#they did beard so dirty he deserved so much more than what he got

[toxicanonymity]

Collect calls. jailbird pt. 2 of 3

3600, cellmate's nephew!Joel x inmate f!reader

brilliant edit by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog. custom tats!

SUMMARY: You kinda try to be careful over the phone, but you want each other too bad. So it's hard. Rock hard. Joel sends you a short letter and comes to visit again. Follows Jailbird, but this is 69% dirty talk (I did the math). You can prob read alone. PT 3 of 3 is Parole. WARNINGS: I8+ SO HORNY, hella dirty talk from both, phone sex, mild degradation/teasing, tension, masturbation, Joel is a slut and mentions getting blown, creative mail. Barely edited horny chaos but I wanna feed ya and this ain't fine dining. A/N: Part 2 of 3. Thank you for the love on Jailbird! And THANK YOU @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for the amazing edit omg. Make sure you see the Jojo gif 🥵 His specific tattoos and all 😍 joel master list, @toxicfics for notifs. PART 3 HERE.

When you got back from visitation, your cellmate Mabel's face lit up.  She was excited to hear about it, but when she looked you over, she said, “Oh boy, it’s worse than I thought. . . I’m gonna go play spades, honey. You do what ya need to do.” 

You shook your head, “Mabel. . .”

“Take your time,” she said with a wink. "Not that you'll need it." Then she stood up and stretched before leaving the cell.  

You got in your bed, on your side, under the blanket. You clenched your thighs together looking at the picture of a slightly younger him with not nearly as much silver in his beard. You put your pillow between your legs, rolled over so you were mostly stomach-down, and your hips moved as you put your head in the crook of your arm and recalled the way he looked at you, his strong hands, his tattoos. His voice. You wondered what it sounded like when it wasn’t through a telephone, but god damn, it did something to you. “ain’t nothin’ harder than mine, baby.” Fuck. 

You were already getting close, wouldn’t even need to use your hand at this rate. You thought about the way his arm flexed as his hand moved in his lap. Oh God, the bulge and outline in his jeans when he stood up. The way he adjusted himself.  He might be too big for you to take all of him, but god damn, you'd give it your best shot. You rubbed yourself against your pillow to the rhythm of his hand rubbing his lap in your mind, clenched your thighs again and you came, whining "Jojo" into your elbow. You heard it too many times a day to get it out of your head – He told you to call him Joel, but Mabel made it somewhat difficult. 

---

He was hot as fuck, but it was also cute how close he and Mabel were. It made him seem like a good guy, even though neither of them were particularly upstanding members of society.  You supposed neither were you by most standards, but it’s not like any of you had ever intentionally hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. That you knew of.  The fact that Jojo served time was hot and also put you at ease. It had to have been a while based on the spiderweb, unless he was just trying to look hard, but he didn’t seem the type to bullshit anything. How did you even know what type he was though? You hardly knew  him? You dreaded Mabel’s teasing but you could withstand it in order to find out more.

You got off once more while you were at it, taking advantage of the privacy.  Then you sat up, rested against the wall, and just looked at the picture. Unfolded, you looked at both of them. It was so sweet. He looked happy. His hand on her shoulder had the spade tattoo.  Your eyes fell on your own poke-and-stick clover from Mabel and your stomach fluttered when you saw the flared stem and circular leaves. It might as well have been a Club.  “Mabel,” you muttered and shook your head.  

While she was still playing Spades, you went over to her bed to look at the other photos up close. In another picture, they were at a barbecue in a parking lot. Joel was on the left and Mabel was on the right. Joel was wearing a wifebeater and Mabel was wearing a black t-shirt with a carousel pony on the right pocket.  

You hadn’t noticed before, but there were a few women in swimsuits and aprons in the background. One of them was looking at Jojo. Who wouldn’t? Mabel’s words echoed in your mind — of course he’d like you. You’ve got a cunt and  you’re not bad lookin'. you rolled your eyes. Shit. You resolved to put yourself in pro mode and try to detach. 

—--

Over the next week, you spoke with him several times on the phone. You tried to be careful. You wren’t sure if all calls were reviewed or it was just by sample. You figured it would be suspicious to ask. You hoped whoever listened didn’t mind some harmless horny talk.  The only stuff they should really care about should be scheming. Like making moves and putting out hits from the inside. Or smuggling from the outside. 

—---

He answered the phone, “There she is.”  A vaguely endearing greeting since you and Mabel called from the same collect number. 

“Hey handsome,” you responded. 

“I was just thinkin’ about ya, jailbird.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” he said deeply then sighed. “Ya just missed it.” Good God, his voice.

“Missed–”

“C’mon, baby. Use that pretty head. How bout I’ll wait for ya tomorrow?” 

Your heart skipped a beat.  “Yeah.”

“Just call at the same time.” 

“Okay,” you agreed with a smile in your voice. “It was nice to see you the other day. . .” 

“Oh, baby you got no idea,” he groaned. “I’m comin’ back next week.” 

“Are they gonna let you back?” you giggled.

“They’ve gotta! I didn’t do nothin’.”

“You didn’t. . .you’re right. . .” 

“Hey don’t give’em any ideas.”

"Right," you laughed. 

"What are ya gonna do when ya get out?"

“In general? Try to find honest work, I guess.” 

“Nothin’ dishonest ‘bout what you were doin’. But I hear ya, parole’s a bitch.” 

“You on parole?”

“Nah, long time ago though.” 

‘Yeah?”

“Kept my nose clean the whole damn time.  Ended up back in the can anyway.” 

"For what"

"Framed for fuckin' murder."

"What??"

"Relax, I was exonerated." 

"No shit."

"Yeah." He cleared his throat and changed the subject. "You ever danced?"

"Course I fuckin' danced"

"Where at?"

"In memphis."

"Oh, I dunno jack shit about that scene."

"Wasn't great."

"Guess that's where you uh, got your start though."

"Yeah."

"Well do what ya want but lemme know if ya need a gig."

'Thanks." 

He sighed. "I know it sucks not gettin' any in there. "

"Yeah."

"Are ya? Gettin' any? Girls, guards?"

"No," you answered, looking over your shoulder. "Think I could tell ya if I was, though?"

"Shit, sorry." 

"You gettin' any?" 

"Oh I'm a straight up ho." 

"Yeah?" You asked, intrigued.  "Surprised I hadn't seen ya at the clinic," you teased. 

"Cause I'm way the fuck 'cross town. Got our own clinic." 

"Good for you." A pleasant surprise that he stayed clean. 

"Yeah, on a first name basis. Make my girls go, too. Still wrap it most the time though." 

"Your girls."

"Dancers."

"Right." Mabel had mentioned he worked at a club. "Well, at least one of us is gettin' some."

"Shit, I was gettin' some sugar the other night," he said. "Pretty little head between my legs 'n I was lookin' at your picture."

Your heart fluttered. "No shit," you laughed. "My picture, huh?"

"Ohh, you don't even know. I want it bad, sugar, and I ain’t even tasted it." 

"Yeah?" 

"Shit I prolly think about it as much as you do . . .and I've got a life." 

"Who says I think about it?" You asked flirtatiously.

"I got ESP. Makes me tingle when ya do."

"Oh does it?"

"Ya think about me in the shower, in bed. . ." 

You laughed. "And where do you think about me?"

"Fuckin' everywhere. I've gotta have ya, baby. So bad it hurts." 

—----------

Whenever you came back to your cell after talking to Jojo, Mabel would leave to make a phone call or go to the common area to watch whatever outdated movie was playing in the common area. Often with a wink. She knew he got you all wound up. 

—----------

You called him at the same time the next day. 

"How's your week been," you asked. 

"Hard," he said, then his voice became hornier.  "So fuckin' hard. . . n' that's all you." You could hear his belt and zipper. 

"Wish I could help."

“i'm sure ya can once you're out. If you wanna hang out sometime.” You heard a bottle click open then squirt. 

You teasingly hummed as though thinking it over. "Mmmm. . . .I dunno, what would you wanna do?”

“I can pick ya up right from the slammer, ‘less ya got someone else.”

“I don’t.”

“Great, then we can just. . . i dunno, get to know each other,” he mused, then added at a lower pitch, “In the back seat of my whip. Stop off somewhere close.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Fuck yeah,” he said. “You don’t understand, baby. I’ve gotta see what’s under that garb.” His hand was sliding up and down his lubed up cock. “I’ve gotta feel it.” 

Butterflies swarmed in your chest and you sighed.

“What were ya wearin’ when ya got picked up?”

“Well. . . you already know what I’m in for. . .”

"Damn right I do, and you're gonna find out."

You laughed – at visitation, he said you were in for it. . 

"C’mon, jailbird. What were ya wearin.”

“A black microskirt"

"Mmm."

"Black mesh crop top"

"Yeahhh"

"Over a pink bra.”

“Ohhh, fuck,” he sighed. “Shoes?”

“Shit, I’m not–hmm." You tried not to overthink it. "Definitely platforms. Silver and clear, I think."

He gave a low whistle. "Sounds hot as shit." 

“And fishnets. Shit, that's all I had,” you laughed. "Maybe you can bring me something else." 

“God damn, that’s what I get to pick ya up in?”

“I mean, I wasn’t planning on the fishnets.”

“Commando in that skirt? Shit, that’s even better.” His breath grew heavier. "Fuck it, just sit on me while I drive," he murmured. "Yeah, fuckin' sit on *this* the whole drive–ugghh." As if avoiding the word cock would make this conversation passable.

You sighed and tried to hide your arousal from the Corrections Officer (CO) standing 8 ft away. 

"Can't get it in ya soon enough, baby." 

"Mmm," you said quietly. "Can't wait."

"Jailbird, you're fuckin killin' me." He moaned. "Hot as hell. . . fuck."

"You sure I can take it?"

"Fuck, I dunno, baby," he panted. "It's a lot."

"I could tell"

"Uugggghhh," He groaned and you heard his hand sliding faster on his dick. "And what'd ya think about that ?"

"Oh, I’m up for the challenge,” you cooed saucily. "Just get me nice 'n ready."

"You ready right now?"

"The second I heard your voice."

"Fuck, I gotta know what ya taste like"

"Mmm."

"Yeah," he panted.,"And when you're nice and ready, then what?"

You lowered your voice to a near whisper. "Oh, just fuckin' wreck me. Split me open, baby." All you could do was clench your thighs together.

"Ohhh god"

"Don't hold back"

"Ohh fuck–couldnt if I tried." He sighed.

You had lost all restraint and just prayed whoever reviewed this call would be cool.  

"Just stuff me full of it," you whispered. 

"Fuck, yeah."

"Stretch me out." 

"Ohh yeah." 

"Pound me so hard i can’t see straight."

"Shit." He moaned and his hand moved faster. 

"And then? Fill me the fuck up. I wanna feel it." 

"Fuck yeah," he panted "i'll be seepin' outta ya for days."

"Then you better fill me up again." 

"Jesus, fuck–ohhh." 

"Don't tell me you'd spill it this fast."

"Oh fuck you," he laughed in good humor. "I'm not spillin' shit." You could still hear his hand. 

"Not even if I'm sittin' on ya while ya drive?"

"Not even." 

"Not with one hand on the wheel and one on my tit?"

"Ohh fuck," he breathes.  "No, no. . ."

"And I'm moanin' your name with every bump in the road?"

"Mmmm, fuck, baby."

"Oh ya like that?" 

"Fuckin'--fuck–fuckin' love it."

"Wouldya mind slidin' that hand down between my legs?" 

"Wherever ya want it, baby."

"Ugh, those big hands," you whispered. "I just know you can use'em."

"Fuckin' right I can," he panted.  

"Hope ya don't finish while you're drivin' with me in your lap."

"All ya gotta do is sit still."

"Imagine the mess if you came." 

"Fuck, baby," he sighed.

"Every time we hit a bump, more would spill out in  your lap.”

“Ohh, fuck."  Then a long, drawn out moan like he was coming. You were throbbing wildly. 

"Knew ya were close," you laughed. Then you heard a heavy smack on his end of the line. Then there was nothing but breathing for a minute, then it sounded like he was writing. 

"What are you doing now?"

"Addressing an envelope."

"You're not mailing me your–"

"No I'm not mailin' you my" he laughed,  "Load."

"Just a letter?

"Yeah. . . Just a letter." 

"Mmkay. . . How 'bout a picture?"

His tone was warm and flattered. "Oh I can throw in a pic. But it's not gonna be the kind ya *really* want."

"Booo," you pouted.

'Think you'll like it anyway."

"Yeah, I can fill in the rest." 

Your time was up. 

—-------

You went back to your cell and sighed as you sat down on your bed. Mabel started to leave but you said, "no, you're good." You'd rub one out later. You wanted to ask Mabel if he really liked you, but you wouldn't let yourself be vulnerable like that. You were still trying to detach.  

"You're right, he's cool," you said. 

 "You like him, don't ya? He likes you, too.”  

She reached under her mattress into the fitted sheet and got out her poke and stick supplies. “C’mere, let's just get it over with,” she said. 

“What, uh, what do you wanna give me?”

"J. . . O. . ." 

Your whole upper body heated up and you laughed under your breath, "Mabel." She was mostly kidding. 

—-----------

Visitation day came and you weren't nervous, just excited. He was wearing a too-small, black softwash t-shirt, black jeans, and a chain.

“Be good,” the guard warned Joel as you picked up the phone on your side. 

"Yes, officer,” Joel replied with a respectful nod, then sat down. You noticed his rings as he picked up his phone. “We gotta be good,” he said with a wink.  

“So be good,” you told him vacantly as your eyes roamed his tattoos. 

He stared at you for a few seconds, hungrily taking in the mundane sight of you in your garb. He shook his head like he couldn’t believe it. 

“How’d ya get hotter? Chicks don’t get hotter in lock-up, much less in a week.” 

“What, and men do? It’s in your head.”

“Well yeah, we work out like mad.” 

“Guess you’ve got me there.” 

“Not talkin’ 'bout your body. It’s bangin’, but, I mean–no makeup and you’re pretty as hell.” 

You smiled and shrugged, "thanks," then whispered, "but I think you're just horny," with a wink.  He returned the shrug. 

A few seconds of silence passed as he checked you out. You salivated over his arms stretching his shirt. He leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. “Whatcha thinkin about?”

“I’m thinkin’ ya look like a slutty bouncer. . .You get this shit at Spirit Halloween?”

Joel chuckled. “Well . . . you know what *I’m* thinkin’ about.” His eyes glued to your chest. 

Yeah, yeah, he’s gotta see what’s under that garb. “Yeah, you’ll see it, honey," you said. 

It was a struggle knowing what to say–you wanted to “be good” and not get cut short, but you also wanted to indulge in your fantasies. 

Joel asked, “Where ya wanna go when ya get out?”

“Anywhere. Got some place in mind?”

“Could take ya to my place. Mabel taught me a mean pot roast recipe.” 

You smiled. “You’re makin' me hungry.”

“Oh I’m starvin’, baby.”

"Long drive?"

He exhaled with a puff of his cheeks. "It’ll feel long that day."

“I’m sure it will,” you purred, looking down as if you could see through the booth right to his cock. You wet your lips. “So what’s between here and home?”

He took a deep breath, thought for a second, and told you what highway it was. 

“Oh, okay,” you nodded. “There’s a seven eleven right outside the gate here. 

“There sure is," Joel nodded. "Clean bathrooms too. I checked on my way.”

“You did not.” 

“I’m tellin’ ya," he nodded. "Stopped for gas. First thing I thought about. Swear I think about it as much as you do.” 

“So what’s in the bathroom?”

“Steel handicap railing about hip height”

You raised your eyebrows, intrigued.

“Pretty sturdy to hold onto, or even sit on.” He looked over his shoulder “Like if someone needed a rest or whatever.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Right," you said softly as you nodded. 

"Diaper changin' thingy, too."

You scrunched your face up. 

"Like if ya needed to bend over it and stretch your back.” 

"Ah," you nodded. "Nah."

“Parking lot?”

“That close to here, it’s gotta be crawling with pigs.” 

“Right,” he said in a trance, looking at your mouth. 

“Alright, where else is there," you asked. 

"Rest stop. They got picnic tables near the woods if ya need to, uh," he looked down, "Sit down," he said quieter, "n' take a rest." 

"Oh, I won't want a rest." You slowly shook your head and your eyes lingered on his chain. 

He groaned softly and rested his chin in his hand. He whispered, "You're killin' me here." He scratched his beard and you tingled at the sight of the silver patches, his pinky ring, his hand tattoos–the faded barbed wire.  You sighed. 

"You bein' good?" He asked. 

"Yeah." You resigned yourself to harmless small talk for a few minutes, but it was obvious what you both were thinking about.  There were long silences where you just stared at each other.  

“Just a few more weeks and I’m yours,” you teased. 

His eyes widened and he raised his eyebrows. “You serious?”

Oh, shit - you didn’t wanna scare him off.  Really didn’t even mean it like that, but, you also didn’t mind the thought of him as a boyfriend. 

You nodded and teased, “yours to do what you please.”

He blew out a puff of air. "God damn, baby. I don't think you know what’s comin’ your way.”

“Can’t wait to find out, though.”

“Oh, you’re gonna find out.”  He dug his hand into his lap but didn’t move it. “Shit.”

“Sorry.”

“Never be sorry.”

The guard barked,”Hands where I can see’em,” and Joel obediently raised his hand and put both elbows on the table again. 

"You ain't gonna want no one else again." 

You rolled your eyes at his cockiness which actually turned you on. 

"Don't say I didn't warn ya," he cautioned. 

"Okay," you shrugged with a contemplative frown. 

"Shit, I might be in the same boat." He swallowed and looked like he meant it. Like maybe you were doing something to him that hadn't been done.

"Get my letter yet?" Joel asked. 

"No." 

He smirked, then it faded as he checked you out for the hundredth time. He shook his head, sat back, and took a deep breath.  "This is fuckin' torture." 

"Then it's a good thing I waited til now to ask about ya." 

"the best torture," he clarified, his forehead beginning to glisten. "I'm gonna fuckin explode when I'm back in my ride."  He looked at the unopened box of tissues on his side of the booth, intended for crying visitors. "Thank God I didn't ride the hog." Fuck, he had a motorcycle, too? He held the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder while he opened the plastic on the box and tried to get the tissues started. Then he took three tissues out.  Your breath hitched at the thought of his cum. Was it silky? Stringy? Watery? Sticky? What'd it taste like? Ugh. 

"HANDS," the guard said when he saw Joel finish pocketing the tissues. The guard stepped forward. "Say goodbye, let's go."

"Fuck." Joel sighed and closed his eyes. "Sorry, jailbird." 

When he stood up, you could see the outline of his hard dick on his thigh. You took a deep breath and pried your eyes off his crotch to briefly meet his eyes. He winked and you managed a small smile before eyes fell right back to his jeans as he adjusted himself. Fuck. 

—---------------

Joel’s letter came a couple days later. A photo fell out of it. Black and white. He was sitting in a chair and smoking with one hand holding the cigarette up and his other hand resting between his legs.  Arms blazing in a white t-shirt. Squinting at the camera. He looked hot as hell despite having all his clothes on. He looked like a model. 

The letter was on plain white printer paper, and the letter was short: 

Be good, jailbird. I'll take ya anywhere. 

Sweet, and also sexy. God, you wanted him to take you. 

You flattened out the letter and admired his poor but legible handwriting. Not as bad as some you'd seen. His handwriting was hot.  It was cute that he didn't use any special stationary.  He was a simple man. And God, what a man. You ran your fingers over the words,  and they caught on a different texture.  Something on the paper.  You smelled it and it wasn't cum. It was, like, lotion or Vaseline. 

