#> the first time i saw dick i was like. huh. oh okay that's fine i guess

[inkskinned]

before you know about women, you hear that you do not need to love the man, just that you need to love him through his manhood. which is to say you have seen the future painted in lamb's blood over your eyes - how your mother shoots you a look about your father's inability to cook right. how your aunt holds her wineglass and says i'm gonna kill em. men, right! how your best friend bickers with her boyfriend, how she says i can't help it. i come back to him.

you learn: men are gonna cheat. men aren't going to listen when you're talking, because you're nagging. men think emotions are stupid. they think your life is vapid and your hobbies are embarrassing. men will slam things, but that's because men are allowed to be angry. if you get loud, you're hysterical. if a man gets loud - well, men are animals, men are dogs, men can't control their hands or their eyes or their bodies. they're going to make a snide comment about you in the locker room, about your body, about how you're so fucking annoying. you're going to give him kids, and he will give you the money for the kids, and you're going to be running the house 24/7 - but he gets to relax after a long day, because his job is stressful. the man is on stage, and is a comedian, and says "women!"

and you are supposed to love that. you are supposed to love men through how horrible they are to you - because that's what women do. that's what good women do. wife material. your father even told you once - it'll make sense when you're older. it was like staring down a very lonely tunnel.

it feels like something's caught in your throat, but it's all you know, so. it's okay that you see sex as a necessary tool, a sort of okay-enough ritual to keep him happy, even though he doesn't seem to care about happiness as-applied-to you. it is relationship upkeep. it is kissing him and smiling even though he didn't brush his teeth. it is getting on your knees and looking up and holding back a sigh because he barely holds you as you panic through the night. it's not like the sex is bad and you do like feeling wanted. and besides! he's a man! like... they're another species. you'll never be able to actually communicate, right. he isn't listening.

you just don't get it. you don't feel that sense of i'm gonna climb him like a tree. mostly it just feels fucking exhausting. you play the part perfectly. you smile and nod and are "effortlessly" charming. and it's fine! it's alright! you even love him, if you're looking. you could have good life, and a good family, and perfectly happy.

in the late night you google: am i broken. you google i'm not attracted to my husband. you google i get turned on by books but not by him. you google how to get better in bed.

the first time he yells at you, it almost feels like blankness. like - of course this is happening. this is always how it was going to end up. men get angry, and they yell, and you sit there in silence.

you mention it to your friend - just the once - while you're drunk. she shrugs and says it's like that with me too, i just try to forget and move on. men are always gonna hear what they want to. pick your battles and say sorry even though he's in the wrong. you play solitaire online for a month. you go to your therapist appointment and preach about how you're both so in love.

after all, you have a future to want. nobody lied about it - how many instagram posts say marriage is hard. say real love takes work. say we fight like cats and dogs but the best part is that we always make up. how many of your friends say happy anniversary to the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. if you really loved him - loved yourself too - you'd accept that men are just different from you.

the first time she kisses you, it's on a dare at a party. something large and terrifying whips through your body. you wake up sweating from dreams where her mouth is encrusted with pearls and you pick them off one by one with your teeth. fuck. you sit at the computer and your almost-finished game of sim city. you think about your potential perfect life and your potential future family. you google am i gay quiz with your little hands shaking.

you delete each letter slowly. you don't need to love him. you just need to keep going.

[leeknowlover99]

Heey, could you write skz reaction to showing off your nails on their pants (rubbing their bulge) trend? Thank you 🩷

hi sure, hope you enjoy ;)

masterlist

warnings: suggestive content

Chan

he would be so eager to do it yet get very shy about it. he would want to find the perfect sweats and spot where the lighting would be the best. when you hushed him and he accepted that whenever is fine he would get very nervous. “y/n” he would whine. “can we kiss for a bit first.” you laughed at him warmly loving how cute he is and climbed on his lap to make out. after couple minutes of steamy kisses and grinding you felt his dick get fully hard. “now we’ll be good” you cheerfully stated hopping off him and pulling out your phone. chan’s cheeks got super red when you rubbed him while showing off your nails to the camera. after you shoot few videos and were satisfied with the result he would pull you on his lap again. “let’s finish what we started now huh?”

Minho

“what kind of ridiculous trend is that” was your boyfriend’s reaction when you mentioned it to him after getting your nails done. “normal trend, don’t make a fuss” you poked your tongue at him. “please can we do it?” you looked at him with your best attempt of doe eyes. he chuckled clearly amused by you. “but that’s weird” he dismissed you again and started to walk away. you run after him and grabbed his arm. “pretty please” that was your last attempt. Minho did not say anything, just sat on the sofa manspreading and smirking at you. “come on then” his gaze darkened. you became unsure after his sudden demeanor change. “what, are you shy now baby?” he teased. “come here and touch me.”

Changbin

he would be totally chill about it. “ yeah sure. do you want to do it now? i have my sweats on” he answered calmly, not a sight of emotion on his face. he surprised you but you quickly rushed to do it since he agreed. “yes, can you sit here?” you pointed at the chair next to the window where lighting would be good. he followed your instructions and sat down. you crouched beside him and pulled out your phone to start recording. first you tested the angle, rubbing him lightly to get him hard. “can you spread your legs a bit?” you asked. Changbin smirked at you. “are you having fun?” you asked. “oh i’m definitely enjoying myself princess”

Hyunjin

“no baby, no way.” he immediately protested. “why not?”you asked. you kind of expected that answer and didn’t want to push him. “it’s just weird and awkward, i don’t think i would feel good about it.” you nodded a bit sad but respecting his choice. he must’ve seen that because he immediately wanted to cheer you up. “besides you know that if you wanted to touch my dick so bad you could’ve just asked love” he muttered pulling you on his lap. you blushed but did not have any time to respond as he pulled you in for the kiss. it was sweet and soft at first but quickly became heated. you were messily making out, hands exploring each other bodies and hips grinding. Hyunjin broke the kiss and looked at you panting “you know what? fuck it. let’s do the trend.”

Felix

“oh my gosh! i wanted to ask you about that trend but didn’t think you would like it!” he exclaimed after you asked. your boyfriend was always up to date with tik tok trends. “do you want to do that now? i’m ready!” he winked at you, excitement lighting up his face. “maybe next week after i get my nails done again. now they aren’t looking as good anymore.” you proposed and saw him start sulking immediately. “ahhh a week is such a long time.” he pulled you into the hug and looked at you with doe eyes. how could you resist him. “okay fine. i guess we can do it twice.” you laughed and kissed him.

Jisung

his eyes widened when you asked him. he looked at you innocently. “so you want to show your nails by touching me?” he seemed confused. you showed him few videos and he got the point. “okay. we can do it if you want.” he agreed. you kissed him softly “thank youuu.” “but i’m not sure if it will come good, i don’t know, i’m kinda shy.” he giggled ears a bit red when he sat on your bed and you started touching him. “just relax jagi, it looks great.” you reassured him while filming watching him get frustrated and hard by your slightest touch. so cute.

Seungmin

“are you crazy? no way.” he cut you off immediately. “but baby, why not?” you sulked, you really wanted to film that trend. “that’s cringe. and what if my mum sees that?” he made a good point. “fine. we can just post it on the anonymous account.” you proposed. by the look on his face you already knew the answer. “still a no. what if someone still recognizes us?” he asked. “but why would someone recognize your dick?” you responded annoyed. “well i was thinking about recognizing your nails not my dick dummy” he teased you. you laughed with him. “come here i know plenty more fun stuff we can do” he smiled at you smugly.

Jeongin

“fuck that’s so hot” he said with the little blush on his cheeks after you showed him few videos of people doing the trend. “do want to do it?” you asked sweetly. “hell yes” he seemed even more eager than you. “come kiss me for a while so i get hard” he invited you on his lap. you kissed him passionately, his tongue immediately finding yours. kiss got very heated fast. jeongin was sucking on your neck and you were palming him through his pants. “bed now” he muttered against your neck clearly aroused. “but what about the video babe?” you brought him back to reality. “we’ll shoot that later, don’t worry.”

[vivian-pascal]

Snap out of it

dom!joel x sub!reader

summary: You weren't in the best mood and you give Joel a little attitude, he doesn't like it when you're being a brat, so he teaches you some manners.

warnings: slight choking, man handling, rope involvement, degradation, tied sex,piv(wrap it up), oral f!receiving, edging, aftercare, slight m!masturbation, some nipple sucking

You've been dramatic all day. Waking up with a stitch in your neck since you had rough night with Joel, burning your hand whilst making your morning coffee, your car not starting and almost causing you to be late for work. It was going to be a shit day and you knew it.

Joel knew too. You'd yelled at him earlier for not making breakfast at the right time. He told you he was sorry but you simply just left and didn't say a word after. Not a call, not a text. Nothing.

He hoped your attitude would get better through out the day but it seems as though it had only gotten worse.

You were sat at your office when you phone dinged. You picked it up and saw that it was Joel. You opened the message and instantly replied.

Hey baby, want something for dinner tonight?

No, thanks. I'll just have something quick at the office.

Ya sure? You don't want me to make some of my homemade pasta? I know ya love it.

No Joel. Let me work.

You slammed your phone down on your desk and went back to typing on your laptop. You sipped from your 'too cold' coffee mug and grimaced at the taste.

Noon. Only five more hours till you got home and had to deal with your Joel. It's not that you wanted to hurt him in any way, just he was on your nerves and didn't want to be disturbed any more than you already were.

"Hey! How are you holding up?" Margaret. The office gossip. She was very snoopy about you and Joel and she would always ask how things are. "Hi Marge, i'm okay, how are you?" You didn't look up from your screen as you talked with her, she wasn't worth your time. "Oh, you know, same old same old." You look up at her and give a faint smile.

"Everything alright with Joel?" Your smile instantly fades as you look down at your computer. You give her a quick nod as you begin typing once more. "Yes, everything is fine with Joel Margaret."

She makes a low whistling noise as she walks away.

A couple hours pass when you get another text from Joel.

Hey sugar, how's work?

Fine.

You don't seem alright, what's wrong honey?

Nothing Joel, I said I was fine.

Ya sure?

I said I was fucking fine Joel, go back to work.

Joel was fuming. First the yelling, then the attitude, now this? Oh he was going to put you in your place as soon as you opened that front door. He packed up his things and darted straight for home.

Finally, your work day has ended and you can go home and relax. You put your laptop in your bag and pull it over your shoulder. You've been in this damn office for far too long and you just wanted to get home as fast as you could.

You go to your car and start the engine. Backing out of the parking lot you take a deep breath and head for home. When you arrive, you park your car next to Joel's truck.

When you open the door your body is instantly hit with the wall. A giant hand on your neck grips tighter as It pushes you further up the wall. "J-Joel?" You choke out as your bag drops onto the floor and your hands try to pry his arm off of you.

"So ya wanna be like that now sugar? All confused huh." He pushes your cheeks together with his other hand while you whine and begin to kick your legs as to try and hit him in the crotch. "What happened to that little attitude of yours missy?" You grab onto his arm and successfully kick him in the dick.

He stops moving and looks down at where your leg meets his crotch. When he looks back up at you, his eyes are black. He lets go of your neck and you reach down to take a breath.

He forcefully grabs onto your arm and yanks you from the wall. "If that's how ya wanna be then so be it." He drags you upstairs as you try and pry his hand off your arm. "Joel let me go!" You scream as he throws you onto the bed. He silently begins to remove his shirt as he walks over to the night stand and throws his top onto the ground.

He looks over at you and grits his teeth. "Take that damn shirt off right now." He points his finger in your direction and you instantly remove it as well as your bra.

He unbuttons the top of his jeans as he pulls an object from the drawer. Your heart instantly drops when you see what he's holding. "Joel please, I'm sorry okay? I've just had a shit day, there's no need for this Joel please." He looks over at you and looks down at the thing in his hand. He shakes his head as he walks over to where your sat in he middle of the bed.

He sits down next to you and pats your leg. "Well sugar, your pleadin and beggin won't do you any good, too late for all that." He begins to pull the bottom of your pant leg up and grabs the top of your sock and slowly removes it.

He beckons for your hands and you pull back and curl into a ball. "Now darlin, don't be like that, if you would've told me what was wrong then maybe we wouldn't be in this situation now would we?" You slowly nod your head as you hand him your wrists.

He smiles at you as he picks up the object. You grimace at seeing the rough rope as it begins to touch your skin. He ties it around your wrists and tightens it when he's done. He slowly runs his hand along his work and tries to soothe the sore skin. "Good girl."

