#this is going to be so goddamn miserable i'm telling you.

[goldentangerines]

new semester tomorrow ia m hanging on by a thread.

[notanactressyayy]

—𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭—

pairing . Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

summary . she needs you, in multiple ways — she's just scared to ask for it.

warnings . smut — I am NOT responsible for the content you consume — thigh riding, scissoring, fingering, vulnerable sex (because yes), taking care of Nat because she deserves it.

notes . English is not my first language, I'm brazilian, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes. this is probably the first fic I ever post so hi hi!!!

(I'm sorry if this is bad, I literally wrote that in a waiting room, completely in a rush.)

divider credits: @cafekitsune ^^

You didn't know exactly why the TV was on. You weren't interested on the show, and Natasha wasn't even looking at it. Her eyes looked down as she fidgeted with her fingers. You could tell she was anxious, that something was bothering her.

You just never expected that this was something to do with you — no, you didn't do anything wrong. It was her.

Natasha and you met years ago, and had been in a situationship for a while now. You weren't friends, but somehow, you couldn't recall the time you started dating (because it never existed). Friends with benefits was too cliché, and maybe not enough to describe what you actually had with her.

To begin with it, you met Natasha when she was still an Avenger. You were never part of the team, but they treated you as if you were. You were close to everyone, but specially Natasha. There was a reason she had let that happen, since according to her, she was in New York to be a hero, and not to have friends.

Friends.

The moment the russian started to blush whenever Thor teased her about how close she was to you or when you simply stared at her for a few seconds or more was when she realized that she made a mistake. A good one, she hoped. In a heartbeat, she was telling you her story.

You listened — just, listened. Your hand went to brush her hair behind her ear whenever she looked down, and the sparkle of pride in your eyes was not something she could miss. You didn't pity her. You didn't try to bring up a justification for what she went through, or to bring up a solution to fix her. You were proud of her for who she became, and were there for her whenever she didn't want to be that person for a while.

It was with that trust in you that she found herself wanting, craving even, something more. She's human, wether she like it or not. She can't deny her feelings or urges, not even the most dangerous spy can.

So her walls broke when you said you were going with her to Norway after the Avengers split.

Natasha shifted a little in the couch, the blankets around her getting all crumpled as she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Your focus went from the soft patting of the raindrops in the window to the woman next to you, as you frowned a bit.

"Nat?" you called, leaning your side against the backrest of the couch and looking at her. "What's wrong?"

She turned to you, a little startled, but tried to shake it off with a small grin. "Oh, it's nothing. It's just a little hot in here."

"We're in Norway," you laughed, giving her that goddamn smile of yours. "And.. it's raining."

"The..." she shook her head, failing miserably to come up with an excuse. "The blankets are making me hot."

"Mhm, are they?" you raised an eyebrow, and pulled the blankets off you both, and letting half of them fall to the floor. "Better?"

Natasha shivered, but nodded nonetheless. You saw she was unquiet, and that this looked a little more serious than the normal.

"Natasha."

"Yeah?"

"What is going on?" you repeated your question, scooting closer to her and placing your hand above hers — just to make things worse.

Natasha almost whined at your action, which made you pull your hand back and frown even more. "I'm sorry,"

"No, it's not your fault." she shook her head. "It's mine."

"Then tell me." you smiled softly, lifting her head up to meet your eyes with your pointer finger. The sight of her green orbs was something you maybe never saw before.

"I..." she mumbled, clearing her throat. She then grabbed your hand and held your wrist gently, not sure of what to do next. "I don't know."

"It's okay," you whispered, bringing her hand up and placing a kiss on it. You had no problem with being affectionate and she didn't mind either, but today, it was different.

"Y/n". Natasha whispered back, looking into your eyes and getting lost in them. She was clearly unsure of what to do, and how to express what she was feeling. So she brought your hand up and placed your palm above her heart. Faster than the speed of light.

"Hey..." you cooed, tilting your head as you felt the aggressive beating against your hand. "You... are you, scared of something?"

"No." she quickly shook her head. She wasn't having any negative emotions right now. "I'm not anxious, I'm not scared.. I'm just.."

"Just what?"

The fact she was not having an anxious episode or a panic attack made you slightly relaxed, but not completely — then you realized, the touches you were giving her made her sensitive. She was needy.

The Red Room turned her into a closed person, and that didn't completely vanish when she was with you — it was like there was a bug in her system that had to be fixed, soon. She couldn't be totally open, but not completely closed.

You smiled at the thought, and leaned in closer, inches away from her face, which made her breathing uneven. "Tell me what you need, Nat."

"I..." she took a deep inhale and placed her hand on your cheek, pulling you into an unexpected kiss — a desperate one.

She kissed you frantically, her movements with urgency as she placed her hands behind your neck, trying to pull you close. You couldn't say you expected this, but it wasn't unwelcomed either.

Your hands went to her waist as she shyly crawled onto your lap, her legs hooking around your hips as she pulled away for air, her forehead against yours.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." she breathed, feeling her eyes start to burn with unleashed tears.

"You have absolutely nothing to apologize for." you murmured, arms gently wrapping around her as she straddled you. "It's okay, let's not rush things. Let's take deep breaths, mhm?"

The fact you wanted her to calm down before anything almost calmed her down instantly, but she breathed with you, then leaned her head on yours, her cheek on your hair.

"I just need something," she whispered, more calmly now. "I—I think I need you."

"And I'm here," you turned your head to press a kiss on her temple, caressing her back. The redhead melted.

Natasha leaned down to kiss your lips again, but not with urgency. She sighed softly against your lips, her hands moving to hold your face, and yours, to hold her waist. It didn't take long for her to start moving slowly — she shifted, instead of straddling your lap, her legs were around your thigh. Your eyes opened, and you broke the kiss to look at her.

"Nat, my love," you whispered. "Are you sure of this?"

"Please." she uttered back, closing her eyes and gripping your shoulders. "I know you'd ever hurt me.. you would never disrespect me, you would stop if I asked you to. Right... right?"

You smiled sadly, realizing she was trying to reassure herself, and not actually ask you this. "Yes, yes, Natasha. I want to take care of you. I want to see you, beyond that shell they turned you in. I want you to feel comfortable enough with me to ask for this, and this is such a big step for you."

She sighed in relief, hearing the honesty in your voice. She nodded, clearing her throat. She leaned down, hiding her face on the crook of her neck and pressing small, gentle kisses on it. Then her hips started to slowly move, and the tiniest bit of friction made her gasp. "Y/n..."

"Shh," you held her hips, guiding her through her own pace. The little high waisted shorts she wore rolled up, so surprisingly thick that you could feel her wetness. "That's great, Natty. Move yourself for me, like this."

Natasha whined at your words, starting to grind against you slightly faster. The clothes were starting to feel uncomfortable, as she felt the need of you seeing her. She grabbed your hands, and slowly moved them underneath her blouse.

You did what she wanted, grazing your fingernails against her skin and slowly massaging her flesh, resulting in a soft moan of hers. "Take it off." You looked at her with a questioning look, even if you had an idea of what she was asking for. "Undress me, Y/n."

Given her permission, you smoothly lifted her blouse and pulled it over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She stopped her movements briefly, just so you could slide her shorts and panties down her thighs, her heat now in contact with your leg making you groan.

She felt your hands moving up to unclasp her bra and smirked softly, holding her arms out so you could take down the straps. That woman was surely breathtaking, her body, her marks, her scars, her voice, her everything.

"Natty," you uttered, pressing kisses in the valley between her breasts and moving up, to her ear. "There's so much I wanna do with you..."

Natasha closed her eyes, your touch making her shiver again, as she began to fastly grind her pussy against your thigh. "Please." she quickly removed your shirt and soon enough, you both were completely naked.

The feeling of skin against hers, the human touch that she never felt when getting off with a strap while thinking of you was unbelievable, a touch that she knew that wouldn't hurt her. It was so good, so different from the men she seduced when a spy, so different from the men that touched her in the Red Room.

"My pretty girl," you hissed, throwing your leg above hers and starting to grind yourself with her. "So beautiful, and all mine."

"Yes," she panted, burying her face in your neck again as her nails lightly scratched your back. "Y/n, please."

"You're coming with me." you sweetly commanded. Natasha started to whisper things in Russian that you couldn't really understand, but you took it as a sign that she was close.

Soon enough, Natasha's legs started to shake and her moans on your ear got slightly louder, you both coming together, her juices mixing with yours. She didn't stop, though. You gasped, looking up at her. She still needed more.

"Touch me." Natasha growled, grabbing your hand and moving it close to her cunt. She was starting to feel confident, and you liked it.

You didn't think twice before burying your middle and pointer fingers on her hole, using your thumb to slowly rub circles on her clit, biting your lip at the sight of her back arched. All for you.

"God, Y/n," she moaned, using her own hands to squeeze her breasts and circle her hard nipples. "Yes, just like that."

"You like it like this?" you asked, shoving one more finger inside her, her moans getting louder. She slowly started to lift herself from your fingers, just to lower her hips again, riding your fingers. "You're gonna come for me again?"

"Yes!" she nodded frantically, her breaths coming in little gasps for air. She gripped your shoulders tightly, throwing her head back and orgasming again. It took a while for her to calm down, and you didn't waste time before gently taking her and laying her down on the couch, spreading her legs and pressing soft kisses on her inner thighs, licking her juices and making her squirm around.

"Y/n," she murmured quietly, reaching her arms out.

"Oh, baby." you pulled Nat into an embrace, holding her close to your chest and caressing her hair, running your fingers through her red locks. "It's alright."

Natasha whimpered, wanting to hide herself in your arms and never come out again. She closed her eyes and laid her head on your chest, arms circling your waist.

The talk about this could wait. The silence was comfortable enough for now.

[landograndprix]

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ iii

part two - part four

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ the attention is nice even if it's not from Charles.

➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ let's add some spice ☺ again, thanks for the love, love reading your guys thoughts and talk about it 🥰 google translate is my bestest friend

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y/nusername

📍 Baku, Azerbaijan

liked by landonorris, noellepicard and 561,999 others

y/nusername day 'n night ☀️🌛

tagged: charles_leclerc, manon_roux

view all 1,672 comments

charliecharlie mother being back on the grid and serving cunt again made my day <3

leclerc_16 CHARLES POLE WHOOP WHOOOP 🤩

norrizz will you be at the race tomorrow?

↳ y/nusername yes ☺

charloslesainz I'm seeing a camera..vlogging, did lando influence you for a jpg account? 👀

noellepicard bring my baby girl back, I miss her

↳ y/nusername she's packing her bags as we speak, putting her on the first flight back

noellepicard will be waiting for her

y/ncharles they grow up so fast 😫

lestappen116 hoping for a charles win tomorrow!

carlandooo zoë being the cutest once again ❤️

julieeeexo girl you have to tell us mamma's how you manage traveling with a baby, already dreading my 4 hours flight in 1 months 😭

↳ y/nusername what do you think the camera is for babes? 👀

yukisan I'm not a mom but I'll be watching these videos religiously

landonorris upsetting

↳ y/nusername I will not put my daughter in mclaren merch

landonorris the betrayal is unreal

norry4 lando trying to make zoë a mclaren baby is such a lando thing to do 💀

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y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by landonorris, noellepicard and 316,678 comments

y/nusername 🛀

view all 1,816 comments

charliecharlie MOM?!?!

bott_ass now THAT is a milf 👀

noellepicard oh my god, zoë her mom got it going on 🥵

↳ y/nusername so does her aunt 😍

noellepicard stop it, you're going to make me blush

leonardb Charles is one lucky man

norrizz mommy? no. mommy? sorry. mommy? no– 😫

stephan00 gaddamn I love milfs

tommyf Charles could you do us a favor and fumble this one and give us lads a chance?

↳ norry4 nah all these men in the comments have me crying tears lmfao

yukisan just saw a guy comment 'I'm 18 but real mature for my age' 💀

norry4 like did they not notice y/n being fine as hell on TV? 💀

yukisan she ain't showing so much skin during interviews though 😂

francisca.cgomes stunning 😍

↳ y/nusername you are 😍

manon_roux man I love milfs

↳ noellepicard we've been known babes, it's the hitting on every single mom you meet that gave it away

manon_roux imagine being attracted to men

noellepicard not by choice unfortunately

hamilt44n everyday I learn a bit more about this group of friends and they come out more unhinged everytime

robyn_diaz what a hottie 🔥

↳ landoscar babe are you blind, your man is hiding in the likes

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y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by landonorris, francisca.cgomes and 324,567 likes

y/nusername the homebody club 🍼🍷

view all 1,672 comments

julieeeexo nothing better than being at home 🥰

norrizz you and me bestie, can I join the club?

leclerc_16 I'd love for you to give us some book recommendations because goddamn, that's the book collection of my dreams 😭

↳ carlito55 I second that and cooking videos!

ricric yeah why don't we make her a boring ass influencer mom? I mean she's well on her way, she's become so boring 💀

carlito55 why are you still here then if it bothers you so much..I rather be a boring loving mom than be like you 🤮

leclerc_16 sorry that your life is so miserable that you feel the need to drag others down.

manon_roux now that's a club I want to be at 🕺

↳ y/nusername we only serve the good milk, cold coffee and luke warm wines

landonorris turn up in the club 🍼

norry4 I am so confused lmfao, they really became besties huh?

lewisham I want you to adopt me like right now 😔

sainzcarlos her recent content is giving ✨ single mom ✨ not one mention of charles or anything..

↳ yukisan the season is not over yet, Charles is still racing..I'm sure they'll be spending plenty of time together during the winter break

arthuuuur fr and the fact that lando is in her comments and liking every single post isn't helping either 💀

charlesgirlies so you guys know when they are together or not? So you know when they call each other or not? pretty sure she mentioned 'facetiming daddy' in her last vlog but okay

landonorris still no papaya

↳ y/nusername thank god no ☺

robyn_diaz stop turning this cutie into a mclaren fan 😂

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y/nusername posted to their story

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y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 419,782 others

y/nusername pjs kinda day 💤

view all 1,190 comments

charlesgirlies can I join, love me a pjs kinda day!

noellepicard okay but like..where was my invite? 😔

charliecharlie where'd you get your pjs from?

↳ leclerc_16 you should follow this account that steals y/n her outfits!

charles_leclerc ❤️

↳ hamilt44n oh look he's still alive

norry4 haven't seen you here in a while

y/nusername ❤️

sharl16 cuties 😍

bott_ass the best kind of days!

manon_roux matching with the babe again

↳ y/nusername always 🥰

charloslesainz just y/n and her mini me 🥰

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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon

Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader @champagneproblems17 @norwayxo @sunny44

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

1.6k / 19 / same continuity as TF141's free use medic

...

Soap steps inside the makeshift saferoom with you and slams the door behind him. He looks down at you, his eyes hot and aggressive from combat moments before. You'd heard him loose all kinds of insults and frankly brutal threats on the enemy soldiers after they'd almost managed to get ahold of you. Even now, with both of you relatively safe and the room clear, you know the adrenaline will take time to run its course in his system.

He sees the look you're giving him. "What?" he snaps. "Got a problem? Want me a little less loose with my tongue? Maybe you ought to be, considering all the things I could say right now."

You set your jaw, patience short. "Yeah? Say it."

"Well," he says, "let's say I think it's bloody embarrassing that you've been acting like a moody little twat ever since we left the bird."

You cross your arms. "Yeah? So what?"

"So I think you should stop acting like a goddamn child before you make me put you over my knee."

nsfw ⬇

"You're the one who wanted to come this way. I told you not to."

"And I said that I was coming anyway," he snaps, leaning closer to you so that your faces are only a few inches apart. "I'm startin' to think that might've been a mistake."

You stand your ground against him, hot, self-righteous anger simmering under your skin. "What was your first fucking clue?"

"I think the real question," Johnny says, his temper rising as well, "is why I still waste my time on the likes of you."

"Because all you care about is getting your dick wet," you snap. "And you're too lazy to buy a fucking fleshlight."

His head snaps back a little at your reply. His expression darkens. "And all you care about is making people miserable just because you're so goddamn miserable yourself, huh?"

"Yeah. That must be it." You can't deny the spark this is lighting in your gut, either. It's like you need the catharsis.

His eyes travel slowly over your body before he leans back a little, looking you up and down. His expression is still murky, but there's something like interest there. "So you're just gonna stand there and talk like that? Is that what you want to do?"

"Depends," you snap. "Are you just gonna let me keep baiting you, or are you gonna shut me up?"

His expression seems to grow more intense for a few seconds, and then, without warning, his hand tangles in your hair and his mouth presses against yours. He kisses you roughly, aggressively, groping you roughly under your uniform.