Wait. You held it up, and your breath hitched. 

You looked behind you to make sure no one was watching, then you stood up, got closer to the light, and held it at an angle. Holy shit. It was his dick print, diagonal across the paper.  A bolt of desire shot through your body.  It was transparent but the different texture was visible. You could see the head, then most of the shaft. It was detailed, there was texture. Even a couple of veins. 

You sat on your bed, leaning against the wall with your knees up.  You rested the paper against your knees at an angle with the tip pointed between your legs.  You just wanted to get a sense of the size–and boy did you–but the sight of it, God. Just the silhouette of it lined up right there made you feral. You needed it so bad.  Needed him.  Who the hell mails a dick print? Fuckin’ Jojo, he was gonna be the death of you.

-----

Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Your engagement really keeps me going, I love y'all.

This AU is due to @beskarandblasters and @wannab-urs and their hilarious list of new joel tropes. But I played myself because he's actually hot and I want him?

Notes

The slapping sound after he came was him letting his cock slap onto the paper.

There are a lot of correctional facilities where they wouldn't get away with all this so you gotta suspend disbelief.

The strip club will be an alternate timeline of this Joel set in the past.

-----

I hear tags aren't working for some people. Please consider following @toxicfics and subscribing to notifications. Must have tumblr push notifications enabled on your phone.

-----

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret

[creedslove]

SWEET HOLE 🍑 PART TWO

Post outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: after Joel introduced you to the pleasures of anal play, you finally felt ready to give your man exactly what he wanted

Warnings: smut, like this is just dirty filthy smut, masturbation (m!), mentions of oral sex (f! receiving) oral sex (m!), ass eating (reader receiving), ass fingering (reader receiving), anal penetration (reader receiving), a little bit of cum play if you squint, age gap, daddy kink (but not really, only used once or twice because it felt right, lol), pet names and dirty talk

A/N: this is very dirty and I loved writing both parts, I hope you liked it as well!!!

PART ONE 🍑

1.7k words

Joel had turned you into an anal whore.

And you loved every minute of it.

After your first experience, Joel knew you'd enjoyed it. You didn't know how to explain it but just the mere memory of it was enough to make your clit throb. The way he hungrily ate your ass, his tongue exploring your sweet hole in a way no one had ever done before. Or how his fingers stretched you up real good and made you feel complete, full and so satisfied at his whole domination on your body.

At first you got embarrassed at admitting it, but now, you just loved how Joel would spread you and eat your ass just as hungrily as he would your gushing tight pussy and you came so hard you often left his beard glistening with your juices.

Sitting on his face became your favorite activity as it was the easiest position for your man to have you spread open and give your both holes his full attention.

Joel was so dirty he even decided to give you homework.

You were doing the dishes as he finished getting ready for patrol, you could hear his heavy steps and feel his presence lingering behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist and he glued your bodies together, pinning you against the sink and squeezed your cheeks, slapping them softly.

"While I'm out, I want you to think of me princess, when you get to shower, take your beautiful little fingers into your ass and finger it for me. Close your eyes and pretend I'm doing it, remember you are stretching up real good for me baby girl" he whispered into your ear, kissing your neck and nibbling it gently.

You just nodded obediently and once you were in the shower, you did exactly what Joel told you to do.

But it wasn't enough. You were more than ready to fill him inside of you. You ached for his body, and you wanted his cock deep inside. You spent the whole afternoon pressing your thighs together, your clit throbbed and you could feel the wetness pooling between your folds each time you walked.

You took a look at the clock and knew you still had two hours before Joel got home, so you knew it was time to get prepared for him.

You lay in bed totally naked, rubbing yourself slowly and gently. You touched your entire body, teasing yourself and pretending he was watching you. Reaching for his drawer you got his bottle of lube and spread some on your breasts, feeling your hardening nipples and playing with them. Your tits were so soft and slippery and you decided to do the same to your ass cheeks, wiggling them softly and chuckling to yourself, picturing how Joel would react at the scene.

It took you all of your willpower not to finger yourself and bring you to your orgasm, but you wanted to hold as much as you could, Joel deserved every single drop of your juices because they were all his as he was the one who provoked all those reactions.

You bit your lips and smiled big as you saw him walking into the room, he stopped dead in tracks, a little shocked at the inviting view he had of your body.

"Fuck baby girl, is all for me?" He asked, circling the bed like an animal would its prey.

You nodded at him, closing your legs faking some modesty.

"Been horny for you the whole day, daddy… I did my homework and fingered my ass for you but it feels it's not enough, so I need you, I need your thick cock" you said and got on your knees, reaching for his crotch and undoing his belt.

You adjusted your hips, ass up in the air, as you saw the tent in his underwear, freeing his cock and watching his thick length. His rosy tip glistened with pre cum, which you spread with your thumb so gently, dragging a low moan from him.

Joel ran his hands down your naked back and got to your ass cheeks, squeezing them gently and spreading them.

You held him by the base and gave his sensitive tip small cat licks and it was enough for him to grip your hair and pull your head gently, making you face him "no princess, I won't last if you do that, be a sweet anon whore for daddy and give me your sweet hole" he told you, holding your face inches from his, before crashing your lips in a hungry and erotic kiss.

•••

When Joel finally lifted his face off your soaked cunt, his face was glistening with your juices. He had eaten you out like a madman, until you were a moaning mess, after cumming so many times you were soaked, slippery and tired, but the burn in your lower stomach wasn't diminishing, you could cum as many times as Joel would make you, but you'd be truly satisfied only when your man got what he wanted. He deserved it all, and you were about to give him.

Joel's erection was painfully hard, but he was being patient, knowing you needed your treat first.

He had you spread open, watching as both your pussy and your asshole clenched, loving to see the small gape your sweet hole formed at the smallest stimulation. You'd really learned your lesson on how to stretch up really good for him. He was so proud of what a such great slut you really were.

Joel pulled you for a kiss, stroking your skin gently in order to help you relax. He knew you really wanted it, but he also understood if you had second thoughts, after all, it was your first time.

He left a trail of kisses up your neck, using his big rough hands to adjust your hips and grabbed the bottle of lube.

"Come on sunshine, keep 'em spread apart for me" he instructed as you held each cheek in hands, opening yourself to him.

"So fucking beautiful" he whispered and leaned in, the tip of his tongue taunting your sensitive hole, at the same time beautiful whimpers came out of your mouth.

Joel chuckled at how you gaped around his tongue and poured the lube over it, his digits massaging it, spreading the slick material all over your tight entrance, letting it run down inside.

He grabbed a handful of lube and pumped his cock into his fist, as it was now so slippery and sensitive. He knew he wouldn't last much, the whole anticipation of the situation was driving him insane, his balls quivered and pre cum wouldn't stop leaking from its tip.

He sat back on the table and pulled you closer "come on sweetheart, now I want you to do what I tell you, got it?" He brushed his hand over your hair and kissed your neck again.

"You're gonna sit on my cock, got it? You'll keep these beautiful sexy cheeks open for me, your tight asshole will sink down my cock at your own pace, take it as much as you can, no pressure" his short nails ran up and down your skin, as you nodded.

You held yourself open and took one shaky breath, reminding yourself it was your sweet Joel and he was the only one you could do that with. You reminded yourself he would always keep you at ease and your comfort and well-being were his top priority.

You sank down slowly on him, his tip entering you as his girth stretched you at the same torturous pace. You groaned slightly and you felt him thumbing your clit "shh, just like that baby girl, it feels so fucking good, you're perfect sunshine" he praised you, encouraging you to take more of him.

It hurt a little, you didn't think you'd be able to take him entirely, but at the same time he played with your clit, you also squeezed him, which made Joel moan out loud shamelessly. When you felt you'd reached your point. He held your hips in place, allowing you to get used to it, reminding you all the time how good of a job you were doing, and your clit still being teased.

You began feeling impatient and moved your hips against his softly, and that was the only sign he needed to know you were ready.

Carefully, he lifted your hips again and you picked your rhythm.

You were so filled by Joel, like never before, it felt so different than anything you experienced but it was so pleasant. You were moving slowly, knowing he was holding himself as best as he could, so you turned to face him.

"On all fours now, daddy, please" you begged and got on your hands and knees, his body following your immediately, holding you by the hips as his thrusts got faster, until he was finally pounding into your tight asshole.

His ministrations on your clit didn't have a single break and your familiar knot was building up once more. You closed your eyes and called his name, not caring if you were loud or not, nothing mattered at that point, it felt as if you and Joel were the only ones in the world, and nothing existed besides your bodies tangled and the obscene noises that came from the two of you.

You couldn't hold back your final orgasm and came for Joel again, feeling your whole body shake and your legs give in.

He was also not able to hold it either, being too turned on and sensitive, the moment you came your tight walls squeezed him even more and just shot his thick load into your ass.

He panted tiredly, throwing himself onto the mattress and loving the view of your now, big gape. His cum flooding it and when you clenched it again, some spilled out.

Joel used his finger to gather it and push it back inside "gotta be a good girl for daddy and keep it in" he said, before pulling you for a kiss.

Later that evening, he helped you to shower, washing your body patiently and being so careful. You were his precious fuck doll and no one could ever touch you.

You turned to him and rested your head against his chest, feeling the warm water pouring down over you.

His arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.

"I love you Joel" you whispered to him, not expecting hearing it back from him as it never happened, but you knew he loved you too, because you were his and no one could please him as much as you could.

_____

A/N: that was hot 🔥🥵 🍑

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

Red Trio: Idea

Pairing: Peter Park x fem! Reader x Wade Wilson \ Spiderman x fem!reader x Deadpool

Warning: discussing sex,

Material List

Prev | Next

Despite their conversation, nothing really changed. Peter still adores each of them, one more than he should have. He still patrols with Deadpool when he can and invites him over when he has the time. He still talked about his beloved girlfriend when asked and when not asked. Wade and (y/n) continued their life with Peter in between.

Or at least she tried too.

How was one supposed to move on when it was clear their boyfriend liked men? Did he truly like men and was simply settling for her? Or did he like both sexes and was confused about which one to take now?

Too many questions and not enough answers. So she went for a few drinks and asked some strangers at a random bar for some answers. Of course, she got a long list of answers, but the next day, a few of those answers stuck in her hungover mind.

Someone had said, "Let him have a taste. Let him see that the grass isn't greener on the other side." He explained how he did the same to his wife, letting her go amicably with her affair partner. She came back three days later. They were still happily married.

"Leave him." a woman said. " he's probably gay and using you as a beard. You don't deserve that. Leave him." She then proceeded to tell her a story about how an ex-boyfriend had used her until he could escape his religious parents. She really thought they were in love.

"Have them both." The bartender said, " Have fun with it. This is an opportunity. Plus, you'll know if he focuses more on the other than you. Then you aren't it. At least it will end with a good time. A good story to tell."

Show him the grass isn't green.

It was an idea. Definitely something to think about, and she was.

Perhaps getting it out of his system is something he needs. He does it once, and he'll return to her truly, or ... he'll be honest and leave her. It would be better than this stalemate they were in. She didn't want him to go but she'd rather him go than waste her time. Then again, she didn't think she'd have the confidence to leave him alone with Wade.

Have them both.

Maybe he'll stay if she shows him what she's willing to do for him. Maybe.

-

(Y/n) took out the first aid kit as she kneeled next to the couch.

"I'm okay," Peter mumbled into a pillow, half-conscious.

"I know," (Y/n) said as she pulled out butterfly stitches and told Deadpool to get water and towels. She knew Peter had a healing ability, but that didn't stop her from treating his wounds. Treating his wounds made them heal quicker and with less pain.

By the time she was done treating his wounds, he was asleep. She picked up his dirty suit, tossing it into the wash.

"Thank You for bringing him home." (Y/n) said, " Are you alright?"

She noticed how he was favoring his left side.

"Ah, just a few bullet wounds."

That's one thing (Y/n) hated about the red suits. You never knew when they were bleeding. Abandoning the laundry, she moved the first aid kit to the kitchen counter and motioned him to follow.

Deadpool was admittedly refusing her treatment." I can heal. I don't need any band-aids. I'm good."

"Just cause you can heal doesn't mean you don't need to be treated." She said as she basically manhandled him into a stole.

"So strong," Wade whispered as she forced him to sit down.

"Where?"

"My ass"

Usually, when Wade did something like that, people would laugh or glare at him unamused. Not (Y/n), she took him at his word, quickly pulling him up from his seat, turning him over, and helping him pull down his pants to reveal his scared ass and the bullet lodged in it.

He hadn't been lying.

"Goodness,"

"I know it's not pretty," Wade said as he leaned casually on the counter while sticking his booty out high.

"This hole is huge."

"Too much anal."

"I'm talking about the bullet hole, Wade. I'm sorry, but this is going to hurt." He didn't like the way her voice wavered.

"You know you don't have to. I've dealt with worse in my ass."

(Y/n) choose to ignore him. All her focus was on the task at hand, which was taking a 50 caliber out of his ass cheek.

Wade's silence was unnerving as she dug the bullet out. Even Peter flinched when she gave him stitches. She moved as quickly as possible. "I'm so sorry," she whispered as she dug it out.

She let out a sigh of relief when she finally got it out. She put it on the counter for him to see.

"Believe it or not, that is the second smallest thing that's ever been in my ass." The look that (y/n) gave him was a bad look. Not a mad or irritated look, but more so sad and betrayed. He couldn't quite explain it. " Can I have the Hello Kitty band-aid?" Peter had bought them specifically for Wade.

She nodded as she took the biggest one, although the wound was already closing up.

"Do you want one?" (Y/n) said, offering him a black bottle of pills as he pulled up his pants. "These are painkillers. They're made by Mr.Stark for Peter, so they're really strong and last long."

"Gasp, you're offering me drugs?!"

" Painkillers," she pouted a bit.

" And just when I was thinking about going clean." He popped two.

"Would you like to spend the night?"

"Spend the night. Imagine the scandal. What would your neighbors think."

"Nothing. There are only two others on this floor. One is a bachelor pad; he's home with the family this month. And the other is up for rent."

"Oh, we could be neighbors."

She ignored him and moved to the couch where Peter was. Gently waking him up, Wade helped her get him up to bed and tucked him in.

Going back downstairs, she helped Wade pull out the couch and gave him some blankets. " Those painkillers are strong. I'd rather you not be on the streets." Wade was already swaying his place. Was it the pills or exhaustion finally catching up?

"Hey, Wade." She watched as he removed his weapons, setting them on the floor.

"Yes, dear"

"Peter's birthday is coming, and I thought we'd do something for him."

"I can bring the strippers." (Y/n) was too exhausted to roll her eyes.

"Could you stop by the hospital on my lunch break?" she looked upstairs, where Peter was sleeping peacefully. " We can talk about it then."

Wade watched as she made her way upstairs to bed. He laid down and listened as she moved about, trying to find sleep. They both found it eventually.

-

(Y/n) was sitting outside in a hidden cove next to the hospital, frustrated with herself. She had told Wade to meet her at the hospital but not where, and she didn't have a way to contact him either. Fuck. She groaned as she put her head on the table.

Standing up, she planned to make her way back to the front. Hopefully, she'd catch him at the front. Before she even reached the door, she felt a heavy hand grab her shoulder. With no hesitation, she immediately turned around, swinging her lunch bag at the person. It was a man covered from head to toe. Hoodie, gloves, sunglasses, surgical mask.

"IT'S ME, IT'S ME" He shouted just as she tossed her steel water bottle at his head. The thump it made when connecting with his head.

"I'm so sorry," (Y/n) immediately apologized. She ushered him to the seating area quickly. " I didn't recognize you."

"I'm sorry for hiding my beauty."

Opening her lunch box, she fished out an ice pack and quickly placed it on his head. " I'm so sorry,"

"Are you?"

"yes," she said, offering a sandwich and cookies. She packet extra just for him.

She watched as he opened his mouth and quickly closed it. He did that often when he was around her. He'd open his mouth with a dirty retort and then quickly close it before it escaped. She didn't know why she heard the dirty things he said to Peter over the phone. Peter told her some of the things he said on patrol, and there were times when he didn't close his mouth quickly enough. She didn't know why he was so restrained around her?

"So, what's on your mind, doc?"

"Nurse, and I wanted to talk to you about doing something with Peter on his birthday."

"Oh, a surprise birthday. I'll bring the cake and the cocaine."

"No. No drugs. I wanted to do something more private." Wade moaned as he took a bite of this cookie. They were homemade, and he loved (Y/n)'s homemade cookies. He often pestered Peter for them when he brought them on Patrol to snack on.

"I want a threeway." And now he was choking on the homemade cookie. She passed him her water bottle.

"Peter loves you, so why not give him a taste of you for his birthday?"

He chugged the water down with the small hope of possibly drowning himself. He put the bottle down.

"I can't believe I'M saying this, but uh...actions have consequences?"

"I am aware of the possible outcomes and I am willing to risk it. I'm willing to try."

"What do you want out of this?" she didn't like the way his voice sounded right now. It lacked the tone of amusement or glee it usually had. It was very serious.

"I want to know if he loves me or just settled for me because he doesn't know what he wants or is too scared to go get it. I want to give him a taste. Will he like it and ask for more, or will he be satisfied and stay with me? Will he choose me when he's done?"

"Life doesn't work that way, Kid," Wade said. He thought she was so mature, but her age was showing. " Sex doesn't work that way. Have you ever had a threesome before?"

"No"

"I'm not here to fuck up your relationship.I don't-"

"I am offering you sex-"

"Does he even know?"

"We've talked about the possibility. He-we've watched videos. I...He wants you. It'll be a surprise."

"You are trying to give your boyfriend to me without telling him."

"Wade-"

"I hear communication is key in a relationship -"

"NEVERMIND"

"I'll do it," he says just as she stands to leave. " But if he says no, I'm leaving. Like for good. I'm gone. I'm not sticking around for the fallout."

"Okay, that- I can do that. No mean no... thank you."

Wade watched as (Y/n) gathered the rest of her things, leaving half her lunch behind for him before she rushed inside. Running away from this conversation. While Wade stayed and cursed whoever gave her the idea and himself for agreeing.

[thatoneperson747]

Hi

So while procrastinating writing the fic I'm working on, I decided it was time for me to read the Royal Ranger. I only have book one, and I've had it for about a year now, but I never read even the first page. I've heard stuff throughout the fandom about it, but I've tried to stay away from royal ranger specific posts in order to not spoil the book for me.

If you also haven't read it yet and want to avoid spoilers, stop reading now. You've been warned.

Here's the things I knew before reading:

Will has a beard now. This is very controversial.

Alyss dies. She was burned to death. Also very controversial.

Horace and Cassie have a daughter named Maddie. Maddie becomes Will's apprentice.

And that's about it.

I decided that since the Royal Ranger was so hit or miss for the community, I'd document my thoughts on it (as a personal record, if you will) and see how my opinions change, if they change at all. Feel free to laugh at me if I make predictions and they end up being completely wrong lol

I've read the first seven chapters, and here are the main thoughts I have right now.

1. Is Will now just Halt? When he was first being described during the scene with Henry Wheeler, I dead ass thought Flanagan was talking about Halt. I mean, Will is grey already? Like, fully grey. He's described as having a "steel-grey beard." Not grey and brown, just grey. Halt???

