?" He asks then, letting his hands graze your hips as you stand before him. His eyes squeezing shut as he rests his head on your abdomen. Your hands come up to pat down at his hair. Overgrown and brown.
"Why don't you find out?"
Mark is slow to closing the notebook on his lap and putting it vaguely near the soundboard without ever taking his eyes off You.
You can see the dark half moons underneath his eyes, stabbing at, not only your arousal, but your innate need to just take care of him. His eyes remain focused on you as he moves to clamp his hand on your exposed thigh, watching your lips part ever so slightly.
"Consider this a brief, very brief recess."
"Yes sir," You had intended for the words to come off more teasingly than it actually did, but it runs straight through to Mark's dick and he's removing his hands from your skin like you have mustered the ability to spontaneously catch on fire.
"Fuck," he replies, sending one more gaze at the door before looking at you once more. With a shaky breath escaping through his lips, he looks utterly wrecked and completely conflicted. You let him wade through the motions without any input.
You just stand there, waiting patiently for his next command.
Mark sits back in his seat, running both hands down his face before saying, "Fuck, alright. Take your underwear off for me..." You speedily oblige as your hands delve underneath your denim skirt. Mark watches with bated breath and clenched teeth as he rubs his fingers along his lips like he's thinking very deep and very hard about something. You hook your fingers into the sides of your pink laced panties, slowly dragging them down as you and Mark both watch each other with steel gazes.
"Keep the skirt on," His resolve melts, his sight set on your ruined underwear. He notices far too quickly that it's his favorite pair, eliciting another wavering breath from him as his other hand clamps around your thigh to pull you impossibly closer.
"You planned this, didn't you?" You can feel the warmth of his shallow breathing as he places his forehead on your abdomen, while he brings his fingers up to your lips.
"Open your mouth for me..." You automatically obey, bringing your mouth around his middle and index fingers. For a short while, his face remains hidden in your dress as you suck, almost petulantly on his fingers. Perhaps he feels a mixture of shame for enjoying this entire scene far too much and soon, he feels he has to peel his face away from your dress to watch you suck so prettily on his fingers.
"F-fuck, baby," His voice is strained between a mixture of a coo and a moan as he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, almost immediately delving underneath your skirt, slotting them inside your drenched cunt. He is utterly ruthless as he sits on the edge of his seat, one hand claimed around your thigh as his fingers fuck in and out of you with absolute vigor. The man is utterly overcome with lust, sporting his own hard on in his joggers as he looks up at you, "Come on, baby... tell me you feel good, you know you want to."
His voice is dripping sex and your mind is completely blown with pleasure as you throw your head back. It is a mystery how you're still standing, but Mark's grip on your hip is concrete.
"Oh God- your fingers feels so good inside me, Fuck." He rewards you by letting his fingers drift over your swollen clit, racking another torrid moan from your throat as he begins to circle it with purpose. You clamp your head against Mark's hunched shoulders, his face once again buried in your dress.
"I just need'a take care or my little angel, don't I?" He's an incoherent, mumbling mess, his words as sloppy as the hands sliding against your clit, "But she makes it difficult when she's being a stuck up little brat," Your head is still craned back while his face is buried against your abdomen and it is as if you both cannot stand to truly see yourselves in such a depraved, animalistic state.
"You're squeezing my fingers baby- Fuck, is this how bad you needed me?" Mark finally cranes back to look up at you. His cheeks are ruddy and his hooded eyes are blown into saucers, "It's so fucking distracting having you so close to me." Your hips cant against his hands until soon, your legs begin to quiver. Mark brings his arm around your waist, forcing you to stand and take everything he gives you.
"You know when you're really needy like this, all you have to do is ask, baby. You know I love taking care of my baby, don't you?" You nearly cum then and there.
"Please Markie-"
"F-Fuck I didn't plan on fucking you today, least of all here. But I really need you right now, alright, pretty girl?" Your body shudders at the lost of his fingers inside you, one more flick against your clit and you would have came all over his fingers.