You growl into his mouth, feeling his hands on you. It's rough, but you want it rougher. "Is that all?" you hiss. "Do you even want to fuck?"

"That all you want me for?" he barks. He grabs your wrists and pulls you in close. His eyes flick up and down your body, taking in every curve, before he leans down again and whispers roughly in your ear. "And let's not get it twisted here," he adds, his voice low. "Much as I like it when you act like a little tease, I came here to fuck you. So shut up and let me do it how I want."

Before you can retort, he grabs your waist hard and pushes you against the wall. He slides one hand into your uniform, grinding the heel of his palm against your core. You groan through gritted teeth.

He chuckles. "That's more like it."

With his free hand, he grabs your chin and pulls your head back so he can meet your eyes again. "Tell the truth," he says, breathing hard. "Are you being a brat on purpose so I'll be rougher with ya?"

You feel yourself get wet immediately at that and press your thighs together. "Maybe."

The corner of his mouth twitches. "You really are a fucking troublemaker, aren't you?" He suddenly releases your chin and jerks the neckline of your uniform down, exposing your breasts and nearly tearing the fabric as he kneels down between your legs. Your breath hitches as he starts suckling on your nipple, eliciting a whimper from you.

"Soap, we... we don't have much time."

He hums around your nipple, pulling it gently. "Don't you dare go changin' your tune now, hen," he warns, his voice like gravel. "Not when you were just beggin’ for it so hard." He undoes your pants and slides his hand back in, reaching for your panties and ripping them aside. He slides two fingers inside you, and you gasp. "Not when you're already so fucking wet."

He works you over until you're arching into him, your knee tucked under his arm and the soft flesh of your tits pressed into his teeth.

He smiles wickedly. "Oh, I thought ye were a brat, but now..." He licks along the tendons in your neck, moving up to your mouth. "Now I think you're openin' right up for me." He kisses you deeply, his tongue pushing past your lips. His fingers move faster, his need driving him faster and rougher.

The comm on your neck crackles to life. You bite down on a moan just in time to hear Graves' voice in your ear. The static jolts you back to awareness. You're standing in a dark room, mid-mission, coming apart in Soap's hands.

"This is Shadow 0-1," Graves says. "Encountering trouble reaching rendezvous point." There's a beat of silence as you bite your lip, not trusting yourself to speak. "... Do you copy?"

Soap's fingers slow but don't still inside you. "Copy that, Shadow 0-1. Anyone hurt?"

"Negative," Graves replies. "Just finding an alternative route. Assuming you two are making your way just fine. How's our little medic?"

You see deep irritation flash through Soap's eyes when Graves says that. You're not sure why Graves gets such satisfaction out of flirting with you in front of your team. You just know Soap's nerves are raw and his patience is razor-thin at this point in the mission.

"I'm fine," you say quickly. "We're close to the rendezvous point. How long will you be?"

"Not long at all, sweetheart," Graves replies. You hate that your cheeks heat up immediately.

"We'll be there in ten minutes,” Soap interject, sharp and strained. He glares at you. "And we'll be keepin' our voices low."

Your heart hammers in your chest as you hear Graves chuckle lightly over the comm. “Understood. She's in good hands, right, Soap?”

Soap switches his comm off, muttering something about that bloody fuckin' idiot under his breath. Then he shifts his focus back to you.

"Soap--"

"Felt you clench up just then. Don't act like you didn't."

You ignore that, pushing on his shoulders even though he doesn't budge. "We should keep going. We need to stay focused."

His grip only tightens around you. "Focus, my arse."

He shoves his fingers into you roughly again. You cry out in surprise, your head hitting the wall behind you as your body spasms. He redoubles his speed. Your hands hit the wall, almost climbing it in your haste to regain some semblance of control. Your thighs clench and twitch with the sudden, intense pleasure his rough fingertips send through your every nerve ending.

Soap's voice is hot on your chest. "Still likin' this, hm?" His fingers drag your inner walls tortuously. "Still want to cum?"

Yeah, and you hate how close he has you to cumming already. You've been too fucking pent up. Dealing with Soap's bullshit, even when he's not inside you, just makes it worse.

He starts to slow down and you buck your hips into him impatiently. You reach for his belt, but he pushes your hand away. You curse and slide your hand to your clit instead. "Let me cum on your cock already," you grit out. You're not sure what's making you more desperate to finish--your body's urges or the urgency in the front of your mind to get to the rendezvous point.

"I wouldn't want to do that," Soap murmurs against your shoulder, his breath warm and ragged. "Not until I'm good and ready." A smirk seeps into his voice as he rubs deeper, grinding against your clit as you're trying to work it yourself. The pleasure jolts through you like lightning, and you bite back another cry. "You don't call the shots here, hen. I do." 

"You're not my--" Your protests are cut off by a gasp as he thrusts hard again, driving you closer to the edge. 

"Might have a whole team to patch up once we get there," he murmurs, nipping at your earlobe. "They'll need their medic back in tip-top shape, won't they?" 

He pulls out abruptly, leaving you panting and cursing.

"Soap-- fuck--"

As you struggle to catch your breath, Soap fixes your clothes. There's a dark look in his eyes and a smirk on his face. You know instantly he was waiting until he felt you on the very edge of your orgasm--could feel your walls tightening up on his finger--before pulling out. He wanted to get you that close to the edge and leave you frustrated.

He refastens the last buttons on your shirt and leans in close to your ear again. "Next time, don't engage with that asshole." He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "But don't worry... I'll take care of you later. Let's move out. Wouldn't want to keep your man Graves waiting."

...

more Soap / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

[wonbonie]

Twisted Games

warings : smut, mdni, college students reader and jake, inexperienced Jake, reader is menace to the society, unconcentual (a lil bit)

a/n : this is a random blurb and if I feel like writing more of this then I will. I'm not the best writer so might not be good enough...

Whistling sounds echoed in the hall as you made your way to the class. It was eight in the morning and no one was here, of course there were other students but students from your major weren't here as today's the first lecture got cancelled, you saw email informing that when you entered the building so you decided to go to the class where usually the lecture is held. You opened the door of the class and were welcomed by a completely unexpected surprised face, Sim Jaeyun a.k.a Jake. The guy almost everyone simps on. Him being this early wasn't that much of surprise as much what he was doing was. It's eight in the morning! God damn eight!! And he was holding his dick in his hands staring at you with big eyes just like a deer reacts when caught in headlights. It took him less than a minute to fix whatever he was doing but it was enough for you get a good look of his not so long but thick as fuck dick loaded with precum. Poor guy, couldn't even complete his deed because of his classmate. That's unfair, you should help him.. and you did. "What were you doing?" You asking didn't make the situation any less awkward for him, he quietly stared at his phone. One could clearly tell by looking at the screen that he was playing a chess match on some online platform and was busy maturbating to maybe his opponent. As if something like consent or manners ever existed you took one his earpods away from his ear and fixed it in your ears just to find out that your assumptions were right. He was indeed masturbating to his opponent's sexy voice. Who would've thought that Jake who could sleep with the whole campus if he tried to was jerking off to a random girl's frustrated voice. Boy could've watched porn maybe but he was masturbating to a girl crying over some goddamn chess match? You couldn’t decide if he was a loser or a pervert or both. Whatever the case was, you clearly didn't care about that. All you cared about was that thick juicy monster he hid in his pants. "Hey!" He tried to stop you but was taken aback by your actions. The game was long gone as you were on your knees in front of him and your hands were busy suffocating his member in his pants. He could barely keep his eyes open as you rubbed him. It was surprising to you how pleased he looked when you have barely done anything. Isn't he one of the most popular guys then why is he so easy? All the possibilities clouded in your head as you watched him shake beneath your hands. He was huffing, shaking; his dick twitching inside his pants, you could feel it all. You were more than feeling, you were enjoying. You were enjoying the power you were feeling, you were enjoying the authority had over him, it was pretty unusual. Unusual because he was everyone's favourite, even CR in three of of your mutual classes and was completely unapproachable. Having authority over him was unusual and tempting. Seeing him all weak was weird as he usually had his guards up. Talking to him was a rare occurrence let the thought of holding his dick. But here you were doing it, he lift his crouch up helping you to lower his pant and boxers, revealing the monster you were able to glance at. Slowly, taking your time to make him hiss and tremble, and carefully, not to make that poor thing suffer more, you moved your hands up and down. The size of his dick wasn't that big but its girth was far more than normal. Your hands started slow but eventually found its own rhythm in which it was moving now. You could see on his face how hard he was trying to supress his moans but was failing miserably. It was as if he never experienced such thing before. "Oh god" he managed to speak between his whispers and shaky breath. The whole situation was getting you excited and intrigued to see how things would unfold but it all came to a sudden end when Jake came on your hands, some of his cum managed to fly upto top of your tanktop and collarbone (which you didn't complain about). "That was the first handjob I've ever received in my lifetime"

[magniloquent-raven]

I'm getting distracted from my current projects by someone else's post again someone tell me to stop going on tumblr while I have WIPs lmfao

@rosetterer this isn't EXACTLY what you posted about but it does get there in the end

**

Twenty-four hours has never seemed like such an insurmountably long time.

Buck's had long shifts before, the boring ones when he'd stare at the alarms on the wall, willing them to go off—he can picture Maddie's disappointed scowl if she ever found out about that, but he swears he was only hoping for something small and harmless to break up the monotony—and the busy ones. Ones that leave his ears ringing with phantom sirens by the end. Those days only ever seem long in retrospect, when he's bone-tired and trying to remember all the names he asked for.

But now every shift seems to find new and shittier ways to be gruelling. Eddie's miserable and trying to act like he isn't. There's this weird, uncomfortable tension brewing between Hen and Chim. Ravi got himself transferred to B shift—probably to get away from Gerrard, and Buck can't exactly blame him, but he sort of does anyway and their new probie is terrible, and... then there's Gerrard.

Like, Buck already knew he was a piece of work, but. Knowing and experiencing are two very different things. He could barely stand keeping his mouth shut at the medal ceremony when he met the man for five seconds, and now he has to put up with him making smug, belittling comments towards all his friends, all the time. Constantly needing to remind himself he doesn't want to get fired is actually killing him.

It doesn't help that every so often he'll remember Tommy's offhand Captain Gerrard was like having the dad I already had, with a pang as he wonders what exactly Tommy grew up with. What parts of Gerrard's condescending tyranny were familiar to him. Phillip Buckley may not have been father of the year, but maybe never being looked directly at was better than being raised neck deep in toxic waste.

Every time he remembers he gets the urge to pull out his phone and call Tommy up just to... he doesn't even know. Just to hear his voice, maybe. Know if he's doing okay.

Another reason work days seem so long now, if he's being honest. He's always counting down the hours until he can see Tommy again. Like a kid on the last day of school, watching the clock tick closer and closer to summer vacation.

So, of course, right near the end of a particularly busy shift, Gerrard gets them all lined up for a lecture about how sloppy that last save was. Everyone did something wrong, and everyone needs to hear about all the ways they could have gotten someone killed, like they don't all know how risky the job is already.

By the time he's finished telling Chim it's a miracle he managed to convince anyone to let him out on calls, Buck is clenching his jaw hard enough to make his teeth ache.

"I'm sure Captain Soft-Touch loved telling you all it was okay to be mediocre, and that you were trying your best," Gerrard sneers at them all, waving a dismissive hand at very idea of Bobby's captaincy. "But the coddling ended when he retired. Sparing your feelings is going to get people killed. Diaz!" He shouts, abrupt, turning on his heel towards Eddie. Eddie doesn't flinch, but Buck does.

"Yes, sir?" He's coolly polite, and his face is carefully blank, but his posture is tense.

"If I ever catch you checking your phone at a scene again, I'll make sure you're mopping floors for the rest of your life."

Eddie's expression hardens. It was a fender-bender and Eddie didn't even touch his phone until everyone was accounted for and packed into the ambulance. "It was a text from my son. Sir." His tone veers a little to the left of polite.

"I don't care if it was from the goddamn Pope, when you're in the field your focus stays on scene. Next time your brat needs something tell him to go cry to his mother about it."

This time when Buck flinches, everyone else in line does too. Hen bites down on a grimace. Chim hisses quietly through his teeth.

"I can't do that," Eddie says flatly. "What with her being dead and all."

The firehouse is silent for a long, horrible moment. That might've taken the wind out of any decent person's sails, Buck thinks. At the very least most people would've retreated into awkwardness and ended the lecture entirely.

Gerrard's brow pinches angrily. "Don't get smart with me, Diaz."

Buck's not sure it's possible to hate someone more than he hates their new captain right now.

"I don't care about your little sob story excuses, I care that you're sloppy and distracted. If you can't handle the job and the kid, drop one of them."

Oh, he was wrong.

He hates this man so much he's choking on it, it's clogging his throat like bile and he's running out of strength to care that he shouldn't spit it out, spew it everywhere and ruin everything just for the chance of hurting this man in the process. He feels like his skin is bursting at the seams.

Eddie's biting the inside of his cheek, rage and sorrow warring silently on his face.

And Buck breaks. Bursts. "Hey, Captain, that's—"

"Can it, Buckley," Gerrard cuts him off before he can even start. It's not angry, it's not anything, he brushes Buck off like he's an annoying fly buzzing in his ear, barely worth glancing at for the two seconds it takes to tell him he doesn't care. "You're all dismissed. Get out of my sight."

Some of them flee, scurrying to their lockers, the kitchen, anywhere but here. A couple of people throw backwards glances before they walk away. Hen and Chim exchange grim looks. Eddie disappears out the back door in an angry haze. And Buck...

Buck feels. Empty. Small. Like he cut himself open trying to relieve the pressure and now there's just nothing left. No one to patch up the wound, and no reason for any of it, he didn't make an impact, he didn't help anyone, he stood there listening to his friends get degraded, and now—now he's feeling sorry for himself?

It's stupid. He's stupid. He feels like shit because, what, because he didn't get yelled at? Because his piece of shit captain took a break from implying he's a disgusting pervert?

He thinks himself in circles about it his whole way home, the pit in his stomach getting a little deeper every time he tries to will it away.

He's wallowed himself halfway through a six-pack, staring sightlessly at his TV, by the time his front door opens.

"Evan?"

One of the knots in his chest loosens. "Yeah," he calls out, not bothering to sound less pathetic than he is. "In here."

"Hey." Tommy's stopped next to the stairs, eyeing him. His gaze is assessing, but his tone is soft. He's always so careful with Buck. "Bad day?"

Buck takes another sip of his beer. Shrugs.

"Ah, one of those."

The couch cushions dip as Tommy takes a seat next to him. He's close enough that Buck doesn't have to look at him to know he's there. There's warmth radiating off him. The woodsy scent of his aftershave. Buck presses their knees together, and exhales properly for the first time in hours.

He knows he could talk about whatever he wants and Tommy would let him. He's waiting for Buck to take the lead here. Buck could avoid the issue entirely and decide to talk about anything. The fact that he can't really tell the difference between the fancy beer Tommy insists is better than the crap Buck's drinking right now. The documentary about bees he's pretending to watch. The goddamn weather.

What comes out of his mouth is a quiet, "I feel like an idiot."

Tommy pulls the beer bottle out of Buck's loose grip, puts it down next to the couch, and then takes Buck's hand in both of his. "Why?"

Buck scrubs at his eyes. "I..." He catalogues the tiny scars on Tommy's knuckles. Two, three, little dots on his index finger. A lopsided vee on his thumb. "Something happened at work."

"Did Gerrard say something to you?" There's an edge to Tommy's question, something sharp and flinty. It makes Buck's heart do dumb little somersaults.

"No." He stops, shame burning his cheeks. "Not. Not to me. That's... He was lecturing everybody, and I..."

"Evan." Tommy grips his chin, firmly, gently, guiding Buck's face until he looks him in the eye. There's a sympathetic twist to his mouth. "Tell me."

He does. As best he can when it feels like what's didn't happen is more important, and he can barely put into words why that is. But trying helps, a little. Trying to whittle it down into an explanation forces him to look at the whole of it, and realize it's not looming over him anymore.

Maybe it's just Tommy's hands on him, soothing the hurt away.

"I dunno. Feels like I could have done something differently, maybe"

Tommy hums, tilting his head in acknowledgement. "You could've."

Buck winces.

"But it wouldn't have turned out any better."

Oh.

A flower blooms on the TV, purple and white petals reaching for the sun. Buck toys with Tommy's fingers, and shifts his leg closer, hooking their ankles together.

"It felt so shitty," he mutters.

"I know."