2. Alyss' death fit her character well, but why did she have to die? Keep in mind, I was never the biggest fan of Alyss - I thought a character as interesting as a diplomat should have more personality than just "the main character's girlfriend" - but come on? We barely got to see them married. Idk man. I feel like her death would be better justified if they had actually like. been together longer? 10/10 for writing her death though, saving a poor child from death seems really in character for her, especially considering that's pretty much what Baron Arald did for the ward kids (he didn't die for it but still, he saved them from a childhood of neglect and almost certain death). I feel like it's a great wrap to her story, although I wish her story was longer.

3. Crowley was done dirty. What the actual f u c k Flanagan? The Corps Commander, the man, myth, and legend gets a paragraph to explain his death. It's such a lamely written death too? Crowley, a ranger, who was probably in peak health, just nopes out one night. At least he was smiling..? And maybe it's the fact that TEY is my favorite part of the series so far, but Crowley deserved way better than that shit. Also I'm surprised that I managed to not know about Crowley's death before this?? I actually cried reading it. He was such a precious little man in TEY, how could you do this Flanagan???

4. Maddie is a bit of a brat. Not even a bit, she kinda just is. To be fair, Cassie was that way sometimes as well, but Maddie just seems... I don't know, too much of a 'I-do-what-I-want-and-you-can't-stop-me' kinda person, but in a bad way??? Like that one kid in school who would never listen to authority figures and got everyone in trouble all the time? I hope she mellows out because she could be a great character, I think. It's said she takes after her mom, but I'd like to see her act like Horace too.

5. Gilan. Just Gilan. What?? I never liked his relationship with Jenny much, he seems quite a bit too old for her (at least 5 years, most likely quite a bit more since Halt had a few years between Gilan and Will), but he's so relentless in asking her to marry him? Huh??

And also, BOLD of Flanagan to assume Gilan would be hesitant about letting a girl into the corps. This man has traveled with Cassie. He's traveled with Lydia from Brotherband. He knows women are capable. I mentioned not liking his and Jenny's relationship, but like. he even respects her. She's a business woman, she owns her own restaurant. No one can possibly convince me that Gilan doesn't drink his respect-women juice DAILY. It feels out of character for him.

6. Poor Duncan. That's the end of the sentence.

7. Those guards are hysterical. Ah, yes, let's just casually not mention or try to stop the princess sneaking in and out of the castle even though this could end really really badly. Perfect logic.

And yeah that's all I got right now. I'm very excited to see how my opinions so far change! I'll document them here too in case anyone cares. Feel free to reblog with your own RR opinions and the like! I'd love to see what you guys think of my takes lol

[recoiloperated]

Kind of long under the cut

I'm sure you're expecting some soppy story about how we met, but no. Of all places we met in a soup kitchen, both of us were volunteering, It was kind of my misguided way of trying to correct the wrongs of my previous life. She was a dorky, stars in her eyes do gooder. And I? Hell. I was a wreck then, unkempt beard, dirty shirt, ripped pants. I looked more like a homeless guy then a volunteer, I figured she was just some college student trying to make merit or something. She seemed like the type...

Honestly, I kind of forget how it started. She just showed up and started talking with me, and the next thing I knew we were getting dinner that wasn't soup kitchen soup. And then coffee, and then wedding cake... God knows I don't deserve her...

Learning she was a B class superhero was a little bit of a shock. We had been married for about 2 years and I had no suspicions, some super villain, eh?

She got some of minor injury tangling with an upper c class villain, and the consortiums translocator, frame shift, showed up in my house. I almost killed him on accident, fortunately I missed entirely. What can I say? I was 5 years out of practice.

At one point I had fantasized about boarding Oracle station as a conqueror, now I was carried on to it as a husband worried about his wife.

It was interesting, there were a lot of other hero's spouses there too. Apparently there's a weekly support group, so of course my beautiful bride bullied me into joining it.

I was a little bit uncomfortable at first, obviously there were a lot of people on board the oracle I had clashed with. surprisingly, no one ever seemed to suspect who I was. If you had asked me whenever I was flamberge what kind of person I thought the living infinite was outside of his superheroing, I would have said that the s class hero was probably a total prick.

He's actually a pretty down to earth guy named Luke who plays pokémon.

They spoke of me like some kind of demon in the dark, which was something between saddening and flattering. S class meta humans are incredibly rare, really it's only me and the living infinite. Most meta humans are E-Class, hardly more superhuman than a particularly good athlete. There's a few d-class heroes, but they mostly stick to stuff like getting kittens out of trees. 

Anyways, my wife, Minerva. Known by her superhero name as Saberina- Yes, I bully her about the pun. Had gotten a couple of broken bones, nothing really serious, and the mook that did it got grabbed and locked up. All's well that ends well.

Honestly, I kind of enjoyed hanging out with the heroes for once. This showed me all sorts of stuff, including the simulator they built to simulate fighting me, they based on totally fraudulent idea of what my power was, which is funnily actually my wife's power. Though she has it to a lesser degree than they were attributing to me. "Your wife may someday be able to refine her power to the same level as flamberge," Luke told me once after sparring with my mechanical double. "Right now she can cut through almost any terrestrial material, but, still can't cut me."

I had taken a lot of pains to hide my real power, most people assumed my sword was magic, letting me cut anything. Which was exactly what I wanted them to think. The sword in fact, is a cheap replica I stole as part of my first heist, My power has nothing to do with it. But what made me S class is the fact that I wounded the living infinite with it. I didn't even think I could whenever I tried, and it made my life so much more difficult. From a simple A class bank robber to a globally hunted super villain, branded as the world's Greatest evil? Money and greed lead me down that path and it took forever to escape it. Sure, I have a ton of cash in various untraceable accounts, and when the whole Nation of France surrendered to me I just *HAD* to march into Paris to claim my certificate of surrender. I still have it too. It's too funny.

My favorite part was when we had a casual chat about how various heroes would have faired against different dead, missing or imprisioned villains- bro when they got to me, well- Flamberge. Everyone when dead silent until I claimed my wife would have had him whipped before he knew it. That was funny as hell. If only they knew

It was another 5 years, during which I actually became pretty good friends with Luke before it happened. Seven years of bliss with my wife, we were talking about her retirement and kids, and then frameshift, or Jack, as I knew him now, came and got me.

It was bad.

Really bad.

I... I still can't really think about it...

See, metahuman power classes are exponential. And a group of villains jumped her, a few D class, a few C class... And BloodPrice. The only active A class villain.

She was.... Broken. Her whole body was a terrible bruise, her ribs, arms, legs... I could see her shattered bones poking at her skin...

Jack gave me this speil about gathering Intel, putting together a team, bringing them to "justice"

While their metahuman doctor Caduceus warned me that she might die even with his A class healing abilities...

I didn't want justice... I wanted revenge.

I stayed that night with her, Luke was gone on some mission to represent us at some interstellar thing, Andrew- Talisman, one of the two active A class heroes, was trying to get a team together and work on a plan.

But I had a plan.

My plan was 195cm of sharpened steel.

Even when I was a supervillain I rarely killed, sure. My hands aren't clean, but I was never gratuitous. I wounded and injured a lot. hell, I took one of Andrews fingers clean off. Caduceus grew it back, but I still felt A little bit guilty.

I didn't bother with my old suit, just the sword, my pants, boots, and the zip top pull over I was in the day they hurt her.

The weight of the sword on my shoulder felt intensely wrong. And so, so, so very right.

I hid my true power well... I might not be in my garish Landskenecht outfit, but the swagger came naturally back, the C-class guarding the door, I think they called him Cinder? tried to stop me by setting me on fire. Not much use against a guy who's power is manipulating material properties. My skin and clothes were fire proof, and my bones were osmium dense. I smashed him through the wall with a left hook and all my strength. What was left of cinder was a pink haze that settled on everything and everyone. I remember saying "Where's BloodPrice. He hurt my wife, I'm here to make him pay." Before the party started, and I remember a flurry of blows, the heat, the cold, the venomous plants clawing at my skin, and the bite of my blade against them. An arm flying severed, a leg laying next to a B-class villain, and the blood, I waded through it, cutting and clubbing them as I moved through them until finally I was done. BloodPrice fought viciously, but in the end, I'm flamberge.

I made his bones like glass and skin like porcelain...

And I broke him, like he broke her.

Then I left, covered in gore and the blood of other men. And staggered out into the parking lot of the abandoned warehouse... To see him. A galaxy distilled into a man, a fractal individual.

"Luke." I said, afraid of what happens next.

Slowly, he settled to the ground near me. "Darren."

The silence stretched for eternity.

Finally "the hurt my wife Luke. Maybe killed her, my wife - my love." My voice caught. His hand rested heavy on my shoulder, his other hand held open in front of me. "I need it still. She needs to be protected." I told him. "Maybe you should do that with a new sword, not one with such a dark history..." He answered. "I came here expecting to find an enemy Darren, I hope I found my friend instead."

I gave him the sword.

I don't regret it.

Emily, my daughter is 7 next week. And Luke, my son is 3. We're expecting our third end of the year.

I freelance with the consortium every once in a while. They call me the paladin though. It's a nice change...

You’re a retired S-tier supervillain. After you retired, you married a B-tier hero. You are forced back onto the stage when an A-tier villain attempts to kill your spouse.

[coffieolore]

Chapter Two

A Negotiation with Mice

Two men play draughts in an abandoned warehouse. Besides the game board, the table between them is littered with empty fast food cartons and bottles of beer. Rusty farm equipment, stripped cars, and an assortment of grime covered junk take up most of the space in the warehouse. But a few feet away are two mattresses covered in dirty blankets and old clothes. The men have been sleeping here for days.

The older-looking man, Oluman Shi, moves a red piece, capturing four of his opponent’s pieces. “Heh, I’m simply too much,” he laughs as he adds the white tiles to his mounting stack. “Aren’t you tired of losing?”

Bald and heavily wrinkled, Shi wears an unruly grey beard that covers his jaw entirely, coiling down to his chest like wild bougainvillea. But the old man is also well-built, and his attire leaves little to the imagination, consisting solely of the cloth bound around his waist, traditional leather sandals, and the large black beads on his neck, wrists and ankles. He flexes his muscles in celebration, and they ripple and gleam even beneath the weak fluorescent lights in the high ceiling.

“Give up already,” he says. “This is just getting sad.”

Kiira, the second man, is unmoved by Shi’s looming victory. He is heavily built as well, albeit leaner and several inches taller, with platinum blonde braids that cascade down his back. Unlike his companion, he is outfitted in something modern—blue jeans and combat boots. “So you won a board game?” he mutters, crossing his arms over his bare, tattooed chest. “What do you want, a medal?”

Shi lets out an exasperated sigh. “What’s your problem? Please don’t tell me—”

“Oh excuse me for being concerned about our safety,” says Kiira. “I’m only trying not to die.”

“How are you still worried about her?” Shi says. “You wanted us to leave Ghana, and so we did.”

“I was thinking overseas, not bloody Nigeria.”

“You were worried about protection, and so we lifted over a dozen concealment beyie.”

“I would lift a hundred more if I could,” Kiira says.

“We even installed, what, thirty-six warding talismans? What more do you want?” Shi says.

“I want to have never agreed to this batshit plan in the first place!” Kiira snaps.

“You would rather we remained that witch’s servants for the rest of our lives?” Shi says.

“Better that than no life at all,” mutters Kiira.

Shi shakes his head. “You have chicken balls, bro.”

“Your mother has chicken balls.”

“You have chicken balls,” Shi says again. “And so does that immortal cow you’d rather be serving. Say what you will about Oluman Shi, but at least he’s got vision. We deserve more than what Wu allows. And I’m tired of pretending like we don’t.”

The lights in the ceiling flicker, and the two men look up. Kiira is immediately panicked, and he rambles a string of swear words under his breath.

“Will you shut up?” Shi hisses. “It’s just a fluctuating current.”

The lights start flickering again. There is a spare chair next to the mattresses on the floor. Neither notice when, during one of the flickers, the chair disappears.

When the lighting steadies, the men look at each other and Shi rolls his eyes. “Told you. Big baby.”

“Hello boys.”

Kiira and Shi jump to their feet, jerking their eyes up to the source of the new voice. Their chairs clatter backwards across the floor.

Floating high above them, seated in her own chair with her legs crossed, is Mama Wu.

Kiira lets out another obscenity, and this time it is more a wail of despair than fear. He and Shi immediately draw witch-arms—Kiira’s a spear, and Shi’s a whip—and poise themselves for attack.

“Give me an excuse,” Mama Wu says. “I dare you.”

And suddenly, neither Kiira nor Shi can find the will to move.

As Mama Wu makes her slow descent from above, she speaks:

“So a curious thing happened about a week ago. I received a distress signal from Korkor. Showed up to find one of the villagers wandering about two miles outside the village, a raging fiery monster. As it turns out, somebody had corrupted his sunsum and, with the keepers too preoccupied trying to stop his rampage, launched a devastating firestorm beyie on the village. The community I spent the last century painstakingly seeding, grooming, and building? Reduced to dust. Worse still, I was left with the very unpleasant task of ending that villager’s life myself—the last of his people, my handiwork. To call it excruciating would be an understatement. And the entire time, you know what I was thinking?”

Her chair ceases its descent to hover just about an inch above the floor. “Where. The hell. Is my team?” says Mama Wu. “Did I not recruit a circle of the most talented beyifo in the sub-Saharan region,” she continues, “specifically to prevent this level of catastrophic loss? So where were they? Because other than Selasi, not a single one of them showed up. I thought: ‘Surely this is some kind of misunderstanding. Maybe they’re at a wedding? A funeral? In bed with their lovers? Inexcusable still, but at least, not suicidal.’” Her smile is taut. “Because there’s no way this was on purpose, right? Surely they wouldn’t be foolish enough to betray me?” Her eyes narrow. “And yet, here I find them in hiding, reeking of beer and guilt and fear.”

Kiira’s ramping terror reaches a peak. With a delirious cry, he shoots towards Mama Wu with his spear drawn, at a speed on the cusp of sound.

He doesn’t quite reach Mama Wu before some unseen beyie obstructs him, igniting him on impact, a bright and sudden blaze like phosphorous fire. The momentum sends him flaring past an unfazed Mama Wu. His body skims across the floor, a shooting star on crash landing. And when he comes to a stop, there is nothing left of him but a pile of smoldering bones teeming with squirming, incandescent maggots.

Oluman Shi drops his whip, horrified.

“I’m not sure what I’m more ashamed of,” Mama Wu says, as she gets out of her chair, leaving it still hanging above the floor. “That you would hide at all…” With a wave of her hand, she snatches Oluman Shi off the ground, flips him upside down, and yanks him to her. “…or that you have resorted to petty tricks.”

She waves her hand again, and his body begins to morph. His muscles compress, his frame lengthens, his beard shrivels and blows away like desiccated grass. His facial features liquify into wet clay, squeezing, twisting, and molding themselves back into their original state.

“It makes me question what I ever saw in you,” says Mama Wu.

A different man now hangs before Mama Wu. But for his bald head, this one bears a fraternal resemblance to Kiira. He fights back tears of rage as Mama Wu bends over to address him, her face inches away from his.

“Kamari,” says Mama Wu. “Where is Oluman Shi?”

“You’re going to kill me anyway,” Kamari stammers through gritted teeth. “So why would I tell you?”

Mama Wu’s smile does not meet her eyes. “Because I could make your end swift, like your brother’s. Or I could turn this into a very, very long night.”

Kamari shakes his head so hard, his neck bones are making gentle pops. “We face neither East nor West, neither East nor West, neither East nor West,” he drones, his voice deepening into a pitch as deep as the sea. His facial muscles slacken, and his eyes roll back into his head. “We march eternally forward, eternally forward, forward. The revolution…has come.”

Mama Wu steps aside, just as a light shines out of the whites of Kamari’s eyes. The light projects a fluttering, washed-out image in the air.

An image of Oluman Shi. This version of the bald, bearded old man is wearing a camo uniform of dark, muddy and olive greens. He stands with his back to Mama Wu, his hands clasped behind him, every muscle more pronounced than when Kamari wore his likeness. He speaks over his shoulder in a deep and rumbling Akan:

“Back in my army days, we had a word for commanders like you. Nsamuden. They did a little too much, tried a little too hard, to control everything around them. It sounds perfect for the military at first. But even the dove pecks at your eye if you squeeze it too hard.”

Mama Wu walks up to the image. “You recount your past with such sweet fondness, Shi. If you long for the days when you were human, come here. Let me remind you what mortality tastes like.”

“Of course you would say that.” Oluman Shi turns to face her, his tone chiding as he switches to English. “Your paths to resolution have always been drowned in blood, Mama Wu. No wonder you cannot see the footprints in the sand, never mind where the road leads. But this is the blessing of my truth-eye beyie. It does more than reveal the truth in spoken words. It reveals the truth about the world. And our world is ready for change.”

Mama Wu nods thoughtfully, and starts to sit into empty air. Her chair glides across the floor to catch her in time. “So, that’s what this is?” she says, as she is seated. “A coup?”

“The word ‘coup’ implies you were ever put into power,” Oluman Shi says. “But you weren’t given your authority, Wu. You took it.”

“From flesh-eaters and megalomaniacal coven keepers,” Mama Wu says, with the calm of a millpond. “What’s your point?”

“That you are far from the benevolent god you make yourself out to be. You are a false god. And our brothers and sisters are finally ready to be free. They see how your laws weaken our people. Your disdain for any authority other than your own has only resulted in stagnation. You are a boulder around our necks, weighing us down from our true potential. The old ways must die.”

Mama Wu’s smile is unfaltering. “And I with them, I suppose.”

“Only if you resist. Unlike you, I am open to diplomatic paths.”

“He says, a week after mass murdering a village.”

Oluman Shi pauses, and takes a deep breath. “Korkor was…unfortunate. I mourn the dead in Korkor,” he says, “like I mourn the dead in Saanga.”

Mama Wu goes quiet at the mention of the second village. Otherwise, she offers no other physical reaction. Her smile stays up. “So you know about Saanga,” she finally says.

“That’s the problem with infamy. All those myths and legends about the great Mama Wu; truths buried beneath lies, convenient when you have secrets to hide. Right up until someone comes along…” Shi taps a finger against his forehead. “…who can tell truth and lie apart. In this case, the truth sealed Korkor’s fate. Their destruction was inevitable. And their blood is on your hands.”

Mama Wu cocks her head ever so slightly. “I see.”

“Korkor was only a show of resolve. We mean business, and are willing to take more from you if necessary.”

The image pans with Oluman Shi to reveal a second person, bound to a chair by what appear at first to be coils of shiny black rope. But as the rope shifts, the head of a snake slithers from around the person’s hip, and flicks its forked tongue. Shi stands behind the captive, reaching around to tilt their head up by their chin.

Selasi’s face is bruised, battered, bleeding. His eyes are so swollen, it is impossible to tell if he can even see Mama Wu.

Mama Wu’s smile falters, but doesn’t drop.

“He came looking for Kamari,” Shi says. “He found me instead.”

“If this is your big bluff,” says Mama Wu, “you’re about to be disappointed.”

“Give me some credit. I know your heart is little more than a lump of coal. But I also know that it beat once. And once is enough. I know of the girl.”

Mama Wu goes still. A moment passes. Her smile is now lifeless, as if stitched into her skin. But even then, it still does not drop. “What girl?”

It is Shi’s turn to smile. “Ah ah ah, don’t bother,” he says, with the self-satisfaction of an elder putting a child in their place. “Truth-eye. Denial only wastes your time and mine. As we speak, I have associates on standby, ready to act upon my command. One word and the girl dies. And if for any reason at all, they do not hear from me in twenty-four hours, they will kill her anyway.”

Mama Wu purses her lips. “I see,” she says again.

“You will not be able to stop them,” says Oluman Shi. “Without a doubt, you noticed the measures the boys have taken to cloak their hideout. Except, those talismans aren’t there to keep you out, Mama Wu. No, they’re there to lock you in. They’re part of a special beyie of interlocking seals I designed with two simple conditions—to activate upon your arrival, and to strengthen by absorbing the sunsum of any living thing killed within its field of effect. You killed Kiira so that’s already one exponential increase in strength. Kill Kamari, and that will be two.”

“You sound so proud of yourself,” says Mama Wu.

“It took years to develop. I am.”

“I could blow it apart with sheer brute force. Surely you know that.”

“Yet I am confident you won’t. You should ask yourself why,” Shi says. “By the time you’ve discovered a safe way to free yourself, it will be too late to save the girl, or Selasi, or to stop what is to come. And now that your team has betrayed you, who is to say the community will not turn on you as well? Whom can you trust? Face it Mama Wu. You are alone. You always have been. Do not allow pride to be your downfall. Yield.”

Mama Wu’s composure has seemed unrelenting thus far. But finally, her smile falls, leaving behind a countenance as cold as the moon. “Alright,” she says, “what do you want?”

“You know what I want,” he says. “Step down as arch witch.”

Wu smiles. “So that what? You may lead? You just think you want my authority, Shi. But you are a child wailing for the flame. Its dance mystifies you, but you will only burn yourself and burn everyone and everything down with it.”

“My truth-eye tells me otherwise,” Oluman Shi snaps.

“I don’t care what your beyie tells you. I cannot offer you something you do not deserve.”

“Then the girl will die.”

Mama Wu shrugs. “I guess she will. Look,” she says, moving her head from side to side, loosening her neck muscles, “you get a nine for effort. But a three for overall execution. I’ll admit I’m curious to know who told you about Saanga. And I’m furious you know about the girl. I’ll even throw in a ‘kudos’ for your little trap. But even if I could give you what you want, I don’t negotiate with mice. There is only one way this ends, Shi.” A flash of crimson light as Mama Wu summons her witch-arm. “With your heart in the palm of my hand.”

And for the first time since their conversation began, Shi looks unsure of what to believe. “You would really sacrifice Selasi? The girl? You’re bluffing!” he says, his brow furrowing with doubt. “Aren’t you?”

“I don’t know.” Mama Wu stands, and as she approaches Shi’s image, she says, “You’re the one with the truth-eye.” She leans in close. “You tell me.”

And then, spinning around, she flings her scythe at Kamari. The blade separates his head from his body in one clean cut, dropping it to the floor with a series of soft thuds. The head rolls to a stop at Mama Wu’s feet, and Oluman Shi’s image—now partly projected onto her body—begins to fade.

“You’re mad,” Shi says, as the light from Kamari’s eyes begins to flicker.

“I resent that word.” Mama Wu catches her witch-arm overhead on its way back. “See you soon.”

And with that, Kamari’s eyes go dark.

On cue, a hundred curtains of roiling smoke appear around the warehouse. Strange shapes trudge out of the swirling doorways: two-headed lions, howling wolves with wings, sinuous serpents with pincers and pedipalps, giant prey mantises and butterflies with flickering arachnid eyes embedded in their wings, a carnival of monstrosities. Hulking, snarling kakai of every bestial persuasion multiply around her with each passing second. The creatures twitch and growl as they advance to surround her.

Mama Wu begins to understand what’s happening. If every life taken will strengthen the seal trapping her here then—

She curses Shi under her breath as the horde begins to surround her.

The ancient witch whips out a strip of cloth, gathers her heavy locs over her head, and wraps them in one fluid motion.

“It’s plan B then,” she mutters.

The creatures attack.

OOO

Elsewhere, in another world…

Beneath an ocean of stars, across a sea of sand…

Atop a truncated pyramid, with a massive floor paved in pearly grey slabs…

Oluman Shi stares at the defunct magic circles inlaid in a stone altar, bewildered by his last conversation and simmering with rage. Just beyond the altar, arranged in an arc, are eight standing mirrors framed in silver and rimmed with glowing Adinkra symbols. Each mirror contains a shadow shrouded in fog. One of the shadows, the second from the right, lets out a bellowing laugh.

“What did we tell you?” says the shadow in a man’s voice. “This your plan, it will not work. That evil shrew cannot be blackmailed.”

“Crossing Mama Wu is tantamount to suicide,” says one of the shadows in the middle, a woman this time. “We should have never agreed to this.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to anything,” says a nervous voice from the leftmost mirror. “I only agreed to hear you out. I will deny anything else!”

“Fool, just being a witness to this one’s schemes puts our houses at risk,” says the adjacent mirror. “She will visit her wrath upon us all.”

The voices begin to squabble.

Shi lifts his hands. “Please, please, illustrious ones. The battle has only just begun. We are not alone in this fight. I have sought some special help.”

One of the shadows kisses her teeth. “The kakai? What are kakai to a god?”

“Not just any kakai,” says Oluman Shi. “And not just any kind of help. I ask you to be patient just a little longer. Give me two more days. And if I cannot deliver you Mama Wu’s surrender, I will take my life upon this very altar before you.”

“Save your dramatic lines for your lackeys, Shi,” hisses the second mirror from the right. “Just do what you promised or leave us out of it.”

The mirrors go dark, their adinkra symbols fading out slowly. When Shi is sure the meeting is concluded, he drops his keen expression.

“Hers is the side you’ve taken?” Shi says, turning around. “That is your redeemer?”

Selasi doesn’t respond. His head remains bowed, his breaths sharpening as the snake constricting him to the chair tightens its hold. The chair creaks and threatens to snap.

“At least now you have seen for yourself how little regard she has for your life,” Shi adds, as a burst of purple light draws a witch-arm into his hand—a silver revolver damascened from end to end in waves. He points it at the base of Selasi’s neck, just above the serpent’s heaving body. “You swore loyalty to the wrong god.”

“Just get it over with,” Selasi rasps.

The shot is deafening in the small room, reverberating against the walls, and ringing out into the wilds outside the castle.

Selasi gargles on his own blood. But as he takes his final breaths, he lets out a faint, shuddering chuckle.

Shi shakes his head in disgust. “Maybe you and that she-devil do deserve each other.”

“Go-,” Selasi wheezes. “Go-,” he husks. “Go…tcha,” he finally croaks, as his head drops to the side and the life fades from his eyes.

Every inch of Selasi’s skin is suddenly ablaze in fiery, red runes. A hundred and one chains, made of candescent platinum light, shoot out from the walls, the floor, the ceiling. They latch onto Oluman Shi’s muscular limbs before he can blink. The elderly beyifo struggles and flexes, but the chains are ruthless. They bind his arms and legs, layer after layer, from his elbows and knees to the tips of his fingers and toes. In less than three seconds, he is restrained and his sunsum is nullified.

Shi roars, spewing a cascading series of vile curse words in Akan. And then he calls: “Kwaakwaa!”

A messenger crow arrives in the lone window of the room, flapping to a stop on the sill.

“Send the word,” Shi barks. “They must move on the girl! Now!”

The crow caws, and flies into the night.

[littlefreya]

Hi Freya ~~ how would you rank Henry and his characters from most soft to most dom? 👀😛

I actually did this one before, but it’s been so long ago I think it deserves another take. 💖

Warnings: 18+, smut, this has multiple kinks in it so please heed the warnings - BDSM, Sub/Dom, Daddy Kink (August), bondage, denial, victorian patriarchy,  spanking, facial, cockwarming, exhibition, degradation, DP, anal, bodily fluids, CNC, role play, striptease, oral, overstimulation, power play, primal play, chasing.  

Characters: Sherlock Holmes, August Walker, Captain Syverson, Walter Marshall, Geralt of Rivia.

A/N: These are all based on my imagination and how I see these characters, nothing is canon. It’s all in good fun. :)

For Sherlock, it's all about discipline. Baby's got a touch of hysteria? No worries, he will be more than thrilled to “re-educate” you. 

Among his favourite forms of punishment you may find:

Spanking, paddling and caning - naughty girls get their asses spanked -  be a bad a girl and Sherlock will have tummy-flat on his lap, spanking your ass sore. “Allow me to show you your place,” he chides, squeezing your overwhelmingly sensitive flesh.

Bondage and Denial - Sherlock loves to experiment and enjoys testing your limits. “Let’s see how long can you go until you break and beg?” Tying you to his bed, he will either slip a dildo or his cock inside you, but then instead of fucking you as you’d desire, he’d restrict you from friction and have you throb and squeal and whimper for more.

Cockwarming - speaking of which, cockwarming is definitely one of Sherlock’s favourite things. A nice day at the park, you say? It will be nicer with you wrapped around his cock while people pass by, never knowing how deep he is buried inside your cunt.

Exhibition - It's not about getting caught as much as it's about him taking you whenever he wants, wherever he wants. After all, you are his little plaything to use as he sees fits.

Anal play - it’s a complete taboo, but mother nature gave you two holes for a reason, and Sherlock is more than curious to find out what it feels like to have that puckered hole stretched around his shaft and to fill it with his cum.  

Walter has a dirty little secret, one that he only shared with you. He likes it rough, always had and has been a proud member of the BDSM community for years now.

Bondage - He is an absolute Dom and wouldn't be open to switching. If anything entices him, it's to have you restrained to his bed, all stripped from clothes and power. Luckily, having a police career comes with a free pair of handcuffs. But Walter also likes to get creative, and he went out of his way to install a special headboard with various types of cuffs and chains.

CNC - Nothing like roleplay to spice up your sex life. Whether you are playing a dirty little slut getting arrested or the damsel in distress who owes the big bad cop a thanks. But Walter’s favourite game is when you pretend to not want it. Fight him as much as you want, we both know how it’s going to end. 

Degradation - You will never forget the day you walked home to have Walter put a collar with a chain around your neck. "Get down on your knees," he demanded and as you did he led you to the bedroom where he fucked your face like the dirty little slut you are.

Overstimulation - His coarse beard between your thighs is enough to make you whimper, but that won’t do for Walter. Oh no. What he really wants is to reduce you to a puddle as he eats you out as if the devil is at the door. He won’t stop until you are trembling, shaky thing, relishing in the fact that he has that much power over you.  (Based on a story collab with @wolvesandhoundshowltogether)

Don't be fooled by August's harsh demeanour. Yes he is a killing machine and while he loves to be in charge and can be extremely hard, he also has quite the soft Dom tendencies.

Daddy / Princess dynamics - you are his little princess, the woman he will protect and burn worlds to a cinder if needs be. He loves to buy you pretty dresses and dress you in angelic lingerie. All he wants in return is your devotion and that you will call him daddy. 

Corruption Kink - you are far from being a virgin, but August loves to pretend that you are the purest thing that he gets to defile. Storming into the bedroom, he rips your pretty little dress and your lingerie and fucks each of your holes while he is still in his suit. 

Facial - speaking of defilement, after having you come around his cock, he sometimes likes to pull out and pump himself as he crouched above you. With a grunt, he comes and spills his warm creamy seed all over your face and breasts. “A lovely pearl necklace for my beautiful princess.” 

Breathplay - What says control more than sustaining the air from your lungs? Having you sit on his monstrous cock, he makes you ride him while his fingers are wrapped around your throat. “Come if you want to breathe,” he commands and watches how you forgo your survival instincts for the sake of pleasure.

Praise kink - you are his good girl, and he makes sure to remind you that whether in your daily routine or when he is balls deep inside you. “Good... good girl, such a good girl,” he praises as he watches you spiral into ecstasy.

Aftercare - a good Dom takes aftercare seriously, and August happens to treat him with great responsibility. He keeps a box right next to his bed with essentials such as lotions, oils and everything you may need to feel safe. The first thing he does is check your vitals and press you against his chest, so you will feel protected in his big arms. Then later, once you manage to speak again, he runs a warm bubble bath and carries you to the bathroom, where he bathes and snuggles you for as long as you need. 

For Geralt it’s not about being in charge as much as it’s about the laws of nature. That being said, he wouldn’t mind you assuming control, if you manage to overpower him ;)

Primal Play - Scratching, biting, fighting for control. Geralt can smell your arousal from miles away, and once those intoxicating pheromones hit his nose, he is no better than the monsters he seeks to hunt. Led by one primal instinct to conquer, he tackles you down to the damp grass and tears the clothes right off of you.     

Chasing - Nothing like a good chase to get his blood pumping. Of course, you are no match to the stamina of a witcher, but he gives you a headstart, watching you scamper away like a tender gazelle. You can hide if you want to, but we all know how it will end...

Switching - if by some miracle you managed to outsmart him and gain your way to the top, he would let you have it, enjoying the sight of you riding him like a bloodthirsty succubus while he utters the most obscene profanities. 

Biting - Geralt is quite possessive, and nothing says “mine” more than leaving a mark on your skin. A bite on the neck or your breast would do; that way, when the next idiot stares down your cleavage, he can tell who you belong to. 

While some of his fellow soldiers like to be subbed, Sy is not one of them. Captain in the streets and a Captain between the sheets. 

Oral sex - Indeed, Sy became famous for his skilful tongue. Spreading your thighs, he will dive between them and feast on your peach until you cry for him to fuck you. Seeing you squirm so helpless and submerged in ecstasy, losing all control, is the one thing that gets him off more than anything. Sometimes he would even eat you out while stroking his cock, and when he comes, he comes all over your swollen pussy. 

Stripping - good ol’ cowboy enjoys himself a lap dance. Sitting with a bottle of jack on a hot summer day, he loves to watch you as you seduce him and strip off your hot little outfit. Visibly hard, he adjusts his bulge in his jeans, grinning as you make your way to sit on his lap. He pours the whiskey down your bare breasts and then licks it off with a rumbling groan.  

Double penetration - give him full control and full access, and by that, I mean, let him fuck both your holes simultaneously. Having you on four, he slips a dildo inside your pussy, and then fucks your ass. You never felt so full and so tight in your life. You nearly come on an instant whenever you try it out. 

Auto-exhibition - it might just be that Sy enjoys a good home movie, and by home movie, I mean filming the two of you as you do the deed. There’s nothing like having something to watch later when he is deployed and far away from his baby girl.

Public teasing - Sy’s love language is touch, and sometimes he enjoys touching you when everyone is around. So don’t be surprised if you are having drinks with your friends at the bar when you suddenly feel his fingers sneaking below your skirt. 

[nifolution]

Forgive Me 1

Pairing: Steve Rogers / Mutant! Reader

Summary: Steve desperately wants to make everything better, but is it too little, too late?

Warnings: Angst, smut, heartbreak, jealousy, hostage situation, some fluff

A/N: This is a sequel to Dirty Secret. This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is still written in 1st & 3rd person. 18+ only due to smut. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated.

Dirty Secret Masterlist Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

Chapter 1

[2 months later]

Here we go again. Seeing the familiar figure quickly duck into the alley, Bucky can only shake his head as he leaves the restaurant with his order. Every time he left the compound, Steve tried to follow him, hoping he was on his way to meet Y/N.

After securing his meal to his motorcycle, Bucky called out to Steve, “You have to stop doing this, you're not good at it.” Steve appeared out of the shadows looking weary and dejected. It was clear he hadn't been taking care of himself. His clothes wrinkled, his beard untrimmed. Bucky turned to face him, “Besides that, it's pointless. Y/N isn't even in the country anymore.”

“So you do know where she is.”

Bucky exhaled sharply, “Steve…”

The blonde suddenly found his shoes fascinating. “I need her back, Buck… I can’t believe I screwed up so badly, losing her the way I did. It still feels like a bad dream. I wish to god it was. She belongs in my arms and I don’t think I'll ever know what possessed me to push her out of them.”

“You have no one to blame but yourself for that one. You dug your own grave and packed the dirt on too.” Bucky seated himself on his bike. “She deserved more than what you gave her. It shouldn't have taken losing her for you to get over your Carter obsession.”

Steve could only nod, giving his friend a broken look. “I'll see you at home.” He turned and started back the way he came.

Bucky wasn’t sure what else to say to his friend. Things were still tense between them. Both for how Steve treated Y/N, and for shutting him out the way he did. The punk got stuck in his own head and refused help. His stubbornness was always his downfall. If he would have just talked to him, maybe he could have gotten through his thick skull earlier, before Steve destroyed everything.

Y/N’s absence was felt heavily among the team. They all missed her. Not just her getaway skills, but her friendship. She was always kind to everyone, always willing to be there, helping anyway she could. She cared for all of them and that love was missed. None of the others knew the real reason for her sudden departure. It was a hard secret to keep, but Bucky continued at her request. She didn't want any of them to look at Steve differently. After everything he put her through, she still wanted what was best for Steve. And Steve, well Steve thought Y/N was what was best for him. If only he pulled his head out of his ass sooner.

Still, Bucky couldn't help pitying his friend. He hated seeing Steve hurting so badly, but it was the punk’s own dumb actions that caused this mess. Steve was his brother, but he fucked up. Maybe some pain was due. Steve had been sullen and isolating himself since Y/N left. He hasn’t spent much time training or with the team. Bucky knows he wasn’t sleeping well because he can hear him crying most nights. He wasn’t going to bring it up though, Steve has been blowing up over small things lately. He didn’t want to tip him over that edge of grief he was precariously balanced on.

---------------

The weeks passing did nothing to dampen the all consuming regret Steve felt. Forgoing his morning runs, he would just lay there staring at the ceiling. Tired and drained. If anyone on the team noticed, no one said anything. He was grateful for that much. Steve was certain he’d spill the whole thing with the smallest provocation. He preferred to keep his anguish to himself. His bed felt so cold without her in it. His whole life felt cold now. As he did so many times before, Steve pulled out a yellow garment from inside his pillowcase. It was the dress Y/N left behind. Blood stains now accompanying the grass ones from Steve kissing it after Bucky beat his face in. Steve held tightly to the fabric, imagining Y/N in his arms, her lips on his, willing his heart to stop beating so it would stop hurting.

He thinks of the last time he saw her. How stunning she looked, outshining everyone at the gala. But she was on Bucky's arm, not his as she should have been. Steve wishes he would have ran up to her like he wanted to. He would have swept her off her feet, kissed her breathless and danced the night away. Instead he forced himself to pay attention to Sharon, feeling a misplaced responsibility to her. That night played on repeat in his mind. He should have done so many things. He fucked up so bad.

---------------

Steve had been looking for Y/N since she left. Four months later and still no lock on her. She was like a ghost. Steve would constantly beg Bucky to tell him where she was. He had yet to budge. Only confirming that she was doing okay. Bucky was torn between friends. Him and Steve were getting back to a good place in the friendship. He wanted to help, but didn’t want to break Y/N’s confidence. Although his resolve on the matter was slowly chipping away.

When Steve loved he loved hard, and permanently. Bucky could only do so much to comfort his friend. He still had trouble understanding why Steve gave into Sharon. Why even for a moment he thought he was doing the right thing. But his friend was stubborn, and dumb enough to think he could have both. That Y/N would always be there. Steve lost someone special chasing after someone he thought he once wanted. So trapped in his nostalgia to not realize what he had until it was gone. At least he saw now that he had been taking her for granted. Should have appreciated what he had enough to not betray her the way he did. However unintentional he claimed it was. Y/N didn't deserve that pain.

Bucky remained close with Y/N. She seemed better each time he talked with her. She'd been traveling the world, site seeing. Her abilities saved her a fortune in transportation and entrance fees. Hotel rooms and meals too. She'd been staying at the best hotels for free. Orbing into empty rooms and raiding the well stocked mini bars. Bucky’s stayed with her a few times. Both willing to overlook the moral ambiguity of their actions.

“Please Buck, I need to find her.”

“You can't fix everything, Steve. She doesn’t want to be found. You're bullheaded, but you must realize that by now.” Bucky was tired of having this same conversation again and again. Steve wasn’t going to give up.

“I have to try. Even if there is just the slimmest chance, I have to try.”

Bucky gave in. Walking over to the map on the wall and pointing to her last known location. The rest was up to Steve.

Steve practically jumped out of his chair. “Thank you Bucky… I promise I’m going to get my girl back.”

Within hours he arrived at his destination. It saddened him that she went to Paris alone. They were supposed to go together. He searched for her high and low, but was too late, only catching a glimpse of her. He blinked and she was gone. She moved too fast.

Steve returned to the compound, heartbroken. It wasn’t yet 3am, but he knew he wouldn’t sleep. So he decided to go for a run. He kept running till the sun came up. After passing out in bed from exhaustion, Steve awoke prepared to try to move forward. He resumed his regular routine, running on autopilot, just trying to get by. In the day he could almost convince himself he was healed. Nighttime was another story entirely. The pain bloomed anew each time he lay in his lonely and vacant bed. He'd close his eyes, knowing too well it was his own damn fault.

Chapter 2

[finelinevogue]

ok but moustache harry eating you out though

hell-fucking-o ;);)

Harry with his moustache was your weakness.

To some he looked like a truck driver, to others he looked like a dilf and to you he just looked like the fucking hottest man to exist.

You loved how unkept his moustache was, but how he designated a portion of his daily routine especially for cleaning it and making sure it was food and grease free. The moustache evolved into a beard too, so his lower face was entirely covered with bristly hair that even he found itchy sometimes. But it was a sight for sore eyes. Your insides yearned for him at every ticking moment of the day, when he sported his moustache.

Unfortunately, it now had to go. Harry is soon to be working on a Gucci perfume advert and therefore the facial hair needs to disappear. As much as you loved the facial hair, Mr Gucci did not. He liked his models clean shaven and exposed, whereas you liked your man rugged and rough. You were sad to see the moustache go, because you loved it so much, but you couldn’t quite be sad in this moment for it when all you could feel was it brush against your clit as Harry ate you out deep.

Harry had told you he was going to shave it now, but before he could get anywhere you had jumped him and ordered him to put it to use one final time. Who was he to say no to that?

“Harry fuck!” You screamed out, your toes curling beneath you as Harry continued to flick his tongue over your folds at a fast pace.

The room was ridiculously hot, both your bodies sweating in a tangled mess. Harry pressed your body firmly down, whilst he situated your legs around his head - trapping him to the spot he desired so much. He kept your hips pressed down with one arm and the other was being used to pump his fingers, unforgivingly, into you. You weren’t able to focus on anything apart from the fact you couldn’t focus on anything. From Harry’s mouth and fingers to his words and yours, sent you higher than cloud 9. You were high on euphoria and didn’t want to come down anytime soon.

Your fingers tugged against Harry’s curls which made him moan and send vibrations all over your cunt and through your heat. The sounds that filled the room were unholy and wet. His tongue persistently lapped at your folds, using his fingers to reach the spots inside of you his tongue couldn’t reach. His tongue felt so good and his fingers even better.

But goddamn that moustache.

All you could feel was the tickle of prickly hair rubbing against your oh so sensitive clit and brushed it as he moved his face. His movements were so wild and quick that each time he moved let you feel his moustache. Each time he moved a different direction your cunt caught against the hairs and dragged against your skin, causing you to moan out in pleasure. Harry knew exactly what he was doing. He was filthy and you absolutely loved it.

His fingers pumped harder, curling to reach your favourite and most receptive spots and his tongue moved faster as you began to reach your high. It didn’t take much for him, with the moustache, to bring you to your release and Harry prided himself off of that fact. He loved when his moustache got coated in your juices and he could taste it hours later, where he hadn’t quite cleaned himself properly. It was tormenting in a way though, because one taste of you had him on his knees begging for more - he wouldn’t even care if you were beyond spent.

He pulled away to look up at you and you felt his hot breathe fan against your even hotter cunt. Your breathing was hard and only increased when you saw the state of Harry. He looked so primal and lustful. He was a different man right now - one full of dominance and sexual frustration. He kept straight eye contact with you as his moustache glistened with a coating of you. His eyes remained locked to yours as he ran his tongue over his lips and upper moustache hairs, tasting you without being face deep in you. You groaned at the sight, before deciding you wanted in on the action too.

Leaning up and forwards you smashed your lips on to Harrys, moaning as you rested yourself along with him. It was divine. A fulfilling pleasure that was so small and yet so intimate. His bristly hairs tickled your upper lips and you hummed at the sensual sensation. He pulled away when he realised you were enjoying this too much, not wanting to distract himself, or you, from giving you the release you so deserved.

“Can have my lips after i’ve devoured you, baby.” He kissed your lips once more and then pushed you back down and reattached himself to your soaking pussy. You cried out at the contact, not believing you ever thought you’d be able to go without the feeling. Nothing would ever compare to this. To him.

“Harry!” You moaned his name in pleasure and returned your hands to his hair, pushing him further into you.

His tongue moved inside of your folds in angles you never knew existed, making your toes curl and your tummy flutter with excitement. You felt your release so close. His fingers entered - one, two, three - and found the right pace to have you completely defenceless below him. You were his to toy and play with, that much Harry knew. Like this you were a surrendered body to him, allowing him to tease and pleasure you how he’d like to - with the trust that you’d stop him if he went too far.

“You gonna come for me baby angel?” He rhetorically asked, knowing you were only a few more pumps away from your release.

“Yes, yes just for you.” You gasped as he quickened the pace of his fingers and designated his attention to your pulsing clit.

“Come on then. I won’t tell you twice.” The way the hairs of his moustache moved from his words against your clit sent you over the edge.

The fucking moustache.

You arched your back and screamed out as he kept pumping his fingers through your release. You grasped onto your breast, needing something to release your frustration into. God you felt unholy and dirty. You felt fucking amazing. Your breathing was laboured and Harry spent the rest of your high lapping your folds and around your cunt, drinking up every last drop of your release. He couldn’t get enough of you. He would never.

“Can you kiss me now?” You quietly asked and you felt his presence suddenly hover above you, his moustache absolutely covered with your juices. He wore them with pride. He raised his eyebrows at you, hovering just above your lips. “Please?” You stressed and who was Harry to deny that pouting face of yours. Who was he to deny you his moustache?

[buckyownsmylife]

Just One - John Winchester smut

The one where John has been obsessed with killing you but now that he found you...

Warnings: smut, as close to hatefucking as I can write, witch!reader, masturbation (f), oral (m, f), dirty talk, degradation laced with praise?, hairpulling kink, namecalling (bitch, whore), John wants it to hurt, slight size kink (blink and you’ll miss), p in v, spanking, biting, unprotected sex, cumplay, unspecified age gap

Word count: 2.2k

A/N:  This one is a part of my kinktober celebrations. My original intention for this October was to work exclusively around prompts that my wonderful friend @darkficsyouneveraskedfor created for her challenge and dedicate each story to a different friend. My new plan became then 31 days of different kinks, which expanded on a poly relationship with Stucky, as you might know by now. However, some of the stories I started were already truly loved by me, and so I kept on writing them. It worked well because as it turns out, I am fortunate enough to have more than 31 friends on Tumblr, so here is the story I wrote for @negans-attagirl​. This most likely celebrates my last time writing for John! Special thanks to my @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ for reading this even though she’s not really into Supernatural! I love you for it!

I knew he was there. Watching. I’d been running away from him for so long, it felt like second nature now - to look over my shoulder, hold my breath when a stranger got too close. Watch the shadows and see if they took the form of a well-built man who wanted nothing more than to see me dead.

But I didn’t just wait around for my inevitable ending, oh no. I’d studied him just as much as he did to me, prepared myself for what was to come as I fled the state and traveled borders in the hopes of throwing him off. I concocted potions and spells and thought about everything I could do to him whenever he found me again.

Most of all, I thought of him. How could I not? Not only was he my main concern in this life, but the man was just walking sin. And if I were to go down, I was determined to at least go down on him before he killed me.

So I slowly left the diner across from the motel I’d been hiding in for the last three weeks and returned to my room, making sure to leave the door unlocked while I took off my clothes. The sound of the door closing behind me wasn’t unmistakable, and we both knew that. “Feel like joining me?” I asked as I sat down on the bed and spread my legs for his eyes, my hand traveling down my body, playing with my nipples before settling between my thighs. He didn’t look confused, not even for a moment.

This sexual tension between us, it’d never been one-sided. It was there from the beginning, electrifying our interactions as desire swirled in the air around us. I was convinced it was the main reason why he couldn’t just let me go.

He leaned his head to the side, but didn’t say anything. He was too focused on what I was doing, the way my fingers rubbed my clit before dipping inside my hole only to come back up wetter, the sounds of my actions filling the air around us.

“I don’t see why not.” The words sent a thrill up my spine, and without even stopping to consider what I was doing, I dropped to my knees before him, reaching out for his jeans. “Can’t let you get off all by yourself.”

I hummed appreciatively as I stuck out my tongue to lick the red head of his cock, already intoxicated with his taste. “Such a gentleman… even when you’re planning to kill me.” His chuckle was like thunder, reverberating through me and making my clit throb as I wrapped my lips around his member.

“It would be a waste if I didn’t put this pretty mouth to work.” His thumb brushed against my lower lip until I licked it and enveloped it with my mouth, making him groan. “So fucking warm. I’m gonna enjoy filling this hole with my cock.”

His words had me clenching around nothing, the overwhelming wetness that dripped from me now slathering the inside of my thighs, no doubt reaching the floor. It made me desperate to please him, desperate to fill my mouth with his cock.

So I wrapped my lips around the head of his member and began sucking, at first looking up to see his darkened, lust-filled eyes before actually closing mine to fully appreciate his taste, the weight of him on my tongue.

I licked every single inch of his skin until my saliva coated his member. It was a beautiful cock, a cock that deserved to be worshiped. I wasn’t one to enjoy being on my knees too much, but his thickness was just too tempting. I needed to pay it the proper respects.

So I took him as well as I could, ignoring the way tears rose to my eyes as I willingly choked myself on his cock, trying my best to breathe through my nose in an effort to reach his navel.

I wasn’t able to. But he didn’t seem to mind, hand wrapped around my hair, forcing my movements as I slobbered all over his dick. “Such a good little cocksucker…” he absentmindedly commented, almost to himself.

“Were you expecting me?” I looked up to see him looking down at me, actually waiting for an answer. So I pulled away, wiped the spit from my jaw before replying honestly, “Always.”

Because, well… How could I sleep peacefully without thinking about the man who wanted to kill me?

But his answer was a chuckle and an almost condescending head pat, his deep warm voice making me even wetter when he complimented, “Good girl.” God, he could kill me right now. I’d go willingly and happily.

I eagerly sucked him off a bit longer, losing myself in the almost-sounds that I could pick up from his body: the little groans and pants, the way he cleared his throat instead of growling his desire for me. He wouldn’t give in, wouldn’t show his satisfaction to a little witch.

I could live with that.

“Stop that.” His words were accompanied by a harsh tug on my hair, pulling me up until I was standing on my tip toes, my face mere inches from his. “Wanna fuck you now. I can kill you tomorrow.”

The fact that he never kissed me didn’t escape me. This was a quick fuck, it would not be mistaken as anything else. Still, that didn’t mean I wouldn’t drag as much fun out of it as I possibly could… especially considering these might very well be my last hours of living.

“So you want me?” I questioned, smirking at his answering huff. He didn’t want to admit it, of course - that would be recognizing I had some sort of power over him. So he opted to tighten his grip on my hair until I moaned from the pleasurable pain, eyes sparkling in their darkness as he took in just how desperate I was for him.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he settled for saying as I laughed. “Always a fucking tease. Is your cunt as bitter as your soul, brat?” I bit my lip as he threw me on the bed, already anticipating his next move.

“Find out for yourself.” His expression made it clear that he was doubtful when he tore off my underwear and threw the scraps of it over his shoulder, pulling me to the edge of the bed by my ankles without much care.

He pressed on the inside of my thighs to keep my legs spread for him, and when his tongue licked a line up my cunt, I clenched around nothing, eyes closing for just a second to relish in the barely-there sensation.

“Oh, fuck…” His voice was barely over a whisper, but I still heard it and when I opened my eyes to look at him, he was staring directly at his meal, like he couldn’t believe what he had just tasted. “So fucking sweet…”

He went back there with a newfound hunger, and although I knew he wasn’t doing this to make me cum, I also knew he would achieve that - easily. It didn’t take many of his long swipes over my hole, the twirls around my clit to make me gasp for him, hands flying down to pull on his hair.

I think the only reason he didn’t slap them away was because he seemed to like the slight sting I provided him.

“Fucking cum, bitch,” he growled at some point, surprising me until he revealed why it was that he wanted me to orgasm. “I want to drink all of your essence before I shove my cock into you, make sure it’ll really sting.”

But I knew it was more than that - I knew he wanted more of my taste. It was everywhere now, dripping from his beard, smearing the inside of my thighs, but he kept his eyes focused on me, waiting for my breaking point.

I saw embers of flames when it arrived. Maybe it predicted my death at the stake, but I couldn’t mind it. Not when John was rising to his full height and very easily turning me around to lay on my stomach, keeping my legs dangling off the edge of the bed when he kicked them apart.

I was trapped under his much larger body and I didn’t mind it at all. He shoved my face against the bed, like he didn’t want to see it as he slowly started to stretch me out.

I bit my lower lip as I struggled to adjust around his thickness, and by the sounds John was releasing, I could see he was just as overwhelmed by me and the pussy he wanted to destroy.

I couldn’t believe how good it felt to be ravished by John Winchester. No one had ever fucked me like this before, and I was sure he knew, with the melodic moans that kept slipping from my lips, try as I might to reel them in.

“Those fucking sounds…” He groaned behind me, seconds before his hand landed harshly on the right cheek of my ass, making me whine even louder. “You’re a filthy little whore, aren’t you?”

I was too far gone to even try to deny it, fucking myself back against his delicious thick cock, desperate to cum again, this time feeling completely full of him.

“Who would have thought…” He panted, hips maintaining their onslaught against me. “Nasty fucking witch, such a tight little pussy.” Each word was accompanied by a particularly brutal thrust and I relished in it. I relished in witnessing the great John Winchester get carried away because of my body.

“Fuck,” he cursed after he managed to locate my sweet spot, which in turn had me instinctively clenching around him. “Why do you feel so fucking good?”

Under him, I just giggled, my hand easily locating the spot above where we were connected so I could rub myself to an orgasm. “I’m convinced you’re the devil, little witch.”

Stifling a laugh, I started to move my hips back so I could fuck myself on him, showing him how I liked to be treated - even harder and rougher than he was already treating me. And because I really was a brat, I couldn’t help but taunt, “Do you feel sorry you have to destroy it?”

I knew he understood I was referring to my pussy, and when his hand slapped mine away so he could take over the motions over my clit, I closed my eyes to let bliss take me.

“Almost,” he grunted, a confession I almost lost in the fog of my high. But here lied an opportunity, and I wasn’t about to let it slip away without a fight.

“I mean… you could just keep it,” I offered, barely over a whisper so as not to anger the man who kept fucking me. I didn’t want him to stop his movements, so I hoped even if he did get pissed at my suggestion, he’d just take it out on me. “Use it whenever you want.”

I didn’t get a response from him - at least, not verbally. But he did speed up his movements, pounding me so hard the bed started to hit the wall and I knew we were seconds away from having the neighbors banging on it, telling us to keep it down, but I couldn’t care less.

Not when John was burying his face in the crook of my neck, beard tickling me as he bit on my shoulder to keep his roar from reverberating in the room when he shot his cum deep inside of me.

He didn’t wait even a second before pulling out. I missed his weight on top of me, but the feeling of his cum slowly slipping from my used pussy was enough to give me some comfort.

“Shit, I really opened you up, huh?” He chuckled, rubbing his cream around my hole before pushing it back into me, making me whine. “I’m still fucking hard. Did you put a spell on me, brat?”

I laughed as he massaged my ass, apparently incapable of fully retreating his touch from my skin. “Is that why I’m still aroused?” He insisted, rutting his very much, still hard member against my thigh. “Tell me.”

Stretching, I giggled at his silly accusation. “I think I just turn you on, old man,” I teased, wiggling my ass at him. He took the bait and spanked it, before I felt his weight leave the bed altogether.

“Well, I’m going to take a shower, wash you off of me,” he explained, stopping at the door of the bathroom to stare at me. “You better be there when I come out,” he warned and I bit my lip, understanding exactly what he meant.

“I don’t think I can walk if I tried,” I giggled, but he just tipped his head back, humming noncommittally. Before long, I heard the shower turning on, the sound of the water running down the drain almost lulling me to sleep.

I made sure to leave my panties right next to the note I wrote for him to find when he got out of the shower. Three simple words, a promise: “Until next time”.

[iamtheshriekingguineapig]

Hey Guineapig! Have you filled the character ask game for Nero or Credo yet? If not, I’d love to get your insights on either or both of them, take your pick :)

Oh my word I am unreasonably excited for this. And I absolutely will do both.

Ok, so, for Nero

Favorite thing: I have a thing for the "grumpy yet soft" characters. I love how Nero has an edge to him but we also get to see that he is an absolute sweetheart too- he looks out for Kyrie and his friends, and he practically carries V in 5. Also, we get to see him legitimately cry in 4 and men should be able to cry more in videogames. Idk I just love Nero immensely, he is my favorite character in this series.

Least Favorite thing: by that same coin; Nero, homie, we know that you care about people. You don’t have to be so aloof and deny it. Don't turn out like your father. I feel like we see Nero- mostly in the beginning of 4- have this "I don't care about most other people" attitude, and he needs to cut that shit out. Embrace the finer parts of humanity, you punk.

Favorite Line: THERE ARE SO MANY GOOD ONES it is hard to pick. He's a sassy little punk that likes to play with his food like Dante. "You do parties?" Is hilarious, but I think my favorite is still "I'M NOT LETTING YOU DIE". Super dramatic, 10/10

BrOTP: Nero and V. Nero was V's first (human) friend. I love getting to see Nero interact and fight alongside the more human part of Vergil. It's like Dadgil but brow.

OTP: Him and fanon!Kyrie. Kyrie in Canon is essentially what we call a "sexy lamp". The writers did her So. Dirty. And essentially made her a plot device for Nero and not a character at all. But Fanon Interpretations of Kyrie are ✨golden✨ and I am MORE THAN THRILLED to recommend some fics where Kyrie characterization is both interesting and on point. Nero deserves a partner that isn't a lamp.

nOTP: Nero/V. Just... no. It's a little too close to Spardacest for my comfort and also it's just so much better platonic in my mind. I just do not like it.

Random Headcannon: he's allergic to strawberries. I literally got that from one single fic-writer and I kept it. Their username is escaping me right now, I'll have to put it in the replies later. (They have some great Nero/Kyrie fic)

Unpopular opinion: Nero is my favorite. I like him better than Dante. This seems to be a popular opinion amongst newer players and fans of the games (like myself) and unpopular with some of the older crowd.

Song I associate with them: You're Going Down by Sickpuppies

Favorite picture: I own this poster, it was a Christmas gift a couple years ago from Avaantares

Okay! Now Credo!

Favorite thing about them: Credo is an honorable guy. He is willing to apologize and make amends for his mistakes; he genuinely cares about the people around him; he is responsible and kind. I love Paladin Man

Least Favorite thing: *deep breath* okay. In almost all of game four, he seems like a jerk. We don't get to see a lot of the good parts of Credo in game up until "the end". In fact, I could not stand him throughout most of the game, grew to like him in a single moment when he was trying to protect Nero, and then Sanctus had THE AUDACITY TO KILL HIM BEFORE WE GOT A PROPER REDEMPTION ARC!!! I AM STILL MAD!!! It is in sources outside dmc4 that we truly get to see what kind of person Credo was and I'm heartbroken that that is not the person we get to experience in most of 4. Also I hate his stupid beard don't tell him

Favorite Line: "I am an ANGEL!" No you're not, you're a dumbass babe but I still love you.

BrOTP: he and Nero!!! I am a SUCKER for brother relationships in fiction and I love how much Credo loves Nero and looks out for him and I can just imagine them laughing together and I just have a lot of feels okay.

OTP: pretty sure most of my mutuals know this by now but I have an OC that I pair with Credo. Yeah, cringe, boring, whatever- don't care. I like the idea of Credo being with someone that challenges him everyday; whether that be by pushing him to be better, challenging his preconceived notions about people and the world, or whatever. I put our Stoic Lawful Paladin with a Chaotic Feral Bard and have just about zero regrets with it.

nOTP: Credo/Dante. I don't get it, I don't see the appeal. I guess it works for my same "opposites attract" thing I have going with my OTP but... idk man I'm not feeling it. To each their own though.

Random Headcannon: Credo is dyslexic. I've said it before and I have nothing in Canon to back me up but I will hold onto it staunchly until the day I die. Audiobooks and a secretary who will read paperwork out loud to him are assets to this man. Also the "secretary" may be his cute wife reading him reports while they sit on the porch drinking their morning coffee idk it all works out in the end.

Unpopular Opinion: yes, I am fully aware that a lot of Nero's character development in 5 hinges off of Credo dying in 4. I also am fully aware that I am unhinged and I refuse to acknowledge that he is dead in Canon. I will literally forget occasionally because I am that deep into my own bullshit.

Song I associate with them: Angel With A Shotgun by The Cab is my quintessential Credo song

Favorite picture: this one by Duckydrawsart! I love how casual and relaxed he looks and that he is alive and well with his friends! Also his beard doesn't look as stupid

[donutloverxo]

Just for Mrs Barber

Note - Written for @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes and @amythedvdhoarder 's hoelentine's fic swap challenge! My giftee was the beautiful @kaminorogers . I hope you all like it.

Shoutout to beard kinks resident hoe @sweater-daddiesdumbdork for all her help with this and to my dear friend lizzygal (link to ao3) for the beta.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers.

Summary - Your husband buys you kinky gifts (and a whole ass house) for your anniversary/valentines.

Warnings - 18+ only please! Explicit sexual content, beard kink, bondage, blindfold, dom!Andy.

Pairing - Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 2.6k

You were sure you heard Linda say something, her voice was mixed up in the background noise of everyone chatting and some music. You couldn’t really listen, not when your husband decided that he was going to look that good and distract you, keeping you from being a good hostess.

Andy always looked good. He could roll out of bed and look good enough to eat—although maybe you were a bit biased. He was one of those people who just didn’t realize how handsome he was.

Maybe he had some sort of eyesight problem, because looking at him now. With his hair made up and beard neatly trimmed, wearing a cream sweater and some dark jeans, the whole ensemble was so basic but he pulled it off so well. His pink lips looked so delicious as they sipped on a beer.

“Mrs Barber.”

You gasped when you heard Linda call out to you, clearing your throat you looked back at her. “Yes?”

“I love what you’ve done with the house, it’s so beautiful.”

A genuine smile graced your face as you thanked her. Andy had asked you what you wanted for your first wedding anniversary, you nonchalantly told him that you wanted the most picture perfect and cosy house in the suburbs. That you were too tired of the noise and pollution of the city and longed to have a garden of your own.

Also, a bigger house would be much better if you ever have any youngins. But you didn’t tell him that. Not yet.

You were just being yourself--kind of a spoilt brat. Which shouldn’t have surprised him because he was the one to spoil you with his love and affection and the occasional material gifts.

You absolutely did not expect him to actually buy you a big ass house. It wasn’t too big if you thought about it. Just a master and two smaller bedrooms, which was what you preferred. You didn’t want to have any distance from your husband. Be it physical or emotional.

The backyard was most spacious. You could probably fit a beautiful gazebo there. But you planned on growing your own vegetables and make delicious meals as a thank you to Andy everyday for the rest of your lives. You had put your heart into decorating every single nook and cranny of the house. Having it be appreciated was most flattering.

“Thank you,” you smiled.

“Your husband is so handsome,” she observed and you only hummed as you looked over at him. He most definitely was. “And he helped you with cooking and setting up.”

“Yes, he did. He always helps. He isn’t one for parties but he indulged me by letting me throw this one,” you told her.

Andy wasn’t that enthusiastic about hosting a barbeque for neighbors who were basically still strangers for your anniversary/valentines. He preferred to have you to himself but with some kisses and cuddles, batting your brand-new eyelash extensions, and convincing he finally gave in.

“Mrs Barber,” Linda grinned, putting her hand on your elbow, “You’re drooling.”

“Oh, I am?” you quickly looked over at her, after admiring how perfect your husband’s ass looked in those damn jeans.

“That’s alright, I promise I won’t tell,” she winked, “you’re both so cute.”

You were gushing some more about Andy, how amazing he was and how the honeymoon phase never seemed to end for you both. But you straightened up when you saw him approaching you.

“Honey,” he said, “We’re out of ice.”

“Oh, I thought we had enough... I’m sure we could do without it,” you shrugged.

Andy snaked a hand around your waist, sipping on his beer as he looked down at you, so much more comfortable by your side. He frowned when he heard the guys calling for him, reluctant to leave your side but you nudged him and told him to go socialise.

“I’ll make it worth your while, later tonight,” you whispered to him.

He pressed his lips to your temple, the scratch of his beard against your skin making you gasp. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said against your face which was heating up by his uncharacteristic public display of affection.

After cleaning up you were finally getting ready for bed. Wiping your make up before taking your diamond studs off.

“We made so many friends too,” you wondered out loud. “It was a success in my book! I hope I was a good hostess.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you were. Come here now.” You saw him in your dressing tables mirror, extending an arm to you and inviting you to him.

“Um, well, maybe give me a moment,” you stammered, heat creeping up your neck as you scurried off to the bathroom while he called out for you.

He frowned, you never had any problem changing clothes in front of him or being naked and in so many compromising positions before him, so why now?

“Honey, I appreciate this, I really do, but.. maybe we can just do something else,” he told you, holding onto your hand which was massaging his shoulder and kissing your knuckles. He thought it was nice of you to offer a back rub, after the day he had had he needed it, but he wanted something more than that... “I’m hungry,” he licked his lips.

“I can cook something up for you, a post-dinner snack maybe,” you offered.

“No baby,” he chuckled, “Hungry for YOU.”

He kissed the crook of your neck, sucking on a spot he knew drove you wild but then frowned when he didn’t get the reaction he desired from you, in fact you felt a little... stiff.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he looked into your eyes.

“I was actually wondering if we could try something new...”

“Like what?” he pouted. He was a bit concerned, whenever you both had tried something new, it didn’t really go well.

There was that time you slipped and sprained your ankle during a very taxing session in the shower, when you surprised him at his office but then you were caught by his assistant—to this day he still can’t look her in the eye, when you insisted on tying him up but he ended up breaking free of the cuffs and spending the night ravaging you instead.

His unenthusiastic response was clearly not what you wanted as you blinked, disappointed evident on your face, “Nothing,” you shook your head, “now, where were we?” a salacious grin on your lips.

He hadn’t really tried to press on to see what your new suggestion was. He knew he wasn’t the most interesting man in the world. He wasn’t always as easy going as you were. How he even managed to get someone like you was something he could never comprehend.

“Are you ready for your surprise, baby,” came your voice from the master bathroom, “Here I come.”

You twirled before him, showing off your brand new fiery red babydoll. Which cost a pretty penny since it was the season of love.

“Whoa, you look gorgeous... what did I ever do to deserve you...” he wondered as his gaze raked you over.

“It’s actually the other way around,” you waved him off, climbing on the bed, “It’s time for your gift, Mr Barber.”

You took the book he was reading from his hands, setting it beside him and he hummed as you kissed his cheek.

“Actually...” he held onto the curve of your hips, squeezing just a little bit.

“Hm?”

“I have a surprise for you, sweetheart.”

That got your attention. You pulled away from his face, your soft lips still tingling from the coarseness of the hair on his face. “Oh?” Your heart fluttering in excitement. “You didn’t have to. You already bought us a home...” You said in a small voice, your fingers playing with the collar of his t-shirt.

“Oh, believe me, honey, it’s not just for you,” he smirked.

You watched, your fingers drumming along your bare thigh in anticipation as he went through his dresser.

“Since you want to try new things,” he said with his back to you, pulling something out of the dresser, “I figured this might be the perfect opportunity.”

You gasped when you saw, what looked like was a red silk tie and a dark blindfold.

“Wow.” Was all you could say. You had tried to get Andy to watch fifty shades with you and while he didn’t really say it, you knew that he wasn’t really into the movie or the kinky sex. He could barely stay down when you used cute pink fluffy handcuffs on him.

“I hope you can be a good girl for me,” his eyes dark as he stalked towards you, “and stay still. You never do... I always have to hold you down so this should make things easier... hands,” he commanded, his authoritative tone leaving no room for disobedience, as you held your hands out for him, gulping a lump of air and watching his hands tie an intricate knot around your wrists.

“It’s soft...” You wiggled your wrists testing the ties strength.

“Of course it is, I want you to be comfortable, princess,” he kissed your forehead, smoothing a hand over your scalp, he looked at the blindfold and then at you, “It’ll be kinda hard for me to not look into your eyes,” his brow furrowed as he put the blindfold over your head, the elastic stretching and then settling behind your ears till you all you could see was black, “Let me know if you need me to stop... or if you need anything.”

“Yes,” you nodded, pouting when you heard him pulling his tshirt off. You were so excited about the dirty sex that you didn’t even think about this--not being able to see Andy naked. You were about to whine about it but he pushed you back till you were lying on the mattress.

“This is all so exciting...” you whispered, having no idea what he was doing or was about to do, if he was looking at you or elsewhere.

“I know, honey, now you just let me take care of you.” You nodded, shivering when you felt the coolness of his wedding band against your thigh, “Sorry baby, are my hands cold?”

“Just a bit...”

You heard him rubbing them together to heat them up for you, before he touched your inner thigh, parting your thighs to make room for him, he pushed your nightie up, exposing your breasts and stiff peaks to him, “So beautiful... and all for me.”

“All for you, Andy,” you tried to close your legs to rub them together, to create some friction to calm the heat between your legs but his hold on you wouldn’t leave you any room to move.

“You need something, honey? You’ll have to use your words to tell me.”

You huffed, although you couldn’t see him you just knew he had a shit eating grin on his face. “Want you to make love to me, Andy,” you fessed up anyway.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing though. This is how I make love, honey,” you gasped as you felt his warm mouth latching on your nipple, his leaking manhood on your thigh.

“Oh...” you tried to arch your back, to pushed more of you into him.

He released your nipple with a pop, “You like that?”

He had never seen you like this, never knew he wanted you like this--so helpless and completely at his mercy. Writhing under him and craving him so badly, snaking a hand between your legs, “You’re so wet, honey,” he observed as he spread your slick around your lips, pulling a desperate whimper from you.

He sucked his fingers clean, you tasted so sweet, like honey.

He pinned your tied hands above your head when you tried to raise them to touch him, “No baby, you know the rules for tonight. I thought you wanted to be my good girl.”

“I do!” you whimpered again, your body shaking and writhing in his hold.

His poor girl, he knew how hard it must be for you. How you were obsessed with his beard. Sometimes He wondered if you loved it more than you loved him. He hadn’t shaved it off since he had met you.

“Then stay still, and you will be rewarded,” he promised you, pushing a finger inside you as he rubbed his beard against your sensitive nipples which seemed to set you off.

“Oh god,” you shrieked but didn’t dare move your arms.

He trailed kisses down your stomach, on your belly button, before settling between your legs and staring at your bare, glistening cunt.

“All this for me?” he wondered again, he didn’t need for you to answer, you were tied up and presented before him, just for him to feast on however he pleased. He sloppily licked as much of your juices as he could.

“All for you...” you shuddered as he rubbed his beard against the skin of your thigh.

Temporarily losing your vision seemed to have heightened everything, was it always so intense when his calloused fingers touched you? When he pushed three of his fingers inside you while whispering the dirtiest things in the world in your ear, rubbing his beard into the crook of your neck till you came around his fingers.

You were still dizzy from your high, you hissed out his name when he pulled his fingers out of you, leaving your cunt so void and empty.

You didn’t have the opportunity to tell him just how amazing that was, “You ready, babe?” You heard him ask as you nodded, his leaking tip against your opening.

He pushed into you, slowly and steadily to draw it out, he always liked taking his time, a woman like you deserved to be treated right. He hovered over you, staring at your face, your sparkling eyes covered by the blindfold, your bottom lip between your teeth, he pulled it out of your mouth with his thumb

“Don’t want you hurting yourself, honey,” he tutted, shaking his head as be sucked on your bruised bottom lip, fully sheathing himself inside you.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, hooking them behind his back, he was so big - the biggest you had ever had and yet it was never enough. Your cunt was greedy. You needed him deep, as deep as he could go. Exploring parts of you no one had seen or touched before. Only he ever would.

His hand circling your hips to pull you up against him as he rocked his hips against yours, “You’re so tight... squeezing me so tight,” he groaned. “You wanna come for me?” He whispered in your ear before nibbling on your earlobe.

“Yes,” you furiously nodded, your orgasm washing over you, dark spots in your vision as you felt your limbs loosen up.

“Hang on for me,” he warned you, holding onto the headboard as he chased his own end.

You sighed, hooking your tied-up hands around his neck as you felt his warm spend fill you up.

“Feels nice,” you mumbled, nuzzling his beard.

He hushed when you whined like the needy little thing that you were as he pulled out of you, untying your bound wrists.

He dimmed the lights before removing your blindfold, “There she is,” he smiled, kissing your temple as you rubbed your eyes. “Did you have fun, honey?” he held onto your chin as he made you turn your head to him, so that he could look into your eyes.

“Mm-hm. We should do this again sometime,” you yawned. You were better at being tied up than him anyway.

“We will. Happy anniversary.”

“Happy Valentine’s.”

Tags will be in the reblog! Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Jamil, Sebek: How the Other Half Lives

I’m going to attempt to write a short fic about each birthday boy and their interviewer for the second set of birthday cards. These fics won’t necessarily be set on a birthday, but could be leading up to it or set after the party (since the Union birthday cards already tell a complete story from start to end). We’ll just have to see how things pan out!

First up, Jamil and Sebek! Two servants with two very different views on their masters...

Unrelated side note: it’s funny how Jamil says he would want to be in Ignihyde, but he’s celebrating his birthday kidnapped and being held in a dark room until Idia pulls up to experiment on him--

***Mild Happy Beans Day! Lyreless Brawl, Camp Vargas, and Scalding Sands Fireworks events spoilers! + Jamil Union Birthday card spoilers!***

Imagine this...

Kalim pressed a warm, wet washcloth against Jamil’s cheek. Moving in a circular motion, Kalim gently swept away the clouds of whipped cream dotting the grimacing birthday boy’s face--casualties of an annual tradition. Afterwards, he wrung the dirtied cloth over a bucket, coloring the water within a milky white.

Plip, plop. Drops rippled in its surface, the disturbed face of a mirror, before the contents of the bucket stilled once more.

Jamil caught a glimpse of his reflection. His face had slightly slimmed over the course of the past year. His eyes, sharper, and his hair, longer--now reaching the small of his back. It was still him in every sense.

Older, wiser.

More crafty.

“Sebek got you good, huh?” Kalim laughed, clapping his friend on the back. “And it looks like you got Sebek good too!”

“He got what was coming to him,” Jamil said flatly. His eyes briefly passed over to the aforementioned first year, who was busy cleaning himself up from the aftermath of retaliation. Jamil allowed himself a small smirk, relishing in his victory.

“Gahahah! Well, as long as you’re enjoying yourself, then I’m happy.” Kalim hung his washcloth on the rim of the bucket and straightened. “You haven’t had the chance to eat anything yet, right? Since you just got pied, how about some pie?”

“Pie is the last thing I want to see right now.”

“Okay, so a slice of cake instead! I’ll grab you one, just wait right here!”

“That’s kind of you, but I’m capable of fetching my own... aaand he’s gone.” Jamil held his head in his hands and sighed. Kalim had dashed off halfway through his sentence, making a beeline toward a table filled with food and crowded with party guests.

Best to not interfere... Not that interfering would stop him.

“Ohoh! I’m jealous of you, Jamil-senpai!”

His eyes cut to the owner of the booming voice--Sebek. “... Really, now? Jealous of me? I can’t imagine why.”

“Is it not clear?” Sebek clenched a hand into a fist. “To have your master fret for your wellbeing...! Being personally wiped up and hand-delivered food from one’s master...!! Are you not overjoyed?! THERE CAN BE NO GREATER HONOR!!”

Jamil winced at his spiking volume, his mouth pursing into a frown. “I’m absolutely overflowing with happiness. Can’t you tell that I’m ecstatic?”

He paused, just to let the sarcasm-soaked words sink into his junior’s mind. Then Jamil spat, “Those are normal, everyday things. I do not see what is considered to be an ‘honor’ there.”

“Tsk! You are ungrateful for your blessings!” Sebek scoffed, eyebrows angrily knitting together. “Or is it that you have become so accustomed to Kalim-senpai’s kindness that it no longer fazes you?! Oh, what I would give to have been childhood friends with the Young Master... Yet here you are, taking it for granted!! FOR SHAME!!”

“You seem to be misunderstanding a great number of things.” Jamil groaned, shaking his head. “To begin with, we did not choose to be ‘friends’. It was a fate already determined for us from the moment we came into this world. Secondly, that kindness of Kalim’s that you speak of is more of a hinderance than a help. And lastly...”

His eyes shone darkly.

“My position is certainly no blessing.”

Sebek looked aghast. “You don’t mean that!! There is nothing more grand than protecting and serving one’s master!”

“For you, perhaps. But consider that not everyone possesses the same mindset as yourself.” Jamil folded his arms, his gaze turning steely. “You chose your life of knighthood. My fate is already laid out for me. The same one as my ancestors, and surely the same as future incarnations of the Viper clan. Forever bound to the Asims... Servants in the shadows. Surely you can see why I would have my reservations.”

“Hmph! If you are unhappy, then you do not deserve to serve as you currently do. Simply resign, and allow Kalim-senpai to find a more fitting candidate!”

“If that were possible, I would have done so long ago.” A barely discernable bitterness had seeped into Jamil’s voice. The slight, metallic tang of poison slipped into one’s drink. “Kalim can only live as carefreely as he does because he is ignorant. He will never truly understand me.”

Through clear skies and rain, the sun ultimately cares not for the shadows it casts. It shines superficially, its golden light gilded.

“... That’s not true.”

“What?”

“I said,” Sebek bellowed, “THAT’S NOT TRUE AT ALL, JAMIL-SENPAI!!”

He jolted back, startled by the loud declaration. “You... What would you know? You barely understand my predicament yourself.”

“It’s true that the Young Master and I lack the same history that you and Kalim-senpai do. Even so...!! That is all the more reason for you to be open with one another!!!”

“Open with one another? You must be joking. As if Kalim could possibly--”

“How do you know?” Sebek demanded, cutting him off. “How do you know if you’ve never tried?!”

“That’s...” Jamil faltered with his words.

The first year continued. “Though I have devoted my life to the Young Master, I do not claim to know him in his entirety. There is so much more I have yet to learn. So much more I want to learn. With every new detail gleaned, I find myself respecting the Young Master more and more. That’s why... you should make the effort as well, Jamil-senpai!”

“I can already name Kalim’s likes, dislikes, fears, and faults off the top of my head.”

“Surface level details!” Sebek slammed a hand against his chest--over his heart. “I doubt you have ever had a true heart-to-heart. Expressing your genuine, most raw emotions to one another... Then, and only then, can you ‘understand’.”

This coming from the person who cried because he was not on the same team as Malleus-senpai... And threw a fit when he had to leave for camping and leave his Dorm Leader unattended to... And cried again because the cookie he was gifted from Malleus-senpai was crushed...

“... Why does it matter to you that I do this? Worry about yourself and your ‘Young Master’.”

“Hmph! Is it so wrong of me to wish the birthday boy happiness?”

“You think I will find happiness in understanding Kalim? And in him understanding me?” Challenge rose in Jamil’s tone. “Is that right?”

“You won’t know until you try. Admitting defeat before even attempting... that is a COWARD’S way out!”

“Are you calling me a coward?”

“I’m calling on you to change. It is a new year, full of new possibilities. There is no better time to improve oneself--so you can look back on your next birthday, and be proud!”

“Sebek... ” Jamil closed his eyes. For a moment, he looked thoughtful. Contemplating something he alone could fathom. When his eyes flared open again, they glittered with mischief. “I appreciate the advice. Let me thank you for it with another free pie to the face.”

“Wha--”

SPLAT!!

Fast as a viper lashing out, Jamil grabbed a whipped cream pie from a nearby table and chucked it at Sebek. It was a direct hit on the unsuspecting first year, who stumbled back from the impact, his back slamming into the wall. Cream clung to Sebek’s eyebrows, cheeks, and chin, giving the appearance of bushy white brows and a beard.

“YOU COWARD, GOING FOR A SNEAK ATTACK!!” he roared. “YOU SHALL RECEIVE YOUR COMEUPPANCE--”

“Sorry for taking so long, Jamil!” Kalim cried, skidding inbetween the two boys. He balanced a large slice of cake in his hands, a fork piercing it. “I saw some friends at the food table and got caught up in talking to them!”

“... Eh? Am I interrupting something?” The Scarabia Dorm Leader paused, glancing back and forth between Jamil and Sebek. Then, Kalim broke out into a wide smile. “Ohhhh, I get it! You’re making a new friend! Gahahah! That’s great, Jamil!!”

“Right... Friend.”

More like another headache and a half.

[hakasims]

The Most Important Review of Every Single Marwan Kenzari Film

If you’ve seen this one about Luca, you know the drill.

Now, Marwan’s brand is a little less defined than Luca’s but I managed to find similar tropes in a lot of his films. Also, rather than copy myself and give you a redundant Marwanmeter, I decided instead to recommend which Luca character best pairs with each Marwan character for your crossover pleasure. Let’s see if we ship the same things! Some of them are crack. You’re welcome.

(all gifs again by the awesomely amazing @weardes​ who did not ask to be my gif factory but life’s a bitch)

Het zusje van Katia (2008)

Will you miss him if you blink? Kinda. They talk about him a lot but his actual screen time is like 43.7 seconds. Also can I just say... he’s supposed to be from Italy?? The boy says literally one (1) Italian word, and you’ll never guess what it is. (Obviously, it’s “bella” like there’s a chance he could’ve said anything else.)

Is he hot? Painfully hot.

Is he naked? There’s this one scene where he’s wearing the sluttiest pair of speedos I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

Does his hair look great? Actually, yes. Perfect hair, perfect beard, he looks amazing.

Does he fuck? Yes, a lot - off screen, including an M/M/F threesome he presumably, probably, most definitely initiated.

Best paired with? From what I’ve gathered, this hoe ain’t loyal, so the best course of action is to find him a Luca that would benefit from a one night stand with no strings attached and wouldn’t fall in love with him. The obvious choice here is Valerio from Slam - Tutto per una ragazza. They meet, they fuck, then Giac makes his 4-hour drive back to Pisa, and they don’t see each other again until the next time he’s in Rome. Everybody’s happy, especially the two sluts in question.

De laatste dagen van Emma Blank (2009)

Will you miss him if you blink? Yes, absolutely.

Is he hot? Very.

Is he naked? Almost constantly.

Does his hair look great? He’s got those cute short curls, he looks so good.

Does he fuck? That’s literally why he’s there: to fuck and to die.

Best paired with? Man, I wish I had something to work with here. The only thing we know about him besides his sexual prowess is his affinity for white suits and toy helicopters. And as far as I know, those might be the exact things Fabrizio from Nina finds hot in guys. So like, why not?

Loft (2010)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s the fifth most important character.

Is he hot? Yeah, sure.

Is he naked? There’s a scene where he’s wearing underwear and a tank top but it somehow makes him look like a kindergartener.

Does his hair look great? It looks quite nice.

Does he fuck? Yes, though I wish he didn’t.

Best paired with? Tom is a very violent person and a drug addict. He does messed up stuff to his sexual partners I’d rather he didn’t do to any of Luca’s characters. Feel free to use him for your sadistic fantasies or as a villain or whatever.

Rabat (2011)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s one of the three leads.

Is he hot? Oh yes! And cute!

Is he naked? He’s at the beach wearing nothing but boxer shorts.

Does his hair look great? He’s got this extreme undercut thing that would look ridiculous on anyone less pretty, so like no, he doesn’t have great hair, but also like it’s Marwan, you know what I mean?

Does he fuck? Before he embarks on a road trip with his friends, he has an offscreen threesome with two girls he picked up at a wedding. Slut.

Best paired with? Gabriele from Waves. They’re both sweet guys who could meet in some Tunisian port and decide to sail the Mediterranean Sea together.

Black Out (2012)

Will you miss him if you blink? Not unless your blinking is very deliberate.

Is he hot? Not really. He’s a dirty cop with a shitty moustache and oral fixation.

Is he naked? No, but I wish he was: his clothes are awful. Marwan is 29 in this movie and he looks 50!

Does his hair look great? Nope. They took Marwan’s usual short hair and made it not work somehow.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? The one thing Luca’s characters all have in common is that none of them come off as bootlickers. All of them are either too soft for such a relationship or wouldn’t waste their spit on a cop.

Wolf (2013)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist.

Is he hot? *gestures wildly at the gif*

Is he naked? He’s got quite a few shirtless scenes.

Does his hair look great? It’s nothing special but suits his character well.

Does he fuck? Oh yes.

Best paired with? Hear me out. I know that some people ship him with Fabio, but in my opinion that pair, while hot, doesn’t work. Here’s my pitch: Cesare from Non essere cattivo. The drug connection is still there, but in this case Majid’s problem-solving skills won’t fall on deaf ears. Cesare needs a daddy, ok? Majid can be a daddy when he needs to, especially when he has a soft boyfriend to care for. And Majid needs soft, not psycho.

Hartenstraat (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist once again.

Is he hot? Painfully.

Is he naked? There’s that iconic scene where he’s wearing nothing but black boxer briefs and boots while carrying a tray...

Does his hair look great? He’s got Joe-like curls and looks like what every male romantic lead should aspire to look like and then cry because they all fail.

Does he fuck? There’s one very unfortunate sex scene played for laughs. I’m pretty sure he’ll need therapy afterwards. I certainly do.

Best paired with? Paolo from Il padre d’Italia. Paolo deserves the best boyfriend, and who’s better than Daan, an extremely hot man who cooks? They both have daughters, so they can talk about that, I guess, and Paolo can finally have a family. Honestly, this is so wholesome I just made myself cry.

Lucia de B. (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? For sure.

Is he hot? He’s a cop. Again. But he looks good.

Is he naked? Fully dressed, but man are his clothes ugly. Is that a cop thing?

Does his hair look great? He has slightly longer curls, which is fine and the best thing about this character.

Does he fuck? ACAB. (I know this doesn’t answer the question, I just wanted to make it clear.)

Best paired with? See my bootlicker comment from earlier. While Detective *checks notes* Ron Leeflang isn’t explicitly corrupt, he’s obviously a dick, so the best I can do here is recommend any Luca character that has ever been in trouble with the law for any fics about power imbalance you want to write but aren’t comfortable with a nice Marwan playing the villain.

Bloedlink (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? Oh no, he’s there the entire time.

Is he hot? In a weird way, yes.

Is he naked? So, so, so naked. Like, leave nothing to the imagination naked.

Does his hair look great? I’d say that little rat tail is the exact opposite of great.

Does he fuck? Probably more than is good for him. I should also add that he’s canonically queer in this.

Best paired with? Rico is a pathetic loser in need of someone who’s got his life together and has a lot of experience dealing with fuckups. Enter Loris from Il mondo fino in fondo. He has a stable job and a savior complex, and with his little bro gaying it up in Chile and not needing him anymore, all he wants right now is someone to fix. I should be a fucking matchmaker in real life, for real.

Pak van mijn hart (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? Undoubtedly.

Is he hot? No. The whole point of his character is to be the lesser choice compared to a guy who looks like a completely ordinary bland white dude...

Is he naked? ...so of course he isn’t naked! What, are they gonna take this poor woman, show her Marwan Kenzari’s post-Wolf body and expect her to choose her deeply mediocre ex? Please! They’re gonna dress him in the dorkiest clothes possible...

Does his hair look great? ...and make him wear the most awful wig that was clearly run over by a truck.

Does he fuck? No. As you can observe, they tried really hard to make him unfuckable, but honestly, he seems like a perfectly nice guy.

Best paired with? You know what? Mattia from La solitudine dei numeri primi is in desperate need of some sweetness and normalcy. I’m sure Richard will treat him with kindness and respect.

Collide (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s the fifth most important character. Out of five.

Is he hot? Very hot.

Is he naked? Not for a second! What’s up with American movies where people aren’t just casually walking around naked without any plot necessity???

Does his hair look great? His curls are so cute you guys! Look at them!

Does he fuck? Not explicitly.

Best paired with? Fabio from Lo chiamavano Jeeg Robot. Again, the drug connection is there, but Matthias is soft enough not to butt heads with Fabio and, by the end of the movie, rich enough to satisfy his cravings for good living and fame. Also look at how good their color coordination is with those dark wine red clothes! Sometimes planets just align, okay?

Ben-Hur (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? Yes, especially if you aren’t watching the background.

Is he hot? Your usual Marwan hot.

Is he naked? No.

Does his hair look great? His typical short curls with a twist. I think the forehead area is supposed to invoke the Caesar cut? I don’t know. It looks fine when not hidden under that dumb helmet.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? A better script and a much better director. (Seriously, what is this blocking?)

The Promise (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s there a decent amount in the first half of the movie and then almost completely disappears in the second half.

Is he hot? Very much, yes.

Is he naked? Unfortunately, no.

Does his hair look great? He’s got short curls again, but this time they’re fashionably styled, it’s magnificent.

Does he fuck? Oh yeah! And there’s no way he isn’t bi or pan in this. No way.

Best paired with? Roberta from L’ultimo terrestre. Listen, Emre Ogan may be a slut but he’s a gentleman, okay? He’d treat Roberta right and he’s got daddy’s cash to spare on hundreds of gorgeous white dresses for her.

The Mummy (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s there, but barely.

Is he hot? Dangerously hot.

Is he naked? Not once! Instead we get a naked Tom Cruise literally no one asked for.

Does his hair look great? It’s your basic professional short hairdo.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? Malik is a member of an organization tracking and destroying various monsters and historical artefacts related to them. Guido from Tutti i santi giorni speaks four languages, including Latin, and is a literature and ancient history nerd which makes him a valuable asset. Malik can fight and protect; Guido is bumbling and in need of saving. Guys, this writes itself.

What Happened to Monday (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, especially not in the third act.

Is he hot? He’s okay.

Is he naked? Very naked.

Does his hair look great? They shouldn’t have greased his curls back. He looks like another victim of Fabio Cannizzaro’s stylist. Also I wish he’d either shaved or finished growing out that beard.

Does he fuck? He fucks and he fucks good. He’ll go down on you, he’ll deflower you slowly and gently, he’ll choke you if you want him to, he’ll spoon you all night, he’ll give you emotional support, he’ll murder people for you - he’s down for whatever.

Best paired with? There’s one Luca character who needs a lot of sex and even more emotional support. Alright, most of them do, but I’m thinking of Ettore from Lasciate andare. He needs it, okay? Good dicking, good spooning, a good ear, a fine piece of ass to cry into - you get the gist. Most importantly: someone who’d love him for who he is and with whom he could relax and be himself. (Also, I see you, people comparing him to Fabio. Shame on you for sleeping on this soft boy and judging him based on his appearance.)

Murder on the Orient Express (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s kinda always present, being very French.

Is he hot? Very hot.

Is he naked? No, but I’m willing to forgive that because he looks so good in his conductor uniform.

Does his hair look great? He never takes off his hat.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? Mickey Miranda. They’re both murderers morally dubious characters who would look hot together. What else do you need? (Again, I see you, people who want Pierre for Roberta because he’s a “nice guy”, and I know for a fact you didn’t watch the movie. Spoilers, I guess.)

The Angel (2018)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist.

Is he hot? Oh yes.

Is he naked? Not once, but you won’t regret it because he’s wearing excellently stylish 1970s clothes.

Does his hair look great? It looks fantastic. The sideburns (not yet seen here) are a good touch.

Does he fuck? He can definitely get it, but he’s loyal to his wife.

Best paired with? As the most aesthetically coherent and fashionably hot pair in this post, Ashraf and Primo are a no-brainer. Can you imagine Primo calling him “Angel” in different contexts? When he’s being intimidating, not realizing how palpable the sexual tension between them is, and later not even hiding his arousal? Sometimes things just work because they’re hot. That’s all, folks.

Aladdin (2019)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the main villain.

Is he hot? It’s not like he went viral for being the “hot Jafar” or anything.

Is he naked? No! Fucking thanks a lot, Disney.

Does his hair look great? He has a buzz cut under that turban but he looks good in the turban, so that’s something.

Does he fuck? It’s a Disney movie, so he doesn’t fuck - explicitly or otherwise - but he still comes off as a thirsty bitch.

Best paired with? Jafar ends the movie as a genie who’s obligated to grant his master three wishes but is enough of a petty bitch to exploit the hell out of the “gray area” and screw them over Wishmaster style. My unconventional pair for him is Lui from Ricordi? So many scenarios with distorted memories and magic-induced mindfuck. So many possibilities for awesome and messed up crossover gifsets! Don’t say I never give you guys anything.

Instinct (2019)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s very prominent.

Is he hot? I hate myself for finding him hot but I do.

Is he naked? He’s playing basketball shirtless in one scene, shaking his sweaty boobs everywhere.

Does his hair look great? His weird mohawk-like thing is honestly terrible, but if anything can make it work, it’s Marwan’s bone structure.

Does he fuck? Um, I’m pleading the Fifth on this one for the sake of good taste.

Best paired with? Prison. A very lonely, Luca-less prison.

The Old Guard (2020)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, unless blinking in your case means sleeping through the gloriousness that is the first ever canonically gay couple in an American action film.

Is he hot? Painfully.

Is he naked? Shirtless in one scene.

Does his hair look great? Soft curls courtesy of Luca Marinelli’s tireless lobbying.

Does he fuck? Not on screen, but you can just tell by the way he looks at his husband and reads impromptu poetry right to his face. And everybody knows nothing kindles the fires of passion quite like murdering homophobes together.

Best paired with? If you have to ask, you’re clearly reading this by mistake. In which case, kudos for finishing such a long and confusing post, now go watch The Old Guard and cry at the beauty that is The Immortal Marriage.

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 7

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 7

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and light smut.

Words: ~2200 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5   Part 6

Chapter 7

You should have asked Billy to stop. The logical part of you knew fucking him in some dirty alleyway was wrong. You deserved better than this, even if he didn’t think so, but when his mouth was on yours and ravaging you, and you were filled with so much anger that you wanted to scream – well, it dulled the sane part of you. Your body was desperate for release and you simply gave into your baser instincts.

You ripped his leather jacket off while he did the same with your coat. You bit his bottom lip so hard you tasted blood in your mouth as he braced you uncomfortably against the jagged wall. There was nothing remotely tender or loving about this moment as he pulled your underwear down and hiked up your skirt to your waist. Knee propped against the wall, he balanced you atop his leg. You rubbed yourself on his thigh, groaning at the arousing feel of his rough jeans on your pussy.  The moans you cried out were swallowed by his demanding mouth, his fingers bruising your hips as he held you steady.

You quickly unzipped his jeans, pulling his cock out, pumping him quickly before he forcibly removed your hand from his. His fingers slipped inside your mouth and you licked them with your tongue, your teeth nipping his skin. You were so wet already, grinding down on him, but he took his fingers from your mouth and reached down to stroke your pussy, getting you ready for him. You gasped when he penetrated you slowly, taking his time so you felt every inch of him impale you. Your body shuddered, quivering under the intensity of his gaze as he watched you take him in. Then he began to thrust, jostling your body hard against him. Clinging to him, you bit his shoulder hard each time.

You missed him, the feel of his hands all over you when he was excited, the weight of his body pressing down on you when he was inside you, how loud and wild he was when he was fucking you.

Eyes closed, you lolled your head back against the wall and moaned loudly as he brushed your clit. The combination of his cock and fingers drove you crazy, you were lost in a haze of ecstasy when Billy lifted you higher. You winced with pain as your back scraped against the wall but he didn’t notice, focused on maneuvering your leg around his waist so he can go in deeper.

Pain and pleasure rocked through your body. You could feel yourself getting close, so close, when he suddenly gripped your chin.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” His voice was tender, gentle, eyes shining bright. “Look at me, Y/N.”

His beautiful brown eyes were glazed with need, mouth slightly open. He peered up at you, his nose crinkled, with the most amazed expression on his face. Struck by an intense wave of affection, you caressed his beard and leaned forward to lick his bottom lip. A warm, wicked smile marked his lips before he pulled your lip with his teeth, playing with you.  

Hips undulating in unison, his fingers working you, you hit your orgasm within seconds and the world exploded.

As waves of pleasure surged through you, you rode them out, blissful and semi-aware of Billy still thrusting in you as he sucked the corner of your neck. He groaned loudly, his body shaking, when he finally came inside you.

Time stood still. Your body felt boneless, your mind soaring.

You were limp in his arms, probably heavy as hell, but he somehow managed to still hold you up, breath ragged at first but slowly returning to normal. He grasped the back of your head with one hand while cradling your face with the other, angling up to graze your forehead, your eyebrows, dropping gentle kisses on the top of your closed eyelids. You murmured contentedly, enjoying this unexpected moment of tenderness from him.  

Then you heard voices approaching and your eyes flew open. The reality of where you were hit you like a ton of bricks. Immediately you untangled yourself from Billy’s arms, pushing him away, and started righting your clothes.

Your thighs felt wet, slick with his cum. You dug through your pockets for Kleenex, something you could use to clean yourself but there wasn’t any. But Billy was prepared, of course he was. His eyes glued to your face, he retrieved tissue from his jacket pocket and started wiping your thighs. “I can do it!” you snapped, grabbing it from him. When you felt somewhat presentable again, you started walking away.

“Where are you going?” he demanded.

You pulled out your phone to request an Uber but he snapped it from your hand. “What are you doing? Give me my phone back!”

“I’ll take you home.”

“I’ll get home myself. I don’t need anything from you!”

“Just shut up and follow me to my car.”

The last thing you wanted was to spend more time with him but he was holding your phone hostage. You followed him grudgingly, careful to keep your distance. The car was parked nearby and upon approaching the vehicle, he held the passenger side door open for you. You knew better than to assume the chivalrous gesture was meant for you specifically. It was a thing he always did, as part of the charming image he cultivated, but whereas he usually wore a smile when he held the door open, right now he simply looked furious. You slid in; he slammed the door shut. As you buckled your seat belt, you grimaced. The same spot on your back that had scraped against the wall was now rubbing against the seat and the friction from the contact was almost painful.  

The car ride home was filled with tension. You felt his eyes on you every so often but you refused to acknowledge him, not when your mind was reeling with hurt and anger. How could you be so stupid? You were supposed to move on from him, instead you fucked him in some alleyway next to a crowded restaurant. Worse yet, there was a chance your boss may have spotted you. You may have potentially risked your career for a guy who wouldn’t even go out with you.  

Over the past year, researching him as you had, you’d come to realize he needed the finer things in life. His car, his penthouse, the clothes he wore, they were all a status symbol for him. He needed them to feel like he’d accomplished something, probably to separate himself from the kid who grew up in foster homes and had nothing. Women, obviously, played into that equation as well. Women like Dinah Madani, beautiful, powerful, accomplished, they looked great in his arms and made him feel good about himself – but you were not in the same category of women as Dinah and he treated you accordingly. She was good enough to take to the gala, to be the date he wined and dined. You were the woman he fucked in secret. Well, not exactly a secret because he fucked you on the street like you were trash. Somehow you didn’t think Dinah Madani would ever get the two-bit whore treatment from Billy.

Rage hit you again, and you scooted as far from him as possible. The movement caused the sore spot on your back to hit the chair again and you winced.

“You okay?” he asked.

You were starting to panic, taking count of everything that had gone wrong in the past hour. The man who tried to kill you was out on bail. Roger found out you had shared embarrassing info with a competitor, which may have potentially jeopardized your job. You just fucked someone without protection, someone who was known for sleeping around.

Suddenly you couldn’t breathe, everything was weighing down on you. Shit. Shit. Shit.

You hunched over, clutching your temples, staring down at the floormat. You were struggling to breathe, your chest felt constricted.

You felt Billy rub your back, murmuring some nonsense to you, but you ignored him, instead closing your eyes to take a few deep breaths. You inhaled slowly, exhaled slowly. You did it for several minutes. Soon the panic subsided and a familiar numbness took over. Your mind was clear again.

So, yeah, you were in deep shit at the moment, but it was nothing compared to what you’d gone through in the past. You were able to get out of your family’s clutches, that meant you could get through anything. You just had to be calm and formulate a plan.

Okay. Out of everything that had gone wrong, the easiest thing to fix was an unwanted pregnancy. You’d go down to the pharmacy and get Plan B. That way you didn’t have to worry about being knocked up. And then you’d make an appointment next week with the clinic to get checked out. Even though Billy was usually very careful about using a condom – except today – you had no idea how many other women he was sleeping with and you didn’t want to risk catching anything from him.

Two things down, two more things to go.

First thing when you got home, you’d call Roger. You’d reassure him that telling Billy about Adam Preston was a one-time thing and you weren’t in the habit of divulging confidential information to a competitor. You were shook up yesterday, you weren’t in your right mind, and that had resulted in a terrible error in judgement. It was never going to happen again. And Roger valued you, he appreciated all the work you did, he wouldn’t hold something so silly over you. And if he saw you fucking Billy? You cringed at the thought, but there was no point in inviting trouble. If he did catch you red-handed, well, you’d cross that bridge when you came to it. “There’s a pharmacy at the end of my street,” you said to Billy, without looking at him. “You can drop me off there.”

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Adam Preston was the biggest problem you had to overcome. You’d already started looking into his family, trying to find dirt that you could use as leverage against them in case you needed to. But you remembered the look in Adam’s eyes when he’d been ready to kill you. He was unhinged and held you responsible for everything wrong in his life. There was a very good chance he couldn’t be reasoned with or blackmailed, but you were not going to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder in fear. No, never again. You’d spent your entire childhood that way, always wondering what inconsequential thing would set your father off. You were not going to live through that again. So, fuck Adam Preston. If he couldn’t be controlled, then he’d have to be eliminated. Simple as that. And you knew exactly who to turn to for that.

“Give me my phone,” you said to Billy, finally turning to look at him.

Dividing his attention between the road ahead and you, he shot you a confused glance. “I’ve been talking to you for the last ten minutes. Have you heard a single thing I’ve said?”

“No.” You held out your hand. “My phone, Billy.”

“Why do you need to go to a pharmacy?” He cast her a quick glance. “Did I hurt you?”

“I don’t want to get knocked up by you. So I’m going to the pharmacy to get that taken care of. Does that answer your question?”

You noted the way his jaw clenched, but you reminded yourself not to care. You were done with Billy. You were done with feeling like shit. The first time he made you feel worthless, you could console yourself with the fact it hadn’t been your fault. Before you caught him with Dinah, you didn’t know he viewed you. Every time since then, however, was a conscious choice on your part to engage with him which meant you were solely responsible for how pathetic you felt right now. He was selfish, callous, and treated you like shit, and yet you still fucked him. That was something you had to hold yourself accountable to.

Parking his car a few feet away from the pharmacy doors, he turned off his car. His face was dark, his voice terse. “I didn’t force you to fuck me back there, babe. You wanted it as much as I did.”

You met his solemn stare. “You’re right. I did. I fucked you even though you make me feel worthless. There’s only been one other person who’s made me feel that ugly and I cut them out a long time ago - but not you, you I fuck.” A bitter laugh escaped you. “I told you about the Adam thing and what did you do? You went and threw it in my boss’s face so you can brag about Anvil. He could fire me tomorrow and I wouldn’t have any recourse because I’m the one who divulged confidential information. But you feeling smug and superior is obviously more important than me keeping my job.” You looked away from him, staring out the window. “You keep hurting me, and I just let you. For what? Because I have feelings for you? Because some part of me might love you? That’s not a good enough reason.” You shook your head. “I fought like hell to make something of myself, to be safe and happy. I’m not going to let these stupid feelings ruin all that. You will not destroy me.” You felt calm, at peace with your decision. “Give me my phone.”

Your fingers made physical contact when he handed you your phone. His potent stare was affixed on you, angry, volatile, filled with emotion, but you ignored his gaze and snatched the phone away from him.

You opened the door and exited the car, heading to the pharmacy. There was a line at the counter and you took the opportunity to block Billy’s number on your phone.

It was odd. Revealing your weaknesses to Billy, making yourself vulnerable – any of those would have made you hyperventilate before. You weren’t in the habit of giving people ammunition to use against you, but you suspected it was the only way to get rid of Billy permanently. And, strangely, telling him how you felt in the car was freeing. Because, ultimately, it didn’t matter what he thought, the only thing that mattered was you. And you were ready to move on.

Part 8

A/N - As always, thank you for being such a wonderful, generous audience and all the likes, reblogs, comments, asks, and messages you’ve left me. Trust me when I say, I’m committed to finish this story because of you :)

If you’d like to be added/removed from the tag list, please let me know.

Tag List

@yourfavoritefruitybitch​ @voyevoda-thejoy @adreamemporium @queenmalhinewahine  @gubleryum @galaxyjane  @xceafh @maralisa124 @tomhollandisabae @daybleedsintonightfa11 @lil-baby-nor @all-art-is-quite-useless  @tanyaherondale  @nashibirne  @dour-trash  @thetallassgirl @athenamikaelson  @agent-jbarnes  @primadonnasdream  @aleksanderwh0r3  @elisemockingbird @nihilismworld @archisur @nemesis729  @lysawayne @kaqua @ladyblablabla @lemasonda @advictedtohim @24-martie   @tarkanelima-blog @shinebrightlikeafanbase  @krystal-clear1 @damalseer @dontjinx-it @darkishx   @wanderlusting-about-life @thatguppienamedbae @happypepperdog @bat-revival  @sassygirl25  @consulting--heroes  @the-celestial-kitsune  @mackaywhore  @ablxssm @competitive-dust @red-head011 @exo-1204  @sunsetenigma @millieb-3199 @chatnain @licensedcheek @tinkertailor1212 @vertesalope @safetyhtom @acourtofglassandroses @eliwinchester-barnes @finnismyoriginalsin @weallhaveadestiny   @beananacake  @beauty-and-the-beast97 @smurfelle  @fire-treasure-iii  @charly-0  @kestrafagnor  @pigwidgeonxo  @damagelove  @allegra-writes  @pensandthings  @jad3djay

[littlegodzilla]

Hi Anon!!

Here I am again! I finally managed to finish it before leaving this afternoon. I'm so sorry for being late with this request, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it and that it looks at least a little bit like what you had in your mind.

I hope you like it!!

The Basement

Mac Red Canyon x Reader.

Anon request. Warnings: drug addict, kidnap, SMUT. Mac because he in himself is a warning. Words: 2400 Summary: Your drug problems led you meet Mac.

taglist: @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @pncnsc @lilythemadqueen @ruinedbythehobbit @darylsgarden

You hear the door open and your whole body trembles again, you find it hard to open your eyes, you find it hard to get up to face him. Your whole body is exhausted, your mind clouded, your legs still shaking from the last time he was between them. With a tremendous effort you manage to stay seated on the dirty mattress he once put for you, at least your ass is no longer cold when you try to sleep.

His heavy footsteps come down the stairs, apparently he is calm today, you don't feel nervousness and hurry in his gestures, maybe today he has a good day. In front of you appears the figure of a man, clearly older than you, several years, disheveled and dirty brown hair, several days old beard, his blue eyes pierce into you like two daggers, a crooked smile is drawn on his mouth walking towards you. In his hand he carries a tray, some food, water and a thin streak of white powder that makes you lick and bite your lips anxiously.

"Mac..." you whisper his name sliding to the edge of the mattress, your bare feet touching the cold floor.

"Did ya miss me, girl?" his voice sounds like a growl, he sets the tray down on a table by the side of the place and walks over to you stroking your hair, it's a little dirty and greasy from the days you haven't left, but he doesn't mind. "I brought ya somethin' to eat, and a present, if ya behave yerself..." You can't see it, but you feel the cruelty in his smile.

"Y-yes, please... it's been days since..." you try to speak and he holds your cheeks so that you lift your head and look at him, his grip hurts you, your whole body is so weak.

"Ya've been actin'like a bitch for days now and ya deserved a fuckin' punishment." He roars so close to your face that his breath chokes you, a mix between tobacco and alcohol.

You want to protest, but you know you can't, that you're in no position to demand anything from him, you alone got yourself into that trouble, no one is going to come and save you. You're sure that no one knows you're there, either.

You met Mac by chance in a bar not far from your hometown, you needed to escape from your problems, you had escaped from your last rehab session and the last thing you needed was your mother making it clear how disappointed she was in you. You walked into the bar, ordered a drink, one after another, until you felt the alcohol clouding your senses, then Mac appeared in front of you. His darkened gaze, the way he ran his eyes over your body, his teeth chewing his lip with desire, nothing about him said he had good intentions, but you didn't care, you had already screwed up, just because you got a little deeper into the shit wouldn't change anything.

Mac offered to take you to his house, which made everything much more interesting, the man's house was as scruffy and unkempt as he was, but you ignored him as he pulled a bag from his pants pocket and your eyes widened like saucers. You approached him ready to taste it, but he withdrew it from your grasp.

"Ya want it? Beat it." He said to you with a tone charged with need, almost like you.

He didn't need to repeat it twice for you to get down on your knees in front of him showing him how much you needed that white substance sneaking up your nose. Mac shared the drug before cumming in your mouth, laying you down on the floor, both of you snorting hard on the brown man's fist, letting the high envelop you both, the ecstasy taking over your bodies and bringing you to a state of climax that made you completely lose your mind.

When you opened your eyes again you were in a basement, everything was dark, light barely entered through a small window, fear invaded you for a moment, but your head was still working at full speed and your body was numb and sore. Mac appeared in front of you again, he squatted down and in his fingers danced a new baggie of dope.

"Yer dependent on this shit, ain't ya? That's why you were in that bar last night, drowning your sorrows..."

"That's none of your business, let me go."

"No." He said simply, without even raising his voice.

"I'll scream..." you threatened him and a grimace formed on his mouth.

"Scream all ya want, but no one here will listen to ya, and if they do no one will come to poke their noses in." He assured you and opened the pouch sticking his little finger inside catching some of the powder to pull it out and bring it closer to your mouth, desperate you opened your mouth to catch it, but Mac withdrew it taking it to his own mouth. "Stay with me and I'll give ya that thing ya need so badly." He promised you, you hesitated, it was obvious that he had kidnapped you, that you were there by force, but he was right too, you had nowhere else to go.

"W-what do you want from me..." you asked in a defeated tone, looking at him sideways.

"Be a good girl and that every time I come to see ya have yer legs open and yer pussy wet for me."

You held up your end of the bargain, every time Mac showed up in the basement, you would wait for him lying on the mattress he had laid out for you, naked, legs apart and masturbating so you would be ready for him. Mac would always come down with his tray of food and your stripe ready. The drug was a gift, as he liked to tell you, if you were good and did everything he asked.

Sex and drugs became your everyday since you met him.

It's not something you mind, in fact much of your life has been spent that way, you have to admit at least Mac is good looking enough not to be a nasty act and he knows how to use his dick. Plus he's an addict just like you, sooner or later he has to get high which means he goes looking for you to blow off steam. You are his blow-up doll.

Unfortunately the last time he came looking for you he used your mouth too violently and you couldn't hold your gagging making a mess, Mac went into a rage leaving you there alone, embarrassed wrapped in the sour smell of your own vomit. After what happened, Mac disappeared for several days until now he has returned with his tray and you feel the need making your skin uncomfortable, your tongue wanting to taste what he offers you, but you know it won't be that easy, that first you will have to obey everything he tells you.

"I-I'm sorry..." you say looking sideways at him, wishing that's what he needs.

"I know, but ya ruined my night, ya know that, ain't ya?" his eyes flash with anger and you shake your head nodding.

"L-let me make it up to you... Please, Mac..."

"Yer pathetic... begging for this shit, I should get rid of it."

"No!" You grab him by the waist and he pushes you away with a violent shove.

Mac sets the tray back down on the table and his fingers close violently in your hair as he lifts you off the mattress to look at you. You close your eyes holding on to his wrist so the pull isn't painful, you've been locked in there for so long, your body is so weak he can manipulate you as if you were a puppet.

"Don't play with me, ya little bitch." He growls his nose brushing against your cheek, his body vibrating at the fierceness of his own words. "Yer no one to demand anythin', this wasn't our deal, so respect the rules or I'll have to get rid of ya." The threat in his voice is real, your eyes fill with tears feeling helpless in the face of his control.

"I-I'm sorry..." you repeat biting your lip.

"Yer sorry? If yer really sorry use yer mouth for more than just apologizin'." He orders you and your whole body vibrates as the grip of his hand in your hair loosens.

You look at him, his cock hard against his work pants, you know that much of his excitement is due to the damage he is causing you, to the domination he exerts over you. You haven't known each other long, maybe a month or two, it's hard to calculate the passage of time locked in there, but you've learned to read in him how damaged he is. Just like you. You settle back on your knees in front of him, unbutton his pants and slowly pull them down as well as his boxers, his cock vibrates as it is released and rises before your gaze. Your hand strokes his length slowly feeling it finish hardening under your touch, a tug on his hair makes you look up seeing that Mac has his eyes locked on you.

"For yer sake ain't let the same thing happen as last time."

You vibrate one more time before you open your mouth, your tongue licks his tip and slowly push him into your mouth, slowly your head pumps up and down, touching with your hand what you can't encompass, you know that won't be enough for him, that he will soon take control of the situation, so you try to relax. Mac's fingers tighten over your head again, like a warning, you close your eyes and relax your throat as you feel him start to move his hips against your mouth, his cock pushing deeper, the tip hitting the end of your mouth, choking you a little. The pumping of his hips and your head guided by his hand gets faster and faster, deeper and deeper, hitting the end of your mouth again and again doing everything you can to hold back gagging. Mac thrusts one last time, your nose buries itself in his pubic hair and you feel his cock thrust deeper as he cums choking you. Desperation and panic shake you, you look up checking that he is still staring at you, biting his lip, enjoying seeing the fear captured in your eyes, tears streaming down your face, your nose barely able to catch some air feeling your lungs burn.

"Swallow it." He orders you with a thread of a voice. "Swallow it or I won't let go."

You barely manage to do as he asks, swallowing the last remnants that haven't slid down your throat on their own and Mac pulls away just enough to get his cock out of your mouth, but he doesn't let go, he rubs the tip of his cock against your cheek spitting the last remnants of cum against your skin, you're struggling to fill your lungs with air again, so you allow him to spread his cum across your face, delighting in seeing the white spots on your skin.

"Good girl."He says with a crooked smile, he releases his cock and his thumb strokes your lips taking it inside your mouth. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" he whispers and you shake your head, gasp as his hand impacts against your cheek. "Good, let's be clear for next time."

You feel your cheek burn after the man's blow, but you don't have time to protest, he separates and lays you down on the mattress positioning himself on top of you, he lifts one of your legs to put it over his shoulder, the other goes around his waist. There is no prior preparation, no look asking for permission or a few caresses to relax you, his cock pushes its way inside you with a strong thrust again and you grit your teeth so hard you feel the metallic taste of your own blood on your tongue. He's just finished cumming, but he's fully hard inside you again. His teeth close over your cheek as he thrusts inside you, again and again, fast, hard, deep, his thrusts are loud and erratic, you close your eyes tightly and let out several moans. He's not careful with you, he's still pissed off about last time, he's just looking for his pleasure and still manages to hit the exact spots inside you that make your legs tremble with pleasure. You hold onto his shoulders and try to move under his body, your pussy clenching around his cock. He snorts and gasps against your cheek, his teeth loosen your skin to move down to your neck where he bites down hard again, his hands tangle in your hair looking for better support and his lunges become faster, needy, he's about to cum again and this time you with him.

Your pussy is sore, your legs tremble and your whole body is full of his teeth marks as Mac cums once more against your lower back, his hands marked on your buttocks, a still bleeding bite in the center of your back. He pushes you down so you lie on the mattress and he sits up rubbing his nose. His high has subsided and he needs a new stimulation.

You know you've won again.

Mac walks over to the tray, picks it up and sits down next to you, slowly you crawl in next to him, he allows you to snort first, the white line disappears as you snort hard through your nose, quickly in your brain a state of relaxation and intoxication is generated, your eyes water at the sensation of the substance passing through your canal but it's only for a second. Next to you you hear Mac snort loudly as well before throwing his head back and rubbing his nose. You look at him with dwarfed eyes and move closer licking his fingertips. He smiles totally gone, but breaks away from you, getting up not without difficulty.

"Eat... I'll be back for ya in an hour." He assures you and you smile, a purr of pleasure escaping your throat produced by the high you are feeling.

Mac looks at you one last time and slowly walks away, up the basement stairs and closes the door. He doesn't bother to lock it or tie you up.

He knows you're not going anywhere.

The End

.

I hope you enjoyed!!

As always sorry for my English!!

See you in the next story!!