"Lie back f'me." You gently lay down and look up at the ceiling. You hear the bed creaking as he slowly crawls on top of you. He comes up to your face and gives you a subtle kiss on your nose. He moves down to your neck then your stomach.

You close your eyes as you feel his finger tips lightly graze the inside of your thigh. You moan aloud when you feel his hot breath directly on your covered pussy. He pushes his nose against the fabric and breaths in. He groans at your scent and pulls the fabric of your panties up. The pressure on your clit makes you arch your back and open your mouth.

He removes your underwear and licks a stripe up your pussy. He swipes his tongue softly along your folds as you try and reach for his hair. "Joel." You whine when he begins to circle his finger along your hole.

He brings his mouth back down and begins to lap at your cunt. He shakes his head side to side while pushing his tongue through your weeping hole. You look down at him and see that he's watching every reaction he makes of you. He closes his eyes as he begins to grind his cock along the mattress.

You moan aloud when you feel your orgasm coming on quickly. You writhe as he moves his tongue faster and you groan when he prods his finger along your nub. You feel the tingly feeling at the pit of your stomach. You arch your back as your about to come but, he stops.

You cry out as you try to reach for that electric feeling but it's gone. You hear a soft chuckle coming from the man before you as he licks his lips. "Good girls don't get to come remember?" You dare look him in the eyes. You whine and try to kick him off of you.

He crawls on top once more and grabs your face. "Do that one more time and you won't ever feel that sensation again." He looks you dead in the eyes. You can smell yourself from his lips as your eyes widen. "That's what I fucking thought you whore." He lets go of your face as he removes his pants and boxers.

You can see his cock, it's right there. You just wish you could reach out and grab onto it. It's leaking precum and just begging to be touched.

You whine as he begins to jack himself off. He tugs at his cock forcefully as he makes eye contact with you. He groans when you try to reach for him. He softly laughs and lets go of his rock hard dick.

"No honey, none for you." He crawls over you once more and lines his tip with your entrance. "You're gonna take what I give you okay? If I hear any of your whinin i'm pullin right out." You nod your head frankly as you can't wait any longer without him inside you.

He slowly inserts his tip and you moan at the sensation. You think he's gonna move but he just stays still. "Joel move." You beg as you try and untie the rope. He shakes his head and grits his teeth.

He finally inserts his whole cock and you whine at the feeling. He begins to thrust his hips at a painstakingly slow pace. "Joel please, i-i can't." When he hears your little voice, he gives in straight away. He hates seeing you like this but it needs to be done.

He begins to roughly impale you with his cock. You arch your back as he hits almost every spot inside of you. He brings his hand to your tied hands and pulls them over your head. He latches his mouth onto your nipple and you moan at the feeling. "Oh God Joel."

Your eyes roll back as he hits the tip of your cervix. He groans as you squeeze him and shuts his eyes. The bed creaks as he moves his hips faster. You can feel your orgasm as he begins to rub your clit. You arch your back further as you grind on his hand. You squeeze harshly around him as he whimpers at the feeling. "I hear ya baby cmon, your so close." His praise sends you over the edge.

You cry out as white fills your vision and your back is fully off of the bed. His thrusts speed up as he tries to meet you. When you come back to reality, you look into his eyes and bring your tied hands to his face. You gentle stroke his cheek as he thrusts faster. "Come for me daddy."

He comes instantly. His warm, hot, seed spurts inside your cunt. Filling you to the brim as it slowly pours out of you. He collapses and groans when he pulls out. He pushes his fingers back into your pussy as to keep his come inside.

He grabs your hands and unties them. He throws the rope to the ground and climbs back up to you. He lies with his head on your stomach as you cover both of you in the blanket. You gently stroke his hair with your nails and he groans at the feeling.

"Ya okay?" You hear him mumble from where he's laying. You smile gently and nod. "Yes Joel, and i'm sorry for today." He looks up at you and rests his chin on your belly. 'That's alright darlin, kinda liked it, means I get to do this more often." He smirks as you burst out laughing.

"You wish Miller."

tags!!

@iamsherlocked @pinkcrystal44 @heartpascalispunk @amyispxnk @livingonthehems @ursagittariusgirlfriend  @simplewanderer @tupelomiss  @heartramen @kotourasan123

[skylarsblue]

✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes, Again✦

Guess who's back...back again-

Ghost @ DILF!Y/N: Stop making me have gay thoughts, General. I look at men and I feel weird. I feel strange. It makes me wanna do things. I don’t like that.

(This also works with Soap, of course)

-- (Based on that one Avatar moment that set the fucking bar for me. Also, bonus random name of an NPC) Ghost: Oliver is the best sniper. DILF!Y/N, real softly over Ghost’s shoulder: …well I don’t want Oliver. Ghost, a man with daddy issues: Ghost, internally: HOLD IT THE FUCK TOGETHER SOLDIER, WE’LL GET THROUGH THIS

-- Y/N: I was gonna say that if in ten years time, the two of us aren’t married, let’s agree… Gaz: Yeah? Y/N: To hunt each other for sport. Gaz: T-To hunt each other for sport?- Y/N: Yeah! D-did you just agree?! Gaz: I thought you were gonna say like, y’a know, let’s get married! Let’s- Y/N: Oh! Oh. Gaz: I’ll be your Gilligan! Y/N: I didn’t mean- the signals-

-- Gaz: Sorry! I thought I saw a wasp. Y/N: Do you love me too? Gaz, breaking his neck: Excuse me?

-- (NSFW warning) Y/N: Like- no I know it’s bad but bro I- he makes me such a whore. Soap: Okay like, on a scale of one to ten- Y/N: I’d let him cum on my glasses Soap: ON YOUR GLASSES?! Oh it’s serious. Y/N: I KNOW

-- 141: *looking at knocked out Graves* Y/N: I’m gonna check his pockets. Alejandro: For weapons? Y/N: No, to see where he keeps the fucking audacity. Soap: *wheeze* No no, bad timing, don’t be funny this is serious.

-- Y/N: You wanna go toe-to-toe with me, pretty boy? Alejandro: Go for it.~ I’ll give you the first shot. Y/N: Better make it count, casanova. Alejandro: I never half-ass anything, mi girasol. Ghost: Oi, keep your pants on and focus, would ya?

-- Soap: Missed me missed me now you gotta kiiii…. Simon: Now I gotta what? Soap: Nothin’ forget it- Simon: No no, now I gotta what?

-- Y/N, surrounded by attractive men: Am I…a whore? Y/N: *looks at them* Y/N: I don’t really give a fuck, HEY TEAM-

-- Gaz: Why are you just…laying on the couch? Usually you’re up and doing something. Y/N: Can’t move. Soap: Why?? Y/N: *sits up on their elbows and allows their neck to be seen* Gaz: *gasp* Nooooo… Y/N: Mhm. Soap: Nuh uh. Y/N: König carried me here. >:) Gaz: YOU WHORED! Y/N: I DID!!

-- Someone: Please PLEASE don’t tell anyone. Y/N: I won’t! I won’t, promise. Someone: *sigh* Thank you. … Price: *doing paperwork* Y/N, busting in: CAPTAIN!! Price: BLOODY FU-What in the world?! Y/N: *shuts his door and smoothly sits on his desk* Captain you will not believe what I have heard.

-- Soap: I’m gonna stop listening to drama. I’m gonna focus on my training, be a better person- Gaz: Right, right. Y/N, popping in: Guess who got caught sucking dick in the bathroom. Soap & Gaz: WHO?! Soap: *falls out of chair*

-- Price: Be nice. Y/N: I’m always nice! Price: Really nice, not bitchy nice. Y/N: …you tied my hands but fine.

-- (With a random backstory I have in my brain for König) Y/N: How do you uh, deal with all this trauma? König: I call my mutter. Y/N: That’s beautiful, K- König: Call my mutter a bitch.

-- Gaz: GIRLFRIEND STOP, GET BACK IN THE CAR Soap with zero self preservation instincts: *sprinting with a pipe bomb* YOU GET BACK HERE!

-- Y/N: This entire team is full of babygirls. Gaz: Oh not that fucking meme- Soap: Full of huh? Ghost: Call me that and I will snap your spine. Y/N: Bring it! An honor sir! Price: Jesus Christ-

[captain-mj]

Can we get a cowboy hat rule one short with a shop of your choice? Or a part 3 for the stripper AU did Ghost finish thinking about Soaps offer of dating? 👉👈🥺

Part 1 Part 2

Stripper au!! I can definitely do that!! They fuck in this one finally

Alejandro threw open Soap's office door before closing it with just as much gusto. "I have a date with Rodolfo!!"

Soap smiled. "That's great!"

Alejandro nodded. "I'm so happy. Something must have changed his minds, but he's finally said yes."

Soap had a funny feeling of a certain Simon Ghost Riley was behind it but he didn't say anything. "Good. Where do you plan on taking him?"

"Nicest restaurant I can. I'm going to be woo him." Alejandro grinned.

Soap nodded. "Have fun dude! I'm happy for you." He watched Alejandro leave, going straight to Gaz's office. Once he was sure he was gone, he texted Ghost. "Thanks for Ale."

"It was mostly for myself. Rudy was upset he hadn't come back in a few days. Said I could pull some strings if he'd finally ask the guy out."

"Well, thanks anyway."

"Of course, Johnny."

Soap stared at the text message for a minute, trying to think of a response when Ghost sent a follow up text.

"I've been thinking."

"Made a decision?"

"You really have no ulterior motive other than getting dicked down. It's funny."

"No, no. Not just dicked down. I want to wine and dine you too."

Ghost took a while to respond. "You a gentleman, huh? Alright. Come to my office."

Soap rushed out and over to Ghost's office. He knocked excitedly and Ghost opened the door. His mask was up and he was in a dark green cardigan that looked oversized despite how big he was.

Simon was... well. Dorky. Soft. Always dressed in comfy but still dark clothing.

Johnny felt such a rush of affection for him. Simon lost a tiny bit of the confidence he had when he saw the lovestruck look on Johnny's face.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Being sappy. Do I have to take my shirt off to seem cool to you?"

"Nah, but I do think it would be nice."

Simon rolled his eyes and motioned for him to come in. Johnny did what he was supposed to and followed after him, grinning like an idiot.

Ghost sighed and locked the door. "Fine. I'll date you. Only because you've been so cute about it."

Soap threw his hands up in a cheer before quickly bringing them back down when Ghost turned to look at him. He got to see him laugh.

Simon took his mask off carefully. "It's okay. If you need to do a little celebration, I'd love to watch." The scarring. It look old, clearly stuff from childhood even if Soap couldn't think of a reason why a child would have a snake that close to their face.

Johnny smiled. "Nae, I'm much more interested in the bonnie in from of me."

"Bonnie?"

"Means pretty."

Soap felt his heart skip a beat in his chest at Ghost's blush. His whole face turned red, all the way down his neck. "Shut up."

"Aye? You're bashful?"

Ghost scoffed but he couldn't hide it.

Soap grabbed his cardigan carefully, not wanting to move too fast just yet. "You do look nice. Thought I'd say it in the Queen's english in case you had any doubts."

Ghost looked down at him and shook his head. "I'm already regretting my decision."

Before Soap could think of something clever or even something smart, Ghost leaned down a little. He kissed Soap's cheek. "Maybe you can give me the lap dance next time. So we're even."

Soap turned bright red and had to look away.

Ghost laughed. "Now who's a bashful bonnie."

Soap swiped at him and laughed. "Oh fuck off. So our first date."

"I was thinking right now. Coffee."

"This is why you're the man for me, Ghostie."

Ghost hit his shoulder but without his mask, Soap could see him blushing. Before they departed, Ghost unfortunately put the mask back on, fortunately though, he did let Soap get a kiss before he did.

Soap followed him like a moth to a particularly bright lamp. He sat with him at a coffeeshop and ordered his drink before talking with him for a few minutes.

Then hours.

Then it hit night and they were still there. Talking.

The poor barista had to gently tell them they needed to leave since the place was closed.

"Want dinner?" Soap asked, smiling at him.

Ghost nodded. "I could eat."

Somehow, they ended up at Soap's place. Soap was pressed to his counter, Ghost kissing frantically down his neck and chest.

Ghost picked him up by his thighs and put him on the counter, kissing him properly without having to lean down. He slotted perfectly between Soap's thighs.

Soap pulled away, putting his hand firmly on Ghost's chest. "Simon."

"Yes?"

"I don't actually know how to lap dance. I'd just sit there like a dead fish."

Ghost stared at him, almost unnervingly long before kissing him. "God you're such a loser."