He would, wouldn't he. Buck gets that pang in his chest again, and he pushes the rest of the way into Tommy's space. Tommy wraps his arms around him, and drops a kiss into his curls, seemingly content to let Buck situate himself however he wants.

He kind of wishes Tommy wasn't still wearing jeans, but asking him to take his pants off might send the wrong message.

"You don't think I'm, like...a bad friend, right?" He cringes his way through the question.

"No." Tommy responds matter-of-factly and without hesitation. Then the corner of his mouth twitches. "I think you're a very good boy."

Buck's entire head feels like it's on fire. A grin starts to creep across his face. It might be the first time he's smiled all day. "Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm."

Maybe he should ask Tommy to take his jeans off after all.

[smusherina]

bridges burnt - chapter 3 [epilogue series] (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: When an invitation to Gretchen Wieners' wedding ended up in your mailbox, you'd been sure it was a mistake. Only, it read your name in neat, swoopy calligraphy. It was addressed to you. And Regina George, whom you hadn't spoken to in years.

additional clarification: This is set in the universe of yard work, a series of mine that can be found on my page! Reading this one might be a bit challenging without the context of the series :)

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 4

You were leaning against the wall, an unlit cigarette in your mouth. Nicotine was the only substance you hadn't been able to cut off entirely. You smoked less now and were trying to quit, but it wasn't quite so easy. You had made a promise to smoke only once a day. This would be your third if you lit up.

"Need a light?" Janis rounded the corner, already inhaling. The scent of the smoke solved your dilemma. Fuck it. She exhaled as she extended her lighter to you. An old zippo. It was gold-ish in colour, engraved with shapes that were wearing away. You were pretty sure if she were to sell it, she'd get several hundred for it.

"Thanks." Maybe this was the universe telling you that it'd be okay. Just today. Just today, you could smoke all the goddamned cigarettes you wanted.

"When'd you and Regina get back together?" Janis leaned against the porch railing across from you. Behind her was a pretty hillside that led down into a thick forest. The sky was grey and not much light penetrated the dense clouds, making the woods look that much grimmer. You'd rather be there than here.

"A while ago." You might've not seen her in years but you knew when she was plotting something. That kiss out in the open like that was a clue, a wordless message she trusted you to get on your own. You were together. You didn't know what she was playing at or why you were going along with it. Probably old habits.

Janis snorted. "Romantic. Mia would kill me if I said we've been together for a while."

"Get off my dick, Janis," You snapped unnecessarily. You didn't want to be on the spot like this. You couldn't give many details and risk contradicting Regina.

(Why couldn't you? Why didn't you say, "Oh, hey, actually we're not together" instead of, once more, following her example like a good dog.)

"Jeez, I was just asking. Trouble in paradise? Sure didn't seem that way." She wiggled her eyebrows at you. You wished you hadn't lit up the cig so you could just walk away.

"We're fine. Why's your Mia not here?" You assumed that was her partner.

"I didn't get a plus one." She shrugged. "Besides, not sure she could've gotten out of work. They're doing a merger, or something."

"She's the breadwinner then and you're what? A tortured artist?"

"What you don't realize, my friend, is that I'm winning here. I have a beautiful wife who makes money like a printer, has a 401k and air-tight insurance, and works nine to five while I get to paint my little paintings all day." Janis took a drag. "And she fucks me good."

You groaned. "Janis, please."

"Meanwhile you act like you're better than me when, in fact, I'm happy and you're miserable." She finished off with a snarky smile.

Once upon a time, you'd fantasized about staying in the garage all day, fixing old cars as a hobby, and greeting Regina when she got home from her Real Adult Job, wearing a sexy pantsuit and carrying a mysterious briefcase.

Not anymore. You wore the suits, you carried the briefcase, and you did not fix old cars as a hobby.

"You should give motivational speeches. Think Northshore would love to have you back." You took a deep drag. Deflecting with sarcasm was cheap but effective.

"You think?" Her smile softens. "Seriously, though, how've you been?"

"It's been... Good." It had been good recently. You knew, though, that Janis was asking about the last ten years and not just your week. If you were to compile a list of all the good and bad things from that long a time period, one would be perhaps a page and the other a several-foot scroll. Respectively.

"Wow. I forgot how close-lipped you are." Janis said. You could tell she was disappointed. You'd never been friends, not really, not ever like her and Damian, but there was an understanding between you.

You let up.

"We got back together after college." You swallowed, trodding on eggshells, being as vague as possible. "I was cleaning up my act, trying to get away from it all. Moved back into town and met Regina coincidentally. Rest is history, I suppose." You eyed the hills. The view turned into misty nothingness before you could tell if it was the ocean there or more land.

"I heard your dad passed," Janis said, blunt but not mean. "Sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, I guess." You rubbed your forehead. It wasn't tactful to tell a near-stranger that you weren't actually all that upset about it. "To be honest, it was a long time coming. He was in bad shape."

He'd gotten ill when you were in college. At first, all the business stuff was being handled by his team but as more and more time passed and he showed no signs of getting better, he started nagging you to do more for the company.

What the fuck you were gonna do? You didn't know shit about business and, besides, were high out of your mind half the time. You didn't want any of it, didn't want his blood money and shady practices. But you were gonna get it.

Now, you could say you had things under control. Somewhat. You sold some locations, passed them off to people better suited, and sure, lost some money in the process but you weren't ambitious like your dad had been.

If it was up to you, you'd keep the one shop you'd always worked at and make an honest, humble living the remainder of your days. Start a project you could work on for the next several years and be content.

"Sorry to hear that." Janis stumped her cigarette on the ground. You did the same, dropping the stub and snuffing it out with your shoe.

"Well." You sighed. "I'm not."

With that, you turned and walked back towards the doors leading into the hall. Janis followed behind you.

People were still mingling around the place, the bride and groom yet to make an entrance. Your table was somewhere in the middle, not one of the important ones but with a clear view of the stage and where the important people were meant to be sitting.

The mother of the bride was eyeing the room like a hawk scanning for prey. Her eyes didn't catch yours but you could tell she was keen on Janis. The all-black ensemble stood out almost as much as Regina's white stole.

Speaking of her. She was sitting and chatting with Shane, seeming cool and casual. Damian was there too, engaged and laughing at the right parts.

You approached deliberately slowly, trying to hear what they were talking about before you sat down.

"-came back to town after college and we hit it off." She turned her head slightly and made eye contact with you. "Baby," She greeted you.

You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling warm. "Reg," You sat down and, as casually as you could, draped an arm over the back of her chair.

"I was just telling Shane how we met." Her sharp eyes met yours. "What'd you tell Janis?"

You needed to get your stories straight. Act natural. It was sheer luck you'd both set the same timeline.

"I was just telling her how we met up after college. If I remember correctly, wasn't it, uh, at uh..." You fumbled. "The grocery store?"

"Yes, mom saw you and I'm sure she didn't let you leave without a date set for when you'd come to dinner." Regina finished for you. Shane was buying it, slowly crawling out of his shell. You were quickly realizing that the gay people had all been shoved to one table. Hopefully, that didn't bode anything.

"That's Mrs George for you." You knew it was Ms now but old habits die hard.

Regina smiled at you, hand coming to rest on your knee. You shivered. It scared you how genuine she seemed. She could be awarded an Oscar for this shit.

You watched her, really looked at her. She was still so beautiful. She'd always been pretty beyond belief, gorgeous like a movie star, but the confidence she carried with herself now made it all a stunning, deadly combination.

Even so, you couldn't help feeling melancholy. You hadn't seen any of it, certainly were not the reason for it, and chances were this little scheme she was cooking up was at your expense. She had every right to seek vengeance against you.

You wondered if it was worth it to try and enjoy it. Would it hurt to dream a little? You could use a break from practicality.

You closed your eyes for a moment.

"Baby?" Your eyes fluttered open as her hand came to caress your cheek. You leaned into the touch.

"Yeah?" You asked and tilted forward, closer to her. Regina mirrored you, putting a hand on your knee and leaning some of her weight on it as her lips neared yours.

"Just focus on me," She grinned and you resisted the urge to steal a kiss. "Trust me."

"Always." You whispered, reverent in just the same way you used to be. You'd known it for a long time, the irresistible fate you'd sworn yourself to, that you'd go back to her every time.

"Ehem," Someone cleared their throat behind you. You went to look but Regina kept a hold on you. She placed a languid kiss on your lips, sending your mind into orbit, before turning towards the person so rudely invading your bubble.

"Yes?" She almost hissed, smiling in a way that was more like a threat. All teeth and sharp edges.

"The bride and groom are about to enter, so it would be really, really nice if you two could can it for a few moments, 'kay? Thanks!" The maid of honour chirped, voice so high pitched you had to wonder if she was inhaling helium on her off-time.

Regina watched her scurry away, eyes going up and down her retreating back in a manner that surely should've made you jealous. You knew, though, that for one, Regina didn't like girls that wore dresses and, secondly, that she was up to something. She wasn't checking out the maid of honour—she wished—but evaluating her.

"What a bitch, right?" Regina turned to the rest of the table with a sneer on her face.

You bit your cheek to hide a smile as everybody agreed. This was going to be utter shit. Total, absolute chaos with a side of heartbreak and, potentially, a ruined wedding.

You dreaded it. You anticipated it. Both could be true at once.

Notes: Hello all! Been some time! I've been in my summer groove, having a proper vacation. It's been liberating. Hopefully there's some interested readers for this series :) Taglist posted separately! If you want to be added, comment on that post please.

[xoxoladyaz]

It Hits Different This Time, Part 2

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Rock Star Eddie x Steve Harrington

TW: Mentions of alcohol, drug abuse

QUICK AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm so sorry that the last entry was so angst heavy, I promise this one provides some comfort! Eddie needed to take a big step here and he really, really does. Also, much love to everyone who commented, I've tagged you at the bottom of the post - let me know if anyone else would like to be notified of the next entry!

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

It was another five days before Steve heard from Eddie. Another five torturous days of radio silence, only this time, there wasn’t anything online. No new articles were popping up saying he’d been spotted somewhere, no new TikToks of him meeting fans on the street. The rest of the band was MIA too; Steve had thought about sending Jeff a text to check-in but ultimately decided to wait another couple days. Robin had been texting with Chrissy, after all, and if something bad had gone down, she would know.

When Eddie did finally call, it wasn’t from a number that Steve recognized.

“I’m getting a call from Malibu.”

“Holy shit!” Robin sat up on the other end of the couch and shot him a look. “Okay, just breathe dingus, okay? It’s going to be okay, I’ll be here the whole time.” She squeezed his ankle comfortingly. “You can do this.”

Steve accepted the call with shaky hands and brought his phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey Steve.”

He shut his eyes and swallowed, trying to stop his voice from cracking. “Eddie.”

He heard Eddie let out a watery laugh across the line. “Do you, uh, have a minute?”

“Mmmm hmmm,” Steve hummed. He physically couldn’t get an actual word out. 

This was it. Eddie was leaving, he’d cheated, it was over – 

“I’m in rehab.”

Steve’s eyes shot open. “You’re what?”

Robin started rocking back and forth. “Turn it up!” She hissed, and Steve obliged, turning up his volume so she could just barely hear what was being said. (Was this a private conversation? Yes. Did Eddie know he’d probably immediately tell Robin everything? Also yes. 

Was this news big enough to warrant having Robin eavesdrop?

Absolutely yes.)

“Yeah, I’m, uh, at the Promises Treatment Center in Malibu,” Eddie continued. “We got back about five days ago and when I saw your note, I – 

“Look, Steve,” Eddie continued, and his voice was choked up, like he himself couldn’t speak, “I fucked up. I’ve fucked everything up. You are – you said in that note that you didn’t want me to give up on my dreams, and you’re right, making it big and getting famous for my music was my dream for literal years. Because I kept thinking “once I get a record out there,” “once I go on tour,” “once I win a Grammy,” “once I get a million dollars,” then I’d finally be happy. 

“But it turns out the only thing being famous has done is make me pretty fucking miserable,” Eddie let out a harsh laugh. “But I was so goddamn convinced that this was it, you know, that I’d accomplished my dreams so I must be happy that I started taking whatever I could get my fucking hands on to make me feel that way. The thing is drugs and the alcohol and the parties never made it fucking last. It just made every other second that I was in the public eye that much worse.

“But I’d still made it, you know? I felt like I didn’t deserve to feel this fucking miserable. And everyone back home was so fucking proud and I didn’t want to let them down - ” Eddie paused for a few moments to clear his throat before continuing. “I didn’t want to let you down. Because Eddie “The Freak” Munson didn’t deserve you, but maybe Eddie “The Rock Star” could.”

Steve can feel his own throat closing up and he can barely see Robin’s face, his eyes are watering that bad. “Baby,” he sobbed. “I wish you’d told me.”

“Me too,” Eddie sniffled across the line. “I didn’t though, I just kept self-medicating and ignoring it, because that’s always worked,” he huffed sarcastically. “But then - ” Eddie cut off again, and Steve can hear that he’s trying so hard to hold back his own sobs, “then I came home last week and realized that I’d missed our goddamn anniversary because I was too fucking high and that you were gone and I just – I called Jeff and I told him to get me on a plane out here because you – you, Steve Harrington, you are the best thing in my goddamn life. And the only dream I want to chase now is the one where we get married and adopt some kids and grow old together.”

“Eddie,” Steve sobbed out again, and he heard Eddie start to cry too, and then suddenly they were crying together, even from hundreds of miles away.

“So I’m gonna be here for the next six weeks,” Eddie finally continued, his voice still full of tears. “I’m, uh, meeting with a therapist for a few hours every day and working through my shit. I wanna be a guy who deserves good things, baby. I wanna be a guy who deserves you.”

“What – what about the band?” Steve sniffled, rubbing at his eyes. A handful of Kleenex appeared in front of him. Robin must have gotten up to grab them at some point. He shot her a thankful nod and patted at his eyes; Robin nodded back and did the same, her face flushed that bright shade of red that accompanied her own tears.

“Murray wrote a provision into our contract where if one of us checks into rehab, then the band is instantly put on a two-year, non-negotiable hiatus.”

“But – what about your momentum, the label kept talking about it?”

“The label can go fuck themselves” Eddie practically growled over the phone. “Who do you think hosted the party where I first got my hands on the hardcore stuff anyways?”

“Babe - ”

“Murray said he was going to look into some sort of contract termination so we can sign somewhere else. And even if we didn’t have that thing written into our contract, we probably would have gone on hiatus anyways, or worse. That – the last leg was rough. Gareth was just as fucked up as I was and Jeff was fucking pissed. He kept having to pull Gareth out of orgies and shit while babysitting Phil and I too.”

“Did,” Steve swallowed harshly, “did - ”

“No, baby, never,” Eddie declared quickly. “Even when I couldn’t fucking see straight, you were the only one I wanted to be with. I honestly don’t even know who we were partying with at the end there, the label sent them for some PR shit, I don’t know. It’s just another reason why we want out.”

“Oh,” Steve murmured, “okay. Good. Or, well, not good. You know.”

“Yeah, baby, I do,” Eddie replied softly. 

They sat in silence for a few moments, just listening to each other breathe. “I, uh,” Eddie started up again quietly, “I’m wearing the ring.”

“Yeah?” Steve found himself smiling despite the fresh tears welling up in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Eddie’s voice was just as choked up as before. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Eddie - ”

“Look, I know, I know I hurt you so, so badly and I’m never going to fucking forgive myself for what I did, but I – you’re everything I want, baby. If I had to give up Corroded Coffin tomorrow for you, I would do it in a heartbeat. And I – I know I can’t expect for you to just, like, forgive me after the shit I pulled, but – will you be there, when I get out? Can I – I want to come home to you,” Eddie finished, and Steve could hear that he was crying again.

Steve looked over at Robin, who was wiping more tears out of her own eyes. They looked at each other for a few moments.

It might be crazy, but I think I want to say yes.

I don't blame you. I mean, this is one hell of an apology, especially from Mr. “I’ll Never Need to Go to Rehab Ever.”

Yeah. And I love him.

And you love him.

“I’ll be there,” Steve murmured reassuringly, and Eddie burst into a new wave of muffled sobs on the other end of the phone. “Just do what you need to do and come home when you’re ready, okay? I’ll be waiting for home.”

“At home?” Eddie’s voice broke on a whimper.

“At home. I’ll even clean the bathrooms and everything,” Steve joked, and Eddie let out a loud laugh despite the quiet sobs Steve could still hear. 

“Really? You’ll be there?”

“Yeah, Eddie. I’ll be there. We can get through this.”

“Together.”

“Together. Because I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.”

“Fuck, Stevie,” Eddie let out an incredulous laugh again, “I love you so fucking much, baby. I’m going to marry the fuck out of you someday.”

“Save the sweet talk for when you get home, okay?” Steve could feel his heart settling in his chest, and whatever tears he’d had left to cry were all gone now. There was just the twinge of missing Eddie, but that would go away soon enough. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Eds.”

“Thanks, baby.” Eddie’s answer was soft now. “So I, uh, get a couple hours to call people every day from one of the site’s phones. Can I keep calling you?”

“Please,” Steve heard Eddie exhale in relief. “Every day sounds perfect.”

“Good, good. I’ll have to, uh, use some of my time to talk to Wayne, but the rest of it is yours, baby. And Gareth, Jeff threw him into a different center too. His check-in was much less voluntary though.”

“Shit,” Steve winced. “Is there anything Robin or I can do to help?”

“Take Jeff and Chrissy out to a nice dinner and use the Amex,” Eddie snorted, causing Steve to laugh.

“Consider it done.”

“Good." Steve heard the sound of another voice behind Eddie. Eddie replied something Steve couldn't understand, but it was in the affirmative. "Doc says my time is up for today. My, uh, talk with Wayne took up a lot of time,” Eddie returned, and his voice trembled as he spoke. “But I’ll call you tomorrow and I’ll see you in six weeks.”

“Yes you will.” Steve shut his eyes and imagined Eddie was standing right in front of him. Eddie with his riotous curls and holey graphic tees and tight jeans. Eddie with his rings on his fingers, with Steve’s ring on his finger. Eddie, standing across from him and smiling at him with that twinkle in his eye that had first caught Steve’s attention all those years ago. 

“I love you, Eds.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Tags List: @gregre369 @starman-jpg @skoomy-doompy @thequeenrainacorn @sleepyboosstuff @strawberrykore @paintsplatteredandimperfect @amoris-no-smut-allowed @steve-the-hairrington @iknewyouweremuggle @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sunfloweringstories @loverkasp @hyperfixationgoddess @steddie-as-they-go @zerokrox-blog @messrs-weasley @thelittleclare @lovelyscot

[poppy-metal]

poppylicious i hope you know if you did write biodad!art i would read it no problem <3 in fact i encourage it

-🐞

stepcest isn't enough I need him to actually be my father <////3

tw: incest. of the father/daughter variety. dubcon cause he's drunk.

hhhhh I'm thinking of being daddys girl and tragedy strikes. your mother passes away and you see your dad become a shell of himself. and you love your dad so much. you think when mommy was alive he was happier - brighter. maybe if you became like your mom, and did the thing's women do for their husbands, daddy would be happy again?

thinking of dressing in one of her flowery sundresses - because art hasn't touched her side of the closet. refuses to get rid of her things. you'd stayed to take care of him instead of heading off to college because you're so worried about him - drinking himself to sleep every night on the couch because he can't sleep in his - their bedroom anymore - you have to fix things. you even do your makeup how your mom did - how daddy liked it.

thinking of art being drunk when you come down the steps in your mother's dress and makeup and for a few moments he thinks you're really her - open mouthed and in awe as he watches you float across the room to straddle him. he comes back to himself when you lean into kiss him and he sees your eyes - your eyes that are different from your mother's - and he's horrified - but it's too late - you're already kissing him. and your mouth is warm and soft and you're warm and soft. and you smell like your mom.

he sobs against your mouth - trembles when you pull back and tell him it's okay - you're going to take care of him now. "shhhhh dad. its okay. you can touch me -"

and he shakes his head, his hands coming to your waist as if to push you away "baby stop - what - what are you wearing.." he tries to invite reason into his body, but you're not getting off his lap, you're moving in closer - reaching down into his sweats to palm his cock. and he's hard. he's fucking hard.

"oh god," he cries when you stroke him. he tells himself it's because you smell like her and you're wearing her things and he misses your mother so much - misses her body so much and he hasn't so much as touched his dick in months. he's been so fucking depressed. he hasn't been a good father. he's neglected you. that's why you're acting out. he grabs your wrist. weakly tries to pry your hand from around his hard dick, "stop. take that off - this is - you can't be doing this -"

and you take your hand away and he thinks you're going to listen to him - and you do - you do but not the way he wanted you too. you do take the dress off, peeling the straps down your shoulders until the material flutters down to expose your bare breasts.

"honey - no -" he chokes - but then you're coming in again, holding the back of his head and bringing his face to your chest. your warm tits envelop him and he's delirious. you smell so good. his brain is fuzzy. his throat is dry. his dick jerks in his sweats and when you reach down again he can't push you away.

he starts to cry then. and you coo at him, "im gonna take such good care of you daddy." you tell him. "you won't feel bad ever again." and then he feels it, your slick pussy at the head of his cock - he makes a wet sound deep in his throat, pitiful and weak and then you're sinking down on him, gasping - and you're so warm.

"oh baby." he cries. doesn't know if it's out of guilt and shame or pleasure because goddamn it feels - it feels good. tight wet heat. sucking him in. wrapping around him. hugging him. he's been so cold and miserable lately. you rock in his lap and cling to the back of his head as you start to bounce.

"daddy," you whimper. breathless. his lips brush against your nipples when you go up and down and you clench around your dad's cock. feel him let out a half groan half wail as you ride him. "you just needed a h-hug that's all. I'll be your girl - I'll give you hugs, daddy - with my pussy - "

he wants to die. he wants to die and be with your mother. he should die. he should die right now. but he wouldn't be with your mother. he'd be in hell.

hell for the way he's hard and twitching inside you - hell for the way he's moaning through his sobs. hell for the way he's so much stronger than you, even drunk and confused and he hasn't thrown you off him. hell for the way his hands eventually curl around your waist, start helping you bounce more properly on his dick. hell for the way he can feel his balls starting to draw up and tighten with impending release.

"I love you, dad." you moan in his ear.

oh god, he thinks and closes his eyes as he starts to cum inside you - I love you too, baby.

[brayneworms]

gouge away (if you want to) | johnny joestar

kinktober day ten: kissing

word count. 2.4k

content. disabled johnny, but like his prostate works, anal fingering, prostate orgasm, kissing, johnny cries after sex it's canon, gender-neutral reader, fluff, mentions of ableism, established relationship, this is sappy

♪ gouge away - pixies

kinktober mlist | regular mlist

For a while—a long while—after his accident, Johnny thought he'd never be with someone again.

A part of it was the paralysis. Okay, a big part of it was. He learns after using the chair for a bit that he sorta stops becoming a real person to most people, that their eyes just sorta slide past him. Oh no, how sad, that guy in the chair must have it so bad. Don't be rude and stare, now. Sometimes he wishes they would stare at him, like he knows they wanna. He almost finds their determination to ignore him totally more jarring.

And that's only half the problem. The other part is that even if he could find someone, his goddamn dick doesn't work anymore. Which would for sure pose a problem. So Johnny resigns himself miserably to a sexless and potentially loveless life, and pretends it doesn't make him want to die.

Still. Anyways. It all seems kinda redundant now, 'cause he's lying under the sky in the dirt with his pants halfway off, and you're—you're doing something, or you're tryin' something that Johnny is extremely skeptical about. A bit of time travelling with Gyro had taught him many times that there was a lot of things about the human body he was ignorant of, but he still can't help but be dubious of the claim you made to him a few minutes ago.

I'm gonna make you cum.

At once, a protest had risen to his lips. You can't. Almost a reflex. You'd cocked your head in inquiry, and Johnny had gone redder, down to the tips of his ears hidden by his hat. It's my—it doesn't work. Down there doesn't...

You seem to consider this for a few moments. Then you say, there's something else we can try.

You disappear inside the tent and come out with the bottle of aloe vera they'd been using to treat the burns that had blistered as a result of the unforgiving desert sun. He had red peeling skin all up his shoulders and the bridge of his nose.

He watches dubiously as you squeeze a clear, cold glob onto your fingers. "Wh—where are those goin'?"

He's pretty sure he has an idea.

"You know what a prostate is, Johnny dear?" You always call him that. Johnny dear, like it's all one word. Johnnydear. He always gripes and groans about it and then has to turn away extremely quickly to hide his flush. He's going to examine the reaction he gets when you baby him sometime, he promises himself, just not right now. He's got a lotta shit on his plate, okay? Corpses to find and such.

"N-no," he answers, stammering when you kneel between his legs and spread his thighs gently apart. He sucks in a breath; one of your fingers leaves a cool trail of aloe along the skin there.

"A prostate," you tell him patiently, like you're not situated between his naked thighs, "is a gland that people with your particular reproductory set are born with."

"You sound like Gyro," he mutters. "Kinda killing the mood a little."

"I just want to make sure you're fully informed." You roll your eyes. "It's just that you're leaking precum, see?" To his mortification, you swipe your fingers over the tip of the dick he can't feel and hold them up; under the starlight, they gleam, and he burns with embarrassment. "Means you might be able to feel it. Means I might be able to make you cum."

Johnny swallows hard. He wants—it sounds good. Sounds great. But with the hope comes that fear, an ever-present shadow. What if it doesn't work?

"Hey." You lean over him, and before Johnny can protest you've captured his lips, a slow, deliberate cling. Johnny loves kissing you. He thinks it might be his favourite thing to do, other than jockeying and he can't do that anymore, so this takes an automatic first place. He sighs and melts against you like softened butter, his hands winding themselves over your shoulder and jaw. He loves everything about it. The closeness, the slow gentle intimacy, the way you smell. That last part is probably weird, 'cause you mostly smell like sweat and leather, but Johnny likes it all the same.

You kiss for a while; one of your hand strokes soothing shapes into his ribcage. When you pull back, the panic that had been rearing up inside him has faded to a dull murmur.

"Don't get in your head about it," you whisper. "If you can't feel it, then that's that. You know I won't think less of you."

A lump rises in Johnny's throat, and he shields his eyes from the burning sun of you seein' right through him. "I know," he says, almost petulantly.

"So? Wanna give it a try?"

A part of him doesn't. A part of him is so, so scared. But a bigger part of him, the one that likes kissing you and likes the way you smell and the way you touch him and look at him and everything, really, is nodding before that first part can protest. You kiss him again with a smile, a little faster, a little dirtier this time. This is another thing Johnny likes about kissing—it can take so many different forms. Even if he did find the corpse pieces and get the use of his legs back, Johnny reckons he'd still like kissing more than real sex.

Your mouth starts moving down, sweeping the sensitive skin of his neck and collarbones, the valleys of his pectorals, a nipple. The last one makes Johnny gasp and you giggle, and he splays a palm over his face in embarrassment. You coax such stupid noises outta him. But you seem to enjoy it, so whatever.

Down, down, down. Somewhere between his navel and his pubic bone he stops feeling it. But it still somehow feels sorta nice, which doesn't make a whole lotta sense but it does to him, so. He watches you between his fingers as you reach between his legs, he thinks prodding.

You look up at him. "I'm going to put a finger in, okay?"

Johnny nods eagerly. "Don't gotta tell me. I won't feel it."

You roll your eyes. "I'm still gonna tell you. We can stop whenever, okay?"

"Okay," Johnny says impatiently, and wiggles his hips. You smack his hipbone playfully, which does nothing to temper his brattiness on account of him not feelin' a fuckin' thing. Then you get a quiet, serious, concentrated look on your face that Johnny usually only sees when you're fighting. Or when he's making you cum. That expression, more than any of your words or hesitation, it what makes him quiet down and take it serious.

There's a silence that stretches on. Johnny supposes you must be doin' something, considering the slight furrow he can see between your brows and the achingly careful, gradual movement of your wrist. Finally, after about a minute, you look up at him.

"My finger's in," you tell him, and Johnny bites his lip.

"Can't feel it," he says. He's starting to think this was a really bad idea.

"Just lemme—hold on," you say, and your wrist moves a little, and then—

Johnny keens. He feels, he fuckin' feels so much that it lights him up from the inside and sets his nerves alight, some part deep inside him that he didn't even know existed 'till five minutes ago and it's so good it immediately brings tears to his eyes.

"Oh," he says like he's surprised, and he is, apparently so much so that it's all he can say. "O-oh, oh, oh—"

Your finger retracts back into nothingness, and Johnny bites back a sob. "Johnny?" you ask worriedly. "Did you—is it too much?"

"No, no," he babbles, feeling incoherent already. You brush his hair back from his face with your free hand, the one that ain't inside him, your thumb stroking over his cheek. "It was—fuck, felt so weird. But good. Really, really good. Can you—are you gonna do it again?"

"Will if you want me to," you answer lovingly, and Johnny is biting back another sob for a whole different reason. "Might be a bit intense, Johnny dear. You sure you wanna?"

"Yes, yeah." He stares up at you beseechingly, feeling a bit pathetic but also too far gone to give a shit. "Please, I wanna—I wanna feel it again."

You nod, leaning over to kiss him again. Johnny relaxes into the embrace, losing himself in the familiar touch of your lips, the smell of you, taking the bite out of his surge of panic—and then with no warning you're brushing against that spot inside him again and he's moaning into your mouth, loud and unrestrained. It's pitchy and startled, and your free hand cups the back of his head as he pulls away in shock.

"Fuck, Jesus Christ," he swears, slamming his head back against the dirt. "O-oh, oh god, ohgodohgod—"

"Still good?" you ask, and your fingers made a weird sort of curling motion and it occurs to Johnny that you're movin' them in and out, sort of like you would if you were actually fucking him, and the thought makes him flush so hard he feels feverish. You're fucking him. You're fucking him.

He nods deliriously. "Mhm, yeah," he gasps out, feeling breathless, feeling giddy. "Don't stop, feels so fuckin' good, oh my god."

Your fingers press into him over and over like you're ringin' a bell, and all the while you kiss him and for the first time in ages Johnny feels that both parts of his body are equal. The bottom half has come alive under your jackhammering fingers, the top half consumed by you and your kiss. The kissing makes it so much better, 'cause Johnny reckons if anyone else had their fingers in his ass he'd probably hate it even if they were touching his whatdidyoucallit like that and making him feel amazing. He'd hate it 'cause they wouldn't be you.

The kissing reminds him it's you. The chaps on your lips, the smell of you, the feel of your face and skin, your body pressing into his. It's so all consuming it makes him wanna cry, in a good way, in a weird way. Your fingers move faster and weirder, and Johnny starts making those stupid oh! oh! noises again, stifling them against your mouth, and your tongue presses in and you swallow them whole.

All too soon, Johnny feels a weird tightening, one he hasn't felt since before the incident. He feels a constriction of panic, his fingers clutching at your clothing. "I—hah!—I f-feel weird."

"Bad weird?" Your fingers slow down, nearly stop, and Johnny whines.

"No, no, good weird, good," he pants. "Move again, fuck."

You pick up the pace; Johnny shudders, tensing in your hold all over again. He feels like he's burning, like he's sweating out everything bad he's ever felt.

"Do you mean you're gonna cum?" you ask, your voice lower this time, so close to Johnny's ear it makes him shiver. The harsh brush of your chapped lips against the soft skin there makes his body feel electric.

"I think," he whispers, eyes screwing shut. "Sorry—oh—I think, yeah."

"Don't feel sorry," you tell him almost sternly. "I want to see you cum, Johnny. Wanna see you cum so hard your pretty little head goes blank. You deserve it, yeah?"

"Yeah," he gasps out. "I deserve it."

What you do next with your fingers is almost brutal in the wracks of shivering pleasure it sends simmering through Johnny's body; every curl of them has him writhing and gasping and moaning, he must sound so stupid but you seem to be liking it and fuck, he's liking it, he likes feeling a little stupid and helpless while you take care of him and he's definitely gonna have to unpack that, but later, 'cause—

"I'm gonna cum," he gasps, hands flying out to curl in your clothing. "Baby, baby, I'm gonna cum, I—kiss me? Kiss me, okay, I wanna, oh, oh oh oh—"

You crash your lips together, and your fingers curl up one last lingering time and Johnny shatters. White stars explode over his vision, shatter inside his head, and for a split second it feels like every cell in his body freezes up and screams and dies. He's vaguely aware of some long, drawn-out, breathless noise he's making and the way you swallow it with your mouth.

It takes several seconds for him to come back down to earth. When he does it's to the sensation of you running your fingers through his hair and pressing soft, feathery kisses to his cheeks.

He pants like a dog. When you see his blue eyes on you, you sit up, seem to retract your fingers from between his legs. Your image starts to blur, and Johnny sees your expression crease in concern. He realises he's crying. Not like, actually, not like he's got something to be upset about. He's just... tearing up. Like someone's turned a faucet on behind his eyes and just left it there. He pushes the heels of his hands into the sockets and presses down, willing it to stop, willing the overwhelming feeling blooming in his chest to deflate.

