#though a bullet bra? maybe

[blunt-hound]

Personally, I think Lara Croft should've been an old, buff, rugged woman covered in scars. She's literally been dodging death since the 90s. She would not be wearing a pushup bra and still looking like she's in her 20s.

This is targeted at her DBD model btw.

[marzipanandminutiae]

You don’t like 1920s, 1940s AND 1950s fashion? Damn what did the mid-century do to you lol. K but seriously why not the 50s? The skirts had volume and were long-ish (at least in high fashion) and blouses were well structured and fitted and often had embroidery or embellishments.

Obviously I don't hate ALL of it; no era is a monolith. But there are a few things these eras have in common that I hate:

The rise of synthetic fabrics, AKA Using Plastic To Make Clothing. We're now at a place in terms of clothing where its actively harder and more expensive to wear natural fibers than to wear clothing made entirely of a substance that leaches into our water, holds odors, makes us sweat more, doesn't generally last as long or admit as much repair over time as most natural textiles, and just Kind of Sucks all around except for a few very specific purposes. Synthetics weren't invented in the 1920s, and natural fibers were common in all of these eras than they are today, but it was definitely increasing amounts of "BUY THESE NEW EXCITING PROGRESSIVE MODERN FABRICS!!!" throughout the early and mid-20th century. Which pisses me off in principle.

Less practical garments unless you lived a very specific lifestyle- namely, access to washing machines and a willingness to launder clothing after just one wear. Modern clothing is just not great unless you have access to very frequent washing (see above re: holding odors more than many natural fibers) and barrier garments to keep sweat away from them and stretch the time between washes aren't a thing anymore for most people. In the eras mentioned, everyone was getting so excited about machine laundry capabilities- and who wouldn't? washing machines ARE a huge boon! no denying that! -that they shifted away from modes of dress designed to minimize the necessity of laundering outer clothes. Except now, with concerns about the aforementioned microplastic leaching from washing machines draining into municipal sewers and less mendable clothing- washing is a huge strain on garments, and wears them out faster if you do it too often -we need to be getting back to the system of having fewer but higher quality garments and washing them less often. Except we can't. Because some idiot in the 1920s said "whoopee nobody will ever need linen combinations or chemises that actually serve a purpose anymore!" and the subsequent decades continued it.

The silhouettes generally do not spark joy for me. 1920s actively makes me fly into a rage and scream into pillows, with the exception of robes de style MAYBE. 1940s...well, let's say there was a reason the New Look was so popular, and that's "no more boxy utility wartime clothes." I will give 1940s the hair prize here, though, because I like it better than any other decade 1920s-50s. I actually DO like the New Look! ...but not its combination with the bullet bra; yikes. This is highly subjective.

Some of the textiles, patterns, colors, and common embellishments used are just not my thing. I don't go in for Bold And Graphic And Geometric anything, usually. With a very very small number of exceptions. Polka dots and florals are also not my thing (unless the florals are on a dark background). Plastic jewelry? Hard pass. ~Fun~ motifs like fruit (except pomegranates which have Goth Appeal), the poodles on a poodle skirt, household objects, transportation, etc? No thank you; reads too Kindergarten Teacher for me. Again, not universal or exclusive to those eras- witness the 1880s chicken-print dress I saw an illustration of once -but more prevalent, to my eyes.

Hair. 1920s bobs make most people's heads look blocks. I love a good bob, but those are not Good in my opinion. 1920s Up Hair is usually meant to mimic a bob. 1930s was only a little bit better. 1940s, as I've said, was skirting the line for me and marginally acceptable. 1950s took us right back to a solid Nope with either short poodle cuts or pageboys as the main options for adult women. An occasional chignon maybe, but nothing else that appeals to me personally. just not great all around.

All of these eras were holier-than-thou about the Victorians and their fashion, which I love, so I'm petty about it. Yes please tell me more about how your plastic bullet bras or potato sack dresses are inherently superior to Grandma's elegant and comfortable long wool skirts with the perfect center back pleating. Oh, the 1860s were the ugliest fashion period ever in your opinion? Fascinating. I am setting your car on fire.

I actually DO like the New Look...which is heavily inspired by mid-19th century fashion, so that's not really any big surprise. Still has the issues with synthetic materials and the end of practical undergarments, though. Also, why stop at mid-calf for everyday skirts? Instep Or Bust You Cowards.

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[Smut Challenge - Neighbor Series] John "Soap" MacTavish*Fem!Reader

Soap with a Jogging partner!Reader neighbor.

Word Count: 2.1k

CW: 18+, mdni, pet names, shower sex, thigh fucking, I’m practicing writing smut :) (maybe poor Scottish accent I tried sorry)

pls tell me if I forget to tag something in CW! tyvm!

Johnny loved his neighborhood quite a lot.

Near both the base and a gym, not far from a lake with fresh air and kind people greeting him when he was off from the base and going on a jog every morning.

so it was not exaggerating to say he missed his flat so much when he finally came back from a 3 months mission and was fortunate enough to have 2 weeks off to recover from the injury he gained during the mission.

The injury wasn’t that severe, just a bullet grazed over his right hand, but since the mission was successfully completed and all his teammates were going home during the vacation (or Simon munching chips in his flat near the base too) there was no reason for him to stay at the base.

Johnny climbed up the stairs to his flat at midnight, the whole neighborhood was silent, only the moon was his company, so he tried his best to stay quiet too, but just as he passed by the room next to his, he noticed it wasn’t vacant like the last time he came back here.

Maybe he could find out who his new neighbor was tomorrow after he washed off all the grime and dirt from his body so he wouldn’t leave a nasty weird man first impression for them.

Johnny still kept up his morning routine — jogging, since the wound wouldn’t be affected by simply running around.

Putting on his sweatpants and a hoodie, he stepped out the threshold and bent down to tie his sneakers.

A creak from the next door drew his attention.

You came out from the next door, and his eyes traveled, from your joggers, up to your sports bra, then stopped at your face.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to you the moment his eyes laid on you.

You looked majestic, even though you were just wearing normal clothes for exercise, but he adored your body’s curves, the lines of your muscles on your thighs, firm abs on your tummy but still got a little belly, hair tied high up into a cute bun.

“Oh, Good Morning!” He watched you recognize his existence and greeted him with a dazzling grin.

“Mornin’ lassie.”

“Haven’t seen you since I moved in, nice to see my neighbor is enjoying morning jog too.” 

Johnny strolled to your side, and the sight of you raising your head to meet his eyes almost made him want to squish you into a hug.

“aye, ye wanna go with me? used to have a run along the lake.” He invited, jogging alone was a bit boring, and now there was a pretty girl in front of him, of course, he wouldn’t let the chance slip from his hand, and from how your eyes brightened to his words, he knew he made a right step to the relationship.

“that’s where I always go for!” You signaled him to follow you “Of course, I would be happy to have someone with me.”

It became a morning routine since the first day you two went to jog together.

Every morning, Johnny stepped out of his flat and was met with a smile that he thought was too pure for a man like him.

He wasn’t a stupid man, he could sense the sparkles between you two, the blush when you handed him a bottle of water and accidentally touched his hand, the fluster and attempt to cover your face when he flirted with you, how you stared at him while he was looking at other direction and unaware of he noticed it.

Not like he didn’t enjoy your affection, Johnny told you his job when you asked about his injury, and when 2 weeks passed and he went back to work, he no longer stayed at base when he could choose to live at his flat, so he could continue the morning routine you two had.

When he told you he was deployed and won’t be back for weeks even months, he always got a lot of things from you to bring to base, from snacks and sweaters to handwriting, spoiling him with your love.

He realized you became the person he thought of within the arduous missions. He recalled your laughter the times he told you jokes, your relaxing sigh when you two were resting from a run, the breeze blew away the heat, and he turned around, eyes unable to move away from your smile.

but he ate his own words, this time he came back from a mission, but he got shot in his left shoulder, he didn’t come back without injuries as he promised you.

Johnny felt a bit guilty when he knocked on your door, and your face changed from excitement to concern when his bandaged left shoulder came into your sight.

“Johnny! How do you get this?” You quickly but carefully pulled him inside, pushing him to sit on the couch.

“Nothin’ to worry about, jus’ a bullet.” Johnny playfully squeezed the hand you used to inspect him, but you glared at him.

“No way a bullet wound is ‘nothing’, how many days do you have this time before you need to go back?”

“3 weeks?”

“Good.” Your voice firm “From now on, you’re not allowed to do anything except sit still and recover, got it?”

“I ken ye worried but-“

“I said do you got it, John MacTavish?”

“aye, bonnie...”

Johnny obediently sat on the couch after you threatened him to not move around then headed into the kitchen to make some food. He couldn’t help but let out a laugh, sometimes you’re adorably stubborn, especially when it was regarding his health, but 5 minutes later, he still sneaked up to your back.

“Hey...”

“Ah!” You let out an incredibly monster-like squeal when Johnny snaked his arms around your waist, and you looked over your shoulder, the face of the man you secretly liked was just a few inches away from yours.

“Didn’t I tell you to sit on the damn couch?” You scolded.

“can nae jus’ sit right there and look at ma bonnie busy in the kitchen.” 

Johnny nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck, he loved the scent of yours so much, mixed with the shampoo, lotion, and your detergent, he couldn’t describe the smell, but it never failed to fascinate him.

“you know...” abruptly, you stopped the hand cutting the vegetables “You shouldn’t do this to people other than your girlfriend.”

You hanged your head and stayed still, maybe it was time to tell him your feelings. This time he was lucky enough to come back alive, but who can guarantee the next time? Every time he left, you swallowed down the confession that was just about to slip out of your lips, you were afraid, you knew he must be good at his job, but each time you saw him with bruises and wounds, you were scared at the possibility of not having a chance to tell him you want your relationship not only stay at jogging partner or friends.

but Johnny just let out a question, voice full of confusion.

“You aren’t?” 

You turned your head and faced him “Wait, Am I?”

“Aren’t we together for months?”

“but you didn’t tell me you like me!” 

“Oh.” He smirked, “So you don’t want to be my girlfriend?”

“...” mouth agape, you literally can progress what you just learned.

“ye gonna drool all over ye shirt, bonnie” Johnny’s pinch on your cheek brought you back to reality, the gear in your head finally started functioning again, and you pouted at his laugh.

“You are an idiot.” You said.

“aye aye, I’m an idiot, your idiot, okay?” He just shut you up with a kiss on your lips.

You were not going to complain.

You and Johnny finished the dinner and cleaned up the kitchen. You wiped your hands on the towel and called out at Johnny — who kept following you around.

“Alright, you go to shower first, tell me if you need anything, okay?” You handed him some towel, but he just stood there, and the smugness on his face told you he was definitely planning on some weird things.

“I can nae lift my arm, I can’t wash myself.” He spoke.

“I can help you wash your hair first.”

“I can’t reach down to wash my feet.”

“I can-“

“Do ye really want yer poor boyfriend who’s severely injured wash himself?” He stepped closer, shoulders slumped and eyebrows collapsed.

“You said it’s just a bullet.”

“It hurts.”

“...fine.” You obliged, and you watched his smile become wider, this man just understood how to let people fall into his trap by his fucking doe eyes and begging.

so now here you are, standing next to your naked boyfriend who took off his clothes suspiciously too fast, and now he was staring at you again, feigning innocence on his face.

“Why ye haven’t taken off yer clothes, baby?” 

“I'm going to help you wash your body, not wash mine with you, Johnny.”

“But ye will get yourself wet if you don’t.” 

“You sure you won’t do other things?” Your eyes narrowed, asking him a question you weren’t even sure you could accomplish.

“I won’t, please?” 

“...” You sighed and started taking off your own clothes. Fuck this man and his fucking beautiful eyes.

Johnny turned on the shower, and just as you stepped into the shower, the steam had already filled the bathroom.

“bend down a bit.” You commanded, and he did what you said, lowering himself so you could put shampoo on his hair, and massage his scalp.

You heard him let out a sigh, and you chuckled.

“Is it comfortable?”

“aye.” his eyes closed, indulging in the sensation.

Keeping massaging his scalp and making sure every inch of his hair had been washed, you rinsed the bubble off his hair.

Suds flew past your feet, and just as you turned around and ready to squeeze some shower gel, a pair of feisty hands settled themselves on your hips without warning.

You should know this man wouldn’t stay still from the start.

“Yer so fucking beautiful, bonnie” You could feel his chest pressed against your back, and something was prodding at your thighs.

“Didn’t I tell you nothing but a normal shower just a few minutes ago?”

“Just can’t help myself when my pretty lass is right here helping me.” He nudged forward, now you could feel his shaft sliding between your thighs.

A moan came out from you when Johnny licked a line from your shoulder to your neck, resonating in the cramped bathroom.

“Hey! Johnny! ahh...! You will tear your stitches!” you tried to reprimand him, but you couldn’t even convince yourself, voices shudder and pussy dripping juices on Johnny’s cock when he started sliding it against your slickened folds.

“Then ya can help me, lovie, hmm?” He suddenly halted his movements, only teasingly slapping his tip at your folds.

“You bastard...” The eagerness you had for this man finally conquer your rational mind, you stuck your ass out and humped back, whines rolled off your tongue uncontrollably when Johnny’s thick cock kept stimulating your clit every time you shifted, whilst Johnny moans out his pleasure, you slightly plumpy thighs with some muscles added the proper pressure to massage his cock.

You could feel his shaft twitching, indicating his high wasn’t too far away, so you quickened your hips, making the man let out a sexy groan that made your cheeks flush redder than rose.

“gonna cum if you keep moving like that... fuck...” Johnny panted right into your ears, his Scottish accent heavier than usual, voice sweet like candy, alluring you to reach an arm back, shove him down and pull him into a passionate kiss.

The squelching sounds fueled the impulses in your mind, tongues dancing with his, and you felt like your orgasm was just a step away.

“Johnny... ahh... I’m cumming!” Your legs trembling due to the bliss, and Johnny just swallowed all your moans down with another deep kiss, and just as his tongue swipe through your bottom lip, the knot in your tummy untied, your muffled scream was drank down by him, and you heard Johnny broke the kiss few seconds after and groan, warm and milky cum staining your inner thighs as his groan lasted long.

Both panting hardly, Johnny hugged you against him with his good arm, your ear abut on his chest, and a warm feeling occupied your chest when you listened to his steady heartbeat.

“Guess we gonna clean ourselves again.” You muttered.

“Ye mad?” A peck landed on your cheek, you saw the sly glints in Johnny's eyes.

“Well, not that I can’t forgive you for this time.”

[trippinsorrows]

What would be Roman's answer/opinion on Solana or even Leya and Lina wanting to have any kind of cosmetic procedure 👀

Besides his blood pressure going through the roof 😭

oooh, i like this! ya'll always ask such good questions. 😭😭😭 he very much respects their body autonomy, but he'd also not be in agreement. he loves his wife just the way she is, and his girls are beautiful just the way they are. ultimately, he just wants them to be happy though, so he'll bite the bullet and support whatever decision they make 😭

though, i can see him being in agreement if like lina and leya wanted a breast reduction or something, cause i imagine them as being curvy just like solana was at their age.

hence this random scene that came to my head when i read this.

"thank you," solana smiles, forever grateful for her husband. such a small thing. reaching her the clothing basket, standing here with her, helping her fold laundry. a nice, quiet moment for the two of them as their six children engage in their own little worlds.

a part of her knows while roman must also appreciate the alone time they get, it's mostly because with her now almost four months pregnant and showing, he dislikes her doing any sort of lifting. and that includes laundry.

granted, the kids are usually responsible for that, mostly the older ones, she also knows they're in the middle of studying for midterms, so she's taken over just this week, with, again, much appreciated assistance from her husband.

of course, the basket he's reached her is the smaller of the two available load of clothes fresh out the dryer. naturally, they start piles for each child and themselves, solana just so happening to catch when roman adds something to her pile that she automatically knows is not hers.

"that's not mine, babe," she explains. reaching for the item, solana only needs to take one look to know whose it is. "that's lina's." and then she catches herself. "wait, it's pink, so it's leya's." with the two wearing the same size, it's hard to keep track.

thank God for them having two very different likes when it comes to colors.

roman, however, is only looking with wide eyes as he gestures to the pale pink bra now sitting on top of leya's other clothes. "that's leya's?"

solana smiles a bit. "it's certainly not mine, ro." with a humored chuckle, she shares, "i haven't been a d cup since....well, since i was their age."

with almost a sense of nervousness, roman lifts the bra by the straps, asking yet again, "this is my sixteen year old daughter's bra?"

solana rolls her eyes, shaking one of tama's shirts to rid it of lingering wrinkles. "that's what i just said, ro."

another confirmation makes him abruptly drop said bra with a look of disgust. "what the hell, sol?" a sigh leaves her as roman's nerves are leaving him. "she's sixteen years old. she's still a kid. she's too young to be that.....you know."

solana places the shirt atop the pile, explaining in a calm voice, "roman, you know they're just like me. they hit puberty early, so they've developed early." and maybe he doesn't remember this, possibly having shoved it away to the back of his mind, cause solana knows how hard those early years were for her husband.

when he was dealing with mood swings galore among other borderline traumatic things.

"i don't care." of course, he doesn't. "she's my little girl. they both are."

solana places the clothes down on the counter and moves over to him, hugging him. "they'll always be your little girls, ro. but they're not little anymore."

[wheredafandomat]

Shrink | P6 - Mutual decision

Avenger! Loki x Therapist! Reader

18+ | same previous warnings, smut etc

Previous Next

You couldn’t stop thinking about Loki. Thoughts of him plagued your mind; you knew it was time to end therapy with him, besides, he was dating now, he was better or at least getting better. You decided that the best thing you could do was confront the situation head on, tell him to his face that you were deciding to terminate his treatment with you so that when you eventually left the compound, you’d do so a new woman, Loki free. You didn’t want to wait until you were back at work, you thought that’d hurt him more. This was the best way. Taking a deep breath, you left your room and made your way towards his.

As you stepped out of your room, you were surprised to see that Loki had just done the same out of his and was facing you. You felt light under his gaze, you couldn’t end things with him, potentially never seeing him again but you also couldn’t continue therapy. You needed him gone but you couldn’t get rid of him. You paused, feeling as though you were in a bubble as he walked towards you.

“I think we should stop see—” he began, bursting your bubble as your eyes rounded.

“I think we should stop seeing each other.” You quickly interrupted.

“Wait, what? Why do you think we should stop seeing each other? I thought we were making breakthroughs? You’re my therapist, we can’t just stop.” Loki spiraled.

“Alright Mr hypocrite, why do you think we should stop seeing each other?” You questioned, crossing your arms as you awaited his reply.

“Because” Loki paused, looking into your eyes “because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Really?” You smiled, uncrossing your arms.

“Yes” Loki nodded “and seeing as we are being honest here, the thoughts are wildly inappropriate and I am a respectful man, you know I am a respectful man so we should end this now because—why are you smiling?” He stopped, noticing your smile widening.

“I have inappropriate thoughts about you too.” You beamed.

“You do?” Loki grinned.

“So inappropriate.” You added sultrily, biting your lip as you looked at one another. There was a thick silence between you both as you allowed each other to explore one another with your eyes. You worked your ways down slowly before your gazes met again, both of you daring the other to make the next move. Before you could work out who bit the bullet first, you found yourself engulfed in a feeling of warmth that spread through your body as Loki’s lips met yours in a zealous kiss. It ended quickly, your eyes opening as you took a breath.

“Wow.” You exhaled before Loki was kissing you again, this time with his hand at the back of your head as he pulled you into him. Your tongues moved against each others, both of you groaning into the kiss.

“Norns.” Loki murmured as you broke the kiss, both of you catching your breaths back. There was another beat of soundlessness, both of you silently agreeing that after doing what you both so desperately wanted to do, there was no going back. You glanced past Loki, a signal telling him that he could turn around, he could leave, forget about this before your eyes met again. He subtly shook his head no, only a little, maybe subconsciously. He wanted this too.

Before you could protest, saving your own moral compass, Loki pressed you against the wall, kissing you with ardor as one of his legs settled between your own. You rolled your hips against it as he teased your centre with his knee. You moaned into the kiss as he sucked your tongue, your moan turning into more of a plea for more as his hand cupped one of your breasts. Feeling your hips moving eagerly, Loki’s hand dropped from your chest before inching up your shirt and cupping your breast again, only this time the only barrier was the thin material of your bra. The atmosphere between you both could only be described as electric as your hands roamed each other's bodies. Reaching out to touch Loki, you lifted his shirt up over his head before discarding it on the floor. Your eyes widened as you took him in.

“What?” He smirked, noticing your ogling.

“You are—I mean-you really take care of yourself.” You rambled, eyes moving across his muscular chest and down his sinful torso.

“Why thank you.” He answered coyly before pulling you into another kiss you quickly reciprocated.

Wordlessly he lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he held you against the wall. You could feel his cock straining against his trousers, taunting your needy cunt as you tried to press yourself further into Loki. His lips met your neck, your eyes closing as they moved across it. You could tell he was growing more wanton for you as he rutted against you in a foolish attempt at taming his desire.

“Stop teasing.” You whispered, looking into his eyes. Narrowing his gaze challengingly, Loki raised one of his brows in amusement before he answered.

“Very well, your wish is my pleasure to grant.” He spoke, lifting his hand and clicking his fingers as you watched him in confusion before noticing a green shimmer engulf you both. Gasping as it dissipated, you realised you were both naked. Your immediate thought should have been to scold him, to cover yourself up but instead, your pussy ached to be touched by him, your body craved him urgently. You didn’t care that the two of you could have easily been caught. In fact, the thought was thrilling, it made you want him more.

Hand dropping between you both, Loki’s name fell from your lips as you felt his fingers against your clit. He drew small circles there, your clit throbbing as his long digits moved through your folds, gathering your slick. Before you could sink in the pleasure, Loki retracted his hand before bringing his fingers up to his mouth. You bit your lip as his tongue darted out before he smirked.

“So that was the sweetness in the air” he confirmed before licking your arousal off of his fingers “you naughty naughty girl” he tutted, gripping his cock and palming himself as he lined himself up with your entrance “tell me” he began, running his cock through your folds before meeting your entrance again “did you think about me as you touched yourself?”

Before you could answer, Loki was inside you, stretching you completely as he filled you leaving you almost crying out in pleasure. You were shocked at his words and his actions, this didn’t seem like the same Loki you had been seeing all these weeks. He pulled out a little before thrusting inside of you again, your eyes meeting before you realised it wasn’t the same Loki, this one had a determined gleam in his eye, this one was raw, animalistic. This was him, relieving the sexual frustration you told him he had, the sexual frustration you both shared.

“Yesss.” You answered with your own smile knowing that tonight was going to be the best sex of your life.

It’s happening. I can’t believe I’m dragging this out to another chap 😂 I just don’t wanna say bye to them. Plus 7 is a nice number. I’m sorry

Next

Tags:

@lokisgoodgirl @thenotoriouserg @chantsdemarins @donaweasley @xorpsbane @mcufan72 @loz-3 @evelyn-kingsley @sailorholly @lovingchoices14 @lokiedokiee @noideakitten @mochie85 @mischief2sarawr @lokiprompts @lulubelle814 @fictive-sl0th @peaches1958 @gigglingtiggerv2 @tmilover1993 @lyds247 @dustychinchilla74 @lokis-dark-queen @november-rayne @12-pm-510 @vickie5546 @newtomofgods @eyesbluelikethetitanic @lokiestorch @somewhereinthegalaxi @beautyb1ade @angelilacsworld @lokidokieokie @mushypork

[babiebom]

Fetishes/Kinks I think the family has

A/N: Only for Johnny, Sissy, Nubbins, and Bubba<3(sorry Drayton stans) I don't usually write these things, but I feel like I want people to know that I do infact take requests that are similar as long as it's not full on smut. This obsession has gotten completely out of control.

Tw: sexual content. Dubcon, cnc etc. It's kinks for a family that murders...it's not gonna be normal that's for sure

Genre: headcanons?

Wc: maybe 3 or 4 kinks/fetishes per person and 2+ bullet points per kink/fetish?

Bubba(leatherface)

Praise Kink(receiving)

I think this is canon. I watched the second movie and I'm pretty sure he has one?

He likes being called a good boy he likes it when you tell him he's been good literally his favorite thing

Tell him he is doing a good uob and behaving and he will finish on the spot ngl

Thesauromania

This is the collecting and arousal to womens clothing including and usually underwear

I feel like Bubba is the type to steal panties and bras to use and smell. If they have a victim that's a woman that he thinks is particularly attracted to odds are he is going to steal their underwear and keep it in a little drawer that he has in the basement.

He doesn't get caught because he is usually the one that has to butcher and cut up the victims so no one really notices or cares enough to notice that the underwear is gone when keeping or getting rid of the clothes

bDSm

I feel like Bubba is submissive and would like a partner that is more dominant

I think he would prefer a gentle dom though, someone that praises and takes care of him, especially because he doesn't know what he's doing. He wants to feel wanted and cared for, so I think this fits

I also think that because of his personality he wouldn't really like being the dom. He gets told what to do all the time. It's the only thing he knows, him taking charge would just give him anxiety, he needs to be told what to do...maybe in a more sweet manner though.

Nubbins(hitchhiker)

Knife play

He would love to cut up his partner. He loves his little knife with all his heart so incorporating it into sex would be a given

He would try not to go too deep but yknow sometimes things happen...isn't trying to kill though

Or maybe he is idk

Would also be okay with his partner cutting him. I don't think he has any specific reasons he just enjoys it.

Photography

I think he would like to take pictures of his significant other or fling while doing the do, before, and after

He already likes taking pictures of things that he has an interest or attraction to

Like dead animals and bodies the sunset flowers he is probably a real good photographer if I'm being honest

So he would probably want his significant other to pose a certain way while doing certain things so he could take pictures

Would show off the pictures to anyone that will look at them and probably doesn't understand when people are either mortified or upset that he's shown them. He thinks it's pretty why don't they?

Johnny

Does get off to the pictures...he can't help it.

Belonephilia

Sexual arousal to sharp objects

He definitely has a sexual attraction to needles knives and other sharp things

If his partner isn't up for getting poked and cut he would let them do it to him

Or at least run it over skin or something

He just needs something to be around and it doesn't matter if it's given or received he enjoys either.

Marking

He 100 percent likes marking up not only partners but probably anyone he sleeps with

Like everyone has to know that they belong to him and they will know that by the amount of marks that litter their body

There are bite marks, hickeys, scratches, cuts, bruises. This man will do any and everything in order to mark his partner

Wants the marks to last a WHILE would prefer them to last forever but does like marking them up so he's okay with having to redo them.

Hematolagnia

The sexual arousal to blood

This man HIGHKEY gets off on making his partner bleed and seeing victims bleed/licking up their blood

Wouldn't drink blood in a cup but would cut his partner or bite them to the point of them bleeding then lick or suck on the spot

Man is low key a vampire

Dacryphilia

The sexual arousal to crying/tears

Would 100 percent be the type that his entire goal while fucking is to make his partner cry

He doesn't care if they're crying because it's too much, too good, or they are simply overwhelmed he WANTS those tears and he's going to get them one way or another

And since he is a serial killer(the closest person to one in the family) I feel like he gets off on his victims crying like

No it's not gonna make him feel bad if you cry it's just gonna make him hard.

It's the quickest way to NOT surviving imo.

Odaxelagnia

An obsession with biting and or being bitten

It has been in almost every kink of his so far.

I don't think it goes as far as an oral fixation it is literally just him liking to bite people

He likes the feeling of their skin on his teeth

Likes the feeling of the skin breaking from him biting down

And it gives him a chance to mark his partner up AND gives him a chance to taste their blood so it's like a 3 for 1 special

His long-term partner would probably have a scar from how deeply he bites. Like Bella from twilight and the little scar she got from James :)

Sissy

Wax play

I feel like she would be the type of person to want to drip hot wax on her partners. Would definitely do it unexpectedly while they're tied up and be like "it's okay darlin' it's only gonna sting for a sec"

Likes to make pictures with the wax because she thinks it's pretty especially on whoever her partner is.

Bdsm

Would like bondage tbh

Like tying her partner up is something she would enjoy

"You don't have'ta worry 'bout nothin' sugar. Just let me take care of ya"

Also pairs with the next kink and the wax play this woman likes taking control in a gentle way like it's not the taking control that is what she likes, she just likes taking care of her partner

Ties the ropes in pretty ways.

Blindfolding

Likes to blindfold her partner and take away their senses so all they can feel is her

She wants them to be focused on nothing more than her and the pleasure she is giving them

You don't need to be able to see or move to feel pleasure, so she's taking those away so you have less things to worry about

Also likes the element of surprise that it brings

Body Painting

I think she paints?

Im not sure but I feel like she does

And i think she would like to paint on her partner. Maybe with their cum idk I just feel like she would enjoy it, find it calming

Would use the painting as foreplay, gets her significant other riled up with her painting it would make everything more sensitive

[seeingstarks]

the cream on the cake wants to escape

summary : being newly signed to all elite wrestling, you don't know many people and expect no one to show up to your birthday party but end up with company of the devil himself and mr. best in the world. pairing : mjf x cm punk x plus size afab!reader cw : cursing, many sexual innuendos, teasing, breast grabbing/kneading, daddy/babygirl/daddy dynamic, implied cmjf references, thigh riding, cock/clit teasing, begging, male masturbation, blowjobs, dirty talk, double penetration, creampies, butt-plugs, slight bondage, ass slapping, utter filth. a/n : my birthday is in three days and with cm punk coming back soon i just had to whip something up also i love cmjf but basically this is something small i made for myself. i hope you all enjoy it though and as always reblogs are very much appreciated!! my ask box might be open soon for drabbles as i'm slowly getting the inspo for writing again. <3 there may be a few spelling/punctuation errors. word count : 2,518 words tag list : @josiewrites , @baysexuality

some of the talent backstage had their suspicions when you became apart of bullet club gold in just a matter of months after being signed to all elite wrestling.

the rumours began to spread, hushed whispers down the halls the moment you left a room. there was no getting away from your ex - however none of them knew what actually happened.

you carefully hand-wrote each invitation to your birthday party being held later that night, allowing everyone to bring a plus one. in each envelope corner you curled a cursive letter heart with your initials on it.

not knowing many people at all elite, you felt doubt that anyone would come. if you had known more people maybe they would have thrown you a surprise party instead of doing one for yourself.

with a sigh you sat down at catering after grabbing a boxed cupcake juice robinson gave you earlier but didn't have time to sit down and eat until now.

glancing around, not many seemed to even care or notice it was your birthday. they were either too wrapped up in their own lives or didn't see you sitting all alone.

pulling out a lighter from your jacket pocket you attempted to ignite the flame a few times but had no luck. "seriously, the one time where things go to absolute shit and it's my birthday!?" you cursed out weight shifting as you felt someone's presence next to you.

anyone but him. "how is my switchblade babe doin', aye? need a light?" jay questioned with a smirk before pulling out his lighter and igniting the candle on the cupcake as if it were nothing.

you rolled your eyes before even taking a glance at jay, "didn't need your help, and don't call me that. we're not together anymore. don't even know why we're in a stable together." you crossed your arms at your ex.

"wow.. last time i help a friend out. well, i'll leave ya' be then." jay stood up and walked away while you took the wrapper off your cupcake and took a bite from the sweet treat.

a single tear fell down from the corner of your eyelid, today of all days you felt most lonely. the salty liquid ran all the way down to your lips and you didn't want anyone to see you crying. luckily bullet club gold wouldn't be needing the locker room today as you booked it and locked the door behind you.

the rest of the day seemed to go by at an agonizingly slow pace, you began to set up pastel decorations and blew up a few balloons as the clock ticked down nearing the time for guests to arrive.

walking into the washroom, you fixed up your h/c hair and brushed it off to the side while fixing your black dress which hugged your curves perfectly. not having the time to put a bra on or even caring about it, you shrugged while looking in the mirror and threw a light jean jacket on over the dress while slipping on a pair of combat boots, comfort and style.

once ready, you took a seat on the sofa and waited a good ten minutes before someone knocked on the door, "coming!!"

once seeing who was in your doorway your mouth fell agape, so many questions filling your mind but words unable to form.

"you 'gonna just stand there or welcome me in, i'll move ya' if i have too." shaking your head, you simply giggled and stepped aside.

"how- when- where?" you questioned and raised an eyebrow while looking the chicago native up and down who did indeed age like fine wine.

"okay.. see lemme' explain. me and uh- let's say a co-worker of mine paid off the others not to come in order for you to have a special night, that is... if you want."

you punched phil on the chest, who didn't flinch the slightest. the chicago native pretending to be hurt and scrunching up his face, "ouch that hurt soooo much."

"i was crying earlier and this so called co-worker of yours is nowhere to be seen!" you yelled at him and punched the man once again.

"shhh, babygirl. there he is." your eyes left his and looked up to meet with a pair of dark hues belonging to the devil himself who locked the door behind him.

"aw, are you two getting started without me?" maxwell asked.

gulping thickly you hid you your face in the crook of the chicago native's neck, your cheeks starting to heat up the moment phil wrapped his large hands around your waist and gave a slight squeeze.

"so brave before and now look at her hiding... we're gonna' have fun with you tonight, such a shy doll isn't that right?" maxwell taunted and approached the two of you, the heat of his breath running down your own neck sending chills down your spine, "but tonight is all about the birthday girl.. tomorrow me and phil have our fun.. that is if you can still walk by the time we're done."

stepping away from phil momentarily, you allowed him to still hold your hips as you looked up at him with a soft smile. "well... i've always wanted to try thigh riding.." you admitted shyly while glancing between the two men as they each shared a knowing look which could only mean trouble.

"oh? whose thigh do you wanna ride first?" phil pulled you in closer, rubbing his hands along your curves and pressing his growing hard on up against you, "look what you're doing to me already baby.."

maxwell smirked as another pair of hands went behind your figure, going under your shirt and massaging your breasts as you let out a soft moan for the devil, "fuck- not wearing a bra, is that just for daddy?" he asked and pinched your nipples causing a whine to escape your lips all at the same time when phil brushed the tip of his cock up against your clothed entrance.

"n-no it mm- happened by coincidence but i will make sure to wear em' less for both my daddies." you responded with a grin.

"did you hear that phil? she's got two daddies now- will be fun adding a chick into our little adventures, hm?" max questioned the chicago native who simply nodded as the two men continued to tease you.

throwing your head back you let out another moan, your underwear soaked at this point simply by the fact of phil teasing your clothed clit with his cock and maxwell tormenting your breasts with his hands, kneading at them as your nipples hardened under his touch, "more daddy- please-" you begged and took a sharp breath.

lifting your arms up, maxwell helped rid you of the black dress and phil briefly picked you up off your feet to slip the combat boots which were discarded haphazardly toward the floor.

you looked down and attempted to take your underwear off which caused phil to shake his head, "not yet, baby. don't think we forget about your little request."

phil took his clothing off and laid back on the sofa, luring you over with a finger wave as you straddled his thigh he pushed his knee up against your clit.

"go ahead and get off on my thigh, babygirl." your cheeks heated up once given permission as you began to ride his thigh, soft whimpers and moans already falling from your lips at the friction being created from your underwear.

"look at you.. soaked already and you haven't even had a cock inside you yet. just imagine how messy you're gonna be with both me and max inside you." the mere thought of what phil just said caused you to ride his thigh even faster, the moans becoming louder, your attention being adverted for a moment as you looked over in the corner to see maxwell jerking himself off in the chair, "don't stop doll, 'wanna watch." he spoke with a pant and you kept eye contact with maxwell while moaning out, "mmm-fuck!"

you were clearly falling apart on the chicago native, his cock hard while watching the curved beauty above him get off on just his thigh. "daddy- i'm so close-" you whined and grinded up against the man before making even more of a mess in your underwear.

"fuck- i'm close too babygirl-" maxwell spoke in broken breaths and phil gave you the okay to leave his thigh but not before he took your underwear as a sort of token to his accomplishments.

you crawled off the sofa, ass in the air which was definitely a sight to see for phil as your clit was still soaked from moments before. you dropped down to your knees infront of maxwell who had cum already dripping from the tip of his cock.

you stuck your tongue out and gave him kitten licks, looking up at maxwell with hooded eyes as his hands wrapped around in your hair and tugged gently while you took more of his length in and sucked lovingly. the man was already edging himself so it didn't take long for him to fill the entirety of your mouth with his warm seed, "i forgot to buy cake but that was some good as hell frosting." you smirked and wiped the remainder of the cum off your lips.

"always more where that came from, baby. however when the clock strikes midnight we get to have fun our way."

"what does your way entail exactly, phil?" you asked in a shy tone.

"well.. let's just say instead of crying over a stupid ex it will be because of overstimulation or.." phil looked around the room, a smirk growing on his lips, "cause we tied you up with this pastel ribbon. all depends if you're a good girl for us or not. isn't that right?"

you nodded your head, "yes sir, but i rather like that idea."

maxwell stood up from the chair and approached you, "what do you say we try it out tonight?"

you nodded your head so fast if you were a bobble head it would have popped off, eager to have more fun with the two men. "yes, pretty please."

"oh.. look how desperate she is to be tied up and filled with two cocks... think she can handle us both at the same time?" maxwell asked phil.

"let's find out and see."

phil picked you up and carried you to the sofa, placing kisses on each wrist before tying them together with pastel ribbon.

"ass up, legs spread." maxwell used a demanding tone of voice which had you dripping, he ran his fingers along your folds, "such a good girl already. prepared for the devil to corrupt you?" it wasn't a question, more of a warning as he slid into your entrance, giving you little time to adjust in attempts to grasp at the sofa.

"fuck, such a beautiful sight. look at her already clenching onto you so tight max.." phil hummed and entered himself slowly into your asshole, nearly hissing at how tight you were.

"p-phil- you're huge!" you yelled out, head barely able to think of a single thought while being stuffed full of two humongous cocks.

phil slapped you on the ass while entering the rest of his cock into you slowly as maxwell started to thrust, "that's daddy to you, got it?"

"uh-mhmm! yes daddy!" words became incoherent mumbles once the two men picked up speed, both making sure you were okay but at the same time whispering absolute filth into your ears as you clenched around their lengths as if your life depended on it.

"f-fuckk! you both feel amazing!" grunts and groans alike fell from both their lips and you could've sworn you heard them both call each other daddy, leaving you to wonder what they did in the midnight hour before adding a woman into the mix. you were never one to judge but with you there it was three times the charm.

the moans became increasingly louder as they pounded into you relentlessly, you'd all probably end up with a noise complaint sooner or later.

"go ahead and cum babygirl.. we can feel how close you are." you felt the heat of the chicago native's breath up against your ear, "yes sir." the flood gates were open as you came around maxwell's cock and he released inside of you while phil did the same. the three of you continued to ride out the high but you were the most worn out.

phil was the first to pull out as cum dripped from his tip all the way down from your asshole, "i was 'gonna save this for later but.. you should open it now." he handed you a small black box wrapped with a gold bow, the contents inside being a butt-plug.

your eyes went wide as you looked over at the chicago native, "what am i supposed to do with this?"

"think y'know.. sweetheart.. want you to sleep with it in as a reminder who owns that ass." he smirked and took the plug from your hand before inserting it inside your body.

"y-yes sir, thank you for the gift daddy." you placed a kiss to the chicago native's lips which he then returned and nipped at your lower lip, leaving you to want more.

maxwell had been keeping you warm in a way with his cock as you felt him continue to twitch inside you, a whine falling from your lips when he pulled out aswell.

"don't worry baby. there is much more where that came from." maxwell revealed a brown gift bag with the words burberry inscribed on the outside.

you sat back on the couch, still panting a bit while opening the gift from max which was a matching set of burberry lingerie in just your size, on the side was a pair of angel ears.

pouting you looked between the two men and they each furrowed their eyebrows, "what's wrong, baby?"

"just wanted something to keep this cum inside me. love being full of both my daddies icing like a cake." you grinned up at them as phil had something hid behind his back, a matching plug to the one gifted, "you're in luck."

yawning, the night activities started to take a toll on you so you got dressed in the lingerie which would surely be torn apart by morning and you kept the chicago native's gifts quite warm aswell.

once returning from the washroom, maxwell and phil were in their boxers and you cuddled up between them on the sofa before shutting your eyes as they each placed a kiss to your cheek.

"how was your birthday?" maxwell asked as you rested against his shoulder and you scratched the chicago native's beard softly, noticing him start to drift off toward slumber with your loving touch.

"best birthday ever. thank you both so much. now get some sleep, knuckleheads."

phil slapped your ass playfully in response, "goodnight, babygirl."

[mamayan]

Hello ml✨ CONGRATS

I'm dumb asf because I didn't understand the Russian Roulette thingy for a good minute but I wanna request Shota w these numbers-(I hope to God I'm doing this right)

20, 37, 59, 68, 97

Uhhh fem reader- pop off✨

Bang! … No bullet was shot—

Shota Aizawa

“You’re pathetic, you know that right?” || Sleep || Nightmares when sick || Step!Parent

tw: NSFW • Implied Cheating • Fem! Reader (18+) • Fingering (F) • Taboo Considered Relations • Use of the term Daddy

wc: 790

He’s alone again.

The right side of the bed is empty, not even a warm hint of his wife having returned home from work. She’s working late again, though Shota felt a roiling in his gut telling him it wasn’t work she was staying out so late for.

She’d been distant, though that wasn’t too shocking considering their relationship was hanging by a thread.

He couldn’t leave though. Not if it meant he’d lose something even more precious.

You, who he already noticed was creeping into the room, light sleep set hiding hardly any of your body from his dark gaze as he tiredly sighs aloud. Like a sweet dream you appear by the side of the bed, crawling onto the mattress like a predator on the prowl. Sweet features illuminated by the moon, you smiled down at him.

“I can’t sleep Daddy…” you were too old to be calling him that, and the way it made his cock harden beneath the comforter only confirmed how inappropriate this all was. He didn’t stop you though, not when you revealed more smooth soft skin for him as you tossed your top somewhere into the darkness, breasts free of any bra to hinder them from his view.

“Fuck,” it’s impossible not to lose it as you straddle him over the covers, bottoms still in place as you plant your hands against his chest.

Shota isn’t a man who allows a brat like you to get away with whatever, no matter how cutely you act.

The retired-pro hero has you beneath him in an instant, shirtless torso draping over you as his dark hair falls to curtain over your faces.

“You can’t sleep so you make sure I can’t either?” He’s not angry despite his words, easily slotting between your thighs as he nips your bottom lip. He doesn’t miss how you shiver and arch for him, he grunts as your cunt shifts to grind up against his hardened length still tucked away in his boxers.

The little smirk on your lips is irritating, but your next words light a spark.

“You’re pathetic, you know that right?” The way your chest presses against his own as you breathe the insult against his mouth makes him groan, able to taste the sugar on your lips from whatever late night snack or drink you’d been consuming. “Getting hard for your step-daughter is just—ngh,” you’re stopped short when he grabs your throat, his smile dark and promising as he copies your earlier actions and speaks right up against your mouth, not quite kissing you. “Is just what, hm?” He grinds harder against you, smearing the slick in your panties as you moan, hands quick to tangle in his thick loose hair. “Remember you’re in my bed brat,” he chuckles at your responding whine.

“I can’t sleep,” you say it again as if it was his problem to solve.

Maybe it was, since he doesn’t hesitate to slip a calloused scared hand right into your cute sleep shorts and easily locate your puffy clit to rub. He watches your eyes roll back, the quick access to pleasure and pressure you were eager for granted without much of a fight tonight.

He was eager for touch too, hands grasping and groping in the minimal light, lips quick to connect with yours in a sensual embrace, tongue slipping in without resistance as you whimper beneath him.

“Daddy I need more—,” he groans, thumb moving off your clit to dig two inside your tight heat, stretching you open and doing quite the opposite of helping you sleep.

“Be quiet, you’ll disturb the neighbors,” he chides lightly, lips trailing to your neck where he’s tempted to mark you up. He doesn’t, only licks and nibbles too soft for any capillaries to burst are littered on your sensitive skin.

“I want your cock,” it’s needy and desperate as you writhe, hips unable to still as he works his fingers inside of you, curling in your gooey walls and making you see white as your orgasm builds.

“You want to act like a brat, be good and cum on my fingers first.” His gruff tone leaves no room for argument, though you might’ve managed had he not had you so close to your end.

His lips silence the cry you release as your core tightens, body wracked with tremors as you come apart for him.

A noisy squelch echoes as he drags his messy fingers from your bottoms, holding them in front of your face with a dark brow raised above sleepy eyes.

“Thank you Daddy…” it sends chills down his spine at your sweet whisper, eager and happy to clean your own cum off his fingers while watches with a hungry gaze.

Post dividers/@cafekitsune

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Day 4 -- Rotface

The (nsfw) details for Kinktober, Day 4 are just below the cut!

Minors, please don’t interact.

Prostitution with Rotface x F!Six

GOODNESS I've waited so long to post something with Rotface 😩 He was like Gob 2.0 for me when I played New Vegas for the first time, just like... INSTANT love for him, ugh ❤️

This one I thought was pretty darn sweet, and a little glimpse into his life on that street corner where Six meets him.

I hope you like it!

Here is the link to my  Kinktober 2023 Event List so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: Prostitution, drinking (alcohol lol), cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, dry humping, pining, hopes and dreams.

Words: 4.5k

--

Rotface lounged against his dusty curb like it was an elegant chaise, his body sinking lower and lower down throughout the long, hot day. The coolness of the air was refreshing as the sun bowed its head over the sand in the distance. Patrons, Freeside goers, and tourists alike had all hidden away in their homes or gone off to gamble and sin for the remainder of the night. 

But the ghoul had waited in silence, one ruined finger brushing over the neck of some cheap bottle of liquor he’d managed to get his hands on. Some whiskey, or bourbon maybe. Perhaps even rum gone a little bit… off. He didn’t know or care much, his stomach and tongue were impartial, but his head… Oh, his head needed it if he was to make it through another interaction with his favorite patron to date. 

And, like he'd called her over with nothing but the mere thought, over she came. It was unmistakable, the telltale click of her shoes on the pavement, the pacing of her steps, unhurried, but anything but relaxed. Even before Six rounded the corner, Rotface could catch her scent wafting on the light breeze: cheap perfume, cigarette smoke, and gunpowder. Always a hint of it, no matter what she wished to mask it with. 

It embarrassed him to even think it, but her scent was one he wished he could wrap himself in, like some strange desert creature burying itself in the sand for shelter from the elements, he wanted it to envelop him. 

Need to get over this shit. Hopefully the drink’ll help. 

“Hey, you. Fancy meeting ya ‘round these parts.” Six’s voice broke him from his thoughts, and he looked up at her, gazing wide-eyed, as if he was seeing her for the first time. 

Damn, how it always feels that way. 

Like a bullet to the chest from some Freeside thug, her visage hit him hard.

As per usual, Six was only partially clothed, in some bra-type, cropped shirt thing that only complimented the natural shapely curve of her body, her stomach was left bare, showcasing the smoothness of her skin, making it clear to him again why he’d spent so many hours daydreaming about laying his head upon her for a nap, her plush lap or stomach immeasurably preferable to the curb he usually called his pillow. Her skirt left even less to the imagination, especially from his angle looking up from the floor. Though, no matter what the angle was, the garment was made up of hardly any fabric at all, showcasing Six’s thighs and hips alike, both of which were frequent attendees in his daydreams as well. 

Rotface almost openly sighed as he saw her. Though it was nearly a nightly ritual these days, she still managed to draw his street-sharp mind into a tight bundle of fanciful nonsense. 

“Nice to see ya, Six.” Rotface managed to rasp out finally, pulling his gaze reluctantly from where it was tied to her form, her face, those eyes.

Suppose it doesn’t matter if I’m actually lookin’ or not. Always see her anyhow. Remember her face better than I do my own these days.

And that ain’t no bad thing. 

“Whatcha got there? Something to share, I hope.” 

“Nah, wouldn’t dream of it. Already had my fill, rest is for you, dolly.” 

“O-ho, what a gentleman you are.” Her smile shot straight into him, like a searing beam of light, right through his chest as she reached down for the bottle in his hand. No flinching away, no mildly disgusted look, no light, hesitant fingers as she brushed her hand with his in the transfer of the bottle from his possession to hers. 

“Wish I could take a seat beside you, but… Yeah, gotta stay visible.” She winked at him as she said it, but tipped the bottle back for a long swig a moment later, without even bothering to glance at the label. 

Didn’t seem to matter to her either. 

“It is still your corner though.” Six wiped delicately at her lipstick-framed mouth as she lowered the bottle down. “No matter who stands at it, they still know it as yours. So, if I’m ever intruding–”

“No way, doll.” He said, almost too quickly. “What’s yours is mine.” 

Rotface gestured to the bottle then, a soft expression adorning his face as he looked up at her. 

God, it must be obvious. Way I ogle her, night in and out. Maybe the drink wasn’t the best thought I’ve had… me a lil tipsy, her on her way… Could say something I regret. 

And she could actually hear it now. Not like my daydreams.

“You know, this street corner ain’t the only thing we got in common, I think.” 

Six raised a brow at him questioningly, but nodded a moment later with an odd sort of look upon her face. Another swig of the bottle, and then: 

“Hm. You’re right. Must be… Our fashion sense?” 

His laugh was much too raucous for the little quip she made, but dammit, the ghoul couldn’t help himself. 

Here I am, trying for once to be genuine, and then… 

Oh, but how could he ever be mad?

“Well, you do know how much I enjoy lounging on my curb here in the nude. Or in my leather panties. Heh.” 

Six giggled herself this time, and he felt proud to have inspired such a lovely refrain. 

“Nah, but, in all seriousness, I think… Well, we’re both one of the real people out here, you know? The ones out here trying to survive, yeah, but you’re not an asshole.” 

“Gee, thanks.”

He could’ve slapped himself for ending that sentence prematurely… and with no obvious tracks for it to go down in the highway of his drink-addled mind. 

Trying to speak from your heart is like engaging in an interview while under fire. Hearing the questions, formulating answers, wording them, all while remaining breathless and panicked. Scared for your life, even. 

“No, no... sorry, buzz is gettin’ to me a bit. But you’re just– hell, maybe we don’t even have it in common, I don’t know, but you’re one hell of a person, is what I was getting at. In some fuck-all roundabout way." He rubbed the bridge of his would-be nose, grinding his teeth as his confession only seemed to worsen.

"Just... Six, you doing all that shit for the NCR, for Freeside, The Wrangler, and all those ungrateful, privileged asshats in the strip, and look at you, still out here working street corners for scraps. You should have a fucking penthouse by now, you know? Be one of them fancy ladies with the jewelry and the colorful skirts and dresses. ‘S what you deserve, Six, that’s all.” 

“Glad you feel that way.” Finally relenting to the call of it, Six plopped down beside him, and Rotface felt his heart stutter as her hand brushed his bicep, giving him an affectionate little squeeze as she turned to him. “Nobody else seems to care, so you know… I suppose I’ll just keep... doing it, since I can’t sit by like the rest of those, ahem, asshats, as you put it so nicely.” 

He broke into a laugh alongside her, feeding off the warmth of her smile and wishing like hell he could see it a thousand more times in his life. 

“I couldn’t live with myself if I saw everything that’s going on around here and… didn’t help.” 

Six handed him back the bottle, nearly empty as it was, but with one last, decent gulp left. With a slow hand, careful not to dislodge the one she still had placed upon his arm, he reached out for it. 

“And… I guess I’ll just keep doing this,” Six gestured down to her scant outfit with unenthused fingers, “Until I can afford not to. However long that takes.” 

A pessimistic scoff finished her sentence for her, and Rotface felt his hand gripping the neck of the alcohol bottle so hard it might shatter. And he wouldn’t blame it. If it were possible for him to do the same in this moment, he just might've. 

Even as Rotface's grip loosened on the glass, his jaw stayed tightly clenched. He… had no idea she was that desperate. Some part of him assumed this was-- well, a job, yes-- but maybe she’d enjoyed it? Six always seemed so free, so good-humored, even in the worst of times, even when she showed up on their street corner with bags under her eyes, with bruises and scrapes he wouldn’t let himself imagine the origin of; she still was happy to see him, still made fun and light of their horrid, ruined world right alongside him… Maybe that’s what they really had in common. 

Now that he knew though, now that her dejected voice, her listless mannerisms, the dullness in her eyes confirmed that she hated doing this shit more than he could’ve imagined, more than he hated baking in the sun waiting for a more successful, luckier man’s pocket change to fall into his roughened hands day-in and day-out for ten or so odd years, well... He couldn't just stand by anymore. Not like he has for so damn long. With all she's done in that time, even after being fucking shot? It made Rotface feel like a pretty awful person.

To think too, after all that, all his years of this shit, and how little he's collected in his time on the street corner... 

Another shitty thing we have in common, I guess. If the world decides not to change, we’ll both be doing this forever. 

“Well…” Rotface started a thought out loud, his fingers already twiddling nervously at his imagined proposal. “You know, I-I could start paying you.” 

He felt her body tense, felt her eyes on him, but he couldn’t dare meet her gaze. 

“J-just for this, you know.” He added quickly, “The pleasure of your company here on the corner. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t improve my evenings, having you here with me. But, since I’m taking up your time and all…” 

“I could never accept money from you, R.” 

He smiled at that, her tender voice, her sweet nickname for him. 

“You want to know something?" She continued, her fingers twiddling distractedly over the skin of his arm. "I could stand on any street corner in Freeside. In fact, between you and me, this one really isn’t the best for business, but… Well, I enjoy the pleasure of your company too. And I couldn’t dream of asking you to pay for it.” 

Another comforting squeeze radiated warmth from her grip over him, and Rotface finally gained the courage to set his eyes upon her face.

“No..." A soft, slight smile touched her vibrant lips as she looked right back at him, "We’re in this together, old friend.” 

“If you say so." Rotface's own rough hand, pausing only briefly on its brave journey, now laid overtop hers, giving Six a comforting little embrace of his own. "But... If that’s the case, then… Say I did pay you for a night. A night we don't spend on this street corner, lovely as it is. A-and not anything, ah, promiscuous," He added quickly, "Just… you know. A night. Do dinner or something.” 

“Dinner?” Her brow quirked up on her forehead and her eyes narrowed with mischief. 

She must be onto me. No doubt she is… 

But she keeps playing along. So, that’s gotta be a good sign, right?

“Well, we just shared a nice drink, some good conversation… You wanna just skip dinner?” 

He was wide-eyed at what she suggested, what he thought she might be suggesting.

Could it be?

Nah... Too good to be true, that's what that is. Shit doesn't work out for me that way, not Rotface the poor street-corner ghoul. Not with Six. No way.

And yet, in that moment, her hand turned quickly, taking his in her grasp, and before he could fathom any single bit of it, she hauled him up and the pair set off quickly towards The Wrangler. He was comically giddy the whole way there, all teeth-baring grins and school-child giggles as she tugged him along behind her. 

He didn't understand, but even more so, Rotface couldn't bare to question it.

Sure, the pair got some inquisitive looks on the way and in the bar, both of them well-known in this part of town, after all. The piss-poor ghoul beggar and the Wrangler prostitute who was a sucker for doing the right thing, the kind thing, getting a room together?

The looks all confirmed what he tried not to let himself believe. 

Even if it is pity she has for me… who am I to complain? To judge her? 

Nah, he couldn’t think one wrong thing about the gal beside him, in front of him now in the dim room, leaving even less to the imagination, as she let her skirt flit down to the carpeted motel room floor. 

Six stepped out of the garment like she was trying to seduce him. As if she hadn’t already, from the moment he laid eyes on her. 

“You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve seen." His rough voice sounded in the dim of the room as his eyes stayed locked to her mesmerizing form, "All my years, dolly, and it’s not even a competition.” 

Rotface couldn’t tear his gaze away from her, not for anything, as she approached where he sat on the creaky, ages-old box spring. The bed dipped from her movements as she crawled up and between his legs, running her hands down over the smooth fabric of his worn shirt until they reached the bottom hem. 

His own hands, rough as they were, gently stopped her movement. 

“Not sure you wanna do that, doll. Might just ruin the moment.” 

Six shook her head, her brows drawn together in sympathy as one soft hand brushed over the side of his face. Her touch was so tender, her expression so kind, yet… so wanting. It made his heart throb and race all at once. 

“It won’t.” Her voice was the firmest he’d heard it. “R… I want this bad as you do. Honest.” 

He blinked, and in the smallest split of seconds, Six's lips were against his. Like an old reel of film, his mind raced and churned behind the scenes, the chaos behind the beautiful picture up on the screen.

She was loud as a symphony, vibrant as a painting, with her passions. A pessimistic part of him whispered that it was practice, it was work, but a louder part shouted, ‘this is happening!’ 

Because that’s what mattered. 

Six was here, with him. She said she wanted this, she followed it up with actions that had him in a frenzy, that had him questioning his sanity, and the life expectancy of ghouls once they go feral. 

His mind scrambled like this, the heat coursing through him, the kiss felt like it was sending him into a metamorphosis. 

Rotface wanted so badly to think, to respond, to ask a million questions and make a million remarks about his many faults to her. As much as he wanted this– more than anything he could remember pleading for in his life, and just… well, look at him, he had plenty he could've wished for in place of this, and yet, it was true. More than anything, he wanted this with her. And he was as afraid of it as he was enthused by it. 

None of that mattered though. Nothing did, but Six. 

Rotface ran his hands over her bare skin, hungry to feel every inch of her, to soothe every hint of pain, every cause of stress in her life, his lips pressed against hers, caressing her softness, like the sun hugs the mountaintops and bathes them in orange, pink and violet. 

It only became more explosive, as he felt himself sink back into the mattress, as she laid her body over his, and he finally allowed her fingers to haul his raggedy t-shirt off over his head. Rotface gazed up at her as they separated, so she could remove the shirt from him fully, feeling like he was trapped in one of his daydreams, only… this was so much sweeter. 

Even in the depths of his imagination, the ghoul never could have seen her like this. Looking at him this way. It was… utterly unimaginable, the affection he saw there. The attraction. 

Perhaps her eyesight is just poor, after the incident in the graveyard at point blank range. 

The sound of a zipper drew his eyes and thoughts downwards as she began to remove his battered jeans, pulling them off over his hips and taking his boxers with them in one movement. 

Rotface grunted as the hem of his pants caught on his erection, already straining up in the air from her words, the sight of her, her attentions. 

Just… Six. 

The liquor had worn off by now, and he could feel himself shaking slightly. Maybe from nerves, or anticipation, though… probably both. If Six noticed though, she didn’t say a word about it. 

“Hmm.” When his eyes snapped back up to her, watching her take in the sight of his gnarled flesh, his bony body, he expected any number of horrid, barely-held back reactions. 

But she just… Smiled. With tears in her eyes, her gaze met his. 

“I don’t know why you ghouls are so cruel to yourselves. You in particular.” She said as she began to crawl up his body, a hand on either side of him, hovering, until she could lay over him. Her breasts prodded his chest as she settled overtop of him, her stomach cushioning his sensitive erection lovingly between their bodies. “You’re no different than any other man.” 

“Gee, thanks.” He said with a breathless attempt at a laugh. 

“No,” Six giggled, letting her head hang for a moment, her hair curtaining her face so charmingly as her eyes crinkled. “I just mean… You’ve got scars, sure, but… we all do.” 

One hand grasped with his, and Six pressed his fingers to the concealed divots in her forehead. He swallowed hard, as he felt the depth of them. 

How lucky I am to be here… With her.

“It doesn’t make you worth any less. No matter what anyone says.” Six pulled his hand to her mouth then, one finger drawing a line over a particularly rigid scar on his wrist before her lips followed suit softly. 

“Doesn’t make you any less beautiful.” 

Rotface had to blink to keep the unwelcome mist at bay from seeping into his eyes. 

What did I do to deserve her? This? 

Just last night we were still only friends, something like this was a distant, unachievable dream. 

Now, he never wanted it to end. 

“Well, doll, you are the authority on all that’s beautiful.” 

“Sweet ghoul.” Six's fingers ran over his bald head in an affectionate caress, and then his lips were back on her. Rotface initiated this time, pushing into her and wrapping his arms tightly around her body until he could flip them on the bed, positioning himself on top. 

His cock twitched as her hips bucked up into him, the swell of her pelvic bone grinding against the underside of his cockhead until he felt himself drooling pre-cum out onto her skin. 

Damn, but she knows what she’s doing. 

“Fuck, alright–” Rotface pulled back from her lips, separating their bodies enough to alleviate the pressure on his erection. “I’ve gotta taste you, doll. That alright?” 

Enthusiastically, and with a bit of surprise written on her face, Six nodded, and he felt that giddiness encapsulate him again. The older ghoul felt like a boy on pre-war Christmas, pulling her legs undone like a bow until her thighs were draped over his rough shoulders. His sense of smell and taste both weren’t what they used to be, but even so, his mouth watered at the sight of her folds; dark and glistening, maybe just with his pre-cum where he'd rubbed on her briefly, but he’d like to think some of it was her own excitement as well. 

As Rotface took his first languid lick, right through the middle of her lower lips and up to drag over her clit, it was confirmed. She wasn’t just glistening a bit, Six was wet. 

For me? Damn, maybe she really is telling the truth about her feelings… 

Grinning, and with a hint of an uncharacteristically smug expression upon his ruined face, Rotface set to work on her.

One hand laid over Six's lower stomach, and his thumb pressed to that sensitive button that made her shudder in slow, teasing circles as he delighted in the sweetness within her folds. He may have been shy about confessing his wants to her, his own feelings, but his tongue showed no such coyness as it explored her so thoroughly. 

Once that first taste hit his welcoming tastebuds, Rotface began lapping at her feverishly, like a starving wasteland dog, until he could hear her breathy moans escaping audibly from above. Chancing a glance, the ghoul hauled his eyes open to take in her expression, and felt himself give an involuntary buck of his hips against the rough-hewn sheet upon the mattress below him at the sight that welcomed him. 

I made her look like that.

He marveled silently, feasting with his eyes as much as he was with his wanton mouth as he poured his attentions out onto her. Six's brows were drawn together from his efforts, her lips half-parted, her lipstick smeared messily against one cheek, her hair like a woven crown, all in tangles around her head. No detail of hers failed to captivate him, even as Rotface continued his hungry mouthing, his thumb’s circling over her clit, growing firmer and faster, just as his hips moved more frantically over the mattress, grinding his cock into the sheets like he was already inside her. 

Six’s eyelashes fluttered, as she took in his humble visage in turn, and his heart soared to see the way she smiled. 

“Didn’t know you had this in you, R.” She spoke, breathless, her voice damn near rough as his own. 

He only growled in response, tearing his eyes from her face to look down upon his labors. Her clit was standing tall against his movement over it, and her lips were becoming darker, more swollen, more slippery. His tongue glided easily around her folds, navigating them as masterfully as he did the streets of Freeside, and pressed periodically up to that sensitive button, giving it teasing licks and kisses that left her writhing beneath the pressure of his arms. 

“Think I’m wet enough for you now, R.” 

Rotface felt a pat upon his head as her voice reached down to where he was buried between her legs, but he didn’t budge. A groan acted as his rebuttal as his attentions hastened. His actions were better than explanatory words anyway. 

“Fuck, okay.” Six giggled out, and her sheer arousal was plain in the way the words left her. A moan trailed shortly after, as Rotface set his rough lips against her clit, and sucked like honey would pour from the spot. And well, it really sort of would, wouldn’t it?

Though, there was one difference. 

Six was much sweeter. 

The ghoul’s eyes rolled back in his head, his grip on her thigh and stomach tightened, he felt his cock give a painful throb from where he was neglecting it, and his hips picked up their pace into the mattress. 

In that moment, he was completely surrounded by her. 

Her moans and breaths were all that entered his ears, her smooth skin all he felt, her musky, succulent juices all he could taste, the colors of her passion, all he could see behind his closed eyelids. In that moment, she was his whole world. 

And what a glorious world it is. 

Six was close now, so close he could feel the way her clit pulsed against his tongue. He smiled into her at the feeling, lowering one hand between her thighs as his lips stayed anchored to her sensitive, swollen nub. Rough, calloused fingers dragged through her plentiful wetness, before two of them tested her entrance, finding it pliant and wanting for him. For this. 

The digits plunged inside without any additional warning, instantly curling against her hot, tender walls and making her release a shout of pleasure that had his throbbing member ready to burst at the seams. 

A few well-placed rubs of his textured fingers against her clenching walls, and one last drag of his tongue over her swollen pleasure point, and Six was crying out her nickname for him into the still, stuffy air of the motel room. Rotface didn’t cease though, his fingers pulsed inside her gently, coaxing her orgasm to last as long as possible, helping her through it as he drank in her spilling essence with his whole mouth. 

Rotface found himself growing almost as loud as she was, with his sloppy groans and the great buildup of pressure in his aching, straining cock, until that too burst out without much warning. The ghoul spurted his seed into the sheets below, humping into the mattress needily as he continued to nurse on her clit, even as Six began to buck away from him in her oversensitivity. 

Finally, with a light push of her hand over his forehead, Rotface tore himself from her. His chin and hollow nose were dripping with her as he caught his breath, he could feel his thighs shaking from the force of his own release, which was still sending small aftershocks through his fatigued body as his cock leaked the last of what it had to offer onto the bed between Six’s legs. And Six... at that moment, she–

--

“R?” A loud snap sounded in his ears, and suddenly, tragically, Rotface was seated back on his curb, his mind swimming and his body aching as his thoughts raced circles around his mind. “Honey, are you okay? You were tryin’ to say something.”

“I– I was?”

“Yeah, you were gonna tell me what else we had in common? Besides fashion sense and this curb, and then you just… went all radio silence on me. You feelin’ alright?” 

Six’s hand pressed down to his forehead, and her touch sent a shock through him. 

Fuck… Another goddamn daydream. And… so real.

Stupid fucking drink. 

He glared at the bottle in Six’s hand as she sat down next to him. 

“You do feel a little warm. You wanna just take it easy tonight? I don’t have to take clients, maybe we could… I don’t know.” She laughed as she trailed off, and Rotface felt his heart renew its frantic pounding once again. 

With one sentence, one confession, one request, I could maybe, maybe, make that dream of mine a reality. 

Rotface took a breath as he felt her eyes on him, trying not to pay her gaze too much mind, as he began his confession. 

For real, this time. 

[budgiesunset]

Hi can you write a harriet the maze runner x fem reader please maybe with an idea of (your the only girl in group A and then a wall opens and group A and group B gets connected and then you start a relation ship with harriet) that was just a suggestion you can write about anything love its okay if not and definitely don't feel pressured to make one xx💕💕😘😊💗❤️

AN: GUESS WHOS BACK! After a few months and my birthday I have returned. Hope you like this story Anonymous and I did decide to change a few things about the plot but I hope you still enjoy and sorry for the delay

Shot || Harriet x Fem!Reader

•Warning’s• blood, guns, gunshot wound (not fatal), the flare, slight swearing, probably incorrect medical information, part where reader is in bra but it’s not descriptive, angst if you squint, not edited or proof read •Summary• After escaping the maze and the scorch you find yourself getting shot and falling for Harriet while she patches up your injury

You had just escaped WCKED and again now setting off with Jorge, Brenda, Aris and what was left of the gladers on a mission to find the right arm and to get to the safe haven.

‘We’re so close’ you thought as you got out of the car that had gotten you almost the entire way. The road was blocked by a bunch of abandoned cars several of them had been trashed

‘probably from when this all started and people were looking for supplies or ways to get out’. The thought came to you as you looked through a cracked window of an old truck.

First you heard it. It was loud and clearly a gunshot then suddenly felt a hot pinch in your arm. You felt yourself being pulled to the ground in your daze you turned around seeing Frypan looking at you concerned.

“Keep pressure on your arm” he said as he moved your un-injured arm so the you could replace his hand on your wound.

Everything happened so fast and the next thing you know your being pulled up from the ground by someone you definitely didn’t know.

She was wearing a mask and had a rifle. But she had dark brown eyes. Brown almost black hair that she had styled in twist and she had tanned skin even though you couldn’t see her face you felt like you could trust her.

After a very confusing interaction between Aris a girl named Sonya and the girl who pulled you off the ground who you learnt to be called Harriet. They agreed to take you to the Right arm.

Along the way you found yourself walking next Harriet. “How’s your arm” She questions.

“It’s okay I guess for being shot.. Hurts like hell though” you say as you lift your hand off of the injury to look at it but quickly placing it back and applying more pressure as blood starts to leak out again.

“When we arrive we can get it looked at and bandaged up.” She said looking at you then quickly looking straight again.

“Yeah that sounds good” you say. The rest of the trip was silent.

[Time Skip]

You were sitting in the med tent when Harriet entered.

“Docs busy with your friend but luckily for you I know how to fix up a gun injury.. Do you need help to remove your shirt?” she says as she lets out a breathy laugh. You just nod as she carefully removes your shirt leaving you in your bra. She then sits down on a stool using a cloth to clean around the wound.

“This is going to hurt” she says while holding a pair of tweezers so they were just hovering over the hole using her other hand to stretch out the skin. Then carefully she pulls out the bullet.

“Fuck” you mumble squeezing your eyes closed. Harriet them starts to bandage the wound on your upper arm.

“Wait here I’ll go get you a clean shirt.” She says before exiting the tent. She returns a few minutes later with a cream colored long sleeve shirt. “Here” she says holding it out to you.

“would you mind helping me?” You say looking up at her from this angle you could see just how beautiful she is, how her skin glows as she nods and how her hair falls in her face as she leans over you to help you pull the shirt on.

Her touch is warm and as she stands up you find yourself missing her warmth you both stare into each others eyes until the silence is broken.

“Dinners ready” you look over to the door of the tent to see Aris standing there looking at you both confused.

Harriet helps you stand up and guide you to a small log next to a campfire she tells you to sit before walking off and returning a few minutes later with two bowls of hot soup.

She hands you one and then sit’s down next to you and you both talk for hours. Then suddenly you hear a loud buzzing then you see a beam of light and feel a gush of wind.

Harriet acts fast grabbing her rifle then your hand and pulling you behind her as she yells out orders left and right.

You’re suddenly behind a car and all you can hear is gunshots, explosions and yelling. You cover your ears curling your knees up to your chest hiding your face in them.

Not even a minute later you feel yourself get violently yanked from the ground and then you feel it. A gun placed at your temple.

“Put your weapon down or else she dies!” The soldier yells. You start shaking your head left and right tears welling in your eyes as the barrel of the gun get pushed even closer to your temple forcing you to move your head on a diagonal so that your left ear is almost at your shoulder.

Harriet looks into your eyes before throwing her gun to the floor not even two seconds later she is being grabbed and pulled to a line up you not too far behind.

Your head gets pushed forwards and then the soldier calls out “A45” and then moves onto the next one.

You flinch when you feel something grab your hand but quickly relax when you look over and see Harriet holding onto your hand.

“It’s going to be okay.. I won’t let them hurt you” she whispers so that only you and her could hear.

[Time Skip]

After everything happened and the WCKED soldiers left taking almost half of what was left of the right arm you curled up next Harriet as she rested up against a large rock.

Your head rested on her shoulder and her arms wrapped around your waist in a protective manner as if she was scared that if she let go you would end up in the hands of WCKED just like Sonya and Aris. So that night you fell asleep in the arms of Harriet where you felt safe.

The End

[your-divine-ribs]

Kinktober 🖤 Limit

"You brought all of this on yourself Y/N”

Words: 1.2k // Prof Van // overstimulation

Kinktober Masterlist Main Masterlist

🖤 "Don't get any ideas, you can see how busy I am and I don't have time for that today. Now I'm happy for you to study in here, but I can't have you distracting me... okay?"

🖤 You sigh, snapping your legs shut. You know you should behave yourself. You're in a privileged position being allowed to study in your Professor's office. Your final exam's next week and you've been struggling to find a quiet spot to work in so it was kind of him to offer. There's just one small problem...

🖤 You're horny as hell and it just so happens that riling up Van is your favourite pastime. Outwardly he's so composed and cool-headed and unruffled, the picture of professionalism... but you know better... you know the real man that lurks beneath that affable and carefully controlled demeanour and what's more, you know exactly how to lure him out.

🖤 "But Sir..." you whine, purposefully bratty, a tone that you know will grate on him. "I'm not really taking any of this in... I'm feeling kinda restless."

🖤 "Y/N..." is all he says, firm and final. A single word, but it's more than just your name, it's a clear message. A warning and a threat all rolled into one. You foolishly choose to ignore it... or maybe wisely depending on how you look at it.

🖤 "Think I need to like... I don't know... maybe burn off some energy or something. I'd probably be able to concentrate much better if I did." Your voice raises up at the end of the sentence, hopeful sounding, willing him to take the bait but he doesn't.

🖤 In fact he doesn't even look up from his paperwork. He's pretending to ignore you, pretending like your needy whining isn't affecting him, like he's not acutely aware of the way you're accentuating your movements, crossing and uncrossing your legs, flashing your underwear, trying to tempt him.

🖤 "And it's so damn hot in here too... phew!" You peel off your cardigan and fling it across a nearby chair and your dramatic movements make Van finally look up.

🖤 "What did I say? I've got a stack of assignments to grade and I've got deadlines to meet. I know exactly what you're trying to do and I'm not falling for it." You note the tension in his jaw, his eyes flashing dangerously. You just need to push him a little more.

🖤 "Jeez... no need to be so tense... it's not good for your blood pressure," you snigger, making a show of rolling your eyes. "Maybe it's you that needs to burn off some of that negative energy? I could help you with that you know..." You slip one of the straps of your dress off your shoulder, exposing your lacy bra.

🖤 "Fucks sake Y/N!" He growls, getting to his feet in a swift motion. "I've just about had enough of your silly games!" You look back at him, pulling down the other strap, a challenge in your eyes. "So... what are you going to do about it then?"

🖤 Ten minutes later you find out. He's handcuffed your hands behind your back and tied your ankles to the chair legs. He's slipped a small bullet vibrator into your panties, lodging it firmly in place so it rests tightly against your clit. You dread to think what other paraphernalia he might have stashed in his office drawers for 'special occasions'.

🖤 You pout defiantly at him even though you're in no position to fight back. "I'd hardly call this punishment," you mutter, already squirming in the chair as he takes his original seat back behind the desk and switches the vibrator on via a remote control app on his phone.

🖤 When he speaks his tone is dripping in sarcasm, the smirk on his lips wickedly sadistic. "We'll see. Maybe it'll help to burn off that negative energy you've been talking about. I'll give you some time to mull over what a bad girl you've been whilst I mark the rest of these assignments." He flicks through the pile on his desk. "Reckon it might take me about an hour..."

🖤 "But... but... you can't just leave me sitting... ahh... fuck... oh fuck..." Your words melt into curses as the vibe starts to shiver you through, it's only on a low setting for now but the maddening throb between your legs sends a blissful buzz throughout your whole body. Maybe this won't be so bad after all. You sigh gratefully as your first orgasm radiates through you, your head tipping back, eyes fluttered shut.

🖤 You smile smugly to yourself as you come down from your high. Van might not be the one pleasuring you but this is exactly what you wanted. You can feel your slick leaking out of you and drenching your panties through, your body throbbing with feverous desire. This isn't punishment... this is heaven.

🖤 But before long the sensations shift. Your tender clit starts to ache as the vibrations don't let up and the pleasurable hum morphs into a heightened pulse that's becoming too much to bear. You squirm in the chair, pulling on your restraints.

🖤 "Sir..." you gasp out but he cuts you off dead, head still bowed over his work as he mutters sternly. "Next time you come you're gonna have to do it quietly, it's very distracting. Don't make me regret not gagging you."

🖤 Despite your predicament there's something about his feigned indifference to your plight that wildly thrills you, the way his cool eyes raise up just in time to rake over your trembling frame as another orgasm hits, this one making you moan out loud despite your instructions to stay quiet.

🖤 "What did I tell you about being quiet?" He warns, sliding up the controls on the app to increase the steady pulse to a powerful buzz. It makes you quake, your teeth grinding together as you try unsuccessfully to hold in a pitiful sounding whine.

🖤 "Please Sir... I can't... I don't think I can take an hour of this. I'll be good... I'll be good... please..." You sob out a beg even though you know it's futile. Pleading with him has never gotten you anywhere before and you're not sure why you think it's going to make a difference this time.

🖤 "You can take it... I know you can," he instructs, leaning back in his chair to watch you. Despite his efforts to appear unbothered by the fucked out mess you're quickly becoming you detect the husky rasp in his voice, you note him shifting in his seat, pulling at the crotch of his skin-tight jeans under the desk.

🖤 You must have been quite a sight, beads of sweat dripping from your hairline, your overheated skin breaking out into a disgraceful scarlet flush. Your lips are blood red and swollen from being bitten as your body heaves with shudder after wracking shudder. Your eyes are glossy with tears.

🖤 "You brought all of this on yourself Y/N," he states matter-of-factly, eyes glowing with satisfaction. You know he's far from finished with you yet... and fuck... does that thought turn you on.

[watermelonsloth]

So... Sarada's Timeskip Design

First some positives:

The design works in both Haruno(choker, red) and Uchiha(earrings, black) elements. Even though they are few, I prefer it over the complete absence of both like we got in her last manga design

I like the somewhat unique choice in headband placement

The outfit is pretty fashionable and I can easily picture a teenager wearing it

Her earrings are a nice touch

Her haircut is really cute

Now the negatives(oh god are there negatives). I can't shorten this to simple bullet points so I hope you like the paragraph format. First, the obvious:

It Doesn't Look Practical In The Least

She's wearing big-ass heels, her leg warmers are loose enough to get caught under her feet, her shorts(the bottom half of her romper?) are short enough to give her a wedgie, she has pretty much no leg protection, the shuriken holster attached to her leg without bandages looks uncomfortable, the belt is completely useless, her jacket is baggy and unzipped and begging to fall off, her sleeves look like they'd get in the way during combat, her glasses feel noticeably fragile, and what woman in their right mind would wear a strapless bra into combat? (I can only let the last one slide because it's two men who're working on this manga) If not for the metal plate, shuriken holster, and open-toed shoes, I wouldn't even think she was a ninja(or from the Naruto franchise, for that matter). Lack of practicality doesn't tend to bother me since this is fantasy and every character wearing maximum practicality outfits would get boring, but Sarada looks like they didn't even make an attempt at making her look combat ready. Still, all of this would be fine if not for my next point.

This Doesn't Look Like Something Sarada Would Wear

If impracticality was in character or served a narrative purpose, it would be a point in the designs favor. Except, Sarada isn't the type of character to wear something so impractical. In the manga, she's the character that takes being a ninja the most seriously, she's one of the few with clear goals, and she's the resident team leader and smart one. What part of her design tells us any of that? Yes, manga Sarada is weirdly flirtatious. But that aspect of her personality already contradicts her otherwise disinterest in boys and romance, it doesn't mesh well with her portrayal in the anime(which is also supposed to be canon), it's already an inconsistent part of her personality, and there's already been so many complaints about it(even in Japan from what I can tell) that you'd think that Ikemoto wouldn't continue with it.

Why Does It Invoke So Much Akatsuki?

This might just be me, but I think the design has too many nods to the Akatsuki. The oversized jacket, the fabric around the bottom of her leg, and the black, red, and white/silver color scheme in similar ratios. I'm not saying you'll confuse her for an Akatsuki member by any means and there were certainly more things they could've done to make her resemble the Akatsuki if that was their goal. What I'm saying is that if I were trying to make nods towards the former villain organization in a character's design, I'd use similar design elements.

The worst part is that this was entirely avoidable. Even ignoring that they could've scrapped the more impractical aspects of her design to avoid this, her color palette didn't even have to be this way. Red isn't the only color that can invoke connections to Sakura; shades of pink, light green, and white are also colors of Sakura. Black isn't even the most common color that Uchiha's wear, shades of dark purple and blue are. Purples and blues would've also been a better nod to Sasuke. Maybe they wanted her to wear "Uchiha colors," but, once again, those aren't really Uchiha colors. Black is, but red has only appeared in Madara's armor, the sharingan, and the clan crest and white has also only appeared in the clan crest(I don't even remember an Uchiha that ever wore silver). If you wanna argue that Sarada's color is red, then I ask why wouldn't they just keep red as her primary color instead of making it an accent? Her last manga design had black and white as accents, I don't think keeping her color palette the same would've bothered anyone. I know that Kishimoto added black to Naruto's design to help make him look more mature, but Sarada's design doesn't invoke "mature" anyways and it certainly isn't a more mature version of her last design because, much like the majority of the two blue vortex designs, it looks nothing like her last design. It's even worse than when they started adding too much black to Naruto's design because now it reminds people(or at least me) of an organization that I doubt she's meant to be affiliated with. But who knows? Maybe like the metal plate of her headband being on an easily removeable jacket, this is all foreshadowing to something.

I don't blame anyone for thinking this is a nitpick, but it bothers me and I wanted to express it.

Conclusion

Sarada's design is the worst for the same reasons her last design was the worst plus it looking too much like she took inspiration from the Akatsuki's wardrobe. Forget needing a second draft, this design needs to be scrapped and replaced. Maybe the anime will find a way to fix it, maybe it won't. Only time will tell and it'll hopefully tell us good news.

(Side note: why is she constantly drawn with her feet pointed inwards? it makes her look insecure.)

[currentlyfckingurmom]

Beneath the Wreckage (part 2)

Yelena studied Arina as she moved about the room gathering supplies. Light brown hair; blue eyes; 5’5”, maybe 5’6”; thin, muscular build; and she moved like a graceful personification of death— her steps were elegant, but her moves were deadly.

Arina, on the other hand, was focused on the task at hand. She didn’t pay Yelena much mind. Even if Yelena tried to harm her, which Arina knew she wouldn’t, Arina was always the better fighter of the two. Yelena had yet to remember that, though.

Natasha was still passed out, except now she was lying flat on an old metal operating table. Arina had already hooked her up to an IV and dosed her with anesthesia. She had lost a lot of blood, but luckily, Arina and Natasha’s blood was compatible.

Arina drew a pint of her own blood and ran it through a small, portable filter that she had designed herself. The blood ran straight into Natasha’s veins after that, and Arina didn’t miss the look of disgust on Yelena’s face.

“Please do not throw up or pass out in here. If you get queasy from this kind of stuff, then leave, because I’m about to cut your sister’s abdomen open.”

“I’m not leaving you alone with my unconscious sister, I don’t even know you.”

Arina only quirked an eyebrow at that and said, “Fine, but put on a mask, gown, and gloves. This isn’t exactly a sterile environment, but anything helps.”

Yelena did as instructed and returned to her place at the side of the room. Arina cut away Natasha’s shirt, leaving her clad in a bra. She then put on a mask, gown, and gloves like Yelena and returned to Natasha’s side.

Arina disinfected Natasha’s stomach—all of the tools had been disinfected while waiting for the relatively weak anesthesia to kick in—and then picked up the scalpel. She took a deep breath and made a small incision across the wound so she’d have more room to work. She picked up the forceps and quickly pulled out the bullet. She repaired the internal damage and stitched up the incision.

Arina looked up for the first time in over forty minutes and saw Yelena’s face, which prompted a loud laugh from the brunette. Yelena was ghostly pale with wide eyes, and she looked like she was about to be sick.

“I thought you said you’d be fine,” Arina teased.

“Yeah, well, that was before you sliced open a human body.”

“Fair point.” Arina wrapped the incision in gauze and did a quick check of Natasha’s vitals.

Yelena and Arina took off their sterile coverings and Arina said, “I’ll be back in a little bit. You can stay in here with her or not, it’s up to you. She should wake up within the hour.” Yelena nodded but said nothing as she pulled up a chair and sat down next to Natasha.

Arina left the medical room and made her way to her quarters. The bunker was fairly large: a kitchen, two real bedrooms, additional bunkhouse-style sleeping quarters, two bathrooms, an area with a couple of old couches, and even a dining table. Of course, it also had a weapons room, security room, and a lab, because it was an old bunker from some deadbeat spy organization that collapsed in the 70s.

Arina went to the bathroom closest to her bedroom. Once inside, she shut the door and leaned over the sink. She turned on the cold water (the bunker didn’t have hot water) and splashed it on her face. She stared at her reflection in the old, cracked mirror, and she didn’t recognize the woman looking back at her. She closed her eyes and sighed, trying to keep herself calm.

Even though Natasha hadn’t woken up yet, this was the first time Arina had seen her since they were seventeen. A million memories came flooding back the moment she laid her eyes on the redheaded assassin. The first time they met, the first time they sparred, the first time they danced, and the last time they kissed.

Arina shook those thoughts from her head and opened her eyes, which immediately caught sight of the silver pendant hanging from her neck. A simple necklace with the letter ‘N’ on a thin chain. Arina had gotten herself and Natasha corresponding necklaces on Christmas when they were sixteen, and she hasn’t taken it off since. She doubted that Natasha still had her ‘A’ necklace; not that it mattered— not anymore.

A soft knock on the door disrupted her train of thought. Arina quickly dried her face and opened the door. Yelena was standing on the other side.

“Natasha is awake and asking a ton of questions, most of which I cannot answer, so come on,” she said before turning around and walking away, clearly expecting Arina to follow. Arina shook her head and followed the blonde. ‘She hasn’t changed a bit,’ she thought to herself as she walked. Somewhere deep down, she’s still that innocent 6-year-old girl, and that thought made Arina smile.

When they entered the medical room, Natasha was sitting up on the operating table, seemingly taking in her surroundings.

“What the hell are you doing?! You just had surgery, you’re going to pop your stitches,” Arina exclaimed as she rushed over to push Natasha back down onto the table.

“Arina,” Natasha breathed out in shock. Even though she knew she’d see Arina, there was no preparing her for this moment. They were now fairly close to each other, and Arina quickly removed her hands from Natasha’s shoulders and stepped back. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah, it has, I guess,” Arina said quietly.

“I wanted to find you, but you said-”

“I know what I said. That doesn’t matter now. Yelena said you have questions for me?”

“Oh, um...where are we? And what happened?”

“This is an abandoned bunker. It’s where I’ve been hiding out the past few years, and nobody else knows about it so it’s perfectly safe. You were shot, you passed out, Yelena and I brought you here, and then I operated on you. That’s pretty much it.”

“Right. And where were you before this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well you said that you’ve only been here for a few years, so where were you hiding before that?”

“Natasha, what are you talking about? You know exactly where I was.”

“What? No, you escaped when we were seventeen,” Natasha’s face contorted into disbelief, but the feeling of dread in her stomach ensured her that this was really happening.

“Uh, no, I definitely didn’t. What the hell did you think ‘I’ll never get out’ meant? Of the closet?”

“I don’t know, Arina! I thought maybe you got out of this life for good! That you’d settled down somewhere or something.”

“No you didn’t, Natasha. That’s just what you told yourself to make yourself feel better. Probably the same thing you did with Yelena, too.”

“Okay, sorry to interrupt, but what the fuck is going on here?” The other two women had honestly forgotten that Yelena was there, but now neither of them knew what to say. “Who are you really, Arina? How do you know Natasha?”

Arina sighed and looked down at her feet as she answered. “We grew up together. All three of us, Lena. You were young when we were closest, so you probably don’t remember that much of me.”

Yelena’s face was blank for a few seconds as she thought it over. All of the sudden her eyebrows shot up and she gasped. “Oh! I remember you! You had a really weird accent and we always called you Aria because when we first met, I didn’t know your real name so I called you that by mistake.”

“That’s me,” Arina said with a small smile. Natasha said nothing, staring at the ceiling from her place on the operating table.

“Where did you go? Everything was great and then one day it was like I didn’t even exist. You barely acknowledged my existence, and then eventually you disappeared completely,” Yelena said, not meeting Arina’s eyes. She seemed so small at that moment— almost like she was just a little kid again.

“It’s hard to explain, but you never stopped being like a little sister to me, Lena. I had to distance myself to protect you.” Yelena cleared her throat and whispered ‘right.’ It was quiet for a few moments before Natasha spoke up.

“Well this has been great and all, but this table is really uncomfortable.”

“Oh, right. We can move you to an actual bed,” Arina said, grateful for the heavy moment to have been broken.

Yelena and Arina helped Natasha to the other main bedroom and into the bed so she was leaning against the headboard. Arina was preparing to make her escape when Yelena said, “I’m gonna go. You two seem like you have a lot to talk about. Privately. Without me. Alone...in private.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively before practically fleeing from the room. Arina snorted a laugh at the younger woman while Natasha blushed furiously, wishing the bed would just swallow her whole.

“We probably should actually talk about everything,” Natasha said.

“Yeah, I know. But do either of us really want to? What��s done is done, no going back now.”

“I mean I guess, but you were still...there. This whole time. I thought you were free, Aria. I would’ve helped you. I would’ve done something.” Arina sat down on the edge of the bed as Natasha spoke.

“You did do something, Natasha. You became an Avenger; you saved lives. All I ever wanted was for you to get out of there and live the life you deserve, and you did. I’m not really mad at you for leaving, Talia. I never was. I just wish that one of us could’ve protected Lena. If anything, I was mad at the circumstances.”

It was quiet for several minutes before Natasha spoke, her voice so quiet that she was nearly whispering, almost as if she was afraid to disrupt the peaceful blanket of silence that had settled over the room. “I miss you calling me that. You’ve been calling me Natasha since I got here...It feels wrong.”

Arina hummed. “Well, it’s your name, so it shouldn’t feel wrong.”

“Yeah but that’s not my name to you. It never has been. When did I stop being ‘your Talia’?”

“I think we both know that answer to that question, and I don’t think either of us would enjoy hearing it out loud.”

“You’re probably right.”

“I’m gonna go throw some food together for dinner. There’s a walkie-talkie on the nightstand if you need anything. Seriously, you can’t be getting out of bed.”

“Yes ma'am, I understand.”

Arina rolled her eyes with a smile. “I’ll see you in a bit, Talia.”

“Don’t miss me too much, Aria.”

[sincebrooklyns]

👯‍♀️ the walker girls (your pick which set)

shout out to ryan and meredith's daughters but when you said walker and told me to pick which my immediate inclination was literally like oh some combination of landon and paige's and whichever two i chose to expand on was the "set" like omgggggg sorrryyyyyy cousins but there is indeed an elite trio.... just gonna try to like bullet point some things that are like known facts in my mind and see what sticks. might even return to this at a later date

alexis is very obviously hbic but i truly don't believe there's any like power imbalance she's just the oldest so she paves the way for the rest and like fortunately they have a hot mom who is self-assured so what we've got on our hands is a bunch of insanely pretty girls who are at least superficially self-confident and definitely girls' girls and a hot bitch that's leading the pack

they're insanely close, particularly alexis and vanna, and i don't see too much conflict between them besides like the occasional bad sister moment like give me my fucking top back you'll stretch it out and its literally bc they're a single cup size bigger but like only while wearing the most insanely padded push up bra

about alexis and vanna in particular, very just like comfortable and uninhibited with each other and themselves and their sexuality like always naked and chilling, won't shy away from being like fully nude and asking for a second opinion like i have cute nipples right? is my pubic hair long enough to nair? is my labia weird? and their social media posts do make people scratch their heads like tell me why these girls are all bare tanned limbs intertwined and kissing on the mouth and the answer is like they got alexis's employee pass for tanning beds and pecking isn't weird unless you make it bitch!!!!!!!!!

i sense some sort of like significant age gap with brooklyn its just my truth. even if its just like 8 yrs or whatever idk time is fake in rp but they call her baby b and even though she's like very clearly the black sheep they totally embrace her and her eccentricities and try to incorporate her into their entire dynamic it's just not her jam and they'll only lightly poke fun at her for changing behind a door or whatever

piggy backing on the above i don't know if i'm projecting or misinterpreting but i feel like vanna in particular has a soft spot for brooklyn and will engage with her more at her own speed like gossip about crushes or try to teach her how to kiss or whatever while alexis is more like omg eye rolling and shrill strippers vc you've got the ass and titties you call the shots like idk maybe brooklyn just texts vanna the things she's a little too shy to tell the sisters (+ paige?) gc

all of the above said, i think olive is their favorite cousin. they love them all (because again i really just think they're girls' girls and respect whatever a girlie has going on but olive fits in the most obviously). i think vanna and olive are very much the same in spirit so i think brooklyn connects with olive the most for that reason, but also thinks margot is the coolest and while ALL of the walker girls are going on the blunt walk on thanksgiving, brooklyn and margot are the only ones to stick around once the conversation gets weird. alexis and gideon don't have much in common beyond being the eldest in their respective families but i feel that they both recognize that they're the OGs and get along rly well for that reason

[moviestarmartini]

pilates princesses — jude bellingham x reader.

summary: jude cannot fathom spending a minute without you on his free day. even if he must wear a matching set to working out.

wc: 684

warnings: bulleted format, clingy!jude, nothing too crazy tbh just a lil fun

A/N: i literally had this idea while doing reformer pilates at like 6 am (i've been doing it for at least nine months) so enjoy my loves xx

during the rare instances Jude had free time he became impossibly clingy. 

in your shared slumber, he held you as if you were just going to bolt out the door any second. 

you still managed to slip out of his arms carefully to prepare for your pilates class, needless to say, he wasn't happy. 

“Where are you going? Are you abandoning me?” you heard the raspy voice as you exited the shared closet, fixing the bra straps of the matching set. 

“Baby, I told you last night I had my pilates class. I’ll be back around eight-thirty and we can have breakfast together, okay?” you cupped his face, pulling him down to place a kiss on his temple. 

but that wasn’t enough for him 

“I’m coming too,” he announced, heading towards the closet. 

seeing as he wouldn’t budge and started his morning routine, you called ahead to the studio and asked if there were any reformers left and to please excuse you for the lack of notice. 

they were accommodating as you were always nice and never late; overall a good and loyal customer. 

“This was supposed to be your rest day.” You complained softly as you started the car, your boyfriend hopping in the passenger seat 

you also then realized you were wearing the same color scheme, eliciting a soft giggle followed by a shake of the head

“It’s an active rest day, then. We’ll grab breakfast after this, right?” 

“You’re in this just for breakfast?” you laughed as you set motion towards the studio, the streets starting to fill up with people starting their day 

you knew he just wanted to spend every waking moment by your side 

the staff at the studio had always been the nicest, knowing you by name and asking how everything was as Jude filled out a form 

“Don’t be surprised if you’re the only guy here, maybe some other will show up.” you warned as you entered the studio, you were around five minutes early so they were a few reformers still left 

the instructor approached the two of you. he first greeted you before turning Jude, introducing himself and asking if he preferred english or spanish, though whatever he chose he would still speak both languages 

he explained the whole mechanism of the class, how the machine works and how everything must be done.

he also acknowledged Jude was strong (that was an understatement), so if something felt like light work, to call him up so he could up the resistance by adding another spring.  

Jude listened so carefully, his brows lightly furrowed as he thought and nodded along, and you found his willingness to learn very endearing 

everything started out fine with the warm-up exercises 

but when the video on the small screens above projected the exercise, you could hear Jude snickering.

“I’ve got to open my legs like that in the air? Just like you did last night? I see where you have learning those positions,” He asked you in a cocky half-whisper, noticing how you gave him a side eye but still laughed. 

“It looks like I’m going to receive it wide like Rashford.” You noticed him mutter under his breath, and you really had to pull yourself together and not burst out laughing resulting in losing your core balance right then and there. 

at one point it was surprising to see him struggle a little since he wasn’t the most flexible out there, but you knew it was a matter of development and getting used to the exercises 

“That was extremely fun.” He told the instructor after the class was done and everyone stretched. “I might bring my boys out here; it was really refreshing. Thanks mate, I appreciate it.” He was so educated and a proper gentleman it only warmed your heart further. 

“What are we having for breakfast? This pilates princess thing has me starving,” Jude yawned, stretching in the passenger seat. 

“Let’s go to our favorite! I’m dying for their overnight oats.” You beamed, catching how he texted his experience to the group chat with his teammates with a tiny smile on his face.

You were definitely joining them in that class.