"Bend over for me, yeah? Mind the sound board." Mark finally rises from his chair, immediately cupping your face with his hands as he bows his head down to you, "I just wanna feel my baby girl squirm around me-" that particular string of words has you whimpering incoherently as Mark crowds behind you, pushing you up against the desk. Your hands grip the edge, careful not to temper with any sonic equipment as Mark raises your skirt lightly. His hand grazes your bare ass and you're sent reeling as your own anxieties begin to set in. You're made strikingly aware that you had never actually had sex in the studio. Lightly touching and horny pawing at each other is the most that has ever been achieved within these four walls but going all the way...
"Daddy- I m-mean, Mark, can we-"
"Shh- it's okay." He says, as if reading your thoughts, "It's totally fine, barely anyone's here. They all left-" while he coos in your ear, you feel Mark lightly push you over the desk before lifting your skirt. He tries to brush over the 'daddy' thing for the sake of your own pride but he can't help the way his cock twitched at your slip of the tongue.
"Holy fucking shit." His curses bring your mind to unholy places, being someone that rarely ever swears. Mark is absolutely far gone as he is quick to bring his cock out of his sweat pants and ease into you without a second thought.
"I need you to call me daddy again." He admits as he begins fucking you with absolute fervour. His hand is on your hip, forcing you to take each and every bit of him.
"F-fuck," is all you're able to say as he bottoms out inside of you. Your walls contract around him, stopping him for pulling out too far, and only swallowing him deeper until the head of his cock is pushing up against a bundle of sensitive nerves. You're left to squeeze your own breasts as Mark fucks you from behind, lost in the haze of chasing his own orgasm.
"Baby, if you want me to cum quick enough I need you to call me Daddy in that sexy fucking voice of yours. Tell me how good I make you feel."
"F-Fuck daddy you make me feel s-so"
"F-Fuck, I'm not gonna last long-" He warns.
You'repanting, as Mark begins to rut against you with little to no more constraint.
"No one slese can make you feel this good, baby?" His eyes are half crescents as he says, "Tell me you love me baby,"
"I love you, daddy- I fucking need you-"
Oh-fuck I'm going to c-cum" He exclaims, eyes squeezed shut before forcing them open.
"Oh-god, oh fuck,"
His orgasm, sparks your own. Mark hisses as he drags his cock out of your cunt before spilling his seed all over your ass. He's shaking so bad, some even reaches your skirt but he's too far gone to care.
Soon, your orgasm blazes through you like a million suns burning in your core all at once. Mark is absolutely enamored. "Back to work."
"Mark- my underwear."
"Just..." he sughs, his lips pressing against your cheek in a lingering kiss, "Get back in the booth."
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jinxyjinxer · 1 month ago
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˗ˏˋ MEAN ˎˊ˗ torturing you is their hobby
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⟢ characters : Ambessa Medarda, Sevika
⟢ warnings : fem!reader, wlw, mean!dom!characters (seperate), implied fingering, implied squirting, mommy kink, use of vibrator, passing out, strap-on, usage of whore, degrading, choking, strap gets referred to as dick
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˗ˏˋ AMBESSA MEDARDA ˎˊ˗
"You didn't really think I'd be done with you after you only came once, now did you?", she snickered when she saw you flinch and try to inch away from her calloused fingers after pounding them into your core once again after having made you cum on her digits for the first time of the night.
"Oh, baby girl, don't fight against it. The more you try to get away, the more I just enjoy all of this even more. Be my good girl and let mommy take care of you", she mused, but her words fell onto deaf ears. One orgasm alone had you overstimulated like a dozen would, so naturally you took her large wrist into your much smaller palm, trying to push her hand away from your sensitive mounds.
Even when she told you to stop squirming so much, you didn't even consider letting her have her way for even a second. Everything was too much, your body and sheets were already a mess soaked with your squirt and sweat, you didn't think you could take another orgasm again.
"That's it. You want me to be mean? Then I'll be mean", she suddenly snapped from your antics, lifting you up effortlessly with her immense strength and placing you across her lap as she sat down on the edge of the bed. With one hand she held both of your wrists behind your back while the other one grabbed for something in a box under the bed — a vibrator.
Needless to say that for the next the gods know how long you've been held in this position, your clit getting stimulated by the vibrating toy, crying and begging for her to have mercy on you until you finally passed out from exhaustion. "At least you're compliant now."
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˗ˏˋ SEVIKA ˎˊ˗
"Please, no! I'm so sorry Sevi-!", you tried to apologise to your girlfriend when you found yourself getting dragged into your shared room, getting put onto all fours, hands and legs soon tied together so you couldn't move at all before felling her slam the biggest strap on she could find into your unprepared cunt, making you cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain.
"You should have thought about disrespecting me before begging for my forgiveness", she grunted as she dragged the silicone toy out of your cunt only to thrust it into you again with a brutal, almost inhuman force, her anger with you evident in her voice as well as her movements as she continued penetrating the life out of you.
"Sevika please this, Sevika please that", she mocked you, imitating your voice as she did so. "Just shut the fuck up and take your punishment like the fucking whore you are", she growled, and at the same time the tip of the toy hit your cervix brutally, making you scream her name for everyone in all of Zaun to hear.
One of her large hands loosened its grip to instead take a fist full of your hair between her fingers, pulling harshly on your scalp so you'd arch your back nicely for her to ravage you like an animal. Her other hand now found its way around your neck, at first only stroking your skin and making your breath hitch in anticipation before her fingers closed around your throat, restricting the air flowing into your lungs, your mind soon getting all foggy.
"You've got two options now. Either you pass out or you'll cream around this dick like the fucking whore you are. Only once you've come for me, I am willing to maybe forgive you", she whispered into your ear, the sensation of the strap penetrating your deepest insides and her hand choking you mixed with her voice in your ear making you come on the spot.
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lovegasmic · 6 months ago
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MY STRANGE ADDICTION
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──── . curse!toji fushiguro + sorcerer fem!reader  
 𝜗𝜚 mdni◞ slight dub con just at the beginning ◞ handcuffed sex◞ breeding kink◞ mild pussy slapping ◞ name calling : slut ◞ petnames: princess, angel , good girl. rewritten and reposted . ★ taglist
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“I will be alright”
you had grinned at Nanami that one afternoon, his usual calm face held a slightly concerned look, surprisingly still present on even though you were already miles away from where goodbyes were exchanged.
“it's a low rank curse, it should be fine”
but it really wasn’t.
the report mentioned some passersby’s warning over a strange metal clanking sound in a nearby abandoned building, —nothing out of the ordinary really, adding to the faint, almost imperceptible cursed energy found in the surroundings everyone agreed it was some low rank curse doings.
yet an eerie feeling was palpable left and right, coldness digging deep into your bones and making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.
much against your initial perception, the curse didn’t attack, and instead, it cornered you into a windowless floor, much obviously the building was still on construction due to it’s bare walls and floors where it hid in the dark, like a predator hunting its prey, and much to your disadvantage, you were the latter.
the rapid and loud thumping of your heart rang in your ears, slightly muffling the startling voice the curse held, although you didn’t expect for it’s first words to be “you’re way too pretty to be a sorcerer”
“huh?!” jaw slack —from what it seemed— he, chuckled at your body’s automatic response, feeling your stomach drop at the deep and manly voice resonating through the walls and hallways.
you swallow hard “what the fuck does that mean?”
the curse laughed again, shifting in his place to take a step, two steps closer to the moonlight light coming from the wall opening and reflecting on the floor, one that barely got to show a portion of his shadow.
“what i’m saying is...” the voice came from your back, startling you enough to steal a gasp before it moved again, “...I would hate for a pretty thing like you to get killed so easily”
“if someone is dying today, that's you” you spoke, fake confidence helping you cope with what could possibly be your imminent death. this curse wasn’t one to mess with, you were certain.
“hm?” he smirks, “why don’t we test that out?” he whispers in your ear, and a second later, you’re on the floor, not giving you time to react to the inhuman speed the curse possessed, will definitely sport a couple of bruises later on from the hit and a makeshift handcuff that held onto your wrist, it’s coldness and weight reminding you of metallic chains.
“let me go” you grit, and much to your disgust, your mouth going dry the moment the curse got into the light didn’t help, hating to admit a slight throb in your pussy —and shoulders, due to the awkward position, laying barely propped up by your elbows.
he was terribly hot, dark tight shirt clinging on his broad chest and disappearing underneath gray joggers that only fueled your dirty thoughts.
“stop squirming, you have nowhere to go right now” his laugh echoes as loud as his shoes click right before your pity form, coming to your height dark pupils, almost fully engulfing the color of his irises and matching messy hair falling on them.
you had to earn time, strike a stupid conversation or anything that could win you some time until anyone came to your rescue after noticing the long absence, but the man smirked down at you in such a mischievous way you couldn’t help and try to push on his chest, screaming internally when the tall wall of muscle didn’t even budge, and instead, wrapped his fingers around your ankle.
“don’t touch me!” you half shout, both at the surprise of his movements, and the slight shiver engulfing your body from the calloused fingertips coming in contact with the bare skin right here your pants raised.
there’s a tsk coming from his lips right before sliding his huge hand across your leg, slowly enough for you to stop him, yet your body remained still, frozen against the cold marble floor.
“you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
he whispers in your ear, leaning close enough into your ear until nothing but a breeze could separate his lips from your skin.
“fuck you” you hiss, empty words not matching the way you pliantly let the man, curse, touch you, both hands resting on your thighs, your waist, snaking a single thumb across the side of your covered breasts that rise and fall with each harsh breathing.
“that’s what I plan on doing”
for the second time in the night, your head fogs at the sudden movement, knees landing roughly on the floor with a pained gasp as you stare into the wall, your back arched in a very, suggestive way towards the man.
“i bet you’re fucking wet” he chuckles, “what a slut, in this situation, really?, do you not get fucked well enough?”
lips part to talk back, anger and embarrassment burning on your face, but the fact was undeniable, now obvious to him since his rough fingertips came in contact with the crotch of your elastic pants, rubbing across your slit through the fabric, rough enough for your growing wetness to seep towards the exterior.
“fuck— naughty girl” he is very much enjoying this, palming his already hard cock through the loose fabric of his own pants. “gonna take care of you, princess, fuck you nice and good til’ that pretty head of yours goes dumb”
it’s involuntary the moan that escapes your lips, suddenly losing balance until your cheek is pressed against the cold floor. a lewd sight of your willing body all pliant for him.
“name’s Toji” he huffs, leaving a single sharp slap on your ass before shredding the cloth down along your drenched panties, enough for his thighs to come between yours and stretch them, leaving your pussy to his lustful gaze, “remember the name you’ll be screaming tonight”
the curse, or now, Toji’s words are remarked with a couple soft slaps on your throbbing clit with the tip of his cock, making your thighs twitch and whimpers escape at the sensation and disgustingly nasty sound of creamy wetness sticking.
he’s big. incredibly big and stretching you so well your breath comes out unsteady and erratic, nails digging against your own palms as to conceal the pleasure you’re currently feeling, something no one has ever made you feel before.
“T-toji...” you whine for the first time, deep down loving how his name felt on your lips.
“that’s right” he grunts, slowly but steadily feeding your cunt the rest of his fat cock, his own breathing coming in stuttered huffs with how tight you felt, “you’re squeezing me so fuckin’ much, you just needed a fat cock to satisfy you, isn’t that right, angel?”
“ha— ngh!” you sob, toes curling in your shoes when his heavy balls kiss your clit, and then he’s fucking you with abandon, holding onto one of your shoulders to pull your upper body up, forcing you to meet his thrusts that almost knock the air out of your lungs.
“good fuckin’ girl” Toji’s laugh resonates through the empty concrete floor, mingling alongside the wet sound your slapping flesh, it’s dark and dangerous, but still makes your cunt flutter, “do you like how I ruin your unprotected human pussy?”
for a second, your eyes cross, brain shuts and opts not to reply, deciding to keep at least a bit of dignity instead of babbling a cockdrunken nonsense that would have seeped out due to Toji’s cock continuously slamming against your sweet spot, forcing waves of slick to drool out of your slit and stain your thighs and floor, mixed with the creamy precum coating your sensitive walls.
“answer me, darling” a rough hand comes to cup your jaw, forcing your head up until his lips ghost over the skin of your cheek, hips rutting into your slit and forcing his length a bit deeper into your abused pussy.
"y-yes!, feels so good" you stutter, eyes rolled back and hair clinging to every corner of your forehead, unaware of the movement of your own hips in an attempt to fuck yourself back on him.
“good girl” Toji leaves a single chaste kiss on your cheek, taking his previous position, although this time he forces your waist to arch deeper, almost mounting you before resuming his thrusts, “gonna show you how I breed pretty girls like you”
you whimper his name in approval, completely gone while letting him use you, positively drooling onto the floor and making a mess like he’s doing with your cunt.
with a choked out sob, you cream all over his length, shaking and crying while clinging to the chains around your wrists, yet he didn’t stop, fucking the white ring of cum back into your drenched pussy.
he’s forcing your ass cheeks open, aiming for your cervix before filling your hole with thick cum that comes out with a grunt and a groan, hips rolling, grinding and forcing you to milk that load out of his tip.
you know for a fact, that after that night, you became utterly ruined for any other man. since no one could ever fuck you like the curse you were supposed to exorcise.
he leaves a sharp slap on your overflowing pussy, loud and wet enough for your mixed fluids to splatter, right on time before hearing footsteps on the first floor of the building, —perhaps your reinforcements that might take a while to reach the high floor you were currently at. and then he’s quick on his feet, untangling your bound hands while chuckling at the yelp and beautiful sight of his cum oozing from your hole.
“if you want another load, you know where to find me”
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thstarsofsilver · 2 years ago
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i think about this interaction daily. my favourite ny boys <3
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CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR 2016 | dir. Joe Russo, Anthony Russo
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natalievoncatte · 4 days ago
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There was someone in her penthouse.
Lena paused at the door, listening. The short hairs on the back of her neck stood up, a tingling sensation running down her spine. She wasn’t sure what tipped her off, but after the fifth kidnapping and three or four attempted murders in her own spaces -office, lab, here- she always listened to those instincts. Kara never complained if it was a false alarm when Lena activated her signal watch.
Her thumb hovered over the button. She took another step inside and the door latched behind her. She was about to press when Kara said,
“Please don’t press that.”
Something was off. Her voice was raspy, as though she had a sore throat, and oddly distorted. It was as if she spoke through a damaged speaker. Lena edged from the foyer into the kitchen, her heart still pounding.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
Kara was standing in the living room in her super suit, or so Lena thought. Her cape was there, but the silhouette was different. Lena reached for the light switch and again Kara spoke.
“Don’t. Please.”
“Kara?”
“I’m not your Kara. I’m just… passing through.”
“Passing through my penthouse?”
Lena ran her thumb around the button, ready to press.
“Are you together in this world?”
Lena froze. The figure in her living room, Kara-but-not, was holding the framed photo of Lena with Kara smiling together, the one she’d once shattered. Kara had bought her a new frame for it when they were healing, still working out who they were going to be together, if their friendship could survive with a foundation that had so profoundly crumbled.
The glint caught Lena’s eye. One of Kara’s hands. At first she thought it was a medal glove but that wasn’t right. The shape was wrong, the fingers too thin, skeletal and claw-like. As her eyes adjusted, Lena could pick out more details.
Good God. The whole side of her face was missing, rebuilt into something inhuman and skeletal. A faint emerald glow from her chest and eye cast a pallid light across the living room.
“She’s my best friend,” said Lena.
“Best friend,” the creature whispered, her voice even harsher and more distorted.
“What do you want?”
“I told you, I’m passing through. I won’t be here long. But… can I look at you?”
“Look at me? I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
“Just let me look at you and I’ll go. Promise me you won’t scream or call me a monster.”
Lena swallowed hard.
“Should I turn on the light?”
“I would rather you didn’t.”
“Alright, then.”
The figure slowly replaced the photograph and turned, moving towards Lena. She limped, just a little, left foot dragging. Lena gasped.
It was Kara, but not. She had been… mutilated was the only word Lena could find for it. Half her face, her right arm, her leg, and worst of all, a gaping hole in her chest that contained a chunk of vile green Kryptonite burning inside. Her skin was deathly pallid, almost blue, raked through with sickly green streaks surrounded by faint bruises, as if her blood itself was poisoning her.
“My God,” Lena breathed.
“You’re so beautiful,” Kara said, her remaining eye so full of sadness and regret that Lena felt tears welling in her own.
When Kara wept in return, she wept verdant blood. She drew closer, and Lena stood stock still as Kara pressed a corpse-cold palm to her cheek.
“It’s been so long since I heard your heartbeat,” she said. “Thank you.”
“W-what happened to you?”
“Your brother, what else? He impaled me with a Kryptonite harpoon. You saved me. It’s almost funny. The Metallo Protocol kept me alive. If you can call this living.”
“I’m so sorry,” Lena whispered. “Can I help you? Is there something I could do?”
Kara shook her head, mechanical joints in her neck grinding. “There’s no cure for death, zhao.”
Lena blinked. Zhao? Was that Kryptonian? She wasn’t sure what it meant.
The cold palm fell away from her cheek.
“There must be some way I can help,” said Lena.
“In my world I killed your brother,” said Kara.
“In this world, I did. For her.”
“She loves you.”
Lena flinched. It felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her and her legs went weak. She had to steady herself on the kitchen island.
“What?”
“Kara. She loves you.”
“How… why do you say that?”
“I have visited thousands of worlds. Thousands of timelines. There are many where you don’t even exist, where I don’t. But in all the ones I’ve found with the both of us, there is one constant: Kara Zor-El loves Lena Luthor. It’s inevitable, it’s like gravity. There is something in all of me that must love you.”
“You’re traveling across dimensions?”
She nodded, closing her one eye. “I’m searching. Before I killed Lex, he used his masterstroke against me. He couldn’t kill me, so he hit me where he could do the most damage. He sent Lena to the Phantom Zone before I ripped his heart out of his chest. Then something happened… the yellow aliens told me there was a crisis, a multiversal collapse that split the phantom zone into infinite shards.”
“Yes, the Crisis, but there should be only one Earth now. Your world should have been merged with ours.”
Kara sighed, a broken, pained rasp. “What happens when you subtract infinity from infinity?”
Lena frowned. “I see.”
“I know she’s out there. I can feel her. I thought your world might be the one, but there’s another me here, and the wrong you.”
“I hope you find her.”
“Thank you. May I ask you something?”
“Go ahead” said Lena.
“Do you love her?”
Lena didn’t need to ask who she meant. She felt a lump form in her throat even as her chest fluttered. This cold broken wreckage of another Kara stared into her as if to parse the strands of her soul.
“Yes,” said Lena.
Kara edged closer. “Then tell her. Please. Don’t make her wait. She’s too scared to tell you. She’s like all of us- she’s so afraid of her own strength that she won’t hold anyone truly close for fear she’ll crush them. She’s afraid of losing you, or losing you again. She’s lost everything. Her world, her people, her culture, two mothers and two fathers- there is so much grief in her that it could freeze a newborn star but you, you are the light that shines in the darkness. You are her red sunrise.”
Lena said nothing, fighting the tremble in her lip.
“I must go. She’s out there and I have to keep trying to find her.”
She turned away and Lena caught her arm, gently tugging. She stopped.
“Wait?”
Kara turned back to her, and Lena darted in close and pressed a soft kiss to her cold lips.
“What?” Kara blurted.
“For luck. You’re going to find her.”
“I wish I had your faith.”
Lena now pressed a palm to Kara’s cheek.
“You will. You’re Supergirl. You can do anything.”
Kara smiled with half a face and pulled free, activating a device on her belt. A portal opened before her, filling the penthouse with blazing light. She stepped through and was gone.
Lena stumbled to the sofa and collapsed onto it, hugging herself as the tears flowed.
A few moments later, the familiar sound of stacked heels thudded on her balcony and the door slid open.
Kara, her Kara, swept into the penthouse, frantic.
“Lena, what happened? I saw that flash. I was out on patrol and… are you crying?”
Kara knelt beside her and brushed her hair back from her eyes with her soft warm hand and said, “Baby, are you okay?”
Lena looked at her, really looked at her, and was simply overwhelmed. There was so much depth in her blue eyes, so much kindness and compassion and love.
“I am now,” said Lena.
Kara blinked a few times. “I don’t understand. What happened?”
“I promise I’m tell you someday, but first I have to ask you something.”
“Ask,” said Kara. “Anything you want, you know that.”
Lena curled a finger around Kara’s chin and watched her eyes widen, first in confusion and then in nervous anticipation as Lena bent towards her and tilted her head just slightly to press their lips together.
At first Kara didn’t react and Lena thought she’d made a terrible mistake, but then something in Kara came around and she lunged onto the couch, pressing Lena down to the cushions.
“Lena,” Kara breathed. “What… how… do you… with me?”
Lena hugged her fiercely.
“Stay with me, Kara. That’s what I want. Stay with me.”
“Always.”
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