#which. if he does actually pay for it (and he has no way of contacting me abt it bc i changed my number and he has a hardship license so he

[ndjams]

father ruining shit for me once again. i been on medicaid for the last almost 5 years but just recently got cut off. i have top surgery in THREE DAYS and my plan was to not get insurance until after bc im having it at a not for profit hospital i was gonna get on an out of pocket payment plan w them then file to have the medical debt erased but my mother in law ran into my father yesterday and said he has had me on his private insurance (for 5 years ?? and ive never used it ????) and one of the few times i ever said anything to him was in 2021 (twenty twenty ONE) i told him dude take me off ur health insurance its fucking w my medicaid (i couldnt get T for like 6 months) and he was like okay when open enrollment starts or whatever ill take u off. what the fuck im so unbelievably pissed. MIL also said he seemed like he was on meth or very drunk so. they met at aa so as u can imagine this was very jarring for her jtfo.

[lovelybucky1]

I think wade would be SUPER into sex toys, i can’t remember if it’s actually canon but I’m saying it is.

Anyways his favorite way to incorporate toys into sex is to cuff your hands to the headboard while he plays with your pussy with a vibrator. Also he’s so intrigued by how many kinds of vibrators exist and he’s down to trying them all out

it shouldn’t come as any surprise that wade wilson is fucking mean when it comes to sex. he’s cocky and a tease as it is, but when he has control of your pleasure, he becomes downright evil.

the two of you have collected numerous sex toys, but your favorites have to be your wide variety of vibratiors. big, small, powerful, weak, remote controlled, trusting, sucking, heating, cooling, you name it. you have them all, and they all get used pretty regularly.

every time you get a new one, you test it out in the same way. wade cuffs you to the headboard, which doesn’t do much to keep your body still, but it prevents you from trying to push him away when you’re overstimulated. you sit, propped up against the pillows with your legs spread to display your pussy to wade.

he starts off slow by manually warming you up. he fingers you a bit, strokes your clit, maybe uses his tongue to get you wetter. whatever he does, it won’t be enough to really feel good.

then he moves on to the toy of choice. he drags it up your legs, inside your thighs, over your stomach, chest, and sides until you’re begging him to pay your neglected cunt some attention. the first contact of the toy on your pussy always makes you jolt.

he plays with the settings, testing out the different speeds, patterns, and any other features it may have. he finds the one that makes you squirm and moan the most, and then he sticks to that one.

he brings you to the edge, then backs off entirely. he’s learned that he has to pull the toy away from you entirely, because even when the toy is off, you can still make yourself cum with it. he edges you like this until he thinks you deserve to finally cum.

wade isn’t entirely benevolent. once you cum once, he’ll push his dick inside your slicked up pussy and stay seated deep inside you to feel the vibrations of the toy for himself. he fucks you like that while the toy is wringing orgasm after orgasm out of you, overstimulating you and making you gush.

[hargreeves-duncan]

Can I request five x reader (takes place in s2) where reader (five’s partner) gets sent to Dallas around a year before five comes and after he does and reader sees him, she immediately tackles him on the spot and gives him many kisses. Maybe reader manages to work at a casino too

a/n: hi, thank you so much for your request! i haven’t written in a while so i'd love to hear your thoughts, enjoy!!

summary: it's been far too long since you've seen your boyfriend - he learns that the affectionate way.

warnings: reader works at a casino but there’s no actual gambling so🤷‍♀️

word count: 1.4k

You had to hand it to yourself, for someone who’d known next to nothing about life in the 1960s, you’d adapted pretty well. In no time at all, you’d managed to land yourself a job as a waitress in a casino. A very good one. It seemed in this timeline, Jack Ruby thought a casino would be a better investment than a night club - and for your part, you couldn’t say that he was wrong, nor could you complain.

The hours were long, but the pay was good enough and the other girls had taken you in as one of their own. You quickly began to excel. Strolling between the tables and flashing smiles was easy, second nature even. You developed the wit and charisma to charm the casino’s patrons without second thought, which meant you got more drinks served, more loyal customers and bigger tips to go along with them. 

Most nights the new life you’d built for yourself was more than enough but sometimes, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t help but yearn for what had come before - who had come before.

There was always a dull ache in your chest whenever you caught a fleeting glimpse of a lone, brown-haired man at one of the tables. In those moments, you could never stop yourself from believing for a slither of a second that Five had made it and he’d come right back to you.

You’d waited for him in that dingy, old alley for two weeks straight, because you knew that Five would never abandon his family like that. That something must’ve gone wrong, but it was okay because he’d come back and everything would be fine. That was what you told yourself. You were so sure he’d show up and solve everything in an instant, because that was what he always did. And when he hadn’t, it had almost destroyed you.

The first few months were gruelling, taking your first steps in the new world had taken a while. Grieving Five had taken longer. The obvious truth was staring you in the face. A year without contact from him or any of the other Hargreeves siblings? The probability was that you were the only one who had survived.

It was a truth that you were reluctant to admit, even now. One that led you to where you are today, starting yet another night shift, beside the casino’s bar, to serve a particularly rowdy Friday night crowd of patrons.

As you begin to set up, Mary-Anne, one of the other waitresses on shift, sidles up to you. Her honey-blonde curls bouncing around her ears as she leans against the bar. Trying to stifle her laugh, in her southern drawl, she says, “Has he tried talking to you yet?”

You raise an eyebrow at her, tilting your head to the side, “Has who tried talking to me yet?”

Her grin grows wider as she gestures to a table on the far corner of the room, laughing, “That little boy. Haven’t I said a million times that we oughta get tighter on the security in this place?”

She sighs, resting her hands on her hips, “I went over to him - trying to tell him that we don’t allow minors in here - and what’d he do?”

Deciding to humour her, you smile, looking down at her, “I’ve got no idea, tell me.”

She scoffs, shaking her head as she smiles, “He told me that he more than knew his way around place a place like this and that I had nothing to worry about with him. Can you imagine having the nerve like that at his age?”

The thought made you laugh. It reminded you of Five. His haggard temper in the body of his younger self always seemed to shock people in the very same way. You paused. It couldn’t be him, couldn’t it? You must be jumping to conclusions. After all this time, it’d make no sense if he was here now and yet…

“He said that?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing as you glance between the table and Mary-Anne. You squint, trying to see if you could recognise him.

A part of you felt silly and girlish for still holding out hope but this kid’s description was just too similar and besides, you were a teenager again, you were allowed to be lovesick and entirely delusional. It was practically your god-given right.

Mary-Anne nodded, loading her tray up with drinks of all shapes and sizes to cover her half of the room, “He did.”

Your eyes were locked onto the distant table, practically pleading for the kid to just turn around and let your hopes down already. Still, all that greeted you was the back of his head and the green fuzz of the poker table in front of him.

When you didn’t tear your eyes away, Mary-Anne looked you up and down, her baby blue eyes swimming with concern, “You alright there?”

Looking back at her, you sigh, already pent up at the possibility of Five being so close, “Yeah, I just… What did he look like?” You ask tentatively, biting your rouge-tinted, bottom lip between your teeth.

Mary-Anne hums in thought as she loads your tray for you, “Gosh, I don’t know - he had dark hair, was wearing a suit. It had the funniest, little emblem on it.” She says, tapping her chest in place of where it would’ve been.

Your eyes widen in shock and excitement as you process her words, “An umbrella! It was an umbrella, wasn’t it?”

Mary-Anne grins, giggling, “It was… how’d you know that?”

You couldn’t even answer her. You were already starting to tremble and hyperventilate, entirely overcome with nerves and joy and pure, unbridled excitement all at once. A year of being apart and now he was no more than a few strides away. Your smile brightens up like no other.

You slip your tray from over your head and place it down on the bar as you say, “Hey, cover for me, would you? I’ll be two seconds.”

Without waiting for her answer, you dash across the room - a flurry of giddiness bubbling up inside of you the closer you get. You tousle your hair and straighten your uniform, anything to keep your anxious fingers busy and to better yourself for something you’ve waited for for far too long.

Hearing heels coming towards him again, Five sighs in frustration and turns around in his chair, “Lady, I already told you-“

The breath feels like it’s been stolen from your throat as he turns to face you. It’s really, truly him. Your boyfriend is right there in front of you and you’ve never felt more relief than in this moment.

“Y/N.”

You’re not sure if you want to cry or scream or simply just take him in for the first time all over again. As you look over him, his piercing gaze, his dark hair and the freckle on his right cheek that you can’t count the number of times you’ve kissed, your eyes can’t help but be drawn to his lips.

God, how you’ve missed the feeling of them. You barely have time to think about what you’re doing before you’re cupping his face and pressing your lips against his once more, savouring every part of him in a way you’d never thought to before.

Your hands trail over every callous in his skin, memorising him with your fingertips, and as you pull back, Five’s gaze softens like nothing else as he smirks, “Hello, you.”

His hands reach out to cup your face, gazing over you as if he’s not entirely sure that you’re real. After all your time apart, you’re not sure either. You smile, nodding, “It’s me. It’s you. You’re here, you’re really here!”

You cup his face in return and you can’t help but press another kiss to his lips. He smiles fondly as you do. And so you kiss him again… and again on his cheek… and on his freckle… his chin… his forehead. Everywhere your lips can reach, you press them.

After a moment, he laughs weakly and reaches up to pull your hands away from his face and intertwines them with his own fingers instead, “Okay, love.” He says chasteningly, “Let’s calm down there, shall we?”

Your smile grows shyer as you right yourself, “Sorry.” You say, brushing your hair away from your face.

He shakes his head, brushing your hair back for you and then guiding you by the waist to the seat beside him, “No, don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry. Believe me, I’m just as happy to see you. Really.”

It’s him who initiates the kiss this time. He’s soft, delicate almost, in the way that he kisses you, as if each movement of his lips is a new way of giving all of his love to you and promising that he won’t ever let you out of his sights again.

[bertoyana]

i'm so sorry i don't want to be the "the party ended 5 years ago and he's still here" person but dark phoenix's final scene is still SO funny to me. especially to see how erik plays charles like a fiddle

like: he shows up with NO helmet AND a chess set. (he did this last time in days of the future past, and it worked, right? so it should work again, right? right???)

so, he sits, completely uninvited mind you, and he tries (and fails terribly bless his heart) at starting a normal conversation, he asks charles about his retirement, probably trying to get charles to like, talk about it or whatever

(rip erik's hairline)

charles is not having any of it, which... valid. the last time he and erik had a full conversation, erik told him to shut the fuck up 

anyways, erik realizes his failed attempt at being casual did NOT work like he wanted, so he pulls out plan b - he calls charles his old friend (which, if you pay attention, in the prequels they use 'old friend' as a term to de-escalate the situation)

which WORKS, for some reason, and charles immediately deflates and gives erik the tiniest smile in existence, because erik showing he cares always seems to do it for charles lmao

(he's so embarrassing . god bless. @ x men: is this your leader)

anyhow, erik pulls out the second part of his plan b - he asks charles if he wants to play a game. still playing casual. just two buddies. just two guys. some guys. just some friends having a toootal normal n casual conversation.

and you can immediately see charles close himself up, he crosses his arms and avoids looking erik in the eye. erik managed to soften him up with the 'old friend' and having his helmet off, but it's not enough YET so erik pulls out his plan c. luckily his last one, christ, charles really does like to keep them waiting doesn't he

keep an eye on erik's entire demeanor in this scene, his position is not closed off like charles', he's open, he leans on the table, and maintains eye contact with charles. his head is tilted to one side and everything, completely harmless

i'm so obsessed with charles' microexpressions here james mcavoy you are so insane

anwyays, charles uncrosses his arms and his position does come off a little more open, but if you watch the scene you can see him shake his head. this obviously touches him - but he's probably intending to say still no. probably because he has the biggest martyr complex i've ever seen in a fictional character 

so, erik pulls up his fucking plan d (lol) and hopefully this time IT WILL be the last. he pulls the pawn out of his jacket pocket.

(why the fuck is this played like a fucking romantic scene i'm so serious, why is he smiling to himself like that)

mind you, erik had the pawn in his pocket the entire time, which could mean either of two things:

charles looks surprised/confused the entire scene, but in THIS part he doesn't look confused, he just looks like he's still trying to figure out what erik is trying to do. so it either means erik makes charles play this 'guess where it's hiding' game all the time (????) which doesn't really sound likely for him to do, but erik is always begging charles to get into his head so it wouldn't surprise me if he actually did this every time. god knows he's desperate enough or

erik was expecting charles to reject his offer right away, and had multiple other plans shoved up his ass if this was the case. this also seems likely, he's obsessive enough to have thought multiple ways through. 

anyways, he puts his two fists up and pulls up the most mortal sentence in existence. one he knows charles won't be able to deny him

"just ONE game 🥺 for old time's sake???? 🥺🥺🥺" man stfu you are 62 years old GET UPPPP 

anyways - pay attention to his wording. 

"just one game" because erik came ALLLL this way for charles, so charles might as well play ONE game with him, and then erik could be gone - if charles wanted it that way. 

"for old's time sake" when things were easier and when they were more at peace - when they were on each other's side. when they were together and the mansion, just after charles had saved him and gave him a hom- oh wait 

(also, there's 100% a hidden meaning here. and there’s also a 100% chance i’m reaching but idc. the pawn could be in his left hand or his right. the possibility is 50/50. the only way charles could know with 100% certainty was if he entered erik's mind - if he took up erik's offer. but he could also not get into erik's mind and just... guess and fail - by thus, not taking erik's offer. erik is giving him an out, a choice to make the first move)

(and the chess piece he offers charles a WHITE pawn. the white pieces are the first ones to move. 

also also if you have paid attention to the previous movies, erik is always the one to use the white pieces, this is the first movie where we see charles play with white)

anyways, charles does struggle a bit with the choice, but ultimately he decides to accept erik's proposal and """guesses""" right.  

and going from erik's... entire face and smirk lmao i'm guessing charles went into his head to get it right. mind you, this is like sex for them

charles accepts - erik is very relieved to know he's not the only one who's down horrendously. and after the worst guessing game in history (seriously, the pawn was in erik's right pocket and then he had it hidden in his right hand... man i guessed that shit and i'm not even a telepath) they start rearranging the board

so anyway, erik gives charles this look like he wants to climb him like a tree, which means that playing edward 'down embarrassingly bad' rochester in jane eyre (2011) finally fucking paid off

erik doesn't even blink mind you, and charles doesn't take his eyes off erik either way, which means they are just STARING at each other without blinking for god knows how long LMAOOO 😭😭😭

once everything is said and done, erik makes a silly little joke and charles rebuts. then erik gives him the biggest smile i've ever seen him give to someone since magda, and then he follows it up with a smaller, softer smile with no teeth

seeing this for the first time in the theater was like getting shot in the chest, no joke

mind you erik stopped trying like three minutes ago but for some reason, the first time we finally see charles soften up in the ENTIRE movie is after he sees erik smiling at him. which could mean nothing.

and the thing is: charles does have a big heart, and he means well, most of the time, but he also doesn’t necessarily has… the best way of showing it with his actions lol. erik knows this, and he knows charles has a thing for lost causes, for people the society has given up on. charles threw himself into the freezing water to save erik - even when he didn't KNOW him. 

AND he also knows charles has the biggest soft spot for him, he KNOWS - because all those years ago, charles' biggest accussation wasn't "you paralyzed me" it was "you left me". because after erik lost his wife and daughter, charles rushed to find him, to make sure he was okay. because nine years ago, charles looked at apocalypse and said "fuck you you are twisting erik's grief, and you are hurting him" to A GOD BTW. TO HIS FUCKING FACE NO FUCKS GIVEN AT ALL

tldr: call erik the fucking violinist because boy he sure knows how to play charles like a fucking instrument and how to press all the right keys to get him to say yes to him. he gave charles an out if he didn't want to come with him, but he also came PREPARED for it, mind you, he came PREPARED to take charles with him to genosha. he didn't get to take charles with him 30 years ago, and he was going to be dammed if he didn't take charles with him NOW (this time with no bullet wound and no helmet lol)

and the most insane thing to me is, that he knows charles has a soft spot for him, he's known this for 30 years, and yet, the only time he uses it in his favor is to get charles to say yes to him on this. the only time he uses it is when he thinks he can do something to help charles - to give him back all the kindness charles gave to him 30 years ago. 

anways i'm insane. i'll be back here eating glass if you need me. i'm so normal about them. simon kinberg broke something in me 5 years ago

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 14 - Role Playing]

Pairing: Good Boy!JK + Mommy Dom!Reader

Genre: married life!AU, for the sake of the role play: forbidden love!AU, CEO!Reader, prostitute!Jungkook

Kinks: the trope of subby boy totally enthralled by his Domme, sex worker role play, sugar Mommy roleplay, he calls her both Mistress & Mommy, exhibitionism, handjob & blowjob in the car to the hotel room, he is so whiney and subby and pretty as she does it, orgasm control, cock rings, bondage gear which is also used later on, handjob in the hotel room, temperature play with ice cubes, slight food play, masochist!Jungkook, praise, nipple play, mirror sex, subby boy tears, suit kink (she wears the suit), creampie, passionate sex in Amazon Position with his hands tied to his legs, possessive talk, he is THE subby boy, loving & giggly aftercare, they're so in loVE!!!!

Wordcount: 7.4k

a/n: this is based on these two asks 💛 i love him so much holy fuck the drink feeding part ruined me KFADKSF actually everything about this ruined me, you have no idea. he is quite frankly, my ideal subby boy and i might need to leave this earth to go touch some alien grass or smth

Jungkook was told to wait at the usual spot. He arrived earlier tonight, so he has been pacing, asking himself whether or not you would come. You never stood him up before, but there is a first for everything. 

A few people pass him, paying him no mind. They would look at him weird if they knew what he was wearing under his oversized clothes. It was a dark gray matching set of baggy pants and a baggy t-shirt, hiding bondage gear under it. The harness was black in colour and made of the finest leather. It doesn’t hurt nor pinch, but Jungkook definitely feels it when he moves. 

He checks the time again. You should be here any second now. He feels a little breathless at the aspect. He can’t wait to see you. He knows that someone in his position has no right to feel this way, but he can’t help himself. You always treat him right, making sure that he leaves each session lightheaded. Sometimes Jungkook wonders if he should even feel this way as someone who gets paid to have sex with you, but he does. That’s what he is. Someone whose job is sex. He gets a call or a text telling him to wait here and there with the aspect of having to perform sexual activities for the person contacting him. There are a few he doesn’t answer anymore when they contact him and there are such he wishes they would contact him each night. Quite frankly, you are the only one he has such wishes for. It was purely professional at first, but then your gentle nature and immense sexual talent made him develop feelings for you. When he got the text tonight, Jungkook almost screamed in happiness. 

His excitement grows at the view of your sports car rolling up to him. He tries not, but still ends up bouncing on his tiptoes as he waves at you with a big grin. He can’t help himself. He is so, so excited.

The car you are driving is black and imported from Europe. It stops in front of him and the passenger window rolls down. 

“Hi, how are you?” he greets you cheerfully.

“Good. Get in”, you order, leaning over to unlock the passenger door.

Jungkook gets inside, holding his breath as you reach over his body to get the seatbelt. He squeezes his thighs together, gazing at your face. Your arm brushes against his chest, making his skin feel charged. Your scent so close is making his racing heart flutter.

The seatbelt clicks in place, you fumble with it a little to check its tightness. Once you are happy with it, you place your hand on his thigh, connecting your lips with the side of his neck in a long, sensual kiss. Jungkook sighs, closing his eyes and parting his lips. His fingers instinctively grasp your hand, his hips roll up against nothing.

You end the kiss by sucking a slight mark on his skin, purring happily. 

“I missed your scent this week”, you rasp, inhaling him greedily. 

Jungkook moans, fucking the air again. He already feels lightheaded and it has only been seconds with you. 

“Fuck, that’s what I needed”, you purr and sit up. You abandon his thigh for the sake of grasping his chin gently, forcing his eyes to meet yours. “You look pretty tonight.”

“Thank, thank you” he barely gets out in a croaky whisper, feeling starstruck. 

You give him a faint smile and slip your hand away, gripping the gear stick instead to shift it into the right position. The car drives off smoothly. You keep both hands on the steering wheel until you successfully merged back into traffic, then slip your right onto Jungkook’s thigh. 

He inhales sharply, squirming on the seat. 

“How was your week?” you ask him, rubbing mindless circles into his skin. Jungkook dedicates one more part of his soul to you with each circle.

“Good.”

“Yeah? Had lots of work?” 

“I tried not to book too many.”

“No? Why not?”

“Because I knew you would call. I wanted to save myself.”

You scoff in surprise, “hah.” You tongue your cheek and glance at him briefly. “Tch”, the chuckle starts as a scoff. You turn on the radio and touch his thigh again. “You should be careful with the words you’re saying.”

The music you are playing is laced with the taste of sex. You definitely chose it on purpose.

Jungkook shifts needily, finding it difficult to breathe normally. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, sweetheart. I’m not the one who’ll end up crying tonight.”

Jungkook touches your hand. It was so needy in nature, drawing a knowing smirk onto your painted lips. 

You are wearing a suit and tie like always when you pick him up. The suit is grey tonight and you matched a white button up and a dark grey tie with it. The waistcoat is made of the same material as the suit, hugging your curves. You wear your hair in a professional manner and put makeup on. Jungkook is very attracted to you when you look like this. The amount of power and influence you exude makes him want to kiss every footstep you leave. 

You slip your hand to his thigh again. You are currently standing at a red light. There are cars all around you, painting your faces is a mixture of red and white lights. Jungkook spots the sparkles of diamond earrings in the light.

“Are you wearing the harness I told you to wear?” you ask him, rubbing his thigh back and forth. Jungkook tingles each time your hand brushes over his inner thigh.

“Yes, I am.”

“Show me.”

Jungkook glances around himself. You, who feels his hesitation, look at him.

“Go on. What are you waiting for?” you stress him. 

With a fluctuating pulse, Jungkook lifts the shirt over his torso, aware of the cars around you. 

“Mhm, how pretty”, you say dryly. “Good. Hide it again. We don’t want others to see what I pay for.” 

Jungkook makes sure that the shirt is tugged down neatly. His eyes meet yours. You are expecting something from him.

“Well go ahead, will you?”

“Oh. Oh, I’m sorry”, he stammers and lifts his hips to pull down his pants, exposing the fact that he is wearing no briefs. His slightly hardened cock carries a cockring on its base. Glimpses of more gear going down his legs can be seen. 

“There we go. It wasn’t that hard. Get dressed.”

He obeys quickly, sitting back down with a way heavier cock than before. You are already fucking him without having to do anything. Jungkook is so deeply under your spell.

The traffic continues. You drive off, switching lanes after a while. It will take you around ten minutes to get to the hotel. 

You bury your hand in his pants and take a hold of his cock. 

“A-ah”, Jungkook lets out in honest surprise, gripping the edge of the seat as his entire butt lifts off the seat in a needy thrust.

“You know the rules”, you tell him and then no more words leave your lips. 

The only noises are the city around you. Other cars, your own car, the music on the radio. They fill the silence you create. Jungkook helps as well; in breathy gasps and shy whimpers he fills the car together with the slick sound of your hand jerking him off. 

Your eyes are glued to the traffic, you tap your unoccupied hand on the steering wheel to the music. It is as if you were completely unaffected by the situation and you definitely want to give off this vibe. 

Jungkook can’t mirror your state. He is done for. Your hand knows his cock so well, touching him exactly where it feels the best. He goes from soft to rapidly hard from only a few strokes, meeting your touch in needy thrusts.

Truly the contrast is way too delicious. You, completely stoic and calm as you steer through traffic and Jungkook, utterly ruined and panting with shaky legs as he completely forgets that traffic might actually see him. 

You stop at a red light again. Only two more to go before the hotel. You look at him. 

His head is thrown back, his mouth agape and his eyes closed. What a beautifully arousing sight to see. 

You tug his cock out of his pants and use the moment of wait to steal a taste. You sink him in completely, purring around him. 

Jungkook moans. There is no way in hell he would have stayed quiet. Not when you bury him in your tight throat and send vibrations through him with your voice. 

Two more purrs then you slip off, sucking on him hungrily the entire time.

Blop.

You slipped off, licking your lips as you straighten back up. Jungkook whimpers, chasing you with a sloppy cock and throbbing balls. He is leaking so much precum, base stretching out the rubber cockring.

The red light switches. You drive off, playing with his precum by rubbing his cockhead with your thumb. Jungkook is almost louder than the music at this point, head now resting on the spot between the seat and the window and back arched. 

You don’t acknowledge him, steering your car with one hand. You have to switch lanes one more time and then you are already where you need to be. You do so calmly and safely all while your hand closes around his tip again to jerk it. Quickly, as if you were vibrating around him. Jungkook’s legs begin shaking, he drags out his moans, squeezing his eyes shut to the point they crinkle. 

The car rolls to stop again. The red light, the last one before you take the driveway to the hotel. You lean over and sink him back into your mouth, slurping deliciously as you move your tongue as best as possible.

“Mistress!” Jungkook wails, reaching up to twist the seatbelt. His other hand grips the head rest, dimpling it deeply. He is mewling so much, throbbing in your mouth constantly while you messy him with sloppy oral. 

You moan and purr deeply, enjoying every second of his cock, every fucking inch. You swallow him to the base, crying no tears nor feeling the need to gag because you stopped having such reactions years ago because in reality, your lives were flipped once. 

This right here, tonight, is nothing but pretend between a loving married couple. Jungkook has never been a sexworker before nor was he ever paid to have sex with someone. You have no interest in being a CEO nor for you to pay him for sex. In reality, you were once the one he paid after a long day of being CEO until you fell in love and started a life together. One thing however will always be true. Your roles of power. Jungkook will always be your sub while you will always be his Domme. Even in this roleplay tonight. You are both so into it that it feels real. Right now Jungkook is the prostitute who should be used to blowjobs but who is currently losing his control while you are the hungry CEO needy for the taste of her favourite prostitute. You can’t get enough of him, but alas the traffic continues. 

You slip off messily, letting your strings of saliva slap down his cock. You pick them up with your hand, using their slick to jerk off his cock. Jungkook barely wants to stay in his seat, pressing himself into the door wall.

“Mo-ommy ple-please”, he sobs, scrunching his face. He lets out the most devastating noises afterwards, twisting the seatbelt.

You ignore him, ogling the hotel in the near distance. You are so turned on. It’s difficult to drive at this point because of it. Jungkook turns you on so much. His noises are like ecstasy to you. 

“Pl-uh-ease”, he wails and fucks your fist, moaning sweetly as his body shakes against his will. He does it repeatedly, having found the magic spot. 

Your pussy is literally throbbing. If you weren’t so good at pretending that this left you cold, you would already be panting like a dog. 

You roll into the parking garage of the hotel, searching for a parking space while beside you, Jungkook is coming closer and closer to an orgasm. He is squeaking so perfectly, fucking your fist like the neediest bunny ever. 

You find a parking spot, driving into it backwards and with one hand. The motor turns off with a low purr. Jungkook hasn’t noticed that you came to a stop, arching his back from your touch. 

One you retreat now that you are standing. 

“No” Jungkook hits his head against the window and writhes, “I was so close, no please.” 

“We’re here. Get it together.”

Jungkook barely peels his eyes open, looking at you all sniffly and pouty.

You, now gripping the steering wheel with both hands, cock your brow at him.

“What?”

“I, I was close.”

“And?”

He whimpers weakly, “it hurts.”

“How terrible. Don’t worry, we’ve got time. Tell me a little about your day.” 

“What?” he breathes.

“Your cock. It’s way too hard. We’ll stay here till it’s soft again.”

Jungkook mewls, squirming his hips.

“Your day. Tell me about it.”

“I, I thought of you all day.”

“You did?” 

“And all the days before that too. I missed you.”

You haven’t been home for five days for the authenticity of the roleplay. You stayed in this hotel, giving him no calls nor texts. You can’t deny that it didn’t make you want him in more ways than one as well. 

“You missed me?”

“So much. Oh god so much”, he pulls a face of desperation, rolling his hips up, “I’m so hard, oh god.” 

“I can see that. Are you not gonna ask me how my day was?”

“I’m sorry, oh god, oh. Did, did you have a good day?”

“Yes it was good. I had way too many meetings, but I kept getting distracted.”

“Why?”

“I thought of you in all of them although I shouldn’t have.”

“You did?” 

“Mhm, I did.” 

You unbuckle the belt and get on your knees, using your new position to lean over him with one hand on the window. It fogs up from your body heat. He gulps, feeling fragile and weak in your presence.

“Why is that, mhm?” You ask him, studying his flushed face. “I’m merely paying you. It should mean nothing to me and yet...” You trail off, studying his glossy lips. You speak no more thoughts, tracing his lips with your messied thumb. 

Jungkook licks it instinctively, moaning in submission as his big, brown eyes gaze up at you. Every other night, you would be kissing him right now. But not tonight. You sit back and glance at his cock. It has softened a little. Barely, but you are feeling impatient.

“Perfect. You’re good. Get dressed”, you say and leave the car, rounding it in confident steps. 

Jungkook tries to sit up straight, stuffing his cock into his pants. It is very difficult to do because he is still very hard. 

You open the door for him and offer him the hand which, moments ago, was around his cock. 

Jungkook gulps, accepting it so you can help him get out of the car. You are wearing dress shoes because driving in heels would be reckless. Jungkook sees no difference, worshiping you with his big eyes. 

You close the door and lock the car, letting the keys slip into the inner pocket of your suit jacket. 

You take his hand.

“Follow me.” 

He obeys, following you like a good little puppy even if walking with a semi is very difficult. 

Your hotel room is on the twentieth floor. You don’t talk in the elevator, having your back turned to him as you stand right in front of him. Your pinkie fingers are hooked however, letting Jungkook float on cloud nine. He missed you so much this week, despite not being allowed to, and it feels so good to know that you missed him too. That you craved to be close to him as well. Fuck, the lines between professional and unprofessional are so fucking blurry between you and him. 

You step closer to him each time other people enter the elevator, making sure that he is covered from their eyes. He may be walking around with a hard-on but this is still your hard-on to look at. No one else is allowed a glance at it. Not even on accident.

By the time you reach the twentieth floor, Jungkook is leaking into his pants. You take such good care of him. Your overprotective and almost possessive nature makes him want to become your personal little plaything. Seriously, tonight he would be happy living a life in a cage if that is what you think is best for him. You wouldn’t even have to pay him for it. Being close to you, being yours, would already be payment enough for him.

Like always, you booked the biggest suit. Only the best for your favourite prostitute. That’s what you told him when you first led him to your room. Jungkook gazed at it with sparkling eyes back then, not believing his luck. He wasn’t used to such riches and luxury because his other customers take him to motels or fuck him in their cars. You are different. Of course you are. 

“Welcome back, am I right?” you lead him inside with your hand on his lower back.

Jungkook thanks you with a bow of his head, which makes you roll your eyes at him fondly. He is too polite for his own good. 

You were lonely before you met Jungkook. Life as a CEO is busy and hectic and leaves little room for personal relationships. You had influence, you had power and you had money but no one to share it with. No one to spend it on. So you looked for it on dating apps first, but never found what you were looking for. Then one night you stumbled upon the website he was on. It was a website where people could offer their bodies sexually for payment. Back then, you booked him solely from his description. 

Lean, fit male sub with good stamina and expertise. Heterosexual but very open. Dark hair, brown eyes, five inches hard and can keep it up for long. Not opposed to anal. Kinky. Keeps it professional. Payment in cash only.

Maybe you could spend your money on him, you thought back then. You may not find love, but at least your needs will be met.

If only you knew that he would be waiting for you. He with his pretty face and his prettiest eyes, with his cute moans and perfect body, who always has something adorable to tell you and who is so, so polite. He made the loneliness go away and you wanted to spend your every fucking penny on him.

Like always, you lead him to the bed by his hand and sit him down on the foot end of it. Jungkook glances at the ceiling briefly, gulping heavily at the sight of the big ceiling mirror. The indications of what it means makes him shift needily. 

“Sit properly.”

Jungkook straightens his back and presents his hands palms up on his thighs, “sorry.”

“Mhm.” You give him a little smile. “Now that the real fun is going to start, let’s hear our safety rules.”

“The handjob wasn’t part of it yet?”

“Obviously not. Just wanted to examine my product a little.”

Jungkook moans, back slacking in defeat.

“Sit up.”

He shoots up instantly, blinking his eyes shyly.

“Good. Tell me the rules.”

“Green, yellow and red. Snap my fingers three times or hum Happy Birthday. Yes, I want this. Please Mistress, please I really want this.”

“Good. You’re being so obedient tonight. I like this”, you praise and turn your back to him to disappear in the room next door. 

Jungkook waits patiently even if he is a mess. His pants are sticking to his cock. He wants to be with you so much that it hurts not to be. 

You reappear with two flutes of sparkling water. 

“Are you thirsty?” 

“A little.”

You hand him one flute, keeping the second. 

“Thank-” he gets stopped in his endeavour of drinking with two fingers grasping his chin.

“Eyes on me.”

He obeys, struggling with it when seconds later you place the rim of your flute against his lips. You tilt his head back for him, tilting the glass with it. 

“Drink.” 

Jungkook obeys, closing his eyes sensually as you feed him the sparkling water. It tingles on his tongue, wetting his dry throat. He gulps and swallows hungrily, moaning softly. 

You feel so parched, watching him drink from your hands with your lips parted.

“That’s it. Drink”, you rasp, gulping with him. The last few drops roll down his chin messily. The glass is empty. You pull it away and wipe the water from his chin. 

Jungkook flutters his eyes open, keeping them half-lidded as he gazes up at you droopily. His lips are parted, he is breathing heavily.

“How was that?” you ask him with your voice raspy in arousal. 

“Good”, he croaks.

“Sorry that I got you a little messy”, you apologise, rubbing his chin.

“I didn’t mind”, he whispers, gazing at your lips. He wants to kiss you. He hangs on your every word. You fed him water, but in reality, you fed on his soul instead. With each gulp, each cold drop which ran down his throat because of you, he gave you parts of his soul. What a cold, addicting deal you sealed with this act.

“That’s good. Your face is so pretty, it would be a shame if I messied it even more”, you say and straighten up, leaving him to crave something he knows he can’t have. Your sweetened kiss.

You take the flute from his hand and drink from it as you walk to the table to set his empty glass aside. You finished half of it when you return to him, swirling it in your hand casually. You put ice cubes in your water, they clink against the glass as you inspect him.

“Undress.”

Jungkook obeys quickly, sitting down on the bed afterwards. He doesn’t feel uncomfortable being naked in front of you. On the contrary. Being so exposed while you are still in your expensive suit turns him on.

“Shit, you’re so fucking handsome”, you murmur under your breath, licking the rim of the glass mindlessly. 

Jungkook gulps, wishing that he could switch places with the glass. 

“What do you think of the weather lately? It’s been too hot, hasn’t it?” 

Jungkook is a little confused about your sudden need to talk about the weather, but he still nods his head obediently, “yeah, really hot.” 

“Mhm, I agree”, you murmur mindlessly and poke your fingers into your flute of water to fish for an ice cube. You keep it between three fingers and connect it with his neck. 

Jungkook gasps, shivering. His skin is covered in goosebumps instantly, his breath quickens.

“I’ll cool you off a little, yeah?” 

He keens a soft “mh-hm”, nodding his head. It is difficult to keep his eyes open when you make him feel so good. His skin is very sensitive to temperature and you know that. The ice cubes are like cold electricity to him, charging him with so much pleasure that he already wants to cry. He cries easily when he is with you because you always make him feel so good that it’s a little overwhelming.

You guide the ice cube along his collarbones to the other side of his pretty neck. Jungkook follows the touch with shivers running down his back. The ice is actively melting as it touches his skin, leaving behind dripping trails of water. You let them sit on his skin, enjoying the sight of them glistening in the lights. You switch hands because it got too cold for you, using your cooled fingers to grip his chin and tilt his head up.

Jungkook sighs audibly, parting his lips. The ice cube traces the shape of them. He dares not to stick his tongue out, regretting it blissfully when you stuff the small ice cube into his mouth without warning. He mewls and gurgles, curling his tongue to keep the ice inside.

His little struggle makes you chuckle and wipe the water from his lips. He gulps the melted water down, mewling just for you.

“You’re so adorable”, you say and push at his chest.

He falls back, gasping at the impact. His eyes lock with his own reflection instantly, flustering him. He looks to the side.

“Keep your eyes on yourself.”

He obeys even when it flusters him to look at himself like this. Not in a bad way, but in a very arousing way. His hair is messy, his lips so pink from the ice. His neck and collarbones match in colour. Jungkook feels himself reach up instinctively, looking at himself oh so submissively. Look at him. He is such a good sub. Oh god, this is such a turn on.

He is so preoccupied with looking at himself that he doesn’t even notice you crawling on his lap until he feels your weight on him. He tenses up, eyes flitting to you.

You are still dressed, but took off your suit jacket and rolled up your sleeves. The view steals his sanity. You sit right under his cock, making him crave you more than air.

“You’re being such a good boy for me”, you praise him and lift a new ice cube into his vision. “Look at yourself, okay?”

He nods his head, obeying instantly. You connect the cold ice with his neck first, guiding it down to his chest this time around. Each second makes him feel breathless. Watching it pleasure him makes it even harder to bear. It feels so good, reaching its peak when you circle his nipple with it.

“Ah”, Jungkook moans loudly, arching his back into your touch as his fingers grip the sheets and twist.

“Eyes on yourself.”

He obeys, trembling under you.

“Gosh, look at you. Are you already crying?”

“Feels so intense”, he whimpers, barely able to look into his eyes, “Please can I close my eyes? It’s too intense.”

“Of course it is”, you state matter-of-factly and circle his other nipple with it. “You can’t close your eyes.”

“Pleaseeee.”

Jungkook mewls through gritted teeth, arching his back again and twisting the sheets. His cock throbs, leaking on his tummy. His neck is tensed. He is so fucking pretty like this.

“You’re such a pretty man”, you purr, giving his overstimulated nipples a quick break by guiding the almost melted ice cube through his abs. The goosebumps on his skin refuse to leave, the skin around his dark nipples is pink and tender. “So fucking pretty, it’s insane.”

Jungkook closes his eyes. He can’t do it anymore. The praise is too much.

“Hey”, you warn, tugging on his cock once.

Jungkook instantly fucks into your fist, making the neediest noises. The pleasure is so warm and good for two seconds and then burning cold pierces his cockhead as you press the ice cube against it, letting it melt there. In his panic, he opens his eyes, looking at you pleadingly. His noises let you know that this right now hurts in a good way.

“Eyes open. I thought my instructions were easy to follow.”

Jungkook pants and whimpers, writhing under you.

“I know it hurts, but I need you to learn that disobeying me will end in punishments.”

“Please”, he sobs.

“No. No begging. Why did you do it mhm?”

“It, it felt too good. Almost close, I mean, almost ca- cum. Oh god please”, he writhes, throwing his head to the side, “it hurts so much.”

“Well, are you sorry?”

“Yes! Yes, I’m sorry!”

“And are you gonna keep your eyes open?”

“Yes! I’m sorry, I will!”

“Good boy”, you praise, releasing him of his torture by finally opening your fist around his cock. You slip the tiny ice cube between your lips, letting it melt there with a delicious hum. “Mhm, tastes like you.”

Jungkook glances at his cock. The spot where the ice cube was pressed into it is purple from the cold. Of course you spot it as well, rubbing your thumb into it and sending such pleasure through his body that Jungkook almost throws you off from how aggressively his thrusts his hips.

You can handle him, taming his shaky thighs with little struggle until they are pinned under you again. You close the rest of your fingers around his cock to continue where you left off in the car.

Jungkook yelps up in ecstasy, throwing his head back as far as the mattress allows him to. Eye contact with himself is so difficult, but you told him to obey. He can’t disappoint you again. What if you tell him to never come back? What if you stop calling him? He can’t risk any more slip-ups, not when his entire existence is at stake.

Your hand is quick and skilled around his shackled length, forcing his legs to shake under your weight. It feels so good and Jungkook cries as he looks at himself. Not only has it been too long since he last felt your touch and this makes him cry, it is also to view of him which brings tears to his eyes. He is yours right now. Your pretty sub spread out on the sheets while you have your fun with him. He is so happy to be yours. Even if it is only for a few hours.

“I’m yours”, he croaks, feeling your hand falter around his cock.

“What did you just say?”

“I’m yours”, he is looking at himself as he speaks, “I’m yours. I’m only yours.”

“My little star… I’m paying you to be here. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No”, he cries tears, “no, I’m yours. Please, I’m yours.”

“No, Jungkook”, you choke out, dropping his cock for the sake of taking his face between your hands. Your face replaces his view, sending tears of worship down his face. He loves you so much and you have no idea that he does. Your eyes are foggy, your pupils dilated. “You have no idea what you’re saying.”

“I do. I’m yours, please Mistress.”

For just a second, your eyes mirrored the deep feelings Jungkook experiences when he is with you. For just a second he had the reassurance that his words are reciprocated. And then you break away from him, leaving his lap.

Jungkook feels too defeated to sit up. He lies in the sheets, crying little tears in the aching realisation that he is nothing but your product right now. You said it yourself. You are paying for him like you would pay for more milk in the store. The view of him would have probably hurt him irreparably when he didn’t suddenly feel your fingers twist the straps on his legs. He lifts his head, meeting your hungry stare.

“Legs up.”

He obeys, bending his knees and resting them on each side of his torso.

“Arms down.”

He obeys, presenting them to you as  you clearly want to make use of the bondage gear. You open the clasps on his calve belts, hooking it in the ring on his wrist ties. Like this, Jungkook is forced to stay in the folded, open position. He feels so exposed and vulnerable like this, wishing for whatever you wanted to do to him.

“Comfortable? Do you like this?” you make sure.

“Yes, so much.”

“How long has it been since you’ve been hard with the cockring on?” you ask him.

“I, I don’t know”, he stutters, barely able to bring his voice over breathy gasps.

“I think it’s time we take it off, don’t you think?”

He doesn’t answer you, but it is okay for you.

“Promise me to be a good boy and hold back, okay?”

He nods his head vigorously, throbbing in your hand.

“That’s what I’m paying you for. Such obedience”, you praise and unbuckle the leather strap around his cock.

You can literally feel his cock throb in relief and how it grows so much harder in your hand. Pearly drops of pleasure leak from him. They are dangerously close to being white. The noises Jungkook makes and the utter bliss on his face lets you know that you aren’t that far off with your assumptions. 

“Look at you. That feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Mhhmhm”, he mewls, nodding his head vigorously.

“Good”, you say and drop his cock, denying him of heaven.

Jungkook keens, writhing as best as his constricted position allows him to.

“Please, oh god please”, he begs, but to no avail.

You step back, falling back into your stern role. You begin undressing. Jungkook tries to watch you as best as the position allows him.

Your vest falls to the ground, your tie is opened, your shirt is unbuttoned and tugged out of your opened slacks within seconds. You pull said slacks down soon after, abandoning them on the floor alongside your panties. You keep the shirt on, climbing onto bed with the tie between your fingers.

“Eyes on yourself.”

Jungkook obeys, barely catching his breath. He wiggles his hands, coming to the blissed realisation that he can’t move them very much.

“You think you know what you’re talking about?” you say to him and bend over him to guide the tie behind his neck.

Jungkook gulps, gazing up at you with a dizzy head. With skilled fingers, you knot the tie and wrap the excess fabric around your hand two times so it sits snug in your tight fist. A makeshift leash to keep him close.

“You think you want to be owned by me? What do you even know about me? I pay for your company, do you truly think you would want to be with me willingly?”

“Yes”, Jungkook breathes, tilting his head closer in devotion.

You tug, helping him with the movement with the tie around his neck. Your eyes are burning in a dark fire. If you could, you would probably devour him with just a look.

“Don’t say promises you can’t keep.”

“Please, I could serve you so well.”

“No you couldn’t. I’m fucking twisted.”

“I’m flexible.”

An honest laugh rips through you. A glimpse of his love shines through the pretend persona you are performing tonight. Jungkook giggles, scrunching his nose.

“Fuck, you stupid noodle you”, you say, shaking your head in disbelief.

Jungkook’s heart flutters unbearably. He loves you so much.

You clear your throat and shake your shoulders to get back into character. 

“Don’t think that I agree with you just because you made me laugh. I’m an asshole. I earn too much money and decide to spend it on obedient boys like you.”

“I don’t care. Please.”

You grind your teeth and darken your eyes. You know that you can’t change his mind. At least not with words. You straighten up and reach between your bodies to take his cock between your fingers. Jungkook’s breath speeds up.

“Eyes on yourself.”

He obeys.

“That’s it. Watch how your face changes when I sink it in”, you order him, slipping down on his cock. You are on your knees as if you were fucking his ass, but instead you are milking his cock in your tight cunt. The movement is the same, forcing Jungkook’s toes to curl in ecstasy.

His eyes go out of focus but stay locked with his own reflection. Your name slips from his lips, carrying proof of how good it feels for him.

“That’s it. Keep looking at yourself. Watch how you look when I fuck you”, you growl, twisting the tie around his neck as you rail him senseless. The position feels incredibly stimulating to you. His cock naturally grinds against your clit and rubs against your g-spot. The power you have in this position and the view of his big body folded into such a tiny shaking mess does the rest. “Watch how it would look to be owned by me. Is that what you want?”

“Yes”, he moans, “yes, yes, yes, yes please, yes.”

“No you don’t. You don’t want to be mine. You don’t want this”, you growl, fucking him harder to the point the bed shakes.

Jungkook rips his mouth open, rolling his ankles and tugging at his restraints. His lids are so heavy that he barley sees out of them. His face is flushed and his nipples erect. The back of your head is in his view as well, just as the shirt punching up on your lower back is. As is the grey tie twisted in your fist and the marks it leaves on his neck. He doesn’t get it. How could he not want to be yours when he has never looked better before? So destroyed, so marked and ruined. So fucked.

Jungkook arches his back as best as possible, getting pinned down instantly with a strong hand on his hip. He throbs inside you, leaking way too much pleasure on your velvety walls. The strength on your grip makes your shirt stick to your muscles visibly. Jungkook goes insane at the view, finding it difficult to look at the mirror. He wants to roll his eyes back and go brain dead. Please.

“I would break you. I would fucking use you up until there is nothing left of you. Don’t you get it? I’m greedy. In every aspect of life. You think being kind made me CEO? No, I take what I want and ruin it in the process.”

Whatever you are saying is only making Jungkook want to be yours more and more. He shows you his devotion with high-pitched moans and tears spilled only for you.

You tug at the tie harshly, forcing his head to lift. Your breath brushes against his lips. Jungkook closes his eyes, chasing your kiss.

“You would hate him in the end”, you whisper.

“So why are you fucking me raw?” he croaks out.

“Fuck”, your hips stutter before picking up a punishing speed, making it difficult for both of you not to orgasm, “we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Please”, he squeaks, “kiss me.”

“We shouldn’t be…”

“Kiss me.”

“We shouldn’t …”

“Kiss me, please.”

“We…”

Your lips finally touch. You each moan into the other’s mouth instantly, breaking apart together. You drop the tie so you could cradle his face while Jungkook shakes his restraints and fills you with gushes of sticky cum. Your throbbing, tight pussy milks even more out of him, sending him to another planet because there is nothing better to him than sharing a high with you.

Once you come down together, your lower faces are messy from the sloppy tongue kissing you did and your heads are both pounding. The lipstick you once neatly wore is smeared all over your faces.

“Holy fuck”, you croak, dropping your sweaty forehead against his equally as sweaty forehead. You are panting for air, Jungkook is too.

Your pussy keeps his cock warm for now, but it will only be a matter of moments that it slips out on its own.

“Holy fuck, Kookie”, you breathe.

Jungkook whimpers, spilling happy tears with closed eyes and his body floating on the warm afterglow. You never called him like this before. It was filled with so much love. You feel the same for him. Jungkook cries in realisation.

“Why me? I pay you to get fucked by me. It’s nothing but money. How could you possibly love me?”

“Because you’re everything I ever wanted.”

“Fuck”, you twist his hair gently, pressing your forehead closer until your noses are squished slightly, “don’t say that, I might never let you go again.”

“Good. Don’t let me go.”

You chuckle softly, finding enough strength in your ruined body to tilt your head so you could kiss his forehead.

“How about I’ll take you to Hawaii first? All expenses paid.”

“You would do that with me?”

“Of course, my baby star candy.”

Jungkook peels his eyes open, looking up at you.

“Yes, please take me far away from here.”

You give him a smile, Jungkook retorts it.

“End scene”, you say, face morphing into your real expressions.

Jungkook breaks into giggles instantly, squirming under you happily.

“Wow mommy, you made us a-actually be together in the end. I’m so happy, this was so romantic”, he says, spilling tears.

“You’re such a cutie, gosh”, you wipe his tears. “Did you like it? I know you love happy endings.”

“I loved it so much. Oh my god, I’m so happy. This was so much better than I could have ever imagined it to be.”

“Hm”, you chuckle, pecking his lips, “you’re such a cutie, I’m gonna eat you. I would say that this roleplay was a total success. I felt so immersed in the scene with you.”

“Me too. I actually forgot that it was just play. You were so good in your role.”

“What should I say? You were the best.”

“All I did was whine and cry.”

“Exactly, you were the best.”

He giggles shyly, wiggling his arms. You snicker, wiping the messy hair from his face. Your eyes are spilling over in adoration for him. 

“Mommy, can I be untied? I really want to hug you.”

“Of course, Bunny baby.” You say, slipping off of him. You and he are talking as you free him of his gear. “I’m leaking everywhere.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry. I came a lot. I didn’t touch myself this week, just like you told me to.”

“I knew that you wouldn’t, you’re my good Bunny after all. I really fucking missed you this week. I gotta be honest, the handjob in the car was not part of my initial plan.”

“It was so hot, oh my god. I had to work so hard not cum.”

“I could tell, you cutie.” You rub the tender skin where the leather belts lied. “Are you okay? Your skin is a little red where the straps were.”

“I’m okay. I’m not hurting anywhere. Oh my god Mommy, when you put the ice cube on my dick, I actually cried. That hurt so much.”

“Did you like it?”

“So, so much.” He shivers in memory. “I’m shivering just thinking about it.”

You smile, getting off bed to get something to wipe you and him down. He lets you work while he lies in the sheets totally chatty and happy. You listen to him with a content smile on your lips. He always gets chatty after you fucked him right.

“And when you fed me the water, I felt drunk. Please do that again one day, it was such a turn on. The mirror on the ceiling is so hot. Oh god, I can’t believe you picked this room and, and made me look at myself all the time. It was so difficult because it was so hot. Wow, thank you so much for everything.” He sighs, smiling goofily. “I love you so much, Mommy.”

“I love you too, Bunny”, you say and lie down on your side next to him, rubbing his tummy.

He rolls his head to you, grins and flips to his side so he could bury you under him in a strong bear hug. He makes the cutest sound effects, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You laugh loudly, hugging him back as best as possible.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“You’re such a polite cutie, my Bunny.”

“I’m so happy.”

“I’m happy too.”

“Mhmm”, he kisses your neck and inhales deeply until he can’t anymore. Afterwards he exhales against you, tickling you with it. He lifts his head, giving view to his pretty, glowing face. “Should we get room service and watch a movie?”

“I would love that. Also, this hotel offers a really cool couples spa treatment.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I read about it and knew I had to tell you once you’re with me again.”

“We have this room till tomorrow right?”

“Yup. Wanna book the treatment?”

“Yes please”, he says and squeaks as he hugs you tighter in another surge of love. “I love staycations with you so much, Mommy love.”

“I love them too, Bunny love.”

[hotshotsxyz]

i might be a little stupid (but it's okay, you are too)

(buddie) (1.2k words) i have nothing to say for myself idk

The way Maddie says it, it kind of sounds like she thinks it should be obvious. It’s not obvious. It’s not even true, actually, because if it’s true then Eddie has no idea what to do with it. And he can’t—Buck is the stability in his life. He’s the anchor, the foundation, the crossbeam that keeps the roof from collapsing in the wind. So it’s not true. He says as much to Maddie.

“You’re both—” Maddie cuts herself off with a frustrated noise. “I should have listened to Howie. You’re both impossible.”

Eddie shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know what you want me to say, he’s not.”

Maddie sighs. “He is. He really, really is. And you—never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She blows a stray lock of hair out of her face.

And yeah, she shouldn’t have. Not because Eddie’s upset, but because it’s not true. Buck absolutely is not in love with him. He’d know. So it’s fine.

It’s fine until it isn’t, because a day later Buck is grinning at him like he hung the moon, and it’s so obvious that Eddie has no idea how he ever missed it. And he still doesn’t know what to do with it. But Maddie was right. Buck’s in love with him.

.

“Maddie, can you stop?”  Buck asks, nearly sloshing the wine out of his glass as he gestures. “It was funny, the first couple of times, but—”

“I wasn’t joking!” Maddie interrupts him. She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Why are you like this?”

“Me!” Buck exclaims. “You’re the one insinuating things.”

Maddie blinks at him. “Buck. I’m not insinuating anything. I’m telling you. He’s in love with you.”

Buck throws his head back dramatically, knocking it into the cabinets. Ow. “Did Chimney put you up to this? Is this his idea of a prank, because—”

Maddie drops her head to the counter, burying her face in her arms. “No,” she says, muffled by the fabric of her sweater.

Buck rolls his eyes. “Sure,” he says. Eddie isn’t in love with him, obviously. He’d know. So it’s fine.

.

Buck keeps looking at him. And that’s not abnormal, necessarily, but now that Eddie’s paying attention, he’s starting to notice it happens a lot. Buck, catching his eye when he walks into the room. Buck, glancing at him before he does anything at a scene. Buck, making eye contact any time he finds something funny. He’s just—always looking.

And it’s not like Eddie isn’t looking back. He is, obviously, otherwise he wouldn’t have noticed, but it’s different. Especially right now, because Buck’s very clearly watching him over the top of his book, but every time Eddie catches him at it, he goes right back to pretending to read.

It’s infuriating and endearing in equal turns.

.

Eddie is always there, Buck’s starting to realize. He’s at his elbow on every call, in the kitchen when he’s making coffee, in the bunks when he’s trying to sleep. That last one might just be because they’re mostly stuck with the same sleep schedule on shift, but still. He’s starting to think Maddie might be right.

Which isn’t a problem, necessarily, so much as it is an idea that feels almost impossible to wrap his head around. It’s just—it’s Eddie. Buck knows Eddie better than he knows himself. It’s kind of hard to believe he missed something this huge. But—

He gets this look in his eye, sometimes, one that Buck had only ever really categorized as warmth, but that he’s now realizing is reserved exclusively for him. So, okay. Eddie might be in love with him. Maybe.

.

They’re going to have to talk about it, obviously, so Eddie drags Buck home with him after shift. Not that it’s very hard. He kind of just tilts his head toward the truck and Buck follows him.

Buck’s eyes are on him the entire drive. He’s pretty proud of the restraint he shows, waiting until the front door closes behind them to start talking.

“So—”

“I’m—”

Buck huffs an amused breath. “You first,” he says.

Right. “Maddie said something,” Eddie blurts.

“Okay?” Buck says, drawing out both syllables.

“She said that you—” Eddie swallows, mouth suddenly, inexplicably dry. “She said you’re in love with me?” It comes out as a question.

Buck’s eyebrows climb higher on his forehead than Eddie thought was possible.

“And it’s fine,” Eddie says in a rush.

“She—”

“Seriously, Buck, I’m not like,” Eddie flaps his hand in place of an actual end to his sentence.

“Eddie, you—”

“No, really Buck, it’s—"

“She said you’re in love with me!” He exclaims.

Eddie’s brain short circuits, just a little bit. He hadn’t—he hadn’t actually considered that. At all. “She—what?”

“She said you’re in love with me, and honestly Eds, I think she might be right.”

“Since… when?” Eddie manages to get out.

Buck throws his arms in the air. “I don’t know, you tell me!”

“Maddie told you I’m… and you believed her?” Eddie asks.

“Not at first, but I mean,” Buck gestures vaguely.

They’re in Eddie’s house, but there’re traces of Buck everywhere. It’s his handwriting on the grocery list in the kitchen. He’s in half of the framed photos that adorn the walls. Buck’s sweatshirt is draped over the arm of the couch, and he isn’t the one who wore it last. Huh.

“So,” Buck says, looking at him expectantly, “are you?”

“Are you?” Eddie shoots back, borderline hysterical.

Buck opens his mouth and closes it. Blinks a few times. “I… am I?”

“I mean,” Eddie says, mirroring Buck’s earlier gesture.

Buck looks around and frowns. His brow furrows, and Eddie finds himself wanting to smooth it with his thumb. “Eddie,” Buck asks faintly, “are we stupid?”

It startles a laugh out of Eddie, and once he’s started, he can’t stop.

“It’s—it’s not—not funny,” Buck protests as he fails to suppress a giggle of his own.

“No,” Eddie gasps, bracing himself against Buck’s shoulder as he doubles over in laughter.

“St-stop,” Buck honest-to-god giggles. His fingers fist in Eddie’s shirt. “We have to—have to—” Whatever he was going to say, he can’t get the rest out.

Eventually, Eddie straightens enough to look Buck in the eye, and slowly catches his breath. All at once, he’s aware of how closely together they’re standing. “Buck,” he says, soft and warm and—

He can hear it in his own voice. He is. He is in love with Buck and it’s absurd, because how could he possibly have missed that? How could Maddie have known before he did?

“Eds,” Buck says. His fingers release the now-wrinkled fabric of his shirt, but his hands stay on Eddie’s waist. There’s a sparkle in Buck’s eyes that Eddie’s seen so many times, and not once before has he ever thought to examine why he’s so drawn to it.

“I think we’re a little stupid,” Eddie breathes.

.

“Told you,” Maddie says, watching Buck as he laces his fingers with Eddie’s.

Chimney snorts. “That you did,” he says. “They would’ve figured it out eventually. Probably.”

Maddie shakes her head. “I’ve never met two people who were so stubbornly opposed to their own happiness.”

“Eh,” Chimney says, “I think they were happy. They’re just happier now.”

Maddie laughs lightly and lets her head fall to Chimney’s shoulder. “Yeah,” she says. “They are.”

[nyxwanderland]

♡ who cares when all i want is you?

character → gojo satoru story → angsty + fluffy at end, hurt/comfort, a bit of swearing, fem!reader, megumi calls reader nee-san, gojo and reader are 21 years old, mentions of hidden inventory gojo 'death' , gojo being a jerk tho :(  word count → 3.5k (my longest fic so far wohoo)

your ears perk up to the jingling of keys outside your front door, a sound of which you have been waiting for since this evening. the door swings open as you stand up from your place on the couch, turning the tv off which was used as a distraction to keep yourself awake, since it is way past midnight, to reveal gojo with a somewhat distraught expression on his face.

you clear your throat before speaking up, making sure to sound as calm as possible in order to not ruin his mood even further. "you're home…" the urge to want to talk about something that has been weighing on your mind suddenly dissipates due to the scowl your boyfriend has, plastered on his handsome features.

gojo doesn't answer and proceeds to shut the door and take his shoes off, sighing as if you are the last person he wants to talk to right now. you stand there, fiddling with your fingers, unsure of how to make him talk even if it's just a word.

"um, is everything alright?" you quietly ask. "do you want to talk about it over dinner?"

"god," gojo groans and it makes you flinch a bit, surprised to see his reaction. "can i have just one moment of peace? i literally just got off this stupid meeting right after exorcising a special grade in kyoto. i'm going—"

"what?" it comes off much more exasperated than you intended to. "what do you mean a special grade? and you were in kyoto? why didn't you tell me?"

gojo looks at you as if you had grown another head. "why? why is telling you necessary? do you want to interfere in my job and be in my way of everything?"

this. this is the very topic you were eager to express about just a few seconds ago.

"it's not about that," you explain, trying to keep your voice under control as megumi is fast asleep upstairs. "you've been leaving for difficult missions without at least informing me. hell, you're sometimes gone for a week long, no-contact tasks outside the city and i'm here waiting for you to get home without getting a wink of sleep, only to find out from yaga-sensei or someone else!"

you take a deep breath and slowly approach gojo's towering figure, your hand reaching out to hold his. you look up at his eyes, but they are shielded by his pitch-black shades.

"i'm worried for you, satoru," your voice wavers as a lump forms in your throat that is impossible to swallow away. "i'm scared something might happen to you… like that day."

gojo knows what day you are referencing. the day when he almost lost his life. but it was also the day when he finally understood what was holding him back to really become the man he is now.

he wants to understand your concern, he really does. He always pays attention to the things that trouble you and takes measures to free you from them. this time, however, he's having a difficult time in realizing that he himself is the root of your distress at this moment. all because he thinks (or actually knows) that—

"i'm the strongest," gojo states blatantly. his face doesn't express any sort of emotion right now. it's simply blank. a look you are not used to as you usually aren't the one receiving such. "i'm better than whatever i was that day, practically invincible—"

"satoru," you breathe out frustratingly as a plea to listen to you. "you get careless sometimes. you never know what's going to happen the next minute—"

"you know what?" gojo interrupts you, seeming rather annoyed with this conversation. In reality, that's not the case. he just wants this discourse to end this instant and talk about it later when he is in a better state of mind. before he can even process his words in his head, they slip out, completely opposite of what he was planning to say…

"you're just jealous of me because you will never get to my level no matter how hard you try. so why don't you focus more on your weaknesses and not project your insecurities onto me, okay?"

gojo brushes past you, knowing he fucked up real bad the moment he spat those venomous words and watched your, the love of his life's, face express how your heart broke into a million pieces, your eyes brimming with tears in the process.

you don't say anything, either to stop him or lash out at him. you merely stand in place and watch your vision blur as tears trickle down your face. a choked sob escapes your lips and you cover your mouth to prevent from making any more sound so gojo can't hear them.

little do you know, gojo hears you the first time. however, he makes no attempt to run back to you and hug you for comfort, since he knows he doesn't deserve to feel your touch.

☆☆☆☆☆

gojo wakes up to an empty bed, for the fourth time this week. It has been this way since the argument four days ago. you have been sleeping at the couch, not wanting to feel his presence at all. all you do is make breakfast for megumi (who is extremely uncomfortable by the silence at home) before dropping him to school and go to jujutsu high by yourself, occasionally grabbing a cup of coffee if you feel like it.

and gojo hates it. even though he knows he deserves this silent treatment from you, he is dying to reconcile with you, apologize and listen to what you have to say. every time he tries to approach you, you dodge him while not even sparing a glance at him.

"she asked me not to tell you," yaga says when gojo asked him since he couldn't find you. you wouldn't answer his calls or messages anyway, so it was useless for him to reach for his phone, leading to him asking the teacher. "but she'll be back by 7."

gojo sighs, partially in annoyance and partially defeat. he decides to go home as he was done for the day and wait for you then. he trusts you to return home safely by then.

until a loud thunder roars late in the evening at 8pm, when he was helping megumi with his homework, which you'd normally be the one doing it. it is an hour later than you were supposed to be home. a feeling of uncertainty washes over gojo and he begins to feel jittery.

"when is nee-san coming home?" the little boy asks. "why haven't you made up yet? you definitely did something wrong."

the man sitting across him at the dining table exhales in sorrow. "i'm going to talk it out today, don't you worry."

"i'm worried for nee-san only," megumi retorts as he gathers his books and shoves them into his backpack. "she's never looked this sad. she's doing that fake smile just to make me feel better."

gojo remains silent, feeling his heart sink even deeper every minute. he's listening to megumi but at the same time getting even more anxious when the rain outside starts to pour harder.

"i want to see her genuinely smiling again. don't you dare break her heart."

i'm afraid i've done that already, he thinks and watches the raven-haired boy go to his room. but i'll fix this.

minutes pass but there is still no sign of your return. your boyfriend paces around the living room, waiting for the familiar sound of the door clicking open. when the clock strikes 8:50pm, he grabs his coat and keys and dashes out the door after informing megumi.

he runs in the pouring rain, his infinity on so he isn't drenched. he hopes you are in the location he suspects you to be, a place where you usually visit when there are a lot of things in your mind. you usually go there with gojo, but the circumstances cause you to be alone, on the ground with knees clutched to your chest and your head resting on them, as your whole body gets soaked in rainwater.

gojo is confirmed to be right as he finds you in such a position. he looks at you intently, not knowing what to say. he slowly approaches your curled up figure before stopping right in front of you and crouching to meet your level. he doesn't realize he subconsciously turns his infinity off, leaving him drenched like you.

he quietly calls out your name, as if you'd break if he's even a little bit louder.

you had immediately noticed his presence when you heard his fast paced footsteps towards you before coming to a halt. you don't want to speak to him but at the same time you do since it has been four excruciating days of entirely no words exchange. you want to hold him, kiss him, forgive him. however, right now, it suddenly feels too hard to raise your head and make eye contact with his gorgeous blue ones.

the ones you'd stare at for eternity.

gojo calls you once again. "let's go home and talk it out, love. i don't want to hear your silence anymore."

your voice comes out muffled, partly due to your head buried into your knees and partly because of the raindrops' loud pitter-patter on the ground. but it is loud enough for the man before you to hear it.

"i hate you."

"you don't," your boyfriend responds in a surprisingly calm manner. "i know you don't. you still made breakfast for me and bought my coffee and left it at my desk. you still asked yaga-sensei about my future missions and watched over me when you thought I wasn't looking. baby, i love you as much as you do—"

"then why?!" you cry out, finally raising your head and standing up —gojo following suit — to reveal your red, puffy eyes and the tears that could've been mistaken as rain. "why is it so hard for you to communicate? why would you rather hurt me by saying things you don't mean than talking about how hard work gets? why don't you want me to take care of you the way you take care of me? why don't you ever listen to me?!"

you break into sobs, unable to continue yelling at him any longer. gojo does the best thing he could think of right now — hold you in his arms as you cry out all your feelings.

"am I not good enough…?" your voice quiets down, sniffling.

"n-no! please no, don't you ever think about yourself like that!" you feel his arms grip around your body tighter. you could hear his voice shaking, and you wonder if it's because of the cold or that he's in tears.

it's the latter. gojo could care less about the rain and cold this moment.

he buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing there. "i just… don't want to burden you with my problems all the time. i'm always pissed off when there's a meeting with the higher ups. i'm always tired after missions. it's the same thing over and over again. and i want to be the strongest for you. i just can't dump all—"

he is cut off when you break away from the hug. he begins to say something, maybe for you to come close to him again, but you spoke up before he could, infuriated. "are you fucking serious right now, satoru?"

"…what?"

"i don't care if you're the strongest sorcerer in the world! to me, you are just satoru. i don't have any wild expectations for you to fulfill. you could destroy a huge ass curse, i don't give a fuck because the satoru i fell in love with in high school was a boy who loves digimon, eats sweets as his meals and is literally the most stupid guy I have ever met!"

"hey, I'm not stupid…"

"that's not the point! i mean, it is— oh my god, shut up!"

gojo may have said that to make you giggle somehow, as he usually does (yet miserably failed), however his heart swelled the moment you said the first sentence. he has heard every sort of compliment or praise in his life, but this is something he never thought he'd hear ever. for once, he is allowed to be satoru. his eyes start welling up with tears just at the thought of being wanted.

it's not that he hasn't felt loved and wanted with you, but it's finally the feelings being put into the words that did it for him.

you take a deep breath and look at your beloved for a moment. he's soaking wet, the ends of his snow-white hair dripping. he left his glasses at home, so you see those sky blue eyes properly for the first time in a while. his eyes hold so much adoration for you that it melts your heart; he looks just like a small puppy.

the corners of your lips curl upwards after what felt like forever, finally smiling. gojo's eyes widen at the sight.

oh, you look so ethereal right now. he wishes that he could be the every drop that cascades down your face so he could kiss the rosy apples of your cheeks with gentle care. then he realizes he could do that anyway and suddenly yet delicately holds your face in his hands, brushing his thumbs over your face.

"satoru," you speak up again. "you know what love really is? It's the art of sharing your happiness and sorrow both with someone else, without the fear of being judged or thrown away. just as you want to be there for me and protect me, i want to do the same for you. you are allowed to talk about how horrible of a day you had or about things that are stressing you out. i will anything that makes you feel better, just say the word."

"mhmm," gojo nods his head, squishing your cheeks while he pouts. "i'm so sorry… for everything. for not communicating and saying really mean stuff to you I didn't mean—"

you place your hands on top of his. "i know. i forgive you. but, i was hurt. i'm not jealous of you, dumbass. how dare you say i'm weak and insecure!"

his facial expression visibly turns into regret. "I'm really sorry, baby.

"and please, tell me when you're leaving for missions. even a text if it's an emergency. i don't want to lose you again."

now he looks like he is going to cry any second. "okay... i'm such a jerk, aren't i?."

"that you are."

"hey! you were supposed to comfort me!"

"nuh-uh. you deserve this one."

"oh well, i did realize it today when you left like that." he chuckles. "where did you go anyway?"

"i was here all this time," you bite his fingers and gojo let out a loud yelp (it doesn't even hurt, he just loves to see your victorious smile). "i was waiting for you."

"what if i didn't come find you?"

"i would've have broken up with you."

gojo winces and pouts. "that's so mean…"

a loud thunder suddenly breaks you from your little banter. "we should get home. we're totally getting sick."

"i'll make it up to you, babyyyy."

oh my god hi guys!! it has been a year since i've posted lmaooo i will try to post more now i'm trying lol but it's so good to finally get out of my writer's block and got to writing (i actually was very lazy to write but i had these scenarios in my head already lmao) borders by @cafekitsune <3

[eveningepiphany]

innocent | H.S oneshot

my masterlist

summary: while on the couch, harry ends up with innocent y/n on his lap, and she gets unexpectedly very worked up over his thigh being under her, and he does something about it.

warnings: SMUT! thigh riding, dirty talk, handjob (m receiving), best friend! harry, and a whole lot of praise kink.

requested by @shqtteredcrystql1

a/n: i absolutely love this request. thank you so much to the lovely user above who pmed me with it. <3

———

You shake your head at yourself.

You had not thought any of this would lead to you feeling so suddenly.. needy. But it has?

You were sitting in the lounge room of the beach house you were staying in, watching a movie with Harry while both parts of your family had gone out for the evening.

You and Harry had opted to stay back. The crowded bars being not your vibe for the night, and wanting to just chill out at the house for a while.

The movie was not long beginning in the background on the TV, with bags of half eaten snacks resting on the wooden coffee table— not that you could see any of it, as it was to the back of you.

It started when Harry and you fought over the blanket on the couch.

Pulling it off eachother just to be difficult, and roughhousing until he proposed a quick solution when your fingers started prodding his rib cage as pay back.

“C’mere— c’mere!” He rushed out, hands up in defeat as you technically won the mini physical brawl. Even though you know if he really wanted to win, he would a hundred times over, given his strength.

You went still and frowned as he didn’t follow up with a verbal explanation, and just held hands out for you to come to.

“Why?” You said, slightly amused.

“Because.” He stated.

So you moved forward to him, his hands coming in contact with your hips, and seizing you forward.

Bringing you seated in his lap.

“I can’t actually watch the movie, H.” You flush at your positioning. His hands still bracketing your waist like it’s nothing.

Which you’re confused why you’re reacting like this.

This has never happened to you with anyone else. Only ever with Harry.

And it’s not the first time it’s happened with him. You get big feelings often when he’s near you. They come out of nowhere, when he touches you gently during conversation, or when he flashes you a dimple in his smile.

And this warm feeling will swell in your chest, bubble down into your stomach… and sometimes further. It will simmer down in between your legs.

Leaving you with this feeling of being hot and bothered, in a completely foreign way.

Usually it’s only faint. A quick, fleeting feeling for you. However you’ve never had yourself situated on his lap.

His strong and muscly thigh straight underneath you— mostly bare, his shorts riding up to leave the hair dusted skin visible. His tiger tattoo hidden under you.

“Sorry, want to turn around?” He asks with a teasing lilt in his voice.

Your head snaps up from where you were looking at where your body met his— your pupils blown out a little.

Your eyes lock with his, and your reminded that this is your harry.

Your favourite person. Your best friend. Who has pretty green eyes, paired chocolatey brown curls that fall over them, and frame his gorgeous face.

Who smiles at you like this all the time, like you’re also his favourite person.

“Well i did want to watch 10 things I hate about you, instead of listening to it.” Your hands are resting on his shoulders, and he lets out a chuckle at your gentle quip.

“Alright, darling, let’s turn you around.” He laughs at you, rotating your body himself— handling you so that your facing the screen, your back plastered to the hard wall of his chest.

The new position evokes a flutter from your core, one completely unexpected to you.

And you’re hyperaware that there’s very little separating his leg from the sudden heat between yours, just a thin pair of sleep shorts.

“Better?” He asks casually into your ear, pulling the blanket to cover your laps.

“Yea, thank you.” You breathe out, sounding a little airy.

Your eyes find the screen, but your wholly distracted by his body.

His thumb circling your hip, the gentle breath from his nose hitting the back of your neck, and again, his thigh underneath you.

Your heart is stuttering.

You’re so— confused?

He’s your best friend. You know that, and you’re not sure why you’re feeling like this. If it’s normal?

Another concern of if he can feel it. Feel you.

The heat radiating from you.

You zone out a little, eyes locked on the movie screen. Eventually your breathing evening out for the most part, as you adjust to what was happening.

Focusing momentarily on the comfort of your surroundings. Harry practically enveloping you, the feeling of the couch pillows warm and soft around you.

The gentle hum of the waves crashing from the nearby ocean, sounding through the cracked open window.

Which the breeze being carried through it is just the right temperature, and just strong enough to have the candle flames flickering on top of he TV cabinet.

There’s a warm glow cast across the room from the array of candles, and salt lamp turned on in the corner.

Everything about it was homely, and comforting. And you tapped into the euphoric amount of bliss that surrounded you.

After a few minutes, Harry moved, shuffling his hips back to prop himself up.

His thigh underneath you dragging your thin sleep shorts along your centre, the pressure of his muscles rippling as he adjusted with your weight atop him causing an unbelievably pleasurable feeling to strike through you.

A whine slips past your lips before you can even stop it. The desperate sound filling the room, and it’s too late to take it back. Because you know he’s heard it with the way he stills immediately.

Embarrassment starts to flicker through you hardly a second later.

“Y/N?” He seems to almost whisper from behind you.

“God— sorry— I don’t know… I don’t know why that happened.”

He laughs, the sound golden and dipped in honey as it enters your ears, “Did you just moan?”

“No!” Your skin is flaming as you deny quickly.

He pushes his leg up to press into you again, and you purse your lips together as you try so hard not to let a sound out, or roll your hips instinctively against him.

You fail with the latter of those two things, your body pushing into his leg before you can even try to stop it.

“Hm, what’s gotten you all worked up, darling?” He let’s his hands run up along the side of your rib cage, and is admittedly very curious to what your feeling right now.

He was surprised at first, but fuck, your innocent little whimper has him feeling like he’s got a point to prove.

And he wants so badly to have you come undone under his touch.

“I— fuck…” you lean your head back into his shoulder, unable to form words.

His eyes skate down the profile of your gorgeous face, and further along your arched body.

“Want me to do something about the heat between those legs of yours, baby? Can feel how hot and bothered you are.”

“Harry…” you sigh out as you begin to give into the situation, “please.”

“Alright lovely, since you’re rubbing yourself all over my leg, keep going.”

You frown a little— well it feels good as far as your concerned now. But your unsure how to just continue.

“Here,” he turns you around again, and for a second smiles at your flushed and flustered face.

All the sudden the eye contact has you tingling again, his face enough to have you a mess in his hands.

His hands guide yours to rest on his shoulders, and then his own slide back down to your hips.

“Now, just keep doing what you were before hm, rub yourself on my thigh okay?”

He watches as you experiment with the movement, rolling forward on with your body and moaning at the sensation that it evokes in you.

“Oh.“ you grind against him again, harder this time.

“Oh—“

You clench, and he pushes his leg up into you with a moan from himself as he feels your cunt clamping around nothing.

“Fuck, y’gonna tell me why you’re so wet?” He grabs the back of your neck so you’re looking at him.

“I don’t know…” you whine, humping along his thigh. The thin fabric of your shorts going damp from your arousal.

“Your thighs. Your hands. You.” You speculate aloud, watching his pupils blow out with desire.

“My thigh under your cunt get you all worked up?”

“Yes— yes!” You groan out, jaw falling lax as your clit gets caught just right between the shorts and his thigh.

“Baby, take the shorts off. Wanna feel y’soak onto my leg.”

You hardly hear him, still pushing onto him until he physically has to lift you up.

He chuckles as you whine at the absence of contact.

“Tell me, Y/N, Is this okay?” He confirms, pulling your leg from in between his, so now you’re laying practically bridal style in his arms.

“Please. Take them off.” You nod eagerly, back arching in his hold.

He laughs, hair falling again across his brow.

“Let me savour this okay. Look too pretty for your own good.” He mumbles, leaning down to let his lips meet the skin of your neck.

You groan as he sucks the skin into his mouth, and his hand skates up the hem of your shirt, running between the valley of your braless breasts.

“If you need to stop,” he licks over the skin on your neck he was just abusing with his teeth, “let me know, love.”

“I won’t, please keep going…”

You hiss as his hand wraps around your tit, letting his finger tweak the peak of your nipple before running it back down, past your belly button to settle between your still covered pussy.

“Where were we,” he hums gently, rubbing you over your soaked through shorts.

“Off, Harry, please.” Your sentences weren’t properly formed, and you scraped your nails down the muscle of his tattooed bicep.

“God, listen to you. Can you hear how whiney your pretty voice sounds?”

He says it in such a way it sounds like a compliment. The typical connotation of whiney being negative. But he says it like you’re an angel for it.

He peels your shorts down your legs, and audibly groans at the sight of your naked cunt in front of him.

“I should’ve known you didn’t even have a pair of panties on.” He gently taps over your bare clit, and the light touch still has you squirming.

He rubs you a little, allowing the pads of his fingers to tease your entrance. Not before man handling you back on top of his thigh.

Your blindsided by how amazing everything feels.

“Alright darling, use me. Grind that wet little cunt on my thigh to get off.” His words have you fluttering around nothing, and him feeling your bare entrance clenching atop his skin makes his already hard cock twitch beneath the waistband of his shorts.

His hand comes down to palm over himself, delivering a gentle squeeze to try and relieve some of the pressure down there.

You pant as you resume a relatively fast pace, aided by the fact your arousal is dampening his leg. Making it easier to slide yourself on.

“Mmm, god. It feels so good!” You moan out, hands coming to his shoulders to brace yourself.

“So does your pussy on my leg, baby. You’re so wet for me. Who would have thought my little Y/N would get so worked up over sitting on my thigh of all things.” He praises, hands coming to cup the swell of your ass

“No one’s ever— fuck— made me feel like this.” You cry, the stimulation along your clit euphoric.

“Ever, huh?”

You nod, “Ever.”

He could just moan at the thought. That his sweet thing is completely foreign to sexual experiences with other people. That you got all wet on his thigh and had no idea why.

The idea that you weren’t sure why you were trying so hard not to push your pussy onto him. And that you’re probably so sensitive down there, so reactive.

That last one has him struggling not to place you on that coffee table and fuck your hole with his tongue.

He only held back because the sight of your riding his thigh was indescribably hot.

“Good girl f’me, let me help you, make y’come all on my thigh.” He hummed, pushing his leg up to add some more pressure on your clit.

“Harry!” Your pretty voice moaned out as his hands came to guide your hips, to push them faster and harder against his skin.

The control he was taking over you was enough to make you almost drip. Because even if he was so gentle about it, it was insane.

He pushed your bucking hips down, and his leg up, making a delicious pressure that had an unfathomable heat simmer between your legs.

“I wanna come on your leg, Harry, please…” you’re pleading him, hips messily fucking over his skin.

“Yea, baby? My perfect little slut.” He tests out the nickname, watching as your whole body reacts with a quiver at his dirty mouth.

“Oh, you really do like it dirty…” he realises out loud, smirking as you moan.

“Look down at your cunt riding my leg, humping all over it.” He gently laces his hand in your hair, tilting your head down, “How about when you’re done, I get you on your knees and make you clean it up?”

Your mouth goes slack, and it’s baffling to hear such words coming from him.

Yet he could ask you to do anything at this point and you’re convinced you wouldn’t even hesitate before doing it.

“I will, I will!” You nod, thighs quivering on each side of his own.

“Cmon pretty, fuck,” he bucks into his hand that was stroking over his fabric-clad cock, “wanna watch you come. Hear you cry out my name.”

Your clit was pulsing along his now drenched tattoo, and you could feel your muscles tightening in your stomach.

The simmering feeling in your core that you had originally started with has turned into a pot that was about to boil over.

“Harry, ohmygod—“ you whined, falling further into his chest, hands coming up to intertwine with his hair.

He pushed his thigh up against you, and the pressure finally peaked, and you teetered on the brink of orgasm.

You were moaning into his ear, and he could feel your pussy clenching around nothing, waiting for that final little nudge.

“Good fucking girl, let it all go f’me.” He growls into your ear, accent husky, and the words zip straight to where you needed it.

You let out a loud moan of his name, nails dragging down along his shoulders as you messily grind through the pleasure.

He is groaning at the sight. Just as fucking beautiful as he imagined.

Your back arched, and he could feel your cunt pulsating around his leg. It was filthy, and he loved every damn second of it.

“Oh, god— harry, please!” You whimpered, your core jutting against him still, but now with slower more irratic movements.

“That’s it, ride it out on me love. Fuck.” He curses as you absentmindedly drag your lips down the column of his neck.

You slowly come to a stop, the stimulation too much for you now. And your panting as you pull back to look at Harry, and the mess you made atop his thigh.

You lock eyes with him, his hair is messy, and cheeks are flushed. You smile at him, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his also smiling lips.

You glance down between your legs, spotting immediately the glistening skin of Harry’s leg, and how his finger reaches to get a sample and bring it to his lips.

Watching, he sucks his finger into his mouth, humming at the taste of you on his tongue.

“Taste like a dream, my darling.”

He gathers some more on the same finger, bringing it up to your own lips, letting you suck on them.

“Mm, good isn’t it? Look so good with your mouth wrapped ‘round m’fingers.” He praises, eyes darkening at the sight of your lips sucking his long digits.

You slide off them, taking in his beautiful appearance again. How the warm glow of the lounge room light is casting over his tan skin.

You’re still a little muddled about everything that just occurred. And that the little crush that’s always festered in your head when it comes it Harry has just led you here.

Him being the first person to ever see your pussy, and make you come. On his thigh of all places.

“Thank you…” you flush, a little shyness coming out.

“Don’t get shy with me baby, just watched y’come on my thigh. No room for that.” He smiles, pulling you into his chest.

“Now,” he begins again, stroking the small of your back, “let’s go get cleaned up before everyone suddenly comes home to you still half-naked on my lap.”

You laugh a little as he pecks your cheek, “then we can come back to the couch, and rewind 10 things I hate about you and share some ice cream, m’kay?”

“And uhm, what about you?” You gesture to the tent in his shorts.

“Worry about that another time, alright lovely. Not tonight, that was all for you.” He confirms.

“It’ll just… go away?” You frown, confused— and a little embarrassed you didn’t know what would happen with it.

“Should mostly. Might still have a semi, since all I’m gonna be able to think about is what y’taste like. But again, you can worry about me another day.”

You shake your head, “i want to worry about you now though…”

He blinks slowly, “Fuck, well if you keep bloody begging me to get y’hands on my cock, I’m not gonna be strong enough to tell ya no.”

“Never, uh, done this before. As long as that doesn’t put you off.” You shrug, watching his green eyes flick between your hand and his erection.

“Don’t stress, darling. I have been pretty much about to come at the sight of you, I don’t think it’s gonna take much.”

“And for the record,” he rests a hand on your hip, “nothing could put my off of you. Especially when it comes to you touching me.”

You nod, slowly. Still a little unsure as you reach down to pull the waistband of his shorts from his laurel-adorning hips.

He lifts his hips so you can pull them down, far enough that his cock springs out of them.

Your lips parted at the sight, his flushed tip, with beads of precum seeping out, blotting along down his shaft.

His cock was as gorgeous as you’d imagined. Because of course a pretty boy like him would have such a nice cock.

Not that you have much to judge off, but if the smooth skin and the sudden overproduction of saliva in your mouth was any inkling… you would say he was perfect.

Your hand reached to stroke along him, noticing the lack of lubrication.

You put to use the gathering pool of spit in your mouth, and you pursed your lips to let some of it drop down onto his tip.

He had a whole body reaction as he felt your warm spit slip down the head of his cock. A moan sounded from him, and he sounded like an angel.

“Fuckkk, already spitting on my cock. Little minx y’are.” His eyes went half lidded, and he fought to keep them open. Just to watch your all too curious expression and your hands glide over his cock.

“Faster?” You asked, looking for advice.

“Squeeze it, baby. Then stroke it.” He directed, struggling to form the words.

Then struggling even more not to cry out as you did just as he asked.

“Y/N.” He hissed, bucking his hips up as you started stroking his cock with a moderate pace.

“You look very pretty.” You meekly stated, admiring the way his face has flushed and lips have parted all from your touch.

You speed up your hands, watching intensely as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth in attempt to control himself.

“My god, your hands…” He moans, arm coming to drape over his forehead as he rolled his hips into your warm hand.

You took liberty to swipe your thumb over his tip, and your eyebrows raising as his whole body shudders.

“To know you’re fucking my cock with your spit and your hand.” He sighs out, heat building in his stomach.

“Can I touch here too?” Your hand gently ghosts over where his balls are, and you’re not sure if that’s somewhere he wants you to touch.

“Fuck yes, baby. Ohhh god, I’m gonna come so fast.” He is moaning suddenly without care as you massage him attentively.

Dragging your hands back up to his cock, you continue to stroke and rub along him.

“Want to see you finish too…” you smile, also excited to see the way his body reacts when he comes.

“Cant wait to paint your hand in my fuckin’ come.” He pants, hand gripping the couch cushion near his head.

He can probably feel you getting wet on him again. Seeing him like this has you a mess.

“Fuck— any faster and I’m gonna come on your hand Y/N.” He moans, now his thighs being the ones trembling.

You fuck his cock with your fist faster, in awe of the way he moans out as his orgasm hits him.

Ropes of his warm come spurting out his tip, spilling down your hand as you keep up the pace.

Waiting until he whines with the overstimulation.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He shakes his head, blissed out from his orgasm.

Hazily taking in the way you lick a stripe up your thumb, where his come had landed.

You enjoyed the flavour of it, salty and overall pleasant on your tastebuds.

“Can I?” You leant down, wanting more off his cock.

“God, love— wanting to clean the come off my damn cock it tasted that good.” He praises you, letting your mouth gently slide over his softening dick.

You make quick work of the mess, and he remarks shortly, “fuck, gonna have to spend some more time later with your mouth wrapped around me. You’re like an angel.”

Once you’re done, you pull his shorts back over him and watch him smile, dragging you in for another soft kiss— regardless of whether his dick was just in your mouth.

“Alright pretty, let’s get cleaned up before you start grinding anymore on my thigh. Can feel you already getting wet again.”

“Yes, Harry.” You whisper, letting him pick you up and carry you to the bathroom.

———

[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

ZZZ Headcanons

Help this game has taken over my free time I love these characters sm <3 Billy Soukaku and Ellen my beloved

Nicole: has a not so secret hobby of bedazzling anything and everything. It’s a real problem in the Cunning Hares apartment, nothing is safe from pink rhinestones and stickers

Anby: cracked at rhythm games to an alarming degree. Can do a 2 person extremely hard DDR song all by herself

Billy: I don’t know how they did it but they programmed an android with autism. Has his own version of a skincare routine which is basically just maintenance on all of his tiny mechanical parts. Can also gain power multiple ways, including solar power. The apartment complex where the Cunning Hares live had a blackout once and everyone used Billy as a personal charging port. Nicole promised to pay him in Starlight Knight merch.

Nekomata: cuts her own hair and offers to do it for other people. DO NOT trust her when she says she’s good at it

Grace: did gymnastics as a kid which is why she’s able to pull off a ton of backflips and flexible maneuvers in battle

Anton: uses actual cement to keep his hair spikes in shape. Koleda caught him in the act once and instead of chewing him out, she decided to apply some to her own hair and now they’re cement combover gang

Ben: is completely vegan and loves chilling at hot springs a lot. Still sleeps with stuffed animals btw

Koleda: I’m making it canon right now Koleda is trans and you can’t do shit about it. Also has welding as a hobby and made most of her accessories from scratch

Corin: when not in Victoria Housekeeping Co uniform, is a Jfashion junkie. I’m talking super dedicated Lolita fits, menhera inspired clothing, the whole shebang. She ofc designs a lot of her own stuff like her bear backpack and is also responsible for a lot of the accessories Victoria Housekeeping Co wears (Rina’s bows, Ellen’s shark jaw head and neckpieces, Lycaon’s eyepatch and tail straps). She also has a massive crush on Ellen and is too scared to admit it

Rina: has a fur allergy and can’t keep animals around. Which also means she’s allergic to Lycaon. She has to take so much Zyrtec before clocking in but has such a good poker face that Lycaon has no idea. Ellen knows tho

Lycaon: specifically wears the heeled boots and has his odd posture because he’s self conscious about his digitigrade legs, he thinks they’re unsightly for a butler of his standing to have. He also tries to encourage Ellen to wear a long maid dress like Rina does to hide her tail.

Ellen: coincidentally falls into a lot of shark stereotypes. She loves seafood, has to constantly be fidgeting or she feels like she’ll go mad, and the kicker, she gets frenzied around blood, or if the thing she’s fighting puts up a struggle. Corin accidentally cut her hand while repairing her saw blade once and both Lycaon and Rina could barely hold Ellen back once Corin began bleeding. Ellen feels awful for scaring the already timid girl. Corin secretly thought it was hot and would die on the spot if anyone knew that

Soukaku: despite being a huge foodie this girl cannot cook for shit. Is also physically cold to the touch and during the summer her coworkers will ask her to hold their drinks because they’ll stay cold. Soukaku always secretly sneaks sips every time they do this to her.

Miyabi: has the worst sleep schedule known to man. Sometimes you’ll find her awake at 3AM and conked out by 4PM, other times she goes to bed at 8PM and wakes up at 4AM. It’s inconsistent and irregular and a gamble trying to contact her outside of work because she might not even be awake

Harumasa: GAY GAY HOMOSEXUAL GAY. Also pretty cracked at chess and other strategy games. Is also a major old fashioned guy and doesn’t own a lot of modern technology. He’s not into retro or old stuff, he just doesn’t like new stuff

Yanagi: her glasses are fake. When she was younger she needed them, but her vision had naturally gotten better over the years, so she now wears contacts, but for some reason still insists on wearing her glasses. Loses them constantly during battle.

Lucy: even though she was forced to play piano as a kid, she really wanted to be a sporty girl and play stuff like soccer and baseball. Now she has the freedom to take part in the sports she likes and watch them surrounded by the people she likes

Piper: insanely picky eater to the point it drives Lucy up a wall. Is also picky about a lot of other things, like how different fabrics feel, different comfort levels of chairs and beds, girl is a complainer and will always find something to complain about

Lighter: has a side gig as a tattoo artist, has really stable hands too

Soldier 11: has 5 younger brothers, a younger sister, and 2 older siblings who she doesn’t see super often. Has divorced parents who also liked to adopt, which is why she has such a huge family. Her younger brothers love it when she comes home and plays secret agent military with them

Seth: can’t drive. That’s it send tweet.

Qingyi: is outwardly dismissive of meditation tricks and hacks and tips but utilizes that shit in private ALL the time.

Zhu Yuan: shares the vegetables she grows in her garden with all her neighbors. Is also a REALLY good cook to the point people have encouraged her to potentially consider a different career path

Jane Doe: the rat girl has pet rats go figure. But in all seriousness she’d die for her little guys. She has a white one named Cocaine and a brown one named Tobacco and a gray one named Crystal Meth. She thinks the names are hilarious and every time she introduces the rats to other people their facial expressions are priceless

[mockerycrow]

KARMA (Soap x Fem!HockeyPlayer!Reader)

soap masterlist

summary; you’re a hockey player, but you’re also johnny’s girlfriend. johnny comes to a realization after watching you get into a fight. 1.2k words!

authors note; this is not exactly what i envisioned, but it’s what i wrote. enjoy :-)

[WARNINGS: reader is implied to be a buff woman, violence, light blood and gore, suggestive content at the end.]

You and Johnny first met at a pub whilst he was on leave. He saw you from across the bar counter, looking up at a TV mounted above the bartender and sipping on something he doesn’t care to remember. What he does remember is you. 

God, Johnny never believed falling in love at first sight and he still doesn’t, but holy hell did you stir something within him. Sitting there, back straight with your eyes glued to the TV, fidgeting with something circular, perhaps a coin, between your fingers. The way your bicep is bulging from the tight circumference of the short t-shirt sleeve… 

Johnny wasn’t sure what exactly prompted him to talk to you, he definitely already came to the conclusion that you were likely going to just turn him away but holy shit, he’s damned if he left without trying to strike a conversation. Johnny ends up tilting his head, downing the rest of his drink for confidence before slipping into the seat next to you.

That day, Johnny learned that you were a pro hockey player for the professional women’s hockey team back in North America. Honestly, Johnny was surprised but more so by the sport and not the fact that you played one. You told him you were visiting someone here in Scotland, a friend—helping them move while your contract was being figured out. The more you talked, the more Johnny assured himself that it was absolutely a requirement to know you on some level. 

Your voice captured his attention, your smile made his stomach tighten and bloom with warmth—even if he couldn’t convince you to go on a date with him, Johnny honestly would be just fine with being only friends. As long as he has a female hockey player in his contacts list, he’d be alright. You find out Johnny likes a bit of hockey himself, mostly paying attention to the international ice hockey federation. After learning that, to Johnny, he could see the way your eyes lit up.

Yes, you did agree to a date with this grinning man. Maybe quite a few dates.

Johnny found himself on his phone way more often whilst waiting with his team to be deployed. Constantly texting you, calling you, the whole nine yards. It earned him some glances and teasing from Ghost and Gaz, even his Captain—but he could tell his boys were happy for him. Johnny seemed more relaxed, laid back instead of his pent up self.

A couple months into the relationship, Johnny was finally able to file for vacation related leave. He was excited—secretly so was Price, as Johnny doesn’t really file for leave often—and you were ecstatic. It took a second to figure out arrangements, at the end of the day you insisted for Johnny to stay with you. Why stay in a hotel room when your spare bedroom is free? He was so reluctant, but you were so insistent with it. 

“I have a practice game in a few hours,” You informed Johnny as you opened your refrigerator, taking out two cold water bottles stuffed somewhere in the door. You let the refrigerator door close by itself, and you tossed one of the bottles to Johnny. “Was thinkin’ you could come and watch?”

Johnny grinned, his lip curling ever so slightly where it exposes his top gum near his canine. “I would love to watch ye practice!” Johnny was enthusiastic with it; he’s being truthful, he’s been wanting to watch you in person. Johnny spent a couple nights binge watching the recorded games you played in on YouTube, which honestly was a slight mistake. You are a good player, great actually—but it always stirs something deep in his gut. Something about you bodying another player, even if it warrants a penalty… Gets him hot and sweaty, honestly.

That’s how Johnny found himself sitting in a seat right by the glass, a few feet away from your team’s bench. Tension filled his veins, making his shoulders rise to ears watching you, your team, and the practice enemy team skate around on the ice. The sounds of shouts, sticks slamming against each other as well as the ice, the collisions are harsh. Johnny’s been watching you for a while, keeping his eyes on that jersey of yours and he’s been noticing you’ve been slamming into this other woman.

Before bringing him to practice, you gave him a rundown of your team's roster, as well as the opposite teams. You overall had good things to say about nearly everyone, a smile on your face as you point to different people’s faces on the league’s website. Johnny watched the way your face contorted when you got to this one woman, though. He understands most beef stays on the ice, but the way you spoke about her? Johnny could tell there was something that remained on and off ice. You told him she’s “female Tom Wilson” which made him wince a bit.

So, when he witnessed you collide with that woman for the third time in one practice match, he wasn’t too shocked to see your gloves fly off. “Holy–” Johnny swears, standing up from his seat. His hands shoot to his head, holding it as he hears shouts and whistles blowing. Your hand is crumpled in the woman’s jersey, both your helmet and hers missing. Johnny’s heart is pounding in his chest, his arms feeling heavy as both you and the woman slam into the glass right in front of him. 

He reaches forward and bangs on the glass, his eyes widening as he watches your fist make contact with her face square in the middle. Johnny winces as he nearly swears that he could hear her nose crunching under the weight of your fist through the glass. He’s not surprised when drops of blood splatter against the glass, but he still yells your name nonetheless. Part of Johnny is worried, knowing you’re against the woman who usually starts and wins fights, but.. You seem to be holding your own just fine.

Your fist pulls back and makes contact with her face over and over, blood smearing and snarls until a couple of your teammates pull you away from her by your arms. Johnny’s eyes are glued to you as your teammates skate you backwards from the woman, following the curve of the arena. The woman is on her hands and knees on the ice, a couple of her own teammates checking on her. Johnny just barely glanced at how there’s a dripping puddle of blood forming underneath her face because he can’t stop looking at you.

A feral snarky look on your face, your nose bleeding and bashed, blood dripping from your nose to your teeth, from your lower lip onto your jersey. Your left eyebrow is torn open and so is your upper lip. There’s blood splattered across your knuckles, which are surely broken open and bruised themselves.

 Johnny hits the glass, his heart pounding but it skips an entire beat when you make eye contact. His breath stutters in his chest and Johnny’s cursing himself under his breath because his job must have caused wires to cross in his brain. 

You look so.. Fucking hell. Johnny feels himself chubbing up in his jeans, a hot shot of arousal shooting down his spine. Your ferality is making his head spin and he shouldn’t be as turned on as he is from the way you spit a mixture of blood and spit onto the ice, being skated away and into the locker room, followed by your team’s medic and an angry coach. 

Johnny presses his forehead against his palms, trying to calm his racing heart, his lewd mind, and his cock.

🏷️; @soapybutt17 @microwavedcheetos @frazie99 @narcolepticduck @ch3rrykoolaid @glossysoap @thisuserloveshalloween @missborntodiex @indefenseofkara @mushr00mf00d @lieutenantlashfaz @fiveshotsofjager @queen-leviathan @eedwardss @spacelia @1117sblog @snoowply @live-love-be-unique @dumb-fawkin-bitch @abigatorchomp

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[ozzgin]

heya...!!!! Sweetypie 🍓🥧🧁.... It's me again, i want to make a request again...if you don't mind 😃.

Can you make a request regarding creepypasta with ticci tobby and eyelash Jack .Previous request for a creepypasta

Most certainly! Though my drafts are a mess so I’m no longer sure what the previous request refers to. ;-; Hopefully this is close to what you pictured.

Yandere! Creepypasta x Reader

Featuring Ticci-Toby and Eyeless Jack and a clueless reader that caught their attention. TW: dubious consent, gore and violence

Ticci-Toby

Oh, he really can’t explain it but you’ve tied his heart into a knot. His chest is tight and it’s almost as if his lungs struggle to get enough oxygen. You seem kind and he can’t help but daydream that he’s the subject to your friendly gestures. He feels like a spoiled child, drinking up every drop of affection, tipsy with delight. If only those doll eyes of yours looked at him.

He’s hesitant to approach you because his moods are so unpredictable. He’d love to shower you in adoration and spend the rest of his life protecting you from any threats. Then comes his rage and he’s tempted to scratch your face off for smiling to anyone else but him. Why are you trying so hard for other people? No one appreciates you as much as he does, (Y/N). Is his attention not enough? Does he need to hold your gaze in by force?

Suffice to say that Ticci-Toby can be extremely jealous and possessive well before you’re even aware of his existence. Unlike Eyeless Jack, however, he is very open about his displays of love and doesn’t wait too long to introduce himself. His impulsive desires take over any consideration he’s had regarding your safety in front of his mood swings. He can worry about it when it actually happens. Now matter the anger, he’d never hurt his darling, would he? It’s the others that will have to pay.

If he’s feeling particularly hyperactive he will begin parroting his reasons for your fated romance and why you were meant to be. If anxiety equates in, the narrations turn into regurgitated, repetitive questions stemming out of insecurity. Are you really certain you haven’t gotten tired of him? Truly, without a doubt? Perhaps you were thinking of leaving him? The interrogations culminate in desperate begging for reassurance. Please let him know you’ll never, ever abandon him. Otherwise he will have to guarantee it himself one way or another.

Eyeless Jack

You happened to be the next victim on his list. The creature stood above your sleeping form in absolute silence. You barely shuffled at the sudden coldness from the edge of the scalpel coming into contact with your abdomen. The blade, however, remained still on the surface. The hollow sockets were fixated on your unconscious face, seemingly deep in consideration.

He can’t quite pinpoint a reasoning to it, but your presence has caught his interest. On the bright side, you get to keep your kidney. The only caveat is that you now have a rather dedicated admirer with a less orthodox approach to his growing crush.

Jack primarily enjoys watching you from afar and leaves only vague hints of his presence. Which, of course, depends on your definition of vague. At first you didn’t make the connection between the people wronging you in your daily life and the mysterious packages you’d receive in the mail containing frozen raw organs. You had assumed some neighbor might’ve gotten some subscription for their dog and messed up the address. As the news piled up, often involving these particular people as abruptly missing, your suspicions increased. Especially after noticing that none of your neighbors seem to have pets. And then the love notes started and you nearly threw up next to your mailbox.

Jack is fidgeting like a schoolgirl upon seeing your reaction to his confessions. Could you be that overwhelmed by his love? It wasn’t a big deal, really. He’s just doing what he’s best at. He’s just glad to ease your life by erasing the factors that upset you. You don’t have to worry about returning his favors. Humans come with two kidneys for a reason, after all. They were made for sharing.

Now that he’s gotten his answer, he can confidently approach you. He can’t wait to get his claws on you. You look stunning from a distance, too, but nothing compares to actually feeling you. Hearing your whimpers of shy protest, sensing the increased pulse tumultuously running through your veins, observing your pupils contract in mild…fear? No, most likely just excitement. His spiraling black eyes (or rather, lack of) devour your presence with anatomical curiosity. If he’s careful enough, he might even play with you a little. He’ll be extra careful with his darling.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana HCs: Play fighting with M6

Julian

A duel, you say? Allow him to demonstrate his years of combat experience - oh you're stronger than he expected

Wait that's kind of hot

Makes no further effort to win. Does he pretend like he's trying? Yes. Have you seen how he fights when he's actually trying? Yes. Is there a marked difference between now and then? Absolutely

Oh no, you've pinned him again, MC, oh nooo ...

The only way to convince him to take it seriously is if you make some kind of bet ahead of time for something that you know he wants (e.g., unlimited quantities of caffeine for the next 24 hours)

In which case you will actually have to struggle, but you must bear in mind that this is someone who has survived so far on wit and the ability to make himself useful. He is not a combat artist

You have a good chance at winning anyways, only this time he's significantly sweatier from the effort of losing

Will absolutely try to distract you so he can get the upper hand (again, assuming that he's interested in winning)

MC, look over there! MC, has he ever told you about that one adventure near the strait of seals? MC, are you ticklish?

Asra

They are stronger than they look, and to this day nobody knows why because you've never seen them work out in their life

(it's the lifetime of constant magic use, it takes more physical stamina than you'd expect)

He's also got more practice getting through a fight than he'd like to admit to after spending his childhood on the streets

All this to say, they know how to win and you can tell

Except that he's not nearly as focused on winning as he is on finding ways to make you laugh and smile and plant a kiss wherever you're the most ticklish

Play fighting with them follows the following steps:

1) initiate fight

2) get consistently pinned into different snuggling positions

3) give up and snuggle, OR

4) alternate ending: don't give up, keep squirming out of his grip until he's tired of it all and

5) they grab the closest blanket (potentially out of thin air) and wrap you into an MC-burrito so they can snuggle you in peace (finally) while you wriggle and pout

Nadia

Hasn't done this since she was a child and her older sisters would challenge her to it. Doesn't know why you're interested in such a childish past time, but if it makes you happy ...

Hm. This is more fun than she expected

Especially when it involves lovingly pinning you and watching you try to struggle out of her hold

Actually, if you want to conserve energy, you might want to try adjusting your grip - like so - see?

And when it comes to grappling, you'd do well to shift your weight to the other leg a little more - yes, exactly like that

What starts as a play fight will quickly turn into a grappling lesson

Which is still plenty enjoyable, but it's not exactly what you were going for when you started it

No worries though. Your countess does enjoy a challenge, so improving your own skills will only serve you down the road when you initiate a rematch

If you get tired but don't want to surrender, tickling will work to get you out of her grip

Only do this with caution, as she will remember it and pay you back

Muriel

Play fighting with Muriel is impossible, but not for the reasons that you would think

To begin with, it's difficult to initiate. If you walk up to him with a broad grin and say "let's fight", he'll start checking you over to see if you've hit your head

If you run at him for a playful tackle, he'll just stand there unmoving and watch you "splat" onto him. You have strange ways of initiating physical contact and showing affection, but he doesn't judge

If anything he'll just awkwardly pat your head and then look away so you can't see his blush

The closest you'll get is by telling him you want to spar, but then he'll take it very seriously because it's important that you don't let Morga's training go to waste (and you should protect yourself)

He'll make space in the clearing and fetch your bow and his staff and set up some practice targets for you

By then you won't have the heart to tell him that that's not what you meant so it's going to be an afternoon of training instead

On the plus side, you have the benefit of watching him work out those muscles

Portia

Oh, now you're speaking her love language!

She is also very strong, but she knows that the whole point of a play fight is the fun of testing each other's limits, so she's not going to put all of her strength into defeating you

Unless, of course, you don't seem like you're giving it your all either

Well now she's fired up

Something to know about being close to Portia: she gets competitive very quickly and doesn't like giving up

The more she thinks you're holding back, the more she's going to push you until she's either found your limit or you've found hers

Play fighting has been known to devolve into a pillow fight, by the way, which begins with flying pillows

And continues with Pepi getting worked up and pouncing on said flying pillows

And ends with feathers flying everywhere while the cat subdues her foe (the now shredded pillowcase) and Portia spends the next two days picking them out of her hair

She will unironically shake your hand and say "good match" after

Lucio

He always starts off by taking it more seriously than is warranted

This is a golden opportunity to show off how strong and manly and impressive he is

Ooh, this is a lot of physical contact

He likes this. He likes this quite a lot

He thinks he can take advantage of this

All of a sudden he's completely lost focus (which you're lucky for, because unless you have a level of combat experience similar to his, he's got an advantage in both skill and enhanced arm strength)

Hey, if his shirt "accidentally" comes even more unbuttoned than it already is, that's a mere coincidence and he has no idea what you're talking about (though he doesn't mind you looking)

Oh no, there goes his cape too!!

And his shoes. And his jacket. You should probably call it quits before Mercedes and Melchior decide to play tug-of-war with his satchel and ultimately run off and bury it

Speaking of, the dogs will come running and barking if they think Lucio is losing and can't tell that it's on purpose

If his makeup gets smudged he'll pout until you kiss it better

[celaenaeiln]

Is Dick's tendency for self-destructive habits really as bad as some fics make it out to be?

oh interesting!! In some way, yes actually.

Batman (2016) Issue #689

Dick and Alfred!! The duo make me so happy <33

But anyway, it's weird that someone who's so effusive with his affection so often and readily "deflects a moment of genuine emotion." Which is also one of the reasons why Dick Grayson as a character is so fascinating because he's never what people expect him to be. He's like a puzzle box where every time you think you solved, you just opened yourself up to a hard, even more complex one wherein the process repeats on an endless cycle.

He's incredibly self-destructive in the way he drive a burning car off a bridge and he'll know it's on fire, he knows where he's going, but he'll do it anyway because the car has a bomb and it's safer with him than the civilians behind him.

You know what? I just realized he deflects intimate conversations because he wants to keep the focus on the other person. Since he was Robin, Dick has been purposefully neglecting his feelings in order to take care of Bruce's. Right after his parents died, he bottled up his sadness and sorrow because he was worried that Bruce would blame himself and he didn't want Bruce to do that.

It's always been "Tell me what's wrong, Bruce." He's been so busy raising his guardian, his friends, his siblings, his teammates, that Dick has sunk into the role of a performer - the spotlight's on him but the audience is the focus.

I didn't realize until writing this ask but self-destruction is just such a normal thing with him that it's become a part of his personality. In fics it's very obvious when he's being self-destructive or neglecting himself or etc because he's very aware of it but Dick in canon has just made it his thing. It's actually the Titans that realize this and yank him out of it because Dick has no idea what he does to himself.

The New Teen Titans (1980) Issue #28

The New Teen Titans (1980) Issue #28

He's not self-destructive in a way that he's conscious of it but his habits and his lifestyle don't really give him a choice. He literally works himself sick.

The Titans (1999) Issue #9

"Maybe it's too much. Dick --have you considered that? You're working Bludhaven, even joining their force, you still clearly intend to come here to Gotham every time he calls you -- working so hard you're making yourself sick,"

"No. It's not the newness that's the problem."

People are literally telling him to calm down and he's like 'No! I'm perfectly okay. This is fine, let's continue.'

And this isn't even going into when Blockbuster blew up his life and Dick kinda lost himself to hunt him down and make him pay. People understand that Desmond burnt down the circus but Dick was still connected to the people in that circus, like he used his contacts there to sometimes inquire about things going on Bludhaven. The people at the circus raised him along with his parents so killing them was like killing Dick's aunts and uncles and friends and childhood. What happened then and after the SA was catastrophic. To Dick self-destruction has just become a part of him because he aims for perfection in every aspect of his life.

Like Donna said, "He works with the Titans, on his own, goes to school, and then he works alongside Batman..." and so on. Usually people struggle to maintain even one area of their life like just school or family but Dick's juggling, his work, his family, his friends, his relationship, his teams, and is still on call for Justice League incidents.

Titans (2003) Issue #6

He literally dropped everything to come over and break up the Titans (OF WHICH HE IS NOT EVEN A PART OF RIGHT NOW BECAUSE HE'S IN THE MIDDLE OF DEALING WITH THE OUTSIDERS) and the Justice League full on fighting.

He's not self-destructive in the way he doesn't want to get out of bed or that he isn't clean, it's just that Dick Grayson is a machine. He's got ice in his veins and he just powers through everything. Everything he does has to be top notch, so sleep and social life and happiness can say goodbye because he's too busy for that. This is why the Titans are so important to him and for him because they realize this toxic trait of his and do their absolute best to yank him out of this bad habit because Dick certainly can't stop.

So self-destruction has become part of his personality but unlike in fics, it's conducive self-destruction. It comes from his refusal to feel any emotion that isn't for others because Big Brother Dick Grayson and Best Friend Dick Grayson are always there for everyone but the second he's asked to help himself or someone tries to help him, he flakes. He's the best at helping others and being there for them but he's allergic to getting help or talking about himself.

[gojo-mochi]

Softy I see you’re doing requests and I thought about it long and hard but the only thing I can think of would be sending Sabo a spicy text at a meeting >.> idk if you can do anything with that but the gloved man came to my mind

<33333

OMG I imagine it's a Meeting with Dragon too, a serious meeting at least. That requires all of his attention and focus…You can read this as a modern AU or in canon where they have cell(snail)phone that can text and send pictures etc

TW: Slight Voyuerism, Sexting

Usually at these sorts of meetings, no one is supposed to be on their phones, but Sabo tends to get bored when the older people go on long tangents during their spiel. So during the slow times of meetings, Sabo would secretly go on his phone under the desk. 

Pretending to keep all eyes on the speaker while actually just scrolling through Twitter or messaging you about how boring this meeting is. Dragon is the only one who notices when Sabo isn’t paying attention, but he doesn’t mind it since Sabo can pull his own weight when push comes to shove. 

You and Sabo were texting back and forth for a bit about mundane things when an idea popped into your head. You were getting bored waiting for him to come back home, so you decided to be a little cheeky today and send him a little bit of motivation~

You had to prepare your treat, so you left Sabo on hold for a bit, which he did not like. Sending you sad pictures of cats, increasing in volume with every minute you were gone. The latest sent picture is somehow sadder than the last cat. 

You come back to your phone notification going off, rolling your eyes at his antics. You text him to calm down and that you needed to go do something, while Sabo retorts back with that nothing is more important than alleviating his boredom. Then he quickly adds that unless you got hurt, someone broke in, or the house is on fire, then please feel free to ignore me until you are safe and healthy again. 

You smile at his message, sending him a quick “<3” and then posing on the bed to take a selfie. It took a couple of tries, but you finally got the right angle, lighting, and pose all in one. You quickly sent it over to Sabo before he sent another barrage of sad cat memes. 

Sabo, at the time of receiving that picture, had been called on by one of the other members at the meeting. They sought his opinion on the topics they had just discussed. Luckily for him, Sabo was good at lying and manipulating; he just sprouted out some fancy nonsense with enough charm, and mostly everyone would believe him. 

The other members all nod their heads and murmur agreements before moving on to the next topic. Sabo sighs under his breath and checks his phone, noticing that you sent a picture. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he opens it up without a second thought. Finding you posed on the bed, sitting on your knees with your legs spread, wearing only his dress shirt. Which was opened, revealing everything underneath in a tasteful manner, of course, a tease if you will. 

You were giving the camera a bashful look, making straight eye contact with the lens, so it would look like you were looking directly at Sabo when he opened up the picture. All your hard work paid off handsomely, as Sabo immediately felt his pants tighten. He curls his fist in as he breathes in heavily, trying not to show on his face that he has a hard on right now. 

Dragon silently quirks an eyebrow his way, but Sabo ignores him as he sees another text coming from you.  

“Miss you so much… could you please send me something back too, love?” 

The message was followed by a sad cat meme, almost causing Sabo to laugh out loud, but he quickly caught himself. Should he send something back? He can’t ask to excuse himself to go to the bathroom since this is somewhat of an appointment meeting. 

His heart started to pound a bit faster as an idea popped into his head: he could just take the pictures right now, under the desk, where no one would be the wiser.

So he does just that, slowly straightening out his back and flexing his fingers as he tries to focus on whoever is speaking. Sabo begins to slowly undo his belt buckle and unzip his pants, suppressing a groan as he shimmers down his pants to expose more of his boxer. He could feel the wet spot forming on his tip as he pulled down his boxer just slightly to expose some curly blonde pubes. 

He takes a few photos as best he can, just giving you a little tease of what's to come. He sends them over, and soon after, you reply with another set of your own photos. A shot of your chest, a shot of your dripping cunt, and one last shot of you playing with yourself. 

Sabo bit his lips hard upon seeing them, deciding to go even further as excitement and arousal started to heat up inside of him. He slips his gloved hands under his boxers and fully pulls out his throbbing cock. The cold office air hits his leaking tip, instantly causing Sabo to shiver. 

A member notices this and asks Sabo if he is alright. Sabo replies back smoothly. 

“Ah, don’t worry, it's just colder here than I expected.” He smiles at everyone and adjusts his coat. The members resume their chatter. 

Sabo softly sighs to himself and avoids looking at Dragon for the rest of the meeting. Still, he was determined to get one last set of pictures to you, if it was the last thing he did. He lets a few more minutes pass before going right back to his cock once more, wrapping his glove around his length. His hands were too shaky to get a stable photo, so instead he decided to take a video instead. 

The video starts off staring at the floor, slowly panning up Sabo’s leg until he finds the right angle to perfectly capture the full view of his cock. His other hand still on it, pristine leather now covered in precum, as he rubs his thumb on his tip. The precum almost seems to make the leather glove shine in the video, as he uses it as a makeshift lube. 

Stroking up and down on his length, his hands were trembling more and more with each stroke. Causing the video to shake heavily as he almost reached his climax, stopping himself by squeezing his shaft almost painfully tight so he doesn’t paint the underside of this table white. He cuts off the video there and sends it off, quietly shimmering his pants back up and zipping it close, not bothering to redo his belt though. 

The meeting ends soon after, and Sabo stays behind to wait until everyone else leaves first before he gets up. Dragon is the last one to get up before Sabo, as he gives Sabo a heavy look and shakes his head, murmuring to himself about how the youths of today are getting crazier with each generation. 

Sabo ignores all that, hurrying home to you, as he needs help cleaning off his gloves after today. And he knows what your tongue can do to help with that.

[thesightstoshowyou]

Sooo my Ghoul idea! So fem reader, the ghoul takes an odd job unlike his regular job with just killing people for money. A employer hires the ghoul and pays him BIG BIG “money” Caps to bring his daughter home safely across the dangerous wasteland. The reader is a vault dweller and so is the father who has outside connections so he knows who to contact and bring his daughter back. She snuck out to see what up top was really like, and to escape an assigned marriage. Reader is not so bright, basically a bimbo 😅, first time for reader, reader actually finds him attractive, cream pie, Dom Ghoul. Hopefully this is something you’d like to write! ❤️

Thank you for this request!! I hope I did it justice 😁🥰

~~

Over Your Head

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x F Reader (NSFW)

Warnings: Loss of virginity, degradation, thigh riding, a little of the Ghoul’s self-loathing, painful sex (that becomes not painful), nipple play, dacryphilia, spitting, creampie, copious dirty talk

The Ghoul heaves a world-weary sigh. “Listen, darlin’,” he starts as he grips your ankle to shove your foot away from where it teases his inner thigh. “Your daddy’s payin’ a hefty sum o’ caps to bring ya’ back in one piece. I don’t think he’ll appreciate me deflowerin’ his lil’ princess.” The last word is said with so much contempt even you can’t miss it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you whine, bottom lip protruding in a pout.

“Means you’re gettin’ on my last goddamn nerve.” The inhaler hisses when he sucks down a hit. Outside, the wind howls and rattles the foundation of the crumbling office building in which you’d taken shelter. He assumes the dust storm that kicked up and trapped the two of you here, alone, is some kind of divine punishment for his misdeeds. ���I know there’s some fuckin’ smooth-skinned brat down in your vault who’s dyin’ to fumble around with ya’. You’re better suited for him.”

The Ghoul watches as your disappointed frown morphs into one of determination. He can almost see the gears working in your head as you try to think up a way to get what you want. You aren’t used to being told “no,” that much is clear.

Never has he regretted taking a job more than he does at this moment.

“I don’t want someone from my vault,” you say as you move onto your hands and knees. Languidly, you crawl through the sand and he can’t help the way his gaze falls on the sway of your hips. He grits his teeth when you slide into his lap, the warmth between your thighs settling right against his clothed cock. “I want you.”

“Did ya’ hit your head on the vault door on your way out, sweetheart?” he questions as your palms come to rest on his shoulders. His own hands, rough from life on the surface and scarred from rads, smooth over your hips and slide down to cup your ass. Irritation shifts into bemused resignation. Admittedly, it’s been a long, long while since he’s been intimate with anyone, and the way you’re writhing in his lap chips away at the last vestiges of his resolve.

“No?” you reply, obviously confused. Pretty…and dumb. Though, he’s still not convinced this isn’t some kind of elaborate prank. Why you’d want him of all people—when you could have anyone you want—is beyond his comprehension.

But, here you are, apparently ready and quite willing. Who is he to snuff out your hopes and dreams, as misguided as they are?

Slowly, the Ghoul inhales through his teeth as one of his hands slides up to grip the back of your neck. His thumb brushes over your nape and he feels a shiver zip down your spine. “I don’t think ya’ know what you’re gettin’ yourself into, sugar.”

Already, your eyes are half lidded and hazy, your plush lips parted to allow for quick breaths. Desperate. Innocent. “Pretty please,” comes your tremulous whisper.

He’s going to make you regret every decision you’ve ever made.

The hand on your neck twists so he can gather up a handful of your hair. He brings your face inches from his own so his lips hover just out of your reach. A grin pulls at his mouth when he feels you test his grip, desperate to close the distance.

He leans in until he’s a hair’s breadth away, until you can feel his exhale ghosting across your panting mouth. “Ain’t no backin’ out a’ this once I tear into ya’.” Hastily, you nod and a breathy whine sneaks past your teeth. Your unbridled enthusiasm is going to be the death of him.

Or you.

The Ghoul’s lips crash into yours in a searing kiss. He swallows your sweet mewl and the sharp gasp that follows when he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip. The feeling of your hips bucking in his lap and the taste of your blood on his tongue rips a rasping groan from his throat.

“Get up and strip,” he orders. He releases your hair and lands a stinging swat on your ass for emphasis. You yelp but scurry away, apparently determined to prove your obedience. The slide of your zipper fills the small space and the Ghoul’s eyes rake over your body as the vault uniform is peeled away, little by little.

The clink of his belt buckle follows and it’s nearly impossible to contain his snort of laughter when your eyes grow comically wide at the sight of him. He palms his cock and slowly hisses through his teeth when you squirm impatiently on the spot, now as naked as the day you were born. Even from here, he can see the arousal glistening between your thighs.

“Come take a seat, kiddo,” The Ghoul says as he spreads his legs and slaps a thigh. Eagerly, you straddle his quad. He wraps a hand around your throat as the other settles on your waist. Slight pressure urges the roll of your hips and soon you’re grinding your slick into his pants.

“What would your daddy say if he saw ya’ actin’ like such a desperate little slut, huh? For a ghoul, no less.” As he speaks, the hand on your waist slides up to roughly tweak a nipple. You squeal and attempt to twist away, but his grip on your throat prevents too much movement. The Ghoul clicks his tongue, “I thought I said no runnin’.”

“It hurts!” You whimper when he turns the same mean treatment on the other nipple.

“Then why are you soakin’ my pant leg, baby?” The moan you loose when his fingers slip down your belly to prod your clit heats the lust burning in his gut. He snatches one of your hands, wraps it around his length, and uses it to stroke himself. The slide of your soft palm along twisted flesh earns you a strained grunt and the briefest fluttering of eyelids.

He watches you from under the brim of his hat. Your eyes are locked on the way your hand works up and down his shaft, your bottom lip glistening where you’ve wet it with your tongue. You’re damn near drooling at just the sight of his cock. The Ghoul has had about all he can take.

“C’mere,” he growls as he grabs hold of your waist and hauls you flush against him. An anxious squeak leaves you when the head of his cock nudges your slick hole. “Deep breath, sweetheart.”

You only manage half an inhale before the Ghoul digs his nails into your hips to spear you on his girth. Your pained shriek echoes off the walls and you scramble to pull yourself up and off, but his grip keeps you seated and forces inch by punishing inch through spasming, untouched muscles. Too soon, you’re impaled up to the hilt, your eyes wide and brimming with tears, your jaw working open and closed like you can’t find the air to scream.

“Fuckin’ tight,” he mutters, nearly overwhelmed by the death grip your hot, slippery insides have on his length. A steadying inhale allows him to turn his attention to you. “What’s the matter, darlin’? Gettin’ split open by my cock not what you’d hoped it’d be?”

The Ghoul tugs you closer to drag his tongue through the fat drops now rolling down your cheeks. Pinching your face between thumb and forefinger, he forces your mouth open and spits your anguish onto your tongue. This seems to shock you enough to draw a choked, furious sound out of you.

“F-fuck-stop-it-it’s too-so full,” you stammer, your thighs shaking like the shingles on the roof above. The Ghoul chuckles, dark and low, as his teeth find the soft flesh of your throat.

“I told ya’ t’breathe, baby,” he reminds you between teasing nips and licks. Your skin is rich like the food they feed you down in that vault, your scent lacking the taint of fear that comes from living life in the Wasteland. Good enough to eat….

Laboriously, you gasp, each breath minutely relaxing your cunt, just enough for the Ghoul to give a few experimental thrusts. The sound you make is distressed, yes, but now there’s something else there to, something akin to that desperation you showed him earlier.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Learnin’ how t’relax and take it. We’ll make a good lil’ whore outta ya’ yet.” Slowly, he moves your hips back and forth as he speaks. Eventually, you get the message and clutch his shoulders to attempt a few tentative undulations of your own. The Ghoul growls, his nails digging crescents into your skin where he holds you.

Soon, no pain remains in your vocalizations. You whine and moan and keen so sweetly, your cries filling the shelter and mingling with the wet squelching of your cunt. You find your rhythm and bounce, unrestrained, in his lap as your juices soak into his pants.

Pressure builds in his groin. The Ghoul can tell by the way your hips stutter and your sweet hole clenches that you’re about to finish too. Hastily, he pulls you against him, plants his boots in the dirt, and hammers up into you until you’re screaming all over again.

You cum a half a second before he does. You freeze in climax, your back arching, so the Ghoul must dig his fingers into the flesh of your ass to work you up and down his girth. With a growl on his lips and teeth bared, his cock pulses to paint your guts in thick ropes of ecstasy.

Long seconds pass as you both hover together in that liminal space of bliss. “Ohh…oh god…” you sigh finally, slumping, boneless. He mirrors your sentiment with a pleased groan that rumbles in his chest.

A hand in your hair tips your head back so the Ghoul can assess your dazed expression. “Fucked what lil’ sense ya’ had right outta ya’, huh?”

“You don’t have to be mean about—

A yawn overtakes your affronted huff. You move to scoot off his lap. “God, I’m so tired now.”

The Ghoul hums disapprovingly and maintains his hold on your hips. “We ain’t done here, sugar. That dust storm is still howlin’ and you got two holes left for me t’abuse.”

Nervously, you laugh and shake your head. “But, I thought…I just wanted—

“A big, bad man t’pop your cherry so ya’ had somethin’ t’brag about back in your vault. Well, I intend on doin’ just that and there ain’t no sense in doin’ somethin’ halfway. Not my problem ya’ bit off more than ya’ could chew, sweetheart.” A chuckle bubbles up from his throat at your horrified expression.

“On your knees, sugar.”

[winterspiderpurrs]

Tap. Tap. Pause. Click. Click. Tap.

The clerk sat back. She was a little pale, looking from the computer before looking over at the couple across from her. This has happened before, but .. normally not with such a public figure. Taking a deep breath before she spoke.

" I apologize for the delay, but there seems to be an issue. Unfortunately, we can not process the marriage certificate. "

" What?" " Why not?"

Pepper and Tony looked at each other and then back to the clerk. She cleared her throat.

"It appears that you, Mr. Stark are currently married. Looks like... 14 years ago?"

Tony sat back in his chair, processing the news and sorting through his memories.

" That was annulled."

Pepper nodded in agreement with Tony's statement. She had just started at SI when this happened. She wasn't high up yet, but she heard the whispers.

" Yes. I see where the paperwork was filed, but unfortunately, it looks like you did not actually sign it, Mr. Stark. "

Tony twitches for a moment before grabbing a pen off the desk.

" I'll sign it right now,"

"I wish it worked like that, Mr. Stark, but it's been 14 years. New paperwork would need to be drafted and submitted. We would obviously expedite the paperwork, no worries."

Tony sighs and rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands.

Pepper shakes her head and rolls her eyes over at Tony. Turning to the clerk, she offers her a smile.

" Thank you. We will be in touch."

Once Tony and Pepper get back into the car, Pepper hits Tony with her purse.

" This is why when you are given paper you you sign for it! God Tony. The wedding invitations already went out. What do you think the media is gonna say?"

" I'm sorry, Pep! You know that was a bad time for me. He signed the paperwork before, and I'm sure he will sign again."

" Make sure that he does. Cut him a check if you have to. I'll draft an NDA to send over."

Shaking her head, Pepper is alreasy typing away on her phone.

"Happy, get me to the airport. We are going to New York."

" On it, Boss."

Relaxing back into his seat, Tony adjusts his glasses.

" Alright, Friday. Get me everything you can on Peter Parker, contact the lawyer he used before. Once Pepper gets the paperwork ready, send it over to them. Schedule a meeting for when we land. Money is no issue, I'll cover everything. But get them to the Stark Industries tower."

" Contacting them now,"

Sighing, Tony closes his eyes and drags up the memories from all those years ago.

Tony and Peter meet in rehab. Which should have warned Tony off. But he was struggling in staying sober. And Peter? He was his ray of sunshine in that bleek place.

The omega was quiet, too skinny, but his brown eyes sparkled when they talked science. And they were both well on their way to recover. But when Tony was invited to a party. So he left the rehab and dragged Peter with him. Turned into a binder weekend. They partied and at some point found themselves in Vegas.

One speeding ticket and car wreck later. Tony was put back in rehab, and he offered to pay for Peter to go to a nicer facility, NOT where he also was. A month later, Tony checked himself back out of rehab, got his lawyers, and they sent out the paperwork. He was just thankful that Peter accepted, and he put it behind himself.

He tried not to look back on that time and move forward.

Friday pulled up an image from some social media page Peter had and he froze. His heart hammering loudly.

" Sir. I Think your having a panic attack. You need to breath."

" Tony? What's wrong?"

Tony just keeps staring.

There is Peter, happy looking, filled out, obviously older, a bright smile on his face. Arm around a teenager who looks close to 14 years old. And a toddler balanced on his hip.