"Hey, hey." Your voice, low and soothing, pressed into his hair, your arms holding him tightly. "You okay?"

"Yes," he says almost angrily. "I'm fine. Dunno why I'm—fuck. Sorry. I'm good, I promise I'm good. That was... so, so good."

Your expression of concern gives way slightly. "You sure?"

"Yeah." Johnny sucks in a shaky, wet breath. "Thanks. Thank you. I didn't even... I didn't even know I could feel like that anymore. Not just 'cause of—you know." He gestures vaguely to the lower half of his body. "All of it. Like, I didn't think anyone would wanna—while I'm still like this. And I—I figured I didn't deserve it, or something. But... it was really good."

Your smile is a little sad. "I'm glad, Johnny dear. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Now that we know it works, we can do it again. And again, and again." He flushes, and you laugh sweetly, and Johnny could just die to the sound of it. "Still, we should get some rest for tonight. Gyro will skin us alive if we oversleep again."

You're right, of course. Johnny lets you maneuvre him onto his sleeping skin, and you unroll yours right next to him. When you do, Johnny reaches for you, clinging like a damn insect. But you don't seem to mind, 'cause you wrap your arms around his waist and bring him in even closer. He tucks his head into your shoulder.

He thinks that he'll get to kiss you tomorrow, too.

His sleep is dreamless and deep.

[waynes-multiverse]

Rehab – Epilogue

Series Summary: Thanks to Soldier Boy, the CIA was able to develop Project Bloom under the fierce leadership of Grace Mallory: a final cure to Compound V and a hopeful end to the supe epidemic three years after the explosive incident at Vought. A secret rehab facility in Upstate New York is supposed to help former heroes find their way back to humanity. The catch, though? Soldier Boy has never fucking agreed to any of this shit and is surely not happy about being powerless for the first time in his goddamn long life.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18, language, some crack, a bit of fluff and angst, hard decisions, a lot of goodbyes & all the feels

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: We're here, babes! End of the road! Thank you guys so much for everything. This was a wild ride, and I'm glad I had you in my passenger's seat 💚

Feedback is my fuel 🖤

<< Chapter 8 || Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Epilogue: twin flame

You’re gonna be nowhere The loneliest kind of lonely It may be rough goin’ Just to do your thing’s the hardest thing to do…

“Morning.” Y/N smiles brightly as he stirs and slowly wakes. “Wakey, wakey, sunshine.”

Blue eyes flutter open and fearfully widen, his brow scrunches in confusion as he looks around and scans his environment. He tries to wiggle free of the handcuffs around his wrists, keeping him tied to the metal bed frame.

Not that it matters – he can’t leave either way.

She turns off the radio with a blissful sigh. “You know, that was one of his favorite songs. Your father’s,” she clarifies. “He sang it all the time. It was fucking annoying.”

“Why the hell can’t I move? Get me the fuck out of here,” the man in a sky-blue hospital gown demands and lifts his head off the mattress, only a few inches, attempting to get up.

Needless to say, that attempt is futile and fails miserably.

“Don’t strain yourself, John, or you might shit the bed. And I ain’t cleaning that mess… You’ve been in a coma for three weeks,” Y/N tells him with an amused smile. “Oh, and you can’t move because you’re paralyzed from the waist down. I even doubt that meager dick’s still working.”

His nostrils flare and let out a huff. “It’s Homelander, you bitch. No one calls me by that name.”

“Yeah, not anymore.” Y/N twitches her shoulders in mock apology. Her mouth curves into a Machiavellian grin. “Scared yet?”

“Where the fuck am I?” he growls through gritted teeth, upset by her blatant disrespect.

“You’re at a rehab facility for former supes. I mean, it’s discontinued. Abandoned, really. It’s just you and me,” she replies flatly and then forces a customer-service smile to her lips. “So, guess I’ll be your nurse for the day. How are we doing, you–”

Her brow furrows as she tries to remember the exact words, pensively pursing her lips.

“Wait…” She holds up a finger to stop him from interrupting her as she fishes out a crumpled piece of paper from her jeans pocket. She squints her eyes in concentration as she skims over its content.

“Ah yes!” With a smile, she clears her throat and reads from her paper. “So, how are you doing, you bootlicking… carpet-munching… cockboy?”

Homelander frowns at the insults. Y/N does too, but for a different reason as she shakes her head.

“Jesus fucking Christ, your dad’s handwriting is an atrocity,” she mutters as she tilts her head with narrowed eyes at the paper in her hands.

The blond man’s eyes narrow in both shock and confusion. “How do you know my father?”

“Oh, uhm, I’m his wife,” Y/N says and smiles complacently. “Which technically makes me your step-mommy, but let’s not go there, you–… Wait.” She peeks once more at the paper in her hands. “You cumguzzling… cowfucking… cuck fluffer.” Her brow draws up, impressed. “Huh, nice. Little alliteration going on there. Guess all those books paid off…”

“Can we skip to the part where you tell me what the fuck you’re doing here?” Homelander snaps impatiently, annoyed with the shenanigans.

“Alright, your dad sent me here to, you know… gloat,” Y/N says simply and shrugs, flashing him an easy smile. “He wanted you to know that he’s the one that put you into this damn bed. Funnily enough, he once woke up in this very room, tied to a bed. Not in a kinky way, though. Although, he probably would’ve loved that…” She chuckles fondly. “This place really changed him, but I doubt it’ll do the same for you.”

“And why the fuck isn’t he here telling me this, huh?” John asks with a challenging look. “I didn’t reckon him for a fucking coward.”

Y/N’s facade cracks a little at his words, a vicious smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, he was not a coward. He was the bravest man I’ve ever known. He was and is a fucking hero and surely getting celebrated as one.”

Y/N leans back in her chair and grabs the remote from the bedside table, switching on the TV. A news report flickers across the screen. It’s a recording from a few weeks ago, but Homelander doesn’t know that. It shows a row of celebratory parades held all over the country. A statue of Soldier Boy is being erected next to the Statue of Liberty.

Homelander finally defeated. Soldier Boy dies a hero in fierce combat. America breathes a sigh of relief.

Homelander watches the news and reads the taglines as they scroll in front of his eyes. His mouth is agape in bewilderment before Y/N switches the television off again.

“Everyone loves him… and fucking hates you. Like spit-on-your-grave hate,” she summarizes and watches his face darken. She rises from her seat and smiles down at him. “Have a nice life chained to that bed till you rot to death, you dickfaced, inbred, garbage-eating fascist.”

With a wide smirk, she then leans down and whispers into his ear, “Those were my insults, by the way.”

“Well, he’s dead, and I’m fucking alive, which means I won,” Homelander snarls from the bed with a contrivedly triumphant sneer, rattling with his handcuffs. He’s close to an explosion, she can tell.

“Yeah, you’d be telling yourself that if it makes you feel better…”

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N turns her back. As she marches out of the room, Homelander’s furious screams of agony haunt the clinic’s empty hallways, but there is no one here to hear them anymore.

Project Bloom has been disbanded. There’s only a handful of CIA nurses left, tasked to take care of Homelander until his hopefully slow and painful death. If someone decides to hold a pillow over his head at any point, she supposes she wouldn’t be that mad about it either.

Homelander is history. Soldier Boy is dead. And Ben is at rest.

Finally, Y/N can leave this godforsaken place behind her.

Y/N slides into the driver’s seat of her Prius, her head falling back as she exhales a long, exhaustive breath and rubs her temples. That damn brat gave her a fucking migraine with his whiny bitching.

“Finally,” it huffs from the backseat. “Took you long enough. How the fuck did it go?”

Y/N blinks into the rearview mirror and catches a set of expectant green eyes. Her hand drops from her temples as she chuckles.

“Your handwriting is horrible,” she says as a response and pulls out the paper, pointing at a word. “What the hell is that one?”

Ben leans forward between the seats and squints his eyes. “Mmh, pube flosser,” he supplies and frowns. “You didn’t use that one?”

Y/N sighs. “I think he’s got the gist without it.”

“Yeah, but that was a good one,” Ben mumbles and sighs disappointedly. “Did you play him the song?”

“Yes, I did. I played him the song and did everything else you wanted me to do,” she confirms patiently. “You know, you’ve got a weird knack for torture.”

“Thank you. It’s a gift.” Ben blushes and adjusts his baseball cap. “Did you sell it properly? You know, acting is a skill. The most important thing is to–”

“Ben! For the love of God, shut up or I’ll run you over with my car,” Y/N snaps. If he gives her one more acting lesson, she swears she’ll turn herself a widow.

“Fine.” Ben scoffs and rolls his eyes back. “Did he fucking buy it?”

“Yup, he surely thinks you’re dead. Like the rest of the world,” Y/N says and shoots him a smile over her shoulder.

He matches it and scratches his shaved chin, letting himself fall back into the seat. “Good. So, we’re done, right?”

“Yeah, he was the last stop on our list,” she replies quietly, her smile mixing with sadness. “How’s the arm?”

“Good, good…” He nods, his head bobbing thoughtfully as he clutches the scar on his right bicep. “Healing nicely. Finally got a real war wound. Always wanted one.”

“Okay, then… Let’s go, I guess.” With a heavy swallow, Y/N turns the ignition and starts the car.

“You know, I’d really love to kiss you now,” Ben notes, heartache swinging in his voice, and finds her eyes in the rearview mirror.

Y/N bites down on her lip and nods. “Yeah, wouldn’t that be nice…”

Three weeks ago…

A guard gestures down the hallway to the restrooms, but as soon as Y/N rounds the corner and is out of sight, she takes a turn in the opposite direction.

The good thing about a super secret government facility that’s not supposed to exist is that it only comes with the necessary manpower. There’s no abundance of guards at every corner. It’s quiet and desolate.

Moreover, no one expects a silly and weak human to cause any trouble. It surely has its advantages to be constantly underestimated.

Y/N finds the lab she’s passed on their way in, where she spied a glass fridge with vials of different colors. It’s guarded, but only by one person. It’s sloppy, honestly.

A flirty ambush, a stab to the neck with a dull pocket knife, a stolen keycard, and she’s inside. She drags the body in, too, leaving no trace of her crime behind.

Her fingers rummage through differently labeled flasks. There’s plenty of blue and yellow, but not the poisonous green she’s looking for.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…” she mutters to herself as she desperately searches every drawer, every goddamn cabinet of the laboratory.

Out of breath, she stops and grips her temples, shoulders slumping as her mind spins. She wants to curse and scream, but that would draw too much attention. She knows she’s running out of time. No one takes that long to fucking pee. Decisions have to be made quickly.

She grabs a blue vial.

Rolling down her sleeves, she walks nervously back into the control room. Neither Mallory nor Edgar pays her any mind. Everyone’s eyes are glued to Soldier Boy and Homelander. Father and son. It’s biblical.

It’s as if she isn’t even there.

Her veins twitch, her blood boils. It’s tingling in her fingertips.

“Little help would be fucking appreciated!” Ben yells as he wrangles with a defunct Homelander.

Stan Edgar’s smile. So vicious. So cold. So calculating.

She knows the air in the room is about to shift. Her hands ball into fists by her side, gather their energy.

He gives his command. She screams.

“No! That wasn’t the fucking deal!”

Edgar doesn’t even look at her fully. A sideways glance is all she’s worth. “Take her out, too.”

Mallory sees it first, her eyes widening when she realizes what’s going on. It’s too late to warn anyone, however, her cries for help unheard as the acid rots her throat.

Edgar and two guards are next, metal weapons melt and mix with a puddle of human soup on the ground. Then, she goes after the one that got away.

The third guard hurries inside the prison cell, but Y/N slips through the crack of the door before it slams shut. The first gunshot goes clean through Homelander’s spine, but the second is deterred and only strikes Ben’s arm as the guard bubbles to a pond, a hot spring in the concrete.

Ben clutches his bleeding wound with a hiss before his green eyes lock with hers. They widen, and it takes him a moment to make sense of it all.

“Y/N, what–”

He takes a step forward. She takes a step back.

“Don’t come near me,” she orders him with panic blinking in her eyes like a flashing alarm. Her chest rises and falls with every anxious breath.

He holds his palms up high, surrendering. “It’s okay.”

Ben carefully walks around her and steps over the bubbling human puddle on the floor. He peeks outside the door, purses his lips, and nods in impressed satisfaction.

“Those little blobs outside–”

Y/N bobs her head at his unfinished question. “Mallory and Edgar plus two guards,” she replies.

“Nice job.” He whistles lowly and shoots her a devilish grin, taking a step closer. “Gotta say, I’ve never been more turned on by you. I’m getting fucking hard.”

“Ben!” Y/N scolds and backs away from him until she’s pressed against the wall. “I told you, don’t touch me,” she warns him again.

Ben’s smile fades as he recognizes her fear. His features soften, the jokes disappear. “Hey, it’s alright. Twenty-four hours and you’ll be fine again. Just gotta get through it.”

Y/N shakes her head, tears welling in her eyes. Ben’s brow knits in confusion, his face stern.

“What-… Why are you shaking your head?”

A tear escapes and streaks her cheek. “It won’t go away in twenty-four hours,” she chokes out. “They were out of Temp V.”

Ben’s face drops at the realization. “No, no, no… Tell me you didn’t fucking do this!” he yells.

“They were going to kill you! What was I supposed to do?” Y/N explains tearfully.

“Die, Y/N! You were supposed to let me fucking die!” Ben’s jaw tightens as anger surges through his body.

“I didn’t let you die the first time! What made you think I would let you fucking die right now, huh?” Y/N cries through gritted teeth, her hands balling into fists. “Stop trying to kill yourself. You fucking promised me!”

Licking his lips, Ben swallows. He’s quiet, running a palm over his face while his mind races a mile a minute. “Okay… alright,” he says finally, his voice significantly calmer now. “Where did you get the Compound V from?”

“There’s a lab here,” she replies in the same calm manner.

“They got more?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Ben nods and finds her eyes. “Show me.”

Y/N presses her lips into a thin line, shaking her head once more. “No.”

His anger returns, nostrils flaring as his brow creases. “What d’you mean no?”

She swallows thickly. “Look, if you really wanna do this, then I won’t stop you,” she says, a pleading glimmer haunting her eyes. “But you finally got a chance. You can live the normal, boring life. You can go on road trips, see Mount Rushmore… I know you want to.”

Ben swipes his tongue over his teeth and averts his gaze. He pinches the bridge of his freckled nose, and Y/N can see that she’s right.

“I’m not even sure if I want powers,” she continues after a pause. “But at least this time it was my choice. And I don’t regret it if it means I got to save you, okay?”

When Ben finally looks at her, it breaks her heart. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

Y/N gives him a sad smile. “I know… And you won’t be. I promise.”

Their attention is then temporarily drawn to a groan on the ground. Y/N’s brow furrows as she looks at Homelander’s body and notices his fingers twitching.

“Is he still alive?”

“Looks like it,” Ben replies. But as Y/N gets ready to take care of the problem, he stops her, holding out his flat palm. “Wait, wait, wait… Judging by the wound, he’s gonna be a fucking vegetable. It’s a waste of a kill.” He then grins mischievously at her. “I’ve got a better fucking idea. The other question is: how the fuck do we get outta this place… alive?”

Y/N’s mouth opens, but she doesn’t have an answer aside from a helpless shrug for him. This is as far as she has planned. Actually, she hasn’t planned any of this at all.

“I might be able to help with that,” a woman’s voice sounds behind her.

Y/N’s eyes widen as she recognizes the newcomer, her mouth parting anew in both surprise and shock. Ben, on the other hand, furrows his brow and glares at the stranger as if she had just spoken Russian.

“Who the fuck are you?” Ben prompts and then leans closer to Y/N, whispering in her ear, “Kill her.”

Y/N frowns, but her eyes are glued to the young woman in front of her, the familiarity sinking in. “I can’t,” she grits through her teeth.

“Why the fuck not?” Ben asks now loud enough for everyone to hear, including their guest.

“Because I’m the president,” the woman replies, smiling complacently. “And an old friend.”

Ben’s brow creases even more. “President of what? Cunt-town?”

“The United States, Ben,” Y/N tells him flatly. If she could kick his leg right now, she would. Leave it to her husband to get them both killed.

“Wait, a skirt is president?” Ben arches an eyebrow and mutters, “No wonder this country’s going to shit…”

“Charming,” Victoria Neuman says with a small sigh, but seemingly unbothered by the old-school views. Much like Y/N, she ignores the comment and doesn’t take offense to it. “I can see why you married him,” she adds wryly, looking at Y/N.

“Technically, she wasn’t elected. She was Vice President till President Singer died… accidentally,” Y/N explains, knowing Ben only reads the paper for the sports section and the comic strip. She swallows the thick lump in her throat, her heart thrashing wildly in her chest.

“Ah, I know what that’s code for.” Ben smirks coolly. “Bold move. I can fucking respect that.”

“Yeah, God knows some old fuck’s approval is what I’m looking for,” Neuman taunts, the sarcasm dripping from her red-painted lips.

Ben’s face drops as a bit of anger bubbles up inside of him. That bitch is lucky he’s V-free. He forces a tight-lipped smile. “I’m just saying I would’ve done the same thing, okay?”

“No offense, but you’re too much of a moron for that,” Neuman replies dryly.

Ben’s nostrils flare as he grits, “Offense fucking taken.”

“Okay!” Y/N tries to cut the tension with a nervous chuckle, pushing herself between Neuman and Ben. “How about you just tell us what we have to do to get out of this one?”

“See? She’s smart,” Neuman says and smirks at Ben. “I’ve always liked you, Y/N. You know, when Stan and Grace told me their plan of getting you two involved, I warned them. But they just wouldn’t listen. Everyone always underestimates the orphan. I should know, and so do you. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

“Yeah, guess we’re MVP, after all, Nadia,” Y/N says and makes it a point to emphasize her real name.

Victoria just smiles in response. “So, since you took care of two problems for me, one in here and one out there, I have a proposal for you.”

“What is it?” Y/N knows she’s really out of choices. Either she agrees, or Ben and her will spend the afterlife together.

“I need a new Chief of Staff. I want you to do it. You’re smart, driven, and I know you wanna change shit around here. You wanna make a difference? This is your chance,” Neuman proposes. “You can’t take the cure again. It’s going to kill you. Trust me, we’ve done studies, and the results are not pretty.”

Y/N thinks for a few breaths. “What about Ben?”

“I guess he can live. It’s not like he’s a threat to anyone,” Neuman says and almost sounds bored. “Hell, for all I care, we can even make Soldier Boy a reformed hero for dealing with Homelander. He dies heroically in battle and quietly lives out his retirement in fucking Florida or some shit. We get him a big fucking statue. It’s good publicity.”

Y/N shares a look with Ben. “What d’you think?”

Thoughtfully, Ben clicks his tongue. He supposes it’s the best deal they can get, and declining it would probably get them nowhere, although he hates everything about it.

Swallowing, the former supe nods. “Alright, let’s fucking do this,” he agrees and states his conditions, “But for the record, I’m not moving to shit-ass Florida. I want a nice lake house in Minnesota.”

Victoria rolls her eyes. “Fine, whatever. Minnesota it is.”

“You okay? You ready?” Y/N checks as Ben has made it up the stone steps and halts in front of the big, red door.

“I don’t know. You really think this is a good idea? I’m not sure I can do this,” Ben says and insecurely eyes the entrance.

“You’ll do great, alright?” Y/N smiles encouragingly. “I believe in you.”

“I don’t wanna do this alone. What if I fuck up?” Ben asks.

Amused, Y/N chuckles. “Oh, you’re for sure gonna fuck up.”

The green-eyed man scowls. “That’s fucking reassuring. Thanks.”

“Look, this way you won’t be alone. I’ll wire you money every month and check in as much as I can, alright? You can always call me. This isn’t the end,” Y/N soothes his worries. “Maybe one day there’s a cure that’ll work, and we can be together again for real.”

She forces a weak smile to her lips, although she doesn’t believe her own words. But as long as Ben believes them, it’s enough.

“Okay.” Ben nods and takes a deep breath – in through his nose and out through his mouth. “I think I’m ready now.”

“Good.” Y/N sends him a smile. “You thought of a new name yet?”

“I’m still marinating on it,” Ben grumbles.

“Well, marinate faster. I have to introduce you.”

As they enter the orphanage, Y/N checks them in at the reception and fills out all necessary forms. Ben taps his foot nervously and scratches the back of his neck as they wait before one of Y/N’s former colleagues walks in with a little boy in hand, who’s no older than five.

Ben tries to smile but isn’t sure if it looks creepy, so he stops and opts for a more neutral expression. Y/N, however, immediately kneels down to the young boy and smiles brightly at him. It causes Ben’s heart to ache. She deserved to have all of this, but instead, she gave it all up for him.

“Hey, Benny,” she greets the boy. “You ready to meet your new adoptive parent?”

The boy scrunches his brow in careful suspicion as he eyes his future father-to-be. “I guess so,” he says. “Is that him? He looks like he drives a fucking minivan and offers candy to kids. Are you sure he’s not a pedo, Ms. Y/N?”

Ben purses his lips, biting the insides of his cheeks. The initial smile was definitely a mistake. They’re not off to a good start.

Y/N presses her lips together to muffle her snort. “Yes, Benny, I’m sure,” she replies patiently. “He’s cool, trust me.”

“Fine, whatever.” The kid rolls his eyes. “As long as he’s not fucking vegan like Ms. Teresa. They’re the worst.”

“Ugh, agreed! Do I look like a fucking plant-shitter to you?” Ben asks the boy rhetorically.

“No, you look like a fucking pedo to me,” the boy retorts.

Ben grins broadly at Y/N. “I like the kid. I think I get what you mean now. I see the resemblance.”

“Well, great. Glad you two are hitting it off… I think,” Y/N says with a crinkled brow, although a part of her is doubting her idea. Honestly, it’s wild she’s trusting him with a child. A year ago she would’ve thought that it was insane. “Alright, uh, Benny, this is, uhm–”

“Sam,” Ben proudly introduces himself with his fake name and shakes the kid’s hand. He then notices Y/N’s strange look. “What?”

“Nothing, just… you don’t really strike me as a Sam. That’s all,” she tells him in a whisper-tone, shrugging.

“Oh, really? Well, I don’t give a fuck. I love it,” Ben quips, grinning rather smugly.

“Fine.” Y/N sighs. She turns back to little Ben with a smile. “You guys ready to hit the road?”

“Where are we going?” Benny asks curiously and promptly takes Ben’s hand, dragging the older man through the doors. He’s been waiting to get out of the orphanage for a while, the excitement of finally being able to leave visible in every step he takes.

It’s a fresh start for both of them.

“Uh, Mount Rushmore,” Ben answers.

“Cool! Can we get burgers on the way there? I’m starving.”

“Sure can, kid.”

Y/N can see Ben’s initial hesitance until he eventually accepts it and eases into the situation, holding the boy’s hand tightly. He helps the kid into the car, even puts the seatbelt on, and shuts the door behind him.

Her heart twinges as she watches the two, wishing she could go with them if things were different. However, she knows the risk is too big. She would never forgive herself if she hurt either of them. She doesn’t trust herself enough yet. Maybe someday she can.

“You okay?” Ben asks as he sees the unshed tears brimming in her eyes. He’d dreaded this day for the past few weeks, hoping she’d still change her mind. He hates that this is goodbye, but he supposes he has to set her free now.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Y/N says with a forced smile, but a tear escapes and rolls down her cheek.

“C’mere.”

Y/N protests as Ben slings his arms around her and pulls her flush against him, holding her tightly. He hasn’t touched her since that night, but he doesn’t care anymore. He presses his lips against hers and tastes her one last time.

Breathlessly, Y/N withdraws and sniffles. “Are you fucking insane? I could kill you.”

Ben simply smiles at her. “Hey, if I die kissing you, then that’s a fucking great way to go out. ‘Sides, insanity is contagious,” he quips and sends her a wink. “Thank you… for everything, you know?”

“You’re welcome,” she says quietly and swallows harshly as the tears fall freely now. Not every film has a happy ending. “I guess I’ve done my job as your sponsor. You’ve been successfully rehabilitated.”

Ben snorts. “If by that you mean I’m fucking boring and responsible now then yeah, you’ve done your job.”

“You won’t be bored for long. The kid’s already trying to hotwire the car,” Y/N tells him, laughing.

“Wha–” Ben spins around and points a warning finger at the boy. “Ay! Hands in your fucking lap!”

The kid raises his palms in surrender and yells, “Hurry the fuck up!”

With a shaking head, Ben turns back to her. “Gotta watch that kid like an eagle,” he mutters. He exhales a dreaded breath and licks his lips. “So, I guess this is goodbye, huh?”

Y/N smiles softly, the corners of her mouth reaching her dimples. “Maybe.”

Little Ben gets me every time 😂 Alright, now you may yell and complain, but I love this bittersweet ending 🥲 (But of course, you're welcome to send in requests. Whether it's deleted scenes, bonus shots of a potential future, or some fun Big Ben/Little Ben drabbles)

Thank you so much for reading, for your gifs and comments! It's so appreciated! Without them, this would only be half the fun 🤍

I'll announce future plans soon. The final five of Plastic Hearts will probably be next up. Get ready 'cause it's another wild one! 🌟

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[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 80 (Conrad and His Father)

cw: coarse language, tense family dynamic, follows the events of this post

Life after Helena Gordon's death was difficult for the men she left behind. Years later, Conrad and his father still struggled with her loss. The apartment furnishings were unchanged, and no photos to remember her hung on the walls.

Another call from his son's high school guidance counselor left Stephen Gordon at a loss. He feared their connection was slipping away.

"Another fist fight? What was it this time?"

"It was nothing. They were just assholes."

"If you keep this up, you might not graduate."

"Who cares what I do? We all just die anyway."

"Son, I know you're better than this. You want more than this; I know you do. You know your mother would want more for you, too."

"Oh, now you want to talk about her? You only bring her up when you want to tell me what a loser I am!"

"I never said anything like..." He stopped himself. All Conrad ever wanted to do was argue, and Stephen was running out of patience. "What is it that you need, son? You won't talk to any counselors, you won't talk to me..."

"I don't want to talk about your bullshit opinions, Dad!"

"Well, what do you want to talk about? How are your college applications coming along?"

Conrad grunted. "Fine."

"What major are you-"

"I don't know! Fuck! Are you that excited to get me out of this place?"

"You have to get this anger under control, son. I don't know how you're going to do it, but think about the kind of father you'll want to be someday. You can't scream at-"

"I'm never having kids. Ever."

Stephen threw up his hands in exasperation. "Fine. Don't have kids! Don't finish high school without getting yourself expelled, and don't amount to a goddamned thing! Maybe you need to channel this anger into working out or something."

"We can't afford a gym membership," Conrad scoffed. "The Landgraabs pay you shit money and you're still working off all Mom's medical bills."

"You're smart and you're resourceful. Figure it out! But you're not moping around here, and the next time you get in a fight at school, I'll pull you out and force you to work Landgraab security with me for the rest of your miserable existence."

In a huff, Conrad locked himself in his room. Despite his nihilistic outburst, he pulled out his math homework and focused on the equations to calm his mind.

His mother would never approve of his grades slipping, especially now that he was less than a year from his high school graduation. She'd left them, but her ambitious spirit still flickered quietly in her grief-stricken son. He was only doing these stupid equations for her. "I hope you're happy," he muttered under his breath.

He hated how close she felt - like she was always just a phone call away - even though she was gone. It was so unfair.

After an hour, his father knocked on the door. With a roll of his eyes, Conrad stood to let him in. Right away, Stephen sat on the bed. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," he said. "I've just tried so hard to reach you and I'm at my wit's end."

"It's fine. I thought I might head down to the gym tomorrow and see if they're hiring. I'm pretty sure employees get free memberships."

Stephen Gordon grinned proudly. "I said you were resourceful, son. I think that's a great idea."

So Conrad got a part-time job at the local gym, scrubbing the toilets and changing rooms in exchange for free use of the machines. His embrace of physical activity helped get him through his senior year.

His grades got him into Foxbury Institute for Computer Science, and he even started looking to his future with a renewed sense of excitement.

On his graduation day, the smiles he shared with his father were genuine, even if both could feel Helena's absence as strong as ever.

"She's so proud of you, son. I know she is."

He nodded, careful not to get wrapped up in referring to his mother in the present tense. "She would be."

Off on his own in Britechester, Conrad took his new independence seriously. He and his father had nowhere near enough money for him to blow off his education and waste the tuition.

He spent long hours studying in the old library, and it wasn't long before he found a local gym to help manage his emotions.

Pappy Murphy had been a boxer, and Conrad was drawn to the punching bags. Treadmills and weight machines couldn't match the pummeling he could give his own emotional baggage with a set of gloves and a bag.

The gym soon became his home away from home, and he spent time there as often as he could... ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

WCIF Boxing Gym? Pappy Murphy's Boxing Gym by SimDoughnut in the Sims 4 Gallery. I didn't realize until after I placed the lot in game, but it comes with a secret underground Fight Club-esque fight room and creepy scientific lair, too (with a weather machine in it!) and this place is screaming for some storyline but (for now!) it's only in my flashback save.

Fun discovery, because I was literally just looking for a gym in the gallery with boxing equipment so I could try to isolate whatever mod script was preventing me from placing punching bags in any gym after the last patch (it was Mercuryfoam's Martial Arts mod, and that's a bummer because I want this skill back from Sims 3 very much and I believe the mod is no longer being updated!)

[candyskiez]

usually I hate possession plots but god,I love the possessed hunter plot. because it's just so painfully resonant as an abuse victim. especially to anyone who's been abused by bigots.

like. this outside force you once loved, you spent so much of your time trying to please, so much of your time begging for the approval of, isolates you. they cause you to grow paranoid and angry, snapping at people and pushing you away from your support system. makes you seem crazy to your loved ones, making them doubt your mental health and making you question your sense of reality because you can't tell what's real or not anymore (gaslighting, baby!) you're cut off and overwhelmed. you get put in situations where you're forced to do things you don't want to, you're in so much pain, you're being treated like something with no wants or thoughts of their own. you're stripped of your autonomy. you're belittled for what you wanted and told THIS is how you're supposed to be, and you're so miserable. you're pitted against your loved ones. your abuser tries to make all your loved ones hate you so you come back to them, so they don't lose you. and belos being a horrifically realistic portrayal of an IRL abuser makes this so much worse. he craves Caleb's attention and tries to force hunter to fill that void. nevermind HES the one who robbed himself of caleb in his life by killing him. he tries to make hunter his shoulder to cry on, his therapist, his punching bag, his doctor. uses him to look at himself and go "see! look how good I'm doing! my family is back and he finally loves me again!" , he is obsessive and horrible and cruel and so horrifically realistic. he strips hunter of his autonomy, and in the shit that will start sounding familiar to people who grew up in bigoted families:

forced him out of what made him most comfortable. literally grew out his hair against his will, treated how he'd changed his body and wardrobe to make himself more comfortable as something that tainted him.

also just. holy shit the violating him like that. just the fucking undertones. it's fucking horrific.

and that's why him fighting back is so huge. because he has the strength to say, no. fuck you, no. this is my goddamn body. this is my goddamn life. he takes all these things he LOVED. he loved, that belos had taught him he was sinful and a horrible person for not despising (hm, allegories) and says, fuck you, I WANT this. I want this, I love this, you tried to teach me to hate it but I don't. I love it. I love it, and you didn't break me. I want to leave the coven, I want to leave you. you hurt me, and I said sorry. you used me, and I said sorry. I am done being sorry. I am done feeling bad. I want this life you're trying to take from me. I want to go to the boiling isles and I want to have a life there, in that world you hate so much. I want to go to the boiling isles and be sinful and disgusting and everything you hate and I will love it. I will be happy. I will be free and everything you hate. and I miss when I thought I could please you, because it was simple. but I am happier as a heretic and as a sinner, and you can't change me. I tried to change myself for you, I just ended up miserable. you can't make me something I'm not. I tried. and I am done trying. I am hunter. fuck you, my name is hunter. my name is hunter, and you hurt people. it doesn't matter if you were trying to help me. you hurt me. and I am done, and I am leaving, and most of all I will never let you hurt anyone else like you hurt me.

and he fucking got it, man. he fucking got it. he went through HELL and he still came back swinging. the death feels symbolic to me almost? losing a part of you in traumatic events and you have to live without that part. and you got out but you lost pieces of you in the process, and that stays with you.

but he keeps going. he kept fucking going man and THAT is fucking amazing to me. he kept going. ohhh my god. I wish I had this when I was 13. hunter isn't as massive of a hyperfixation for me anymore by a long shot, but goddamn. I love this dude. I LOVED the possession scene so fucking much and it will always resonate with me so, so hard.

[baratiddyappreciator]

Dating Jack HCs

I've gotta do some more writing for my fav because I love him so much and he deserves more, just in general. NSFW included, because I would do THINGS to this man and I know some people would too, so Minors DNI.

Big appetite, but he's not picky. He'll eat pretty much anything you give him with little to no hesitation. Trying to do some baking and you're not sure if you added too much sugar? Just give him a spoonful of the batter and he'll tell you, flat out. He is partial to foods that he grew up familiar with, since it's what he knows best, so making him a good hearty meal. Steak and vegetables are a popular choice for him, but a nice chicken pot pie with bread is something that will have him melting.

He's not entirely helpless in the kitchen himself, but he's not really good at doing much. He can cook something the way he likes, and he can make basic things, but more advanced meals usually wind up either a bit burnt or a little undercooked. He's got an odd affinity for pancakes and waffles though. Get him to make you some and they're the softest, fluffiest pancakes and waffles you've ever tasted.

He's not really a movie or book guy, if he's bored, he'll go work out or exercise, but he does push things too far sometimes and give in to letting himself relax for a bit to let his body recover before he starts pushing himself again. This is your chance to make him enjoy your favourite pieces of media with you. You matter a lot to him, so he'll pay attention, actively participating by asking questions. He'll look at you with all the love in the world in his eyes, when you're talking about it.

On the other hand, if you take an interest in his past, in Goudou, he'll fall for you and fall for you HARD. You want him to teach you how to do something he cares about? He's putty in your hands for the entire duration. He doesn't expect you to push yourself as hard as he pushes himself, but he will push you to do your best. It stops when you say that you're done, or until he thinks you're not able to keep going.

He's not really one for physical intimacy, but with you, that starts to change. He likes holding your hand while the two of you are walking. He likes putting his hands on your shoulders while you're just standing around doing something, be it waiting in line or just standing around. After the first year of being together, he'll do whatever you want him to. Need him to pick you up so you can look at something on a top shelf? Absolutely, no hesitation, you let him know if you want to come down because he'll just assume you want to be up there for the rest of the time you're there.

He's rough and clumsy about affection at first simply because he's not sure of what you're wanting. His jaw is stiff when you kiss him, his hugs are a bit too firm or too loose, he doesn't really hold your hand, more like cupping it. Until he gets more comfortable, his affection remains lukewarm. You know the second that it just clicks for him, because all of a sudden he's just there, his hugs are tight and warm, he hold your hands properly. He's just so warm with his affection.

Please remember that this man is both blonde and pasty, because he won't put on sunscreen unless you ask, and he WILL get burnt. Will he complain about it? No, but you'll know he's miserable because he'll be moving very carefully, like everything hurts (because it does). Get some aloe and make this man sit down, he'll fall asleep before you get even half way done.

Holding his hands is a fantastic thing. His entire hand engulfs yours, you can feel all the little scars and calluses on his palms and fingers, and if you really pay attention you can feel his pulse. Laying on his chest is something else entirely, because all you can hear is his breathing and his pulse.

NSFW upcoming, if you're a minor then get lost??? We don't want you here?? Annoying ass kid, goddamn.

I love my man, my sweet little blorbo, I'm going to chew on him in a sexy way.

You can't really tie him up, because sometimes he'll get a bit too excited, either the restraints or the furniture you've tied him to will break, but he encourages you to try. If you're not one to take the risk on that, then just tell him to grab the headboard. He'll grab it and he won't let go until you're done.

RIDE! 👏HIM! 👏 RIDE HIM! He teases you when he's on top, but when you're riding him, he just goes dumb, it's like his brain leaks out of his ears, he'll lay there and watch you like you're an actual diety as you use him for your pleasure, and he encourages you to do so, because then he's assured that whatever is done is something that you want.

He doesn't really have any specific fetishes beyond biting and a strong breeding kink, so he's happy to try out whatever you like. The only think he is staunchly against is a daddy kink. Don't call him daddy, that will immediately kill the mood. The only other thing he has a problem with is him being the bottom. He's big, and him letting himself being that vulnerable takes a lot of trust.

Biting him while having sex just drives him fucking WILD, even if it's just a nibble. The second your teeth touch his skin it's game on, he'll have you pinned to the mattress faster than you can blink, though you're not really going to be processing much more than that until he finishes with you.

He makes it painfully obvious when he's thinking about getting you in bed, he'll stare right through your soul (before he fucks it out of you) and hover around you. The best way to get him to say fuck it and fuck you is to wear one of his sweaters... And not much else. Laying on the couch reading a book? Not anymore, he's got your legs over his shoulders, and you're seeing white.

Everything about this man is big. Big hands, big arms, big tits, and a big dick. He's got a girthy thirteen incher, and it is veiny, curves upwards at just the right angle to make you go insane. He knows he's big, and he's not the kind of guy to force something to fit, so he won't even try to push his cock into you until he knows you're ready.

This man is incredibly pliant to what you want to do. Something you can do is just walk up to him while he's laying down, push his head back and ride his face. He won't complain, he'll just get to work on you. Fuck his throat or his tongue, he won't care, he'll be in bliss. That mouth may be intimidating, but it works wonders.

He's got such big, thick fingers, they're perfect to ride. Just reach over and grab his hand, he'll let you use them, anything for his love. If you need him, you can have him, subtle or not. Grind on his thigh to take the edge off, or drag him off to a bathroom to have him take the edge off.

He's got that really big scar right across his front, and it cuts really close to one of his nipples. You'll find that one is a lot more sensitive than the other, and trust me, they are sensitive. There's not much you can do to phase him, but playing with his chest is one way to get him riled up.

[arcane-vagabond]

Hey.

Go ahead and get settled because this will be...long, in true Liz fashion.

So, by now I'm sure most of you have heard what's happened. If not, you can search this blog for some answers or others for more.

I joined this fandom offiicially at the end of September after being a long time lurker. I had just lost my job and times were uncertain for me. I felt inspired to write, and as someone whose formative years were shaped by the fandom experience, I wanted to feel that sense of belonging again - to feel like a part of a community. I've talked about it on here before, but I started my fandom days in the original Hunger Games fandom when the first movie had just come out, and then I shifted gears towards the SuperWhoLock fandom. If you know anything about SuperWhoLock, then you know you had to have pretty tough fucking skin to be a part of any of it.

Of course, this was back in the day when fandom was an actual community and not authors having to beg for scraps of engagement and people thinking its a numbers game. I was a fairly large blog within the SuperWhoLock community (Waywardly-Carrying-On was the username), but I left fandom for a few years because life got hectic and I felt like I had outgrown the fandom itself as I was no longer watching any of the shows. As the years went on, I started to yearn for the fandom experience again, which is how I found myself dipping toes into several different ones.

I was so excited to publish my first fanfic. I had convinced myself that I wasn't a good writer (much to the chagrin of my irl friends), and I had put a pause on writing my original story. I wanted to write this idea about a cowboy and a girl using characters that I had grown to love like I did way back in my older days. So, I started posting, and I was so excited for the story, that I kept posting almost daily. MamaMay was one of the first people to embrace not only my story, but me as a person into the fandom. She made me feel welcomed and wanted.

Pretty much right off the bat I was already getting anons telling me that I was being too much and that I needed to calm down with all the posting. I was confused because...this is Tumblr. It's literally a blogging website? Why wouldn't I post? I decided to ignore the mean words (not before giving my opinion, of course) and kept on doing my thing. Well, the anons got continually worse and worse. I had a suspiscion as to who the anons could be, but I never had concrete proof. So, I experimented with blocking suspects until finally it worked. I'm not naming names because that's not my style, so don't even bother asking.

The fact of the matter is, some of you have entered fandom spaces for the first time, and you don't know how to act. You don't care to learn fandom etiquette as you've made abundantly clear by calling fandom olds every name under the sun while utilizing the anonymous feature. Newsflash, you're part of the problem. You're the reason why authors don't want to publish anymore. You are the reason that something that's supposed to be fun is starting to feel like a goddamn chore.

How many times can authors on here say that we aren't machines? We have lives outside of this website: family, friends, jobs, school, etc. Some of you really are just hellbent on making everyone around you miserable, and it's sad. You can't just leave well enough alone and let people enjoy something, no you feel like everyone has to enjoy it the same way as you.

Some of you go after authors on here because of some weird sense of jealousy too. I don't know why my shit blew up, babe, I really don't. But I started out with no followers and no support just like everyone else. I'll tell you what helped me though: following fandom etiquette and reaching out to other creators to build an actual community. None of this "I've reblogged three of your things and now I'm messaging you so that you return the favor." No, I reached out to make actual friendships which is what fandom is SUPPOSED to be. If someone was clearly not interested, it was fine!! I backed off and kept doing my own thing.

Some of you think being mean on the internet makes you big and bad. Guess what! It doesn't! It's loser mentality and I feel genuinely sorry for you. I'm sorry that people in your own life made you feel so small as to feel like you had to lash out at strangers on the internet who are just trying to have fun.

Anyway, this is my really long way of saying that I am taking a break for a little bit. I have no idea how long it will be - could be the weekend, could be a couple of weeks, could be forever. I need time to decide if this is something I want to keep persuing. If I come back, I don't know if I will remain a TGM blog or if I'll shift gears and hop into another fandom with a rebrand. Guess we'll just have to see.

To the people on here who have been a constant source of joy, laughter, and support: thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Your presence has meant everything to me, and I hope that my break sees me wanting to come back and giggle about the silly plane movie with you all again.

Nothing but love,

Liz 💛

[gyuranhae]

Black Suit | (seungcheol smut)

Pairing: MafiaBoss!Seungcheol X BossWife!Reader Synopsis: You just couldn't help if you husband looked so good on an all black suit. Genre: smut Word Count: 5.3K Warning: unprotected sex. clothed sex. public sex. vouyerism. creampie. breeding kink. daddy kink. petnames (good girl, pretty girl, baby, darling) name calling (whore, slut) manhandling. marking. biting. choking. face slapping. possessiveness. size kink. big dick cheol. seungcheol is very jealous. jeonghan is a little shit on purpose. Tag: - A/N: seungcheol on a black turtleneck has me on a chokehold I swear

He looked so good in all black suits. Not even he could deny how good he looked. The way the turtleneck blouse wrapped around his muscles, puffing out his chest and carefully carved his biceps muscles and forearms. The long coat that fell just in the right way and elongated his build figure, giving him an air of superiority. The high waisted pants, buckled with a leather belt that hugged his waist, the fabric of the pants being a little too tight for his strong thighs. You could not help but press your thighs together as you fawned over Seungcheol getting ready, his strong eyes scanning over his figure through the mirror. You were sitting on bed, all prepped and pretty, ready to leave for the important meeting you two had. But gosh the way your husband looked so delectable in that goddamn suit made you curse under your breath as you slowly lost your mind over having to leave and not being able to just have him right there and now. 

Seungcheol was too caught up on his own figure to notice you fiddling around in the edge of the bed, legs firmly held close as you tried to get some sort of relief through the thin lace fabric of your panties, eyes closing shut and mouth breathing a quiet moan when you felt the texture just barely rub onto your already swollen bud. You wished you had the guts to just tell him to fuck you right there but the words got caught up on your throat as you eyed him again, the way his face was so serious, fingers quickly closing the coat's buttons and wrists. 

"Okay, I'm ready. Let's go" You snapped back to reality as you heard his voice, quickly jumping to your feet as you felt your underwear stick into your folds as you got up and adjusted the dress. Seungcheol quickly grabbed his wallet and keys, calling you over with his hand, which you were quick to hold onto as you knew he could not stand the idea of walking around without having his hand on you in some sort of way. Possessive? Seungcheol? You never heard of it. 

The way to the meeting was the worst part. Trying to get your head out of the image of him with the suit, your mind doing its best to just focus on his voice and talking, but every time you turned to look back at him, you were met with the sight made in heaven of him wearing the black suit. Your thighs were mushed together due to how hard you were pressing them against each other, trying so badly to get relief yet failing miserably. It only got worse when he placed his hand on one of them, giving a tight squeeze and rubbing his palm of your bare and warm skin, wanting to feel your flesh under his touch. The way he was completely possessive of you, needing to have the feel of your body onto his grip in some sort of way always made you melt into a puddle. It was so hot seeing how jealous he got whenever another man tried to get funny with you, how he was quick to wrap a arm around your waist and hold it in bruising strength. Seeing his jaw clench when hearing the dude's stupid words, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as he saw the man fumbling around while trying to talk. He was so intimidating and you could not help but lean into that from day one. 

When you met him for the first time at an event organized by your parents, you felt your legs almost turn into jello. The way he stared at you, curious to know who was the child of his parents biggest allies, a child he, somehow, had never met before. The way he was so polite, bowing to you as you got introduced and gently taking your hand, placing a kiss on the top of the back. The way he was quick to catch on your favorite conversation topics, making talking with him an easy and pleasant experience. From day one, you were on the palm of his hand, just like he was at your feet the moment his eyes landed on your figure. Your marriage was no surprise to the big names of the underworld, and your relationship was almost a goal for every single younger couple that saw you two together. You felt the car stop, looking right at the window and seeing the big ballroom that awaited you two. As you took your seatbelt off, Seungcheol opened the door for you, quickly giving you his coat as he saw you lightly shiver over the cold wind of the night. You could see his muscles perfectly with the thin shirt, wanting nothing more than just palm and squeeze them as his hands traveled around your body as well. 

"I promise this is going to be quick, okay my love?" He adjusted the coat on you, making sure it covered a part of your figure so you could get warmer "I sorta promised Jihoon and Soonyoung I would be here, but we don't need to stay much" He gave you a tiny smile.

"It's okay, I don't mind" You did mind, in fact you were dying to come back and plead in your knees for him to bang you all night "Lets get inside, maybe they have a few nice drinks" 

"My lady?" He offered you his arms, and you laughed as you linked with it. 

"Always such a gentlemen" 

"Only for you" Seungcheol winked at you, you two laughing lightly as you walked inside of the big building. It was just like any other ballroom: over the top and extremely rich looking. The chandelier was the prettiest part in your opinion, shining in an abnormal way, almost as if it was made with actual diamonds. Cheol was quick to navigate with you through the crowd of people, soon finding two men drinking together at a more reserved table, capturing their attention by just walking closer. 

"There you were, thought you two would never appear" The man with platinum blonde hair laughed, quickly giving both of you tight hugs as the other one just gave a polite head motion as a welcoming sign, calling over one of the servers for more drinks. You couldn't even be mad as you had known Soonyoung and Jihoon as long as you had known your husband. Jihoon was the son of a major politician and now head leader of an important information chain that covered the whole underworld throughout the country, gathering important and personal data about almost every single mafia family that existed. Soonyoung was the youngest of a family of five kids, child of one of the richest men of the crime scene, and yet he was the one selected to be the new leader of the family as he had proved himself to be a prodigy in the fine art of commiting crimes. Both of their families had alliances with yours, not as strong as Seungcheol's family, but just as important, and you were aware that the event you four were in right now was a big one for all three of their families. That's why you were cursing yourself for being horny at just an important situation. But god, couldn't Seungcheol just choose another day to be this attractive? 

You quickly grabbed one of the martinis the server brought, gulping on it quite hard to try and get your head out of the foggy needy state it was right now. 

"Do you by any means know when Jeonghan's arriving?" Jihoon asked Seungcheol, and you noticed how the grip on his glass of whiskey got tighter. His jaw clenched mid gulp, Adam's Apple bulging as he tensed at the mention of Jeonghan's name. They were not enemies, no, they were acquaintances. Mostly because of you. You were Jeonghan's childhood best friend, and the one he stuck to like glue. Neither of you liked each other, no. Jeonghan was already married by the time you met Cheol, and he was very happy with his partner. But he loved to tease Seungcheol for the shits and giggles. Hugging your arm, holding your waist, draining your attention to him, he loved seeing Seungcheol get worked up and annoyed by his closeness with you. And you couldn't even protest because every time Jeonghan appeared, Seungcheol took you to heaven and beyond by the time you were home. It was almost as if Jeonghan was aware of your manhandling kink and made that on purpose. 

"No, I'm not aware of when he is arriving" Your husband answered shortly, arm creeping around your waist and pulling you closer "I wasn't even aware that he was coming" 

"Yeah, apparently this event is a big one because of his partner's family, y'know?" Soonyoung answered, scrolling around on his phone "They are like the main investors on this scheme they are going to propose and he needs to be here because he's one of the it boys for the campaign's image, something like that. Nothing that us mere mediocre looking fellas would know about" He said, giving you a quick wink right after, causing you to giggle lightly as you knew he didn't think any of them were mediocre looking, nor did you. Your conversation was quickly disrupted by an amalgamation of sound coming from the rest of the party, seeing as some people whispered while someone traveled between the sea of humans. Soon enough, said person appeared in your vision, and it was no one other than Yoon Jeonghan himself. His eyes scanned through the tables, eyes lighting up as he met yours and a smile spreading across his handsome face, feet quickly making their way towards you. 

"Good evening, gentlemen" he slightly bowed, turning his attention towards you with a cheeky smile "Good evening, Y/N. Looking amazing as always" 

"Jeonghan, you always say that" You punched him lightly on the arm, laughing at his complement "I'm going to start showing up on a potato sack to see if you're still gonna say that" 

"Well I'm sure you would still look marvelous even on a potato sack" Jeonghan put his hands on his pants pockets, directing his eyes attention to someone right by your side "Don't you agree, Seungcheol?"

"Yes. Yes I agree" You could see the tension in his neck, vein popping out as he picked his inner cheek with his tongue, gaze fixated with rather hatred on your best friend "My wife looks amazing on anything she wears" The emphases on my wife, as well with the tight and strong grip around your waist made your skin get goosebumps, the pool between your legs getting wetter by the minute. You just wanted to drag Seungcheol to the nearest bathroom and fuck him there. You noticed Jeonghan's grin getting wider, chuckling to himself as he grabbed a drink from the server's tray. He could tell by the way your whole body was almost stiff that something was clouding your mind, and he was almost certain that something was your husband who now, was hugging you from behind, arms firmly wrapping your torso and chin resting against your shoulder as his piercing gaze almost burned a hole through your best friend's skull. Jeonghan gave you a funny look, indicating his mind had created one of his devilish tricks in order to get Seungcheol where you wanted him to be. 

"Do you two need a room or something? This place has some private bedrooms in it, y'know?" Jihoon mentioned with a sarcastic tone, a blush creeping through your cheeks as you felt Cheol sign in discontent against your ear, releasing your waist and adjusting himself to your side. It's not that the three men felt uncomfortable, they were already used to Seungcheol's antics when it comes to you. But the rest of the people at the party, some important investors and family leaders could disapprove of such "inappropriate" behavior, and that could cost your husband's family a huge deal. Soonyoung quickly fumbled around his phone, calling Seungcheol over to see something regarding the announcement that was about to be made during the event. 

That was Jeonghan's cue to quickly link arms with you and drag you out of there, pulling you through the maze of people and approaching a balcony, the glass doors quickly shutting behind you two as the cold air of the night hit you. Luckily, you still wore Seungcheol's coat, feeling the scent of his perfume hit your nose and fill your senses. 

"Finally I got you out of the wolf's grip" Han started, signing in annoyance "I know you find attractive the way he's extremely possessive of you, but dear god if he could he would murder me in a heartbeat" 

"Oh please, he would never" You took the last sip of your drink, placing your elbow against the rail of the balcony as the older gave you a wondering look "Besides, you are always teasing him. It's like you're constantly asking him to hate you" 

"I do it because it is fun. I even do it with my father in law" He shrugged "But seriously, he is just so… Aggressive when it comes to you. I'm needy for my partners attention but he is just next level obsessed" 

"And I'm okay with that" You gave him a cheeky smile, laughing as he rolled his eyes at your statement.

"Of course you're okay with it. You're not the one almost getting its neck cracked" He gulped on the drink, placing the glass lightly on the rail of the balcony "Besides, we all know what happens when he gets jealous and you two go home" The suggestive smirk made you blush even more, eyes averting his teasing gaze as you shook your head negatively "Oh please, don't pretend like he doesn't rail you when he's this jealous and you don't like it" 

"I'm not, I just don't know how to react when people point out" You bit your lip, mind traveling back to the vision of him being tense due to Jeonghan's presence, his muscles getting even more visible through the black turtleneck he wore. Your best friend could see that your head was leading you through something, quickly remembering his plan from earlier. 

"It's the black suit, isn't" He knew you like the back of his hand "Seeing him in a black suit made you horny and you're trying to avert that but failing miserably because he keeps getting all touchy with you" He laughed, making you hit him on the chest as he shook his head "Oh gosh, you're two are worse than horny teenagers that just found out what sex is… I mean, that's kinda how it all started-" You hit him in the chest again, face red from his statements as you tried to hide your embarrassment. It was true, you two could not spend more than a couple of hours without getting into each others pants, getting to the point of arriving on places late because you two were fucking or simply missing family gatherings to dive into each others body throughout the whole evening. 

"Can you please just don't?" You asked, trying to hide your smile but failing. 

"What? Talk about the suit or that you two were horny teenagers?" His smile made you feel even more ashamed. Jeonghan knew how to make you embarrassed without needing much. 

"Both! Please, I'm trying my best to not just pounce on him in the middle of everyone" you sigh "It's not my fault that my incredibly handsome husband looks like an absolute five course meal on that all black suit" 

"I'm not saying it's your fault, I'm saying neither of you know how to control your hormones. I'm surprise I'm not an uncle yet" He took a last sip of his whiskey, chuckling lightly "I'm going to quote Jihoon and remind you that there are bedrooms in this place for some reason and that you two can just solve your problems by going there" 

"I don't think Cheol would like the idea of having sex outside of our house. Beside the walls in this place are thin as ice and anyone would he-" 

"Y/N!" You heard the door swing with a bang, startling both of you as you turned your heads to the familiar voice. Seungcheol's face was red with anger and jealousy, looking over at both of you as you could hear his teeth clenching against each other and his nails digging into the wood frame of the glass doors. You felt your knees start to give in, holding on to the rail so that you wouldn't fall on your face as he approached both of you with stomping feet. Yet Jeonghan didn't seem to be amused by it, appearing rather calm as your husband got on his face, eyes burning with anger. 

"Who do you think you are to just drag my wife across this fucking party and get her away from me?" His satoori accent popped out every time he was furious, making his voice tremble low and making you feel your folds clench against nothing as your core aches.

"We were just sharing a few laughs and talking, like best friends do" Jeonghan's snarky tongue made sure to put emphasis on best friends, assuring that Cheol only got more worked up as his first clenched, wanting nothing more than to just punch the smugness out of your friends face. Seungcheol grabbed your wrist with rather force, you were sure you're getting a bruise. 

"Jihoon is calling us, they are going to announce whatever the hell this event is for" The light on his eyes, whoever, did not lie to you "Let's go" Cheol dragged you along with him, leaving a smirking Jeonghan to sit there on the balcony, proud that he had accomplished yet again his goal of making your husband do what you wanted him to. Seungcheol took you across the place, quickly getting both of you lost on a series of corridors as he searched for something. It was not long before you found yourself in a corridor full of doors, each one labeled with a gold number plate. He impatiently searched around in his pockets, quickly finding a key with a tag that had the same number as the door you were in front. 

"I said it was going to be a quick event, nothing more than just an hour. But no" He angrily stuck the keys on the keyhole, opening the door and dragging you inside "He had to test my patience yet again and just drag you away from me" He closed the door with rather force, your eyes noticing how tense his forearms were "I'm getting fucking tired of his behaviour. He does it to get on my nerves, I know" He tossed the key on a nearby table, turning himself back to you. The look on his eyes, that dark lustful gaze he only gave you when he was going to ruin you. He approached you, your feet walking back until you hit the wall, feeling like a prey under his intense gaze. He caged your frame with his arms, resting them on each sides of your body as he slowly got closer to your flushed face, lips getting dangerously close to yours "Now I'm going to make sure the whole building knows who you belong to" 

It was the last thing you heard before you felt his plush lips crash against yours, mouth captivated in an intense breath-taking kiss. Your hands flew to his neck, feeling the baby hairs and gripping on his shoulder as his arms pulled you up against the wall, legs wrapping around his waist and dress getting bunched up in the process. You could feel your core rubbing against the leather belt that held his high-waisted pants, unintentionally grinding down as a way to get more friction. His hands gripped your ass, riding up your dress even more and making the fabric stop at your waist, his mouth traveling down south through your face, jaw and neck, sucking purple love bites across your skin. Your back kept arching towards his body, hands gripping on anything as your head lost itself to the feeling of his teeth nibbling at your sensitive spots. You tried your best to hold the inevitable moans coming out of your throat, but it was almost impossible as your husband was quick to slide one of his hands between your legs, long fingers rubbing your fold through the lace underwear. 

"You love to see me angry, don't you?" He growled, sending shivers down your spine as you felt your panties getting more soaked "Such a dirty little whore… Getting all wet and needy just from seeing me fight with Jeonghan…" He pushed the fabric to the side, fingertips gently touching your clit as he rubbed you in small teasing circles. You whined, hips halting and trying to search for more stimulation, making him chuckle low "You ask him to do that shit, don't you? To make him tease me and make me mad. You asked him, didn't you?" 

"N-No" It was all you could mutter, teeth gripping on your bottom lip as you felt one of his slender fingers slide inside of you, curling up inside and teasingly moving slow "H-He does it b-because he thinks its f-fun" You were trying so hard to not moan out loud, the fear of getting caught by someone hiking up the adrenaline running through your body. Your eyes were closed but you could hear him smirking. 

"Ah, sure. He does it because it's fun…" He added another finger, using his thumb to press against your sensitive bud and rub it very slowly, making you lose your mind "Well, I'm doing this because I think it's fun to see you melt on my touch like that" He whispered against the shell of your ear, biting and nibbling at your earlobe as you pressed your lips to muffle the moans. 

"C-Cheol, p-please…" It felt humiliating to beg for him, but he knew how much you liked to do so. Whether it would be on your knees or on his lap, he always had you begging and pleading for him to touch you in the right way. You yelped as you felt his hand come down on your thigh, a hard and loud spank marking the flesh of your skin and making it tingle in pleasure. 

"That's not my name, pretty" He hummed, kissing up your jaw, his free hand traveling up your torso and wrapping around your throat, squeezing lightly. You knew what he wanted to be called, and it made your face flush with red. 

"D-Daddy…" The smirk on his face made your walls clench, seeing him get cocky always made you turned on. And that only boosted his ego "P-Please… Need you…" 

"That's my pretty girl" His voice sounded so endearing, but his fingers kept doing the dirty job, pumping in and out of your pussy with zero resentment. He brought his lips closer to yours, an inch away from kissing you "You want me that bad hm? Since we left the house you've been like this…" Your breath hitched, body tensing, Did he notice your absolute neediness in the past hour? He chuckled low. 

"Think I wouldn't notice? You squeezing your thighs together, tensing up every time that I touch you, avoiding physical touch with me when I know that you love to have your hands on me… I'm handsome but I'm not dumb, y'know?" Hearing him brag about himself made your cunt clench around his fingers, his head shaking negatively as he smiled "I'm so fucking lucky to have you, aren't I?" You whimper, lips searching for his in a messy kiss as you pathetically tried to move your hips, trying to find that sweet friction that you oh so needed to tip over the edge. But you soon felt empty as his fingers left you, hand stopping you from moving as you tried to wiggle your way to your orgasm. You whined, pouting mid kiss as you heard him laugh lightly. 

“So you rather have my fingers inside you than my dick? Got it” His hands were about to leave your body, but you hurriedly stopped him, aggressively shaking your head no. 

“No, no, no, no, please. Daddy please” You begged, eyes round and pleading for him to not leave you stranded like that, hot and bothered. 

“Daddy what, baby?” You could feel the tease dripping from his voice, strong hands holding your waist as he pressed himself against you more, making you easily feel his bulge through the pants. Your eyes rolled back, breath hitching as you tried to say again the all mighty words that could give you anything you wanted. 

“Daddy, please fuck me” Your breath came out shaky, eyes diving onto his gaze with your best puppy look as you pleaded for him to do something, anything. He smirked.

“Always such a polite and good girl” His lips glued on your neck, sucking even more purple spots on your skin as you felt one of his hands fumble to open his belt and pants, one of your hands coming down to help him out “All mine… You get that right? You’re only mine” He growled low in your ear, earning a whine from you as you felt your cunt clench around the cold air. Your panties were ruined at this point, so it was not hard for him to swissfully take them off of you, the air hitting your slicked slit and making a shiver go down your spine. Your fingers were fast to start pumping his shaft once his cock was out of its confines, your hand getting messy with his precum as you lubed him up, earning low growls and small curses from his plush lips that kept biting and sucking the entirety of your throat. 

Seungcheol lined his tip with your entrance, slowly stuffing you up as his hands helped your hips sink towards his, both of you moaning at the feeling of relief. Your knuckles were white from gripping in his shoulder for support, and his were white from gripping on your ass, the flesh being marked with his rough fingerprints and leaving bruises you were going to admire later. With no previous warning, Cheol gave an experimental thrust, grinning wide once he saw your eyes roll back as your mouth tried to gasp for the air that got knocked out of your lungs. Dr leaned over you, one of his hands holding onto the wall behind your figure, pressuring you and consequently diving even deeper in your cunt, your walls gripping around his dick with enough force to make him moan loud. Your eyes widened, the possibility of getting caught running through your mind again. 

"Worried someone's gonna find us, baby?" He asked teasingly, face getting closer as his lips were less than an inch away from yours "Don't worry, I'm making sure that Jeonghan hears from whenever he his how much you love to bounce on my dick" His voice sounded husky and dangerous, the hand holding against the wall gripping on your jaw, slowly making its way down to your throat "And don't you dare to muffle your noises, do you understand?" 

You nodded, eyes glazed with tears as he started to pound into you at an inhuman pace. Your head could not get thrown back due to the wall, but that didn't stop you from letting out the most choked out moans you could, whining as his cock rammed against your walls and hit your sweet spot over and over again. Didn't matter how long you two were married, you never got used to his size, thick and long, making you feel full and cumming just from getting inside of you. The stretch you felt was unbelievably delicious, your pussy spilling more and more of your juices on his dick, the gushing sounds being borderline pornographic and making you even wetter. You bit your lip hard in order to muffle a really loud, borderline scream moan, feeling as your teeth cut through the flesh of your soft lips and the taste of blood caressed your tongue gently. It wasn't until you felt your face being slapped, the tingling sensation pulsating on your cheeks as your eyes opened and you were met with Seungcheol's burning gaze on you, the anger and lust clouding his dark pupils. 

"What did I say about muffling your noises, darling?" He hissed through grinned teeth, fingers yet again wrapping around your throat, his strong grip squeezing tightly and making you light headed. The feeling of being railed by his cock while he choked you made your head spin around in dizziness, your cunt betraying you and spilling more of your juices, ruining his pants and making the skin of your thighs wet. You could barely whine, tears falling from your eyes as you tried your hardest to form a cohesive answer, but to no avail, babbling nonsense.

"Tsk, can't even follow a simple rule. You're really a dumb little slut, aren't you?" You mewl, feeling the coil underneath your stomach start to build up as he quickened his pace "But I can't complain. I like you like that: cockdumb, whiny and ready to be breed. Can only say my name again and again, can't you?" Your answer was a dragged moan of his name as he hit your spongy spot with force, your cries sounding like music to his ears "C'mon baby, tell everyone in this fucking event who's the one fucking you just right" He whispered in your ear, a moan from him following right along as your walls clamped around his dick like a vice, ready to milk him dry. His thrusts started to halt, becoming more frenetic as his hands gripped on your waist, making the task of pouding you to oblivion easier. The coil got tighter, your mouth shouting his name like a mantra over and over as your orgasm finally washed over you, making you see white as your whole body shook from the hard climax. 

Just as the overstimulation started to make you sensitive, you felt Cheol's body tense against yours, his pink lips spilling a series of curses, moans and your name as you felt his cock shoot white ropes of warm seed inside of you, cum mixing with your own and making a mess. You two stood in silence, catching up your breath as you cockwarmed him, hugging his shoulder tightly as he hugged your waist, gluing his body to your even more. Your fingers brushed the dark strains of hair that stick to his forehead, allowing you to see his face better before searching his mouth for a passionate kiss, tongue diving onto his mouth and tasting the drinks from earlier. 

"I needed you so fucking bad…" You said as he slowly pushed out of your pussy, the mixture of your cum with his slowly dripping from your legs as you pulled the ruined panties up, all while he pushed his dick back to his trousers and closed up his zipper.

"I needed you really fucking bad. Do you have any idea how amazing you look in that dress? Couldn't wait to fill you up..." He whined, motioning towards your figure as you searched around in the drawers that existed in the room, finding a box of tissues and cleaning the trail of cum that slowly made its way down your leg. You could feel the pool of cum pilling up inside your underwear, the thought of being filled up again by your husband making you instantly clench "Baby?"

"Hm?" You looked back at him, a shiver going down your spine as you noticed how dark his gaze still was. It was like he knew what was going on through your mind, he knew you like the back of his hand. 

“Let’s go home. I’m not done with you yet”