"Hey-"

Ghost started to unbutton his pants and Soap quickly shut up. He closed his eyes and groaned once Ghost finally got a hold of him. He had been thinking of this moment for weeks. Ever since he saw those leather bound thighs and lovely abs.

Soap had to stop him again though and Ghost glared, clearly telling him he better not be making another joke. "Don't want your hands."

Ghost leaned in, noses bumping each other. He then threw Soap over his shoulder and carried him towards the bedroom. He dropped Soap on the bed, watching him bounce before going through his drawers. "Where do you keep your lube?"

"Bottom drawer."

"Good boy."

Soap groaned and started to kick off all of his clothing. He grabbed one of his pillows and got comfortable on his stomach.

Ghost looked him over appreciatively once he found his target. He got on top of Soap and pressed him down a little. With one hand, he pulled his ass up, squeezing.

His hands were skillful and patient as they got Soap ready. Soap was not patient at all, thrashing and pushing himself back and telling Ghost to please speed it up.

Ghost ignored him, working him open over and over again. He took the rest of his clothing off and set it on top of Soap's clothing. He laid on top of him and pushed in, holding Soap in a death grip.

Soap buried his face in the pillows and groaned. "Holy fuck you're big." He arched his back, determined to get Ghost as deep as he could.

Ghost put his hand on the back of Soap's neck to pin him and rocked his hips gently. "Thank you. People at the club certainly like it."

Soap's eyes flashed and then narrowed. He pressed further back and grabbed Ghost's other hand, kissing it. The two of them moved back and forth in sync, something just working between them.

Soap groaned and his body tightened when he tensed. Ghost pressed tighter against his back and, although he was quiet, he was right in Soap's ear so he could hear him. Small groans and curses.

Soap bit his wrist and he arched. He tried his best to be quiet, but Ghost was dragging out noises Soap didn't know he was capable of making. Every thrust or grind was in just the right spots and Soap was pretty sure he only lasted as long as he had out of the fear of embarrassing himself.

Ghost sped up though and Jesus wept.

Soap came hard, untouched and so flustered he was sure Ghost could tell it wasn't all from exertion.

Ghost breathed gently right next to his ear. "Good lad. Let it all out for me."

Fucking hell.

Soap closed his eyes and felt his cock twitch.

"Is it okay if I come inside?"

He nodded quickly and bit the pillow as Ghost slammed into him. His eyes rolled back as he started to get overstimulated but he wanted, needed, Ghost to finish in him.

Ghost wrapped both arms around him and buried his face in his hair as he came, squeezing tight.

Soap reached up and ruffled his hair.

[rrenzwrld]

secreto de amor XII

chapter 12! read chapter 11 here

you were excited about what happened with connie but you also felt guilty about it. you knew jean was overprotective over you with any guy but because his best friend would be involved, you didn’t know how different this would be. you didn’t know how to feel about the situation.

but one thing you were sure about was your feelings for connie. he brought some kind of spice in your life and everything with him felt natural, especially when you started to just embrace him as a person overall. maybe you were falling in love but you’ve been there before and the possibility of going back kinda frightened you.

“whatcha smiling at?” sasha asked while being all up on your phone as you texted connie.

“her man.” tia commented, which prompted you to send a death stare her way.

“man? you ain’t tell us you had a man? who’s the man?” you rolled your eyes before putting your phone down.

“i don’t have a man, sasha.”

“yet.” tia coughed.

“i’ll never have a man. especially after what happened with…” you couldn’t even really say his name, not like it deserved to be said anyway.

“who?” sasha looked at tia because she knew she’d have the answer.

“her ex.” she mumbled and sasha quickly understood.

“but don’t be like that! you’ll have a man, especially one that’s gonna treat you…not like how the other one treated you.”

“his name is gonna start with a c and end with an e…he’s gonna be funny and fine…he’s gonna—“

“t.”

“that’s very specific.”

“girl, we talking about connie!” you immediately shushed tia in case jean was somewhere nearby.

“ohhh! aww~i knew he was talking to somebody new, i didn’t think it was you though. cute!”

“we’re not a thing.”

“they kissed. tongue and everything. sucking each other’s faces off—“

sasha gasped. “oh my god…yall fucked?”

“no. just a kiss, calm down.”

“you saying that like it’s a bad thing. his dick little or something?”

“no, i’d just be surprised if y’all did. you’re so soft and quiet and he’s…he sells drugs.”

“okay, and? money money money~” tia sang.

“he’s cool and we kissed so i’m just tryna see if the kiss was a waste of time.” it obviously wasn’t because it occupied your mind for hours in a day but you just wanted to see if anything would come out of it or if you were just signing an invisible contract to become one of his throw-away hoes.

“evidently not, got you smiling at the phone and shit.” you threw a pillow towards tia.

“you got jokes, huh?”

“what’s going on in here?” jean came into your room.

“none of your business, why are you in here?”

“to let you know i’m going to the store and if you wanted to come?”

“so it’s just fuck us huh?” tia commented and jean narrowed her eyes at her.

“yep. you coming, y/n?” you nodded just to get out the house.

“you’re gonna leave us?” sasha stood up from the bed, pouting.

“no, i’ll be back. just take care of the house.”

you and jean went to the store to get more groceries because it was the first time since he’s been back.

you two were walking down snack aisle when you thought you saw connie with some girl and eventually you were sure it was him. they were laughing, giggling, and touching all up on each other and your heart felt like it was breaking into a million pieces. it showed on your face and jean picked up on your energy shift.

“hey, what’s wrong? you don’t like chocolate chip?” jean asked innocently as he held up a box of chocolate chip cookies.

“i’m okay. what else do we need to get?” you tried to shake the scene off but you couldn’t.

“umm…that’s it. you sure you okay?”

“yeah, can we leave now?”

“of course.” he nodded. the only time you rushed him was if something was really wrong or you didn’t wanna be somewhere so he understood. on the ride back, he did have questions but he knew not to bother you if you looked upset. so when you finally got home you went straight to your room but forgot sasha and tia were still there.

“what’s wrong? what happened at the store?” you shook your head but sasha and tia looked at each other, knowing something was wrong.

“you saw connie?” tia whispered. you were quiet so that gave away your answer. “don’t tell me he was with another bitch bruh…” you were quiet again.

“i’m sorry y/n…i can talk to him if you want. this might all be a big misunderstanding.” sasha rubbed your leg. you didn’t feel like crying or anything, you were just mad. his lil kiss started to get you into feelings you were kinda excited for but then he goes and have another bitch in his face? yeah you knew it was a waste of time.

“it is what it is,” you shrugged. “i just don’t think he’s for me.”

“don’t give up! maybe it was a cousin you saw him with or something.” tia side-eyed sasha.

“be forreal.”

“it didn’t look like a cousin. the way they were all up on each other.”

“were they kissing?” you shook your head. “at least that’s good.”

“yeah i just need to take a step back.”

“a few steps all the way back.” tia’s comment made you and sasha giggle before you all talked some more. after a few more minutes, tia and sasha ended up leaving and jean was knocking on your door.

“come in!”

“hey, you okay? you looked pretty upset earlier.” jean came in and sat on your bed.

“i’m fine. just a mood swing or something.” jean knew you were lying and was battling in his head whether or not he should ask you what he really wants to ask you.

“okay…i just have a question,” you didn’t look at him but was silent just to listen to him. “what’s up with you and connie?” your heart sank again but you couldn’t explain why if there’s truthfully nothing going on, at least not anymore.

“nothing. why?”

“i overheard yall talking about him. i just wanted to ask you just in case i misheard or whatever.”

“we kissed but we’re not dating or anything.” jean had to admit he was a bit bothered by what you told him but his priority was with you, not connie.

“okay then, just…i don’t want you getting hurt. i want your heart and mind protected and honestly, connie is not gonna be the one to do that for you. he’s my best friend and all and we’re cool but, you will always come first. i’ll always be on your side, understood?” you nodded in confirmation. luckily you hadn’t gotten that far with connie for anything to change. you hoped that outside of you, him and jean would still be friends because you didn’t wanna ruin anything for your brother.

[orbit-star]

Found your keys

Warnings: handjob,p in v, dick riding,dirty talk (kinda?)

“Yeah I’m almost to his house so I gotta go.” I said into my phone,my bsf being on the other end.

“Damn,you really gonna ditch me for your coworker? Okay,bye!” She laughed before hanging up.

I jokingly made a shocked face and placed my phone in my pocket as I continued walking to Alex’s house.

Alex was my best friend,I’ve been friends with him since high school type of best friend. Our entire friendship I was making bets on who would get a job first. He did,but he got what he what would take him since he wanted to win that bet, he’s working at a porn store. And when I told him I coy for finding a job…he offered me one. That I took.

Anyways,I approached his front door,just going inside since I always do that? Normally whenever I come over he’s in his couch watching cartoons and shit,but this time he wasn’t? I thought he was either in the bathroom or smth before I heard his footsteps coming closer to where I stood.

“Y/n?” He asked when he saw me.

“Alex.” I said in the same tone.

“Wanna go get some food?” He asked.

“Sure? I thought we were gonna watch movies today though?” I reminded him since that WAS the plan we made on the phone?

“Oh right,yeah we can do that when we get back?” He shrugged.

I nodded and let him walk behind me so he could open the door. He walked out before me.J followed him to his car and saw him struggle to open the door.

“Shit, I forgot my keys. Y/n can you go get them?” he asked.

“Why can’t you? Theyre YOUR keys?” I said,annoyed.

“Yeah but you’re closer?” He said.

“Fine. But I get to choose the song!” I said before turning around and walking into his house.

I saw him roll his eyes before I turned around,fucking bitch.

I ran inside and started looking for his keys. I looked in his living room,kitchen,dining room,basement,literally everywhere before u even thought of his room.

I made my way up his stupid ass stairs,finally making it to the top.

I started searching his room too to bottom. I didn’t find his keys,but I found this notebook that was nothing but plain black spiral notebook. So why not open it?

Page one.

“Y/n

I made a friend today. Her name is y/n and damn is she hot! She was wearing this crop top with some jean shorts that were tight at her waist.I had to ask to go to the bathroom to jerk off in the middle of class omg. Can’t wait to see what she wears tomorrow.”

Page two.

“Y/n

Today she wore another crop top and some leggings.She also wore a push up bra.I could tell because that was the only area I was looking the entire time we talked. When she was leaning over to write stuff I saw her tits squish against the desk.

God damn I wish I could see what’s under those tight clothes. If I ever got the chance to I would fuck her brains out,maybe vice versa too.”

WHAT?!

“Y/n?? Did you find my keys?” Alex yelled from downstairs.

I was too intrigued in this little diary to hear him. Well it was pretty obvious that he was a tits man.

“Y/n did you- SHIT!” He said once he saw me.

He immediately ran to take the notebook from my hands.

“ the ENTIRE time we talked?? Is that why you never made eye contact w me?” I asked.

“Just- leave it alone okay? I was young!” He said.

“No it’s fine? I have some story’s like that abt you too.” I winked before walking past him.

He just stood there with a blush as I walked back downstairs.I looked on the little table by his door and saw his keys.

“Found your keys!” I yelled

➬➬➬➬➬

We sat in his car now. In the back parking lot of a Zaxbys eating our food while my phone was on his dashboard playing some random movie that happened to be bombarded with sex scenes. Just randomly?

Alex was obviously getting nervous since he stopped eating his food after like 1 piece. I in the other hand,was enjoying this.

“You okay Alex?” I asked.

“Hm- yeah? Let’s just uh… watch a different movie?” He suggested.

“Or just do something else?” He added.

“Something else huh? Is there anything you have in mind?” I asked while leaning closer.

“Uhh- I don’t- you can pick what we do..” he sighed.

“You sure?” I asked.

“Y-yeah.” He said.

I shrugged and leaned in to kiss him.He instantly kissed back.I placed my hand on his neck to pull him closer,he put his hand on my waist. He got a blast of confidence and started kissing me with urgency and need. He moved his hands to my ass since I was leaning over the console. I pulled away for a second to breathe before I went right back in.

I felt his tongue swipe across my bottom lip,asking for entree. I allowed his tongue to explore my mouth. He moved from where he was sitting so he can get impossibly closer to me. He removed one of his hands from my ass and led it to his forming boner. He left my hand there and placed his hand back on my ass.

I got the memo and pulled away from the kids so I could see what I was doing. I pulled down his sweats and started palming him through his boxers. His grip tightened on my ass as I did this.

“Mmmm~ shit.” He breathed out and his hands fell from my ass as he looked down at my hand.

“Are you a virgin?” I asked as I slipped my hand out his pants.

“Hm- uh…yeah..” he sighed.

“Huh? Well that’s gotta change.” I said and pulled his boxers down, revealing his rock hard dick.

I started to properly jerk him off. My hand going up and down his shaft as his face contorted in pleasure. He was vocal, very vocal. His hands gripped the seat as my hand tightened around his shaft.

“F-fuck!” He yelled and threw his head against the window.

With his head thrown back,rhat gave me access to his neck. So I instantly attached my lips to his neck while jerking him off. He was in heaven.

His hands moved from clutching the seat and to my waist. So I pulled away.

“No no, not yet.” I applied that rule before I dove back down to his neck,my hand tightening around his shaft again.

“Shit I’m gonna- fuck!” He yelled out.

I removed my hand.

“No- no why’d you stop?” He asked,panicked.

I didn’t say anything. I just crawled over the console and into his lap. I then pulled my pants down to my knees and moved my panties to the side. Then I slid him in.

“SHIT-“ he moaned.

I immediately started moving,up and down, front and back. And he was enjoying it all.

“Ohh~ “ he moaned as he brought his eyes to mine.

I smiled at him before purposefully tightening around him and moving faster.

“AGH- FUCK!” He moaned as I felt a warm liquid fill me.

After making sure he was completely finished,I crawled off of him and pulled my pants back up,then I crawled back into the passenger seat and continued eating my food.

[spookiestheadcanons]

Trans Roy headcanons!

FtM - Roy trans boy

Roy actually chose Reynold as his name at first because it sounded cool, but when someone called him Roy for the first time he straight up thought "alright, that's WAY cooler!!"

Not a surprise, actually

Not even his mother got surprised when he called himself a boy for the first time

"You're not... mad, or anything? Like... surprised?"

"Oh please, did you EVER saw your clothes? You don't have a SINGLE dress! It was just a matter of time."

He had no idea if that was supposed to make him feel supported or not... well, if she's okay than that's fine I guess

Sadly he now had to wear suits because Carmen don't really care about her kid's gender, just if they're properly dressed or perfect

Roy felt a massive gender euphoria when he got a suit on the first time but it felt SO uncomfortable and SO stupid that he already disliked it on the same day

Meanwhile with Ross and Robert?

Roy already had discovered himself so they always saw him as a boy

And if they know if he's trans? No. Absolutely not.

Roy don't even need to tell them, he honestly don't know why he should and it doesn't make any difference

MtF - Trans girl Roy

Kinda surprising since he just discovered between his 13/14, Carmen and Richard were the ones who needed a bit more of time to get used to

His mother always wondered why the heck her eyeliner was ending so quickly

Ross and Robert supported right away but in their own ways

"A girl? Oh, makes sense." "What do you mean by that?" "Cool, now both you and your mom are hot women." "HUH."

Cool girls use all pronouns

Officially changed her name to Roy and WILL get mad at you if you call her Reynold

When she got her first "feminine" clothes she got SO. HAPPY.

Gender euphoria hell yea

Transphobia has a total of zero effects

"Why don't you just shut up and suck my dick?" "Aren't you a girl?" "Suck my girl dick"

Kinda sucks now having to wear dresses and "always be polite and feminine" because of their mom but atleast they're accepted

[lexinympho]

Stifling Ravishment

[NSFW, MDNI]

Takami Keigo x gn!reader

Summary: You convince Keigo to let you try something new on him in the bedroom, Keigo obliges at the promise of a good time.

WC: 2.4k

Tags/Warnings: A bit of fluff, smut (overstimulation, handjob, edging, oral male receiving, dry orgasm, sounding kink [pls practice this safely], slight sub Keigo + dom reader), one mention of pee and UTIs

A/N: This one's been brewing in my mind and burning a hole in my drafts for a few months now, and I finally decided to finish it up. I don't see enough rep for this kink, so of course I had to write about it myself-

"Oh fuck me..."

"That's technically what I'm doing, bird boy."

The intensity of the glare you received from the winged man was severely diminished by his current demeanor.

Your hold on Keigo's flushed and half erect dick remains intact. One hand is wrapped around his member while the other is gloved and immobile, keeping the silicone sound in place as he adjusts to the foreign intrusion. His knuckles are white as the sheet he's clinging to for some semblance of respite while his chest is glossed over with sweat from his heavy breathing. You don't bother hiding your delightment for his vulnerable state, internally laughing to yourself thinking of the change between now and earlier when he said he could handle this with ease.

He at first displayed bravado when he confidently agreed to do this, but you knew better and saw the hesitance lingering underneath once he got undressed. The research and mere idea of sticking something in *there* had his resolve waver for a bit, but he still planned to go through with it at the promise of a good time (who was he to say no to something you've been wanting to try for ages). He even somehow convinced you to start him off with the bumpy silicone rather than the smooth titanium you had in mind, but he seems to be taking it just fine. You'll admit though, you didn't expect him to be so receptive, and that only served to make the view before you much more rewarding.

Absolutely alluring.

You broke the consistent sound of his laboured breaths after some time of letting him get used to the rod, "Keigo."

He faintly heard you call his name and he intended to say something in acknowledgement, yet the haze currently flooding his senses leaves him unable to verbally respond. He knows why you called out to him. He's supposed to stay still, but that's much easier said than done when-

"Are you ready?"

"Huh?" Having his thoughts broken so suddenly has his clouded mind playing catch up while trying to decipher what exactly he should be ready for.

"I'm gonna push it in all the way to the ring."

"W-Wait!" He worked to get his breathing somewhat under control while his feathers ruffle behind him with each exhale. The death grip he had on the sheets slackened as he splayed his palms over the heated material, and he nodded once he was ready, not trusting his warbling voice enough to not make him sound like a bitch in heat. There's also the matter of him trying to keep his dick from getting too erect before you finish putting the rod in. You don't bother asking if he's okay like you did minutes ago, knowing that if he wanted you to slow down or stop he'd simply give you the word. You shift in your spot across from him and get into a more comfortable position, opting to lay down on your torso to shamelessly get a closer look, before applying the smallest bit of pressure to the rod's handle.

"Shit-" The curse slipped out without warning as his brain blanked on him the moment it slipped a few measly centimeters deeper. The slick movement was made possible with the copious amount of lube you applied beforehand, as well as the near constant flow of precum at the obscenity of this act. His back arched a bit from the strong tingles that ran up his spine, and he nearly fell backwards without the aid of the headboard and some pillows.

Is he crying? No, just tearing up.

"Baby, you have to relax for me." You spoke softly, knowing he's doing his best to not jolt around too much. You take one hand to rub at his thigh and calm his trembling, the action serving it's purpose by grounding him to the point that only his wings are restless with their frequent twitches.

His watery orbs opened with an involuntary whimper from his lips. He struggles to keep his hips glued to the bed at the feeling of your gentle ministrations combined with the overwhelming pleasure stemming from his lower half. He's well aware of the shameful position he's in, completely bare while you're fully clothed. That's far in the back of his mind with the loud pounding of his heart resounding directly in his ears, yet he's marginally able to hear your whispers of encouragement and finds solace in your tenderness. He's thankful for the lack of condescension and "told you so"s from your side, he's a bit too sensitive and gooey in the head to handle anything like that at the moment.

Those articles did absolutely nothing to prepare him for how fucking good this would feel.

He closed his eyes once again, the action sending a few tears down his cheeks, and the lack of sight made him acutely aware of the rod going further into him. It feels wrong, it feels good, it feel weird, it feels right, his brain struggled to pick a description while it tried to manage his breathing. The smooth ridges of the silicone rod somehow rub against all the right spots with each gentle push and pull you give it. It's going deeper as a result, the realization pulling a deep groan from his chest once he feels the tip near its stopping point. His brain briefly flitted through his earlier research on this sensual act, something about plunging. As concerning as the concept sounded when he first looked it up, his current experience has him wondering if going further would be any better than this. What's life without a few risks?

Maybe we should try tha-

"OH-" his exclamation was interrupted by an endless string of moans, none of which could be muffled due to his slackened jaw. He realized you had let go of the ring at some point during his ruminating in favor of giving him a handjob without warning. You're not applying much pressure in your grip, but the pleased expression you're donning tells him you know that's all you need to drive him crazy. You also know Keigo is beyond the point of restraint judging from his semi-crossed eyes and the near constant bucking of his hips. He's not even aware of his wings being squished into the pillows meant to keep him upright, the bit of typical first time discomfort mixed with the pleasure keeps him distracted.

"Look," You gave a heated smile as the hand you weren't using to slowly jerk him off places itself back on his thigh, "it's all the way in."

In spite of his pulse thumping strongly in his ears, he heard you clearly and opened his eyes with a sniffle to see what you're talking about. Sure enough, the only thing left sticking out is the ring, all 4 inches have disappeared and his pulsating dick looks ready to burst. Something about the sight makes his body heat up and simultaneously calm down.

God, this is humiliating.

You paid no mind to your back growing tired of your stomach down position, more interested in establishing a steady but still slow rhythm of jerking him off while fondling his tightened balls. He immediately let out a cross between a sigh and a moan from the overwhelming stimulation as his thighs trembled uncontrollably, feeling an immense amount of pressure in his lower half warning him of an oncoming orgasm. And yet, as good as this all feels, he found himself craving a bit more to push himself over the edge.

He swallowed upon feeling how dry his throat is and began to ask while squirming in place, "Can I, uh..."

You pulled your attention away from your activites to see him glancing off to the side and pointing at the rod. With a teasing purse of your lips, you pause your ministrations and respond to his half spoken request, "You're getting a little greedy, aren't you?"

With a narrow of his glossed over eyes, he asks impatiently with a hoarse voice, "Can I do it or not?" He quickly tacked on a 'please' when you sent him a certain look at the demanding tone.

Brat. You have half a mind to reprimand him, but you push that urge aside for later and simply tell him, "Knock yourself out~" You watch intently when he eagerly raises a hand to the ring and pulls ever so slightly, built up precum starting to pool a bit around the rod. He took a sharp inhale of breath once he found a pace and threw his head back in utter bliss, making for an enticing scene you couldn't help biting your lip at. You returned to your services and resumed lightly tugging at his swollen cock, occasionally pressing kisses back and forth between his length and tender balls.

"Mmm, fuuuuck, 'm so close~" The build up is undoubtedly much more intense than any orgasm he's had before, borderline painful yet equally pleasurable. Am I a masochist? Gulping for air by this point, his legs quivered around your head as he whines and nearly pulls the rod out for some kind of release, only for you to let go of his dick and say sternly, "Don't."

Your tone coupled with you stopping his action pulled a loud sob out of him, only spurring his tears and high strung emotions, "It hurts, I can't cum!"

The immense delight radiating from you was clear as day when he sent you a look of pure desperation, wings flapping furiously and face drenched by tears and sweat. "I wanna try something real quick, you can cum afterwards, pretty," you stated eagerly.

In spite of his distress at you postponing his relief, he keened at the promise of it eventually coming his way and kept his protests to himself. Though he's confused as to what exactly you want to do to him, you're not saying anything and his only hint is your thumb ever so lightly grazing his perineum. It wasn't until you ground down on it with your digit and forced a guttural sound from him that he figured out your plan for him.

"There it is~"

Oh fuck.

You were merciless in abusing his prostate, pressing down with just the right amount of force to teeter on the line separating 'too much' and 'not enough'. With you deciding out of nowhere to slowly lick a stripe up his dick at the same time, you had the grown man right where you wanted him, overwrought by pleasure and pleading for respite as he tries (and fails) to suppress his frenzied movements. It didn't take long for the pent up tension to snap weirdly, resulting in him throwing his head back with a long pornographic moan. It felt amazingly terrible if one were to ask him how a dry orgasm felt. You'd expect the pleasure to end right there, but the sensation of nothing being able to bypass the rod was pure torture, akin to being trapped in a neverending loop of arousal with no way of being sated. It also doesn't help that you're still going-

"Fuck, fuck, too much!" He shot a hand out to hold yours and subsequently stop your reign of terror for a little, though it did little to quell his fever ridden frame or calm his quaking. You decide to cut him some slack when he appears to be in a serious internal debate over letting you continue or pulling you away entirely. You don't give him much breathing time when you finally grasped the ringed handle of the rod and pulled on it, the leisurely pace being downright torturous for him since you started doing so without warning. You would've wanted to wait until he'd gone mostly flaccid to pull it out, but patience is nonexistent for you (and him based on his expression), and the rod's flexible enough for this anyway.

The instant it's completely out, you take half of him into your drooling mouth and pump the rest, knowing he'd require little to no effort since he was long overdue to cum. And you were right, he lurched forward and unintentionally shoved you further down his cock by pushing on your head, giving you a minuscule amount of room to prepare yourself for the copious strings of cum shooting down your throat. The loudly alleviating sobs he let out overshadowed your gulps and groans of slight displeasure from the unwarranted manhandling; Keigo's disposition made the experience more bearable though, and it wasn't all that detestable if you were being honest with yourself.

You didn't stop sucking on the bulbous head until he wearily threw himself back into the pillows, his weakened arms pushing at your head with each overstimulated jolt of his hips. Once you relented, you sat yourself up to lean forward and peck his lips, "You okay? That was pretty intense."

His overworked vocal chords felt the strain of reaching tones and volumes he wouldn't normally touch, not to mention his body catching up on the air it lost out on during all of this. But he responded anyway, "Good, 'm good..."

"You did good, too. Thank you Kei'." You placed yourself beside him and pulled his body to you for the much needed tlc it deserved, wiping his face with a tissue you grabbed on your way towards him. He obliged and let you do as you please, wrapping his arms around you and letting his body go lax from your loving whispers of praise coaxing him into a clearer headspace. It didn't take too long for him to regain some clarity with the help of your touches and a couple sips of the bottled water on the nightstand, "Y'know it almost looked like you enjoyed this as much as me."

A breath akin to a laugh escaped you as you kissed at his hairline, "Well, it was something I'd been wanting to see in person." A beat of silence passed between the both of you, only scarcely broken by Keigo's breaths stabilizing and two mutual whispers of 'I love you's, before you spoke, "Oh yeah, you gotta pee after that."

Keigo removed his forehead from your collarbone to give you a scrutinizing look, "I was literally about to fall asleep."

"Love you too pretty boy, let's take a bath while we're at it." Though it was a little comedic seeing his sleepiness snuff out his usual attention to aftercare, you'd prefer to avoid any accidental mishaps of UTI's.

He got up with a huff, but listened to you and followed you to the bathroom on his incapacitated legs (he did kind of have to pee after you mentioned it).

©lexinympho 2022, please do not edit or repost my works anywhere on this platform or another

[m1tsuyadarling]

Roommate Shinichiro♡

Shinichiro x fem reader

Warning: NSFW content! Latina/ Hispanic coded reader, Pussydrunk shin, Handjob, pussyjob, sub Shinichiro, and I think that it- also this is my first time ever writing smut so please bare with me😭 [fluff at the end<3]

Being roommates with you didn't really help his case with you. Shin could've swore that he felt his heart skip a beat when he first saw who his new roommate was.

The first day you and shin met up at a cafe to talk about the situation, Shin felt like he was about to pass out.

Gosh you're so beautiful. He couldn't keep his eyes off you when he first saw you. Just everything about you had him in a trance. Your eyes, lips, voice, basically everything about you. Oh and let's not talk about the way you say his name and your laugh, he loves it when you laugh at his jokes. 

Shinichiro was head over heels for you. He would talk about you to his friends all the time which had them a little annoyed because of how often he talks about you.

He started having a crush on you a week after you moved in the apartment. You were just so sweet that it had him weak in the knees. He just wishes that you give him a chance.

-

Today was a Saturday night, you left to go out with a friend for dinner. Which meant that Shinichiro had the apartment all to himself. The moment you step foot out the door, he quickly makes his way to his room. He laid down on his bed and took a deep breath. Quickly taking out his cock from his sweatpants he shakily started stroking his cock with his hand. He let out a whine from the feeling, he could feel his cheeks heat up as he started going faster.

He lets out loud whines and moans and felt like he was close.

"Fuck!- shit y/nnn" He says while desperately trying to reach for his high. Gosh how he wishes it was you who was stroking his dick right now. He throws his head back against the pillow as thick white ropes shoot from his swollen tip. He pants as he tries to catch his breath.

"Love moaning out my name huh?" He jolts up and sees you standing by the doorway. He blushes in embarrassment and he could feel himself go hard again by the thought of you catching him touching himself.

"Y-y/n? I-I thought you went out!"

"Well that was the plan, but my friend had something important coming up so we had to reschedule." He quickly covers his lap with his covers as you eyed him.

"Eh? Getting hard again shin" He curses at himself when he sees the tent under the covers.

"I-"

"You wouldn't mind if I helped you out for a bit?" You ask while walking towards him. He felt his mouth go dry when you crawl towards him and you were both face to face.

"So?"

He quickly shakes his head and you chuckle. You removed the covers that was covering his lower half and saw how hard he was.

"Wow your big"

He blushes at your words. 

"So blowjob or handjob?" He turns red by your question and looks away.

"C'mon look at me shin~"

"I-I um.."

"It's fine take your time" gosh you were going to be the death of him.

"Handjob" He whispers out but also loud enough for you to hear. 

"K then~♡"

He whimpers when he feels your hand wrapped around his cock. 

"You okay?"

"Mhm~" you smile seeing him desperately jerking his hips up into your hand.

"Please, I wanna cum again" He whines out. And who were you to deny when he looks so fucking cute right now?

You shush him up with a kiss which he hurriedly returns back. You slip your tongue in and he moans into your mouth. You then start moving your hands and he moans into your mouth.

You started kissing his neck while gliding your hang up and down his length. He throws his head back letting a whine fall off his lips.

"Fuck! Mmm close"

"Yeah?"

"Mhm!"

You can see his tip leaking and you started speeding up your movement. His eyes rolled to the back of his head while moans spilled from his mouth. Thighs trembling, shin pulled you closer to him and into a kiss. Seconds later cum shoots out from his leaking cock with a loud moan.

Sweat was glistening from his forehead and after catching his breath he gets flustered knowing what just happened.

"You sound really cute shin" you tease, making him whine. You get up from his bed but he quickly grabs your wrist.

"Mm?"

"You didn't cum" 

"Oh, it's fine-" you yelp when he pushes you on your back. He spreads your legs and looks up to you for permission. You nod and he hurriedly slides off your shorts and panties. He feels weak at the sight of your pussy.

He then quickly buries his face into your cunt and you hum at the feeling of his tongue working on your sweet folds.

"Such a good boy shin"

You say while he eats your pussy like a starved man. Tongue lapping at your folds and soon he starts suckling your clit. 

You moan while tugging on his hair. You started grinding on his tongue and you could feel that you were close.

"Shit- ah!" You moan out.

Seconds later you came on his face. Shinichiro happily drank up all your cum and when he looked up you could see his chin covered in slick and cum.

You grab his face and pull him into yet another kiss which he happily returns back.

"If you ever need help, just tell me" you say and he chuckles.

"Same goes to you"

It Was quiet for a moment until Shinichiro finally decided to shoot his shot.

"Um y/n?"

"Yes?"

"I- well…." You patiently waited for him to let out his sentence. He looks away from your gaze and sighs.

"I have liked you for the past 5 months…and I was wondering if you wanted..to be my girlfriend." He prepares himself for the worst but was met with a small giggle.

"Oh gosh! I'm happy you also feel the same way!" His eyes widen and he quickly whips his head to look at you.

"Huh?!"

"I also like you too, dummy! What? you think I'll go give my roommate a handjob if I don't like them?"

"So you like me?" He still couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Yes, and also yes on the girlfriend part." Shinichiro pulls you into a hug which you return back.

"Fuck you don't know how happy I am right now"

Shinichiro totally didn't expect his night to end up like this but hey, he's not complaining.

First time writing smut so I hope it wasn't bad🥲

[fckyouiwontdowhatyoutellme]

Feels like poking a hornets nest with all the shit going down in this fandom but anyways~

some headcannons i have about Steve and Eddie and probably some general ones as well:

- the only time Eddie wears his hair not open is when Lucas asks if he can practice braids to help Max with it

- Steve's music taste is actually a little bit of everything. If he likes a song he doesn't give two shits about the genre, tho he prefers mostly rock

- it actually takes a few months for the non-Hellfire members of the Party to warm up to Eddie, because lets be honest: he can really be a dick

- it takes the same amount of time and a few cold shoulders and a 'man sometimes you're as bad as Steve was' for Eddie to realize how much of a dick he was

- Both Steve and Eddie can cook, nothing extravagant but their skills are enough to not destroy the kitchen and for the food to taste good

- They're both bisexual desasters who always knew they liked both in a 'huh okay, I guess I like guys too. Neat more options' way. But because they're smalltown queers they know the risks and stay quiet about it

- Steve told Robin in the bathroom that he likes dudes too

- Corroded Coffin know about Eddie and are cool with it

- Eddies bandana has absolutely nothing to do with flagging, its just a part of his outfit like his rings (he learns about it much later and is so embarrased )

- Steve knows how to romance girls, we all know that but when he tries with guys its a fine line between sucess and faliure and he is actually a bit scared of blatantly flirting because he knows how fast shit can go sideways.

- Eddie has the same problem as Steve

- Eddie also pretty much hates all of the typical cheesy romance shit but will melt if his partner takes his hand first or kisses him first

- Them coming out to each other happens when Eddie babbles along about some cute person he saw and slips up with the pronouns, instantly being mortified of loosing someone or getting punched but Steve's just like 'oh you too, huh funny. Anyways what was it about him that you liked so much?'

- both of them have pulled an accidental Han Solo, answering to 'I love you' with 'I know'. For both of them it was because they panicked. It also happened later with each other

- whenever Eddie wears some big ass boots, he wears some funky socks in them plus a pair of wool socks he got from Wayne

- to Robin they're Dingus and Dork or DnD for short

- it literally takes them 4 years to get their shit together and date. (Getting to know each other properly, getting their weird teenage rivalry out of the way, getting past all the highschool hierarchy bullshit (tho this applies mostly to Eddie), getting closer through the years and only then it sparks)

Part 2

[hymemena]

The Quarry Sentence Starters

Feel free to change pronouns as necessary, and remember to specify muse for multimuse blogs.

CW: Swearing, violence, injury, animal attack mention, suggestive

—

"Swarm of bears?"

"Fine… Okay. Once again, -muse- puts themself in mortal danger for the sake of their 'work friends.'"

"Just… How can you be so certain?"

"If I let my conscience slow me down, now, everything gets a lot worse for everyone. Believe me."

"Ah-ah, you'll have it when I say you'll have it."

"Alright, huddle up boys, this is how we're gonna do this."

"There's a half naked girl/boy waiting for you back there, -name-, what are you doing?"

"It was… It was okay."

"They seemed pretty insistent we stay in the lodge."

"I'm just desperate to stay afloat in a world where everyone wants to be different."

"Sometimes things just don't make sense."

"Fuck!"

"Son of a binky-bonky!"

"Well, at least I don't look and smell like a butt."

"Podcast, huh?"

"Family is very important."

"Does this look like the Goddamn Harbinger Motel to you?!"

"Maybe they don't check their voicemail."

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"I saw it online."

"I don't know! This was my first cop!"

"You're a horrible person."

"You shot me?! I'm telling mom!"

"You stabbed me. That really hurt."

"Goodbye, cruel world! The final curtain is calling and there's no time for an encore…"

"Who should we call?"

"Ninety-one one."

"You mean nine-one-one? Who says ninety-one-one?"

"Okay, well, just because you're using 'logic' to 'make sense' doesn't mean that I'm totally into it."

"Hey, you're singing off-key."

"We are being hunted by literal monsters and this is what scares you?!"

"Oh my God. You are so childish."

"Yeah, if they made a podcast called 'How To Look And Smell Like A Butt.'"

"-Muse-, what's your position?"

"Uhm… Standing?"

"I just can't wait to see who they choose to play me. In the movie about how brave I am."

"Maybe you should have asked them out on a date?"

"Damn it! I missed my shot!"

"P-A-R-T… Why the fuck not?"

"Check out my huge melons!"

"There's been a horrible accident--Attack. Some stuff's bad here."

"I'm not gonna fuck a bear."

"Sorry!"

"Why didn't you tell me there was something out there?!"

"I don't know what I saw!"

"Oh my God, -Muse-, you won't believe this! It's… Nothing."

"Yeah, well… Worse things have happened this summer."

"You beefed it."

"Ah, not this time, motherfucker!"

"And what? Risk another run-in with Captain Deliverance?"

"Well, that bodes ill!"

"Whoa, watch your step!"

"Why'd you do that?"

"You told me to!"

"That was a bad idea."

"Huh. Rude."

"They get kinda hot when they're bossy, huh?"

"I'm always hot, pencil dick."

"It's my beer-dar. Helps me dar for beers."

"It's not a secret room! It's just hidden… By stuff…"

"Yeah, that's what a secret is!"

"I haven't ever been stabbed before."

"Why is there what I can only hope is strawberry jelly on your face?"

"Oh, yeah, no. I'm pretty sure it's blood."

"You can't hide from me in my own house, fucker!"

"You're a fucker!"

""Oh, so now I'm blind, too, you motherfucker!"

"Why does everyone blame everything on bears?"

"Okay, so for the sake of argument, what if that 'bear' that cut our phone line and just cut out all the power-- What if that bear is waiting for us out in the hallway?"

"What's wrong with this thing? It's just closing!"

"Sorry, bro!"

"Double skill!"

"Ow! Mother… Hubbard!"

"No… They're funny!"

"Moment's gone."

"…But not forgotten."

"No… -Muse-… Don't do it… Stop…"

"Herd of bears."

"Yeah, I've heard of bears."

"I can try to encourage them."

"Go for it! You guys can do it! --it's not working."

"You know that's kind of a movie-only thing, right?"

"I mean, you bang someone on the head you're more likely to kill them or leave them with permanent brain damage… Not just 'knock 'em out.'"

[sexyinaratkindaway]

Happy Wife, Happy Life

Rating: E

Fandom: QSMP

Pairing: Charlie Dalgleish | Slimecicle/Osvaldo Palacio Flores | ElMariana, Alexis | Quackity/Osvaldo Palacio Flores | ElMariana, FitMC / Osvaldo Palacio Flores | ElMariana, Osvaldo Palacio Flores | ElMariana/Roier, Osvaldo Palacio Flores | ElMariana/Rafael Lange | Cellbit, Osvaldo Palacio Flores | ElMariana/Agentemaxo | Maximus, Alexis | Quackity/Charlie Dalgleish | Slimecicle, Rafael Lange | Cellbit/Roier

Tags: hypothetical imagined future where flippa was fine all along btw. death? what death?, Exhibitionism, THEE maid dress, Group Sex, Orgy, Gangbang, Bukkake, Loving Sex, Dysfunctional Relationships, they're trying to fix it, Dirty Talk, Trans Male Character, trans maxo, Trans Alexis | Quackity, packer, Face-Sitting, Face-Fucking, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Rimmings, panish bits and dialogue, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Partners, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Reverse Cowgirl, Groping, Pet Names, Las Casualonas Nightclub (QSMP), Cuckolding, but like in a weird fun pimp consensual way, Possessive Behavior, MARITAL BLISS, and the opposite of it, philbur crumbs, less than crumbs even. but real ones know, Anal Sex, Creampies, Facials, Slime Charlie Dalgleish, Slime anatomy, Tentacle Dick, implied past slime/quackity

Summary: At Las Casualonas, Mariana gets a taste of a freedom he isn't sure he desires so ardently, anymore.

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47277382

“Fuck, Mariana,” Charlie murmured, head buried in the crook of his wife’s neck, a shadow of teeth on delicate skin, “Did you put on that perfume I like?”

“Slime, we have to go.” Mariana said, but it was really hard to focus with his husband’s cool weight behind him, his strong arms wrapped around him and something very insistent poking him in the back of the thighs.

"I've been wanting to get into this pretty little outfit of yours since the first time I saw you in it." It was a choked whisper against Mariana's nape, and he heard him take a sniff, pressed into sweaty skin and night-damp hair.

"Are you…? ¿Me estás oliendo?" Mariana asked, suddenly shy, "Guácala… Qué asco. Malo. Eres malo."

He felt himself cringe. In his defence, it was difficult to think of witticisms when his husband sniffed him again and groaned and, for once, didn't answer him, but teeth closed around his jugular, arms tightened around Mariana's trim waist, and, Christ, wasn't the corded strength usually hidden in those forearms just about doing it for him. 'Hard as the purest fucking obsidian' did not begin to even scratch the surface of what was going on under the too-short skirt of that stupid maid dress, and not even the poofy little petticoats fluffing it out could hide the situation. At least his husband was behind him, experiencing the exact same situation, and making that fact very clear by way of trying to press said situation flat against Mariana’s ass. He was falling several inches short of it. A mean little part of Mariana was pretty amused about it.

“Need a hand up, cariño?”

"More like a hand down, mi amor." 

Oh, now he spoke. With his stupid, too-affected and too-American at once accent; the lecherous up and down of a voice that promised nothing good. Nor did the clammy hand that finally made its way under the skirt, past all the delicate tulle, to make its way to his too-slim thigh. He thumbed at the elastic of his garter, pulled it taut and let go just to be a dick, to make Mariana feel the vibration of it against his skin, enticing and just on this side of too little, before finally travelling between his legs to wrap around his cock. The fucker had the audacity to giggle in his ear, delighted.

"Wow, darling, you were locked, loaded, and ready, huh? No panties? Someone’s eager…" There was an audible smirk in his voice that made Mariana want to punch him. “And so wet for me, too…”

Okay, that definitely made him blush to the tip of his ears, choke down a shivery whimper while Charlie stroked him, slow and leisurely, his hand a loose, tacky fist around his cock that always made him go a little bit crazy. Some of it was probably due to the fact that Charlie's skin self-lubricated, plentifully so, especially when Mariana was involved. Thinking about that fact for too long made his head spin, so he didn’t, clawed at the arm around his waist and turned his head to meet Charlie halfway in a searing kiss that tasted of fresh limes and tequila. 

So he was pregaming. That explained the sudden handsiness. Mariana settled against the cool body behind him, surrendered to the flickery, sticky touches. It was hard to dissuade his husband when he was like this, and he didn’t particularly feel inclined to, anyway; usually a handsy, keyed up Charlie spelled very fun times for Mariana, and it was easier to quickly indulge him than trying to be on time. It was fine. It would just be an exciting beginning to an equally exciting night.

A particularly sinful twist of Charlie’s hand shook him from his thoughts, slick and faintly warm, rough thumb swiping over the head of his cock, and Mariana keened high and loud, knees buckling, a prayer of his husband’s name slurred on his lips.

“Slime,” he gasped, turning his head to meet him, “Slime.”

“I’m here,” Charlie replied, sounding decidedly less drunk than he was acting, “Be good for me, eh? Be a good girl, let me hear you sing.”

Fuck, did he know exactly how to push Mariana’s buttons.

“Vengo,” Mariana said, choked, when the pleasure became unbearable, lost in the ecstasy of his lover’s touch, the firm grip on his cock and his waist and his brain, “Voy a venir, Slime, más fuerte, hazme tuo, puta madre, ah, Dios,” was he rambling? Under any other circumstances, he'd be embarrassed by the throaty slur his words had become, if his brain wasn't a mushy mess of debauched desire, of wanting, wanting, wanting, wanting his husband to pull him down under and never let him go, to drown in his love, numb and lifeless and drained, and never come up for air. Most importantly, he wanted to come, and Charlie seemed to be very receptive to the idea, if the way his hand sped up was any indication. So Mariana stood, willing, submissive prey, enjoying the slow rising tide of orgasm washing over him, unable to even choke back the whining dirge of his broken moans, Charlie as his maestro.

The world started to go white at the edges.

Mariana braced for an orgasm.

An orgasm didn’t come. What came was a sharp pain around the base of his cock, like a vice, stopping him in his tracks, flinging him straight back to conscious life stricken and confused, like he'd just woken up from the most splendid dream and the most restful sleep back into monotonous reality. He tried to buck into the hand on his cock and found his hips horribly still, held back by a pale arm.

Behind him, Charlie chuckled, and he was the Devil.

"Ay, what do you think you're doing, asshole?"

"Hmm, you know, we're already kinda late." Oh, no. He was smirking, "It would be so rude of us to keep our friends waiting any more."

"No te atrevas, Slime, don’t you fucking-"

Another long, luxuriously slow stroke around his cock shut him right up, words molten into a breathy whine, and he immediately capitulated, anger fizzled away in the hazy cloud of his arousal. 

So what if he had the strength of character of a soggy cream puff? So what if his entire decision-making process got immediately halted and sidetracked the moment his dick got wet? So what?

“Come on, Slime, Charlie, please, I’m so close, I'm so close, come on.”

“Aw, but you’re so pretty like this!” It was infuriating, how easily Charlie turned the tables in his favour, how disarming the proud smile loud in his voice was, how pathetically Mariana whined when his hands left him, “Give me a spin, please?”

Despite everything, Mariana spun around, obedient. Despite how slow and careful his movements were, his skirt still decided to spin of its own volition, flowering open in a pretty circle before settling down over the stiff tent of his cock. The skirt was short enough that the bunched up fabric was letting a light breeze against the very top of his thighs, warm and pink, and the frills could not hide a peek of what sat between his legs. Charlie seemed very interested in that exposed little sliver of skin, at any rate, if the way his eyes wandered exactly there was anything to go by. Mariana’s face felt far too warm, there was sweat gathering behind his nape, but it was comforting to see Charlie’s face tinted green, the bottom of his glasses fogging up, thick, greenish drops of his no-longer skin flowing down his forehead, nose bridge, chin, as he slowly lowered himself into a squat. He was staring up his skirt, completely shameless.

“Yeah,” he muttered, a breathy, wanton wheeze in his voice, “You’re really pretty, Mariana.”

Something about his tone was distressingly earnest, beneath the rough, liquid fire of arousal, in a way Mariana didn’t like, too soft, too raw, which was absolutely ridiculous considering the fact that he was squatting down low on the ground and staring hungrily up his skirt, looking as if he wanted nothing more than to lick sordid stripes up his inner thighs and bury his face under that skirt, and he found himself fidgeting with the hem, pulling it down as if trying to hide, uselessly.

That seemed to shake Charlie out of his reverie, because the shark’s grin was back, the fire in his eyes rekindled, and he swiftly rose on his feet, all liquid grace usually hidden behind a cheerful, clumsy exterior. He took a deep breath, rolled up his shirtsleeves as if looking for something to do.

"Come on, pretty wife, we gotta go."

"Ah, ah, wait, what? I can’t go like this, I’m a mess, I look gross, probably, I–” 

His husband interrupted him by pressing close close close, heavenly pressure sandwiching his dick between a tepid body and his heated belly and too much fabric, lime-sweet tongue sliding between his lips and claiming.

“I… I need to change or, like, put some underwear on…" His protest was tentative and half-hearted; he barely believed it, himself, and Charlie definitely didn’t believe him, a smirk pressed against his lips.

"Oh no, no no no, my lovely wife, we're leaving right now, like this, alright? I want everyone to see just how pretty you are.”

He wished he could say the thought filled him with apprehension. 

Putting the dress on as a joke, getting sloshed, dancing badly and singing even worse with his friends was one thing. Hell, getting caught staring at his husband, tripping over his words whenever he was mentioned, getting hard over him and his stupid bunny fucking costume were all… fine, relatively, he could take the teasing, the laughter, the nudging. Nobody meant any harm by it. 

But to go out there, like this, red-faced and dripping, have people leer and stare and touch and still know that they knew who did this to him, who he belonged to, was terrifying. Was exhilarating. 

Charlie was looking at him, he knew, and his silence was being analysed.

His husband was… an asshole, a piece of shit, a selfish little moron who never thought further than his next step, who only cared about himself. And yet, Mariana knew, intimately, that if he so wished it, Charlie would have immediately dropped this matter. He could have said no, and Charlie would have kissed his cheeks, voice wavering in his apologies, helped him take the costume off and take him to bed and kiss his hair until they fell asleep in a tangle of limbs. Hell, he probably was panicking right now, thinking he'd gone too far, ready to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness. So he fisted a hand in his collar, pulled him up on his tiptoes for a bruising kiss; with his tongue, he tried to convey the exact extent of his jittery, joyous arousal, whatever his flushed cheeks and blown out pupils hadn’t managed to say on the sharp edge of teeth pulling on his husband’s lips. Charlie melted against him, immediately, hands seeking him, his body, skittering under the skirt to grip too-tightly at his bare thighs, the taste of liquor fire-strong on Mariana’s tongue. They kissed and kissed and kissed, Charlie’s groans morphing into grinning laughter, against the twist of Mariana’s mouth as cold, slick residue was left in the way of his groping.

“Pendejo,” Mariana muttered, just to say something, against his lips, “I’ll kill you if you get the dress dirty with your goop.”

“Aww, but you love my goop, princess!” Charlie said, cheerful as the sun, “Especially when I get it under your skirt! And,” he got really close, really close, lips syrup-sticky on Mariana’s ear, “Even more when I get it inside you.”

His fingers, thin and cool and slick, slipped between his spread wide legs, swiped butterfly-light against his taint, left a film in their wake that made him shudder and melt in his arms as fingertips caught on his rim, fluttering open as if on command, begging to be filled. Charlie groaned low and long and wanting, buried his forehead against Mariana’s neck, wrenched his hand away.

“Christ, you drive me fucking crazy.” He said, something broken in his voice, all his bravado completely evaporated, “And if we don’t go now I’ll change my mind and just fuck your brains out at home.”

While that prospect was very alluring, Mariana had gotten too keyed up about being a depraved exhibitionist whore to just let himself go like a teenager now. So, regretfully, they disentangled, placed a respectable foot of space between them, counted to ten in their heads, breath heavy and eyes locked, trying to regain any sort of composure at all. They were unsuccessful, and left Mariana’s house despite the red in their cheeks and their ruffled hair and crumpled clothes. 

The walk to the club was heavy, in that weird, tense way that any moment between them was, when they weren’t fucking, when they weren’t angry, when there wasn’t a bit to keep going. This was real. 

Somewhere along the walk, their hands had found each other, and Mariana could feel his lover quiver, skin tacky with sweat. He probably wasn’t much better off, he thought, as they settled in front of the heavy door, as he bent over the keypad to input the password, and immediately regretted it when he felt his husband settle heavily against his back.

“Slime,” he muttered, and cringed to himself when he felt his accent too heavy in that name, “Slime, déjame abrir la maldita puerta.”

Charlie huffed an offended noise in his nape, and reached a hand out to turn the handle himself, pushing the two of them inside, escaped from torrid summer night air to tumble into the heavy stench of liquor and bodies and wrong decisions. Las Casualonas was packed; it seemed that everyone in the server had decided to tuck their eggs to sleep to go have a night free of overthinking, inhibitions, fears. Thumping music, headache-inducing strobes, alcohol potent in the air and on people’s breaths, writhing masses of dancing bodies like tidal waves for the soul. Mariana loved it. Loved to forget everything, himself most of all, do away with responsibilities and regrets; alone in a sea of people. Everyone was there, or almost; Jaiden, sat by the stage, clapping and laughing and tucking bills in Melissa’s lingerie; Fit and Bad and Maximus, sharing quiet drinks around the DJ set, Quackity, Foolish; a few people he didn't know, Forever, a blonde woman next to him who looked eerily similar to him, Cellbit next to them, dark and handsome, eyes trained on Melissa; some dancing, some drinking. Even Philza was there, leaning against the bartop, nursing a glass of something amber in his hand, surveying the room with an obviously intoxicated son hanging by his side, eyes covered by the shock of brown curls hanging over his face, only half-listening to the conversation going on around them.

Not that it really mattered, because that conversation stopped once Charlie and Mariana stepped inside, only for the time it took to recognize them, for the nerves of a door opening and a new face joining to subside. It was funny, in a manner of speaking; Prohibition-like in a macabre way, everyone jumping and tensing, ready for cops to come bust down the doors of their fun.

Instead it was just Charlie and Mariana; everyone relaxed. Hell, some eyes stayed on the two of them, but for completely different reasons; trained on the too short hem of his skirt, the still-not-subsided bulge tenting it, Charlie’s possessive arms around him slowly disentangling from his torso with a kiss to his scratchy cheek.

“Go have fun, alright, baby?” He murmured, low, pressed right up to his ear just so Mariana could hear him under the booming bass, “I’ll go chat with my buddies. Want a drink?”

Mariana swallowed, nodded, “Tequila.”

Charlie grinned against his ear, “One tequila for the missus, comin’ right up.” Then he slinked away, blissfully cool skin against his back giving way to too-hot, oppressive air, leaving Mariana all alone.

Deep breaths, Mariana. You can back out of this at any time.

Still not totally convinced of his own resolve, he took long strides towards the stage. 

Melissa was beautiful, she always was; hair long and silky flying with her movements, artful makeup around all four eyes, lips red and shiny, lost in her own art. He sat, heavy, in one of the booths, next to Jaiden, sighed as if marathon-tired and glanced at her. She was dashing, always was, in her black slacks and white shirt with the first two buttons undone and her sky green tie untied and tucked in her breast pocket, an empty glass on the low table in front of her, staring up at Melissa with a grin, open and light and airy even as her gaze moved on Mariana.

"Hi, Mariana." She said, high enough to be heard over the music, smile softening, and he instantly relaxed. Leave it to fucking Jaiden to calm him down with nothing.

"Hello, Jaiden," he said, "Having fun?"

"Oh, yeah, definitely!" Bright and kind, almost out of place in the sordid atmosphere of the club, "I haven't seen Roier have this much fun in… a while, that's for sure. I’m happy he feels so frisky and free here."

Mariana nodded. "Yeah, this place is… kinda made for that. You know. Forgetting the bad stuff and having a good time."

She took a look at him, a real, good, long look, eyes scanning up and down, appraising and critical, his mussed hair, shifty, nervous eyes, still-puffy lips, messy dress, and that hard-on that wouldn't leave, tenting his skirt in an almost obscene way, and laughed.

"Ah, I see what you mean. Well, I hope you have fun tonight, Mariana. And remember," her voice was low now, steely, eyes suddenly serious, "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Take it easy, yeah?"

That’s when Melissa opened her eyes, and it was Roier again, who looked at Mariana with eyes twinkling, lips stretched in a grin even as he hung upside down from the pole, holding himself up with his thighs before dropping down to his feet, a hand extended towards him.

"Marianita! Ven, ven, ven conmigo! Ven a bailar!"

And, well, who could say no to that? Not Mariana. Mariana grabbed the outreached hand, found a pleasant tickle of acrylics on his skin, let himself be pulled out on the stage. Someone whistled, but Mariana didn’t care, not when Roier smelled like jasmine and roses, when something was glittering across his collarbones under the strobes, hugged him too close with hands closed around his waist and guided him in frenetic movement, delirious, almost, thoughts droned out by the drone of the beat. They danced, and danced, and danced, close, too close, breathing in each other's air and revelling in each other's skin, lips a breath away and hands on each other. Christ, Roier's thighs were smooth. 

"Cabrón," he heard himself mutter against Roier's lips, "Te afeitaste las piernas?"

Roier grinned. "No solo esas." His hands tightened around Mariana's hips, tickled lower to toy with the hem of his skirt, "Me encantaría mostrártelo, pero no me gustaría contrariar a tu esposo. Es temprano."

He said that, but his hands slipped inside, went up to knead at his ass, and Mariana hissed. Roier laughed in his ear, delighted.

"Ay, eres zorra! Sin panties?"

Was it hypocritical to blush at a true accusation? He wasn’t wearing any panties. He’d put on that dress and no panties that night hoping for hands to make their way there and finding a pleasant surprise, for teasing words whispered against his skin. He just wasn’t expecting Roier to be the one to grant him his wish. And he wouldn't let go. He just kept kneading, pressed up so close against Mariana that he could feel the throbbing head of his cock poke him in the belly, and something poke him back, covered by little more than some red lingerie, and every time a fingertip brushed a little lower, every time the thigh shoved between his legs moved to touch him, Mariana jumped, sparks flew through his bloodstream until his fingertips trembled around Roier's thighs, and laughter got muffled in teeth against Mariana's throat.

Fucking rat bastard. He was having the time of his life, wasn't he, while Mariana shook and whined like a bitch in heat, ready to fall apart because of some groping and grinding. 

He was so pissed he didn't even realise some other people had climbed on the stage until someone was pressed up behind him, wide and blissfully cool and carrying a sweet scent of lime, and now a strong arm was wrapped around his waist, laughter clear and lovely in his ear.

"I see you've already started without us, huh?"

Charlie was smiling. He didn't need to turn and look to know. A glance to his surroundings revealed two figures hovering around them; he blinked and blinked, glasses near useless in the dark and the arousal, and what before were only two shadows suddenly turned into Quackity, so handsome, who’d deigned to put on a nice dress shirt for once, and Cellbit, striking blue eyes lined in black and a new white streak in his mop of pretty brown curls. He only had eyes for Roier; he leaned over towards him to wrap his arms around his bare waist and kiss his lips, and, oh, that was a nice ring on his finger. He hadn’t known. The kiss deepened, and Mariana was so focused on watching the two of them enjoy each other that he didn’t notice Quackity's warm, warm weight pressed around his side, his breath against his skin and then teeth. Sharp. Painful. Mariana heard himself whine, and didn't even have it in him to be embarrassed, so he nuzzled Quackity's hair. He wasn’t wearing his dumb beanie, for once. Good. 

"Hola, mami," Quackity murmured, voice rough, drawing out the ‘i’, "Estas tan bonita esta noche."

“You’re a bitch,” Mariana hissed, surprising even himself with the English coming out of his mouth, and captured Quackity’s grinning lips in a kiss. He trilled a happy noise in Mariana’s mouth and immediately snaked his tongue in, scorching warm with a hand curled around his nape and another joining Charlie’s around his nape. Quackity’s kisses were forceful, a whirlwind tasting of whisky and tequila and oranges, licking in his mouth, running over his teeth and inside his cheeks. He always kissed like he wanted you to choke on his tongue, and right then, Mariana would have welcomed it, if it meant never losing that warmth.

Lips on his cheek, then, sugar-sticky, cool, and then low to bite marks in his jaw and lick tender skin, grinning when Mariana groaned in Quackity’s mouth.

Laughter in his ear, then. “I brought you your tequila, Mariana. Still feelin’ up to it?”

Mariana pulled away from Quackity, his hiss made him immediately want to go back, and made the effort to turn to his husband. “Yes. Give me, give it to me.”

Charlie laughed again, but handed him the glass anyway. “I’m not going to be the one giving it to you tonight, babe. I was about to ask if you were still sure, but… seems I don’t need to.”

Wait, what?

“Wait, what? You," a gulp of surprised air, sticky-warm, "I thought… you're not gonna be here?"

"Of course I'll be here, princess," Charlie said, placating, fingers tacky when they entwined with Mariana's, "But I was planning to sit in those booths down there and just enjoy the show and hand out water bottles. Get a front row seat to see you all messy and dishevelled just how I love you."

That, of all the lecherous things his husband had told him that night, made Mariana blush. He grabbed the glass from Charlie's hands, sticky and wet with condensation, downed it all in one go and lost himself in the harsh burn of tequila in his throat, firing up frayed nerve endings from not-fully-healed bruises, handed the glass back to Charlie. 

"Of course," his husband said, suddenly serious, fingers tight around the glass and around Mariana's hand on it, "I can stay right here if you'd like. Fuck, we can just leave if you wanna leave. I just thought I'd let our buddies get a taste of you, but you just say the word, and we'll go, huh?"

Mariana looked at him, beautiful and ethereal under the strobing lights; his skin was just a bit translucent, what with the heat, but his eyes were steely, something distressingly honest and affectionate that made Mariana's throat close every time he looked at him; he turned to the people around them, found all eyes on him. Quackity, teeth slowly letting go of the sensitive skin on his neck; Roier, licking his lips, an arm still wrapped around his handsome husband's waist, staring at him from lust-wavering eyes and kiss-slack lips. But they were looking him in the eyes, lust seemingly forgotten, hanging off his lips waiting for his say, his yes or no. A further glance around revealed a sea of eyes trained on him. Bad and the two blondes he had decided were siblings, looking at him and grinning, drunk and amused, nudging Forever as if trying to get him to join them; Phil and Wilbur, sitting on adjacent stools, Wilbur much more awake than he had been, staring straight at him with something wolflike-hungry in mismatched eyes behind his glasses and a hand already palming himself; Fit and Maximus, staring and whispering, Maxo had pulled his shades up on his forehead and looked just about ready to saunter over and jump them, and Fit, flushed, eyebrows pinched together, looking just about ready to let him, or even join him; Jaiden, amused, leaning against the bar; Foolish, looking much less amused next to her, gripping his glass so hard he looked ready to break it.

The whole room had their eyes trained on him. He would make or break the night. This was power.

These were his friends, he realised, something choked and tender in his throat, and they all wanted him so badly he could smell it in the air. And he could say no, deny them all, force them to go home hard and wanting and jerk off into their mattresses until their hands could barely approximate the feeling of real sex; they would just go if he'd said so, he knew. It was comforting. 

So he threw back the glass, enjoyed the burn of tequila down his throat; looked back to his husband, nodded, just minutely, turned back to Quackity and Roier and Cellbit, grinned to mask away his trepidation.

“I don’t like to leave things half-done. Show me your worst, guys.”

Charlie smiled, next to him, kissed his cheek again. Then he leaned towards Quackity, hooked two fingers in the neckline of his shirt to pull him close enough for a kiss.

Charlie and Quackity kissed easily, effortlessly, as if they’d done it a million times before, intimate knowledge of each other guiding their movements, their hands, their tongues, a mastery that Mariana could never reach. Not with Charlie. He watched, mesmerised, as his husband and his friend kissed as if nobody else was watching, Charlie hissed and Quackity groaned and bit his lip until they had to part for air.  

“God, Charlie, I love your mouth.”

“I know you do,” Charlie said, low, rueful, “You always have.”

A beat. His husband grinned back at him, lovely with his lopsided glasses and puffy lips, then at Roier and his husband. “Alright then. I leave my bitch of a wife in your capable hands. Treat him well, eh?”

“Of course we will, man, who do you take us for?” Quackity sounded almost offended, his arms tightening around Mariana’s waist, but Charlie just laughed, and with a final squeeze of Mariana’s hand, hopped off the stage platform.

Now he was, functionally, alone in the lion’s den. Roier was smiling at him, and all four of his eyes spelled disaster. His lover’s grin looked dangerous and alluring, but his attention was captured by Quackity’s teeth on his shoulder, and then lithe, rough hands pawing their way under his skirt making him jump. Quackity's fingers, dry and rough around his cock, were just the perfect balm for his too-neglected skin, the drag terrible and perfect, and he threw his head back to land on his partner's shoulder.

"Ay, Quackity, no la acapares. Queremos disfrutarla también." Roier’s voice came like a gunshot in the heavy air. Mariana cracked an eye open to see he was huddled close to his husband, a hand on his crotch, palming him through rough cotton like he fucking owned what was under it—he probably did–and Cellbit had bitten his lip, eyes screwed shut.

"¡No la estoy acaparando!" Quackity laughed, too close to his ear, the circle of his fingers tightened around the base of Mariana’s cock. “Mira, mira, mirala, es tan hermosa. Mira su verga, está lista para ser usada.”

He said that, and then, suddenly, cool, sticky air was on his cock, made him hiss and bite his lip. He risked a glance downwards; saw Quackity’s fingers holding his skirt up and his cock spring free from its cotton prison, angry red at the tip, pearly pre dripping down the shaft. Roier and Cellbit were staring, hungry, wanting, at what Quackity was showing them, eyes heavy on Mariana’s skin. Cellbit, especially, licking his lips, staring him up and down and always coming back to his cock, and his lover grinned, nuzzled a kiss to his jaw.

"You wanna suck her dick, gatinho? He makes some really nice noises when you deepthroat him." 

Cellbit hummed, lips stretched in a grin, “I would like that.”

“Go, then, go!” Roier said, laughter on his lips.

Cellbit laughed as well, and then he was very close, chest to chest with Mariana, one thigh thrust between his legs, looking up at him.

“Alô, Cellbit,” he said, choked.

“Hola, Mariana,” replied Cellbit, dangerous and lovely, something vibrating deep in his chest like a purr. His hands were warm on his chest, calloused fingertips tickling at the too-low hem of his neckline, though his sly smile couldn’t hide the red in his cheeks. They met halfway in a kiss, coffee and rum on his breath, and Mariana melted against him. Christ, he was a good kisser, methodical in his exploration, biting his lips, suckling his tongue, licking at his cheeks and deep deep deep as if he wanted him to choke on their kiss, and his clothed belly was rubbing against his sensitive shaft every time they moved, and every time, Mariana moaned in his mouth and he took it as chance to explore deeper. 

"Mm, you kiss good," Mariana muttered against his lips, if only to pretend he wasn't as affected as he was.

"Yes, I know." Cellbit simply said, "I've been told that I'm very good with my mouth.”

He smirked, and dove low, sinking to his knees in one fluid motion, Roier placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, grinned at Mariana as if proud of a dog who’d just done a trick.

“Tienes un gatito tan guapo, Roier,” Mariana murmured, mesmerised by the sight.

“Si, si, yes. He’s great…”

Roier was saying something else, but there were, suddenly, warm hands gripping his thighs and spreading his legs, effortless, fingers teasing his thigh garter, and hot, humid breath ghosting over his cockhead, and Mariana’s ears were ringing with rushing blood.

Christ, it was true, Roier’s husband was fucking pretty. Especially on his knees, nuzzling Mariana’s cock with his pretty red lips ajar and his pretty blue eyes staring up at him, and then he pressed those pretty lips to his cock, warm and slick and a little bit chapped, kiss kiss kiss from the base to the tip, a tongue darting out to circle his sensitive glans once, twice, before dipping in to swipe away at his pre. Mariana groaned, head thrown back; his arms shifted, hands flexed, seeking contact, the feeling of fluffy hair between his fingers to pull him closer by, but he found himself still, arms held back.

Quackity and Roier were flanking him, and each of them was holding one of his arms still.

"Ay, carajo… Quackity? Roier? Que estas…"

"No touching, Marianita," Murmured Quackity in his ear, a smile in his words and teeth on sensitive skin, biting, biting, biting, "Let Cellbit do his thing, huh?"

Whatever snarky response was going to come out of Mariana's mouth didn't get the chance to. Cellbit had wrapped his lips around his flushed cockhead and started suckling. He opened his lips, and words became tumbling whines, his flailing arms held painfully still by the two men at his side. He desperately wanted to pull Cellbit up by his hair, kiss him, kiss him until they were both out of breath, but kissing Roier, savouring the remnants of coffee underneath bubblegum and vodka would have to do. Not like Roier was a bad kisser, anyway, laying delicate pecks on Mariana's lips before licking into his mouth, hungry and desperate and ever playful, a hand cupping his cheek, just as Quackity nosed under his jaw to lick a stripe down his neck until his tongue met that stupid little choker thing, and he groaned a displeased sound, having to leave that little patch of skin untouched and flitting further down to bite at his clavicles, and suddenly Cellbit had taken his whole length between his lips, and he felt his cockhead bump against the back of his throat, and the way he didn’t even flinch made his head spin, but Cellbit moaned, grating and wheezy, dove in deeper to nose at the patch of hair at his base, so maybe he was more affected than he seemed. 

And Quackity was still holding the damn skirt up for his convenience, showing the whole club the pretty picture of Cellbit sucking his dick and having a great time of it. The club had gotten very silent, and he didn’t have to look around to see why. Everyone was enjoying the show, Mariana knew, the feel of lascivious eyes on his skin sticky like molasses. So, instead, he glanced around, at the few people who had finally decided to come closer to the booth to look up at them, and then over at his husband.

Charlie was splayed on the couch, staring up at the action with wavering eyes. He’d crossed his legs, Mariana noticed, but was making no effort to hide the hand he’d reached between his legs, slowly palming at his bulge. Their eyes met, he grinned at him—something pinched in moon-bright eyes that he chose to ignore, the Moon in the damp darkness of the club; uncrossed his legs and spread his knees, just so Mariana could be absolutely certain of what that hand was doing, wiggled his eyebrows that way he did when he wanted to proposition Mariana with plausible deniability, and make him laugh in the meanwhile. Someone was sitting next to him, laughing. Fit. The sound of his laughter, deep and smooth, reverberated along with the thumping bass until Mariana was surrounded with it. Fit was a handsome man. Suddenly, he craved those big, war-rough hands on his skin.

Then Cellbit bobbed his head, once, twice, the wet vice of his throat fluttering around him, and all thoughts of Fit flitted out of his mind. He turned his head, blindly seeking, and a mouth caught his, but the novel burn of whisky and sharp teeth at his lower lip spelled Quackity’s name, and he melted into the kiss, in hands on his jaw keeping him still, and then two more hands pulling down on the already low neckline of the dress and snaking their way in to expose and grope and grab at his chest. Roier was talking, mumbling sweet nothings in Spanish and English and some butchered resemblance of Portuguese, looking down at Cellbit even as he pinched and worried Mariana’s nipples, rolling them between his fingers, pulling on and letting go, cupping his pecs as if unsatisfied with their small size, as if wishing something were to dribble out. Cellbit had opened his eyes, hazy with lust, and was looking up at his husband like he was the Sun.

“Look at her, gatinho, isn’t she pretty? Look at these pretty tits she’s got, eh? I wanna just…”

Despite the difficult position, Roier bent down to wrap his lips around a dusky nipple, made red and puffy by the rough handling, and Mariana’s moan was lost in Quackity’s mouth. Christ, he wished his arms were free. He tried to wrench them free, again, from his lovers’ grips, found himself frustratingly still. Quackity frowned, bit his lip one last time before finally pulling away, and he looked a mess, eyes wide and all pupil, lips puffy and slick.

“No toques.” He said, slow and clear. 

Then he reached an arm down to card his fingers in Cellbit’s fluffy hair and pulled.

Christ.

The sound that left his pretty, abused lips. A beautiful moan, clear and melodious, reverberating around Mariana’s dick as Quackity’s unflinching hand slowly pulled him off, off, off until his tip was resting on those lips, pink tongue slipping out to swipe a circle around it, dip in his slit, a hand reaching up to grip at his spit-slick base with just the right amount of heavenly pressure, before Quackity was pulling him back in, torturously slow. He started on a rhythm, like this, guiding Cellbit's head off and on his cock, delighting in the choked little moans and gags coming out of his throat on every bob, and every time his throat closed around Mariana's cock, he cried out, broken and soft.

Distantly, he realised that the low hum he was hearing was actually the hushed sound of people around them, gathered close around the stage, watching, enraptured, and that was what threw him off the edge. 

With nothing more than a choked cry for warning, he came in Cellbit's mouth, not deep enough for him to swallow it all, and just having to look down at him like that, coughing and choking with milky spunk dripping down his cheek and nose and mixing with the spit running down his chin, almost made Mariana twitch back to hardness.

Around them, some people cheered. Cellbit leaned back on his hands, twisted his body around towards their audience just to loll out his tongue and show everyone exactly what type of mess Mariana had made of him, and they cheered harder. Forever, who had gotten very close to the stage now, leaned towards him to reach a hand and swipe away a little pearl of cum from his cheek with his thumb, put it in his mouth and closed his eyes as if it was the best thing he'd ever eaten, and Cellbit smirked, brought his attention back to Mariana, got up, finally. He gave his husband a swift kiss on soiled lips, tongue out for Roier to swipe his own against and get a taste, sharing a giggle, before turning his attention to Mariana, grabbing his chin with two fingers. They hovered close together, faces a hair’s breadth apart, and Mariana was the one to fill the distance, licking into Cellbit’s lips. Never in a million years he'd thought that cum and coffee were a good combination, but Cellbit made it work, or maybe it was just the adrenaline and endorphins of sex making the foul taste subside into the sickly sweetness of arousal.

The kiss was over all too soon, Cellbit was pulling away from his lips with a smile. His face was still covered in spunk, Mariana thought, distantly, and somehow he still looked like a greek fucking statue. Roier immediately caught his attention in a kiss, hands flying to bury in his hair, and Mariana’s eyes stayed on the bright pink of his acrylics in the fluffy, brown mop, tugging and pulling this way and that just so he could reach his tongue to lick at a perfect nose, at flushed cheeks, whatever spunk was left in his scratchy beard. They were looking each other in the eyes.

“Doesn’t he taste good, guapito?”

“Everything tastes good when I lick it off of you, gatinho.” 

It was so low, Mariana almost didn’t hear it; whispers against lips meant for each other’s ears only. It reminded him of different times, easier times; lifetimes ago, it seemed, when a child and sex weren’t the only things keeping him and Charlie together. He risked a glance towards his husband, found him staring right at him, eyes wavering with lust and something else he didn’t want to risk analysing. He was still talking with Fit, who was glancing at him, every once in a while, appreciative glances that ran up and down him as if wishing they could touch him. He wished it too.

Then Quackity’s hand was on his cock, and he forgot about everything else.

“Quackity, carajo, estoy sensible–” 

His hissed complaint was interrupted by that hand tugging on his cock, one long, luxurious stroke, squeezing his base and slowly going up until a thumb was trying to dig at his slit, way made slick and easy by spit and cum, and Quackity laughed at the pitiful noise that came out of his mouth.

“But I like these noises you’re making, Marianita, I really don’t wanna stop.”

“Hnngh.” Was all that Mariana could get out of his lips, because the stroking had gotten faster, and Quackity was masterful.

“Eh, cuantas pajas haces, Quackity?” he muttered, then, because he might be fucked out and dumb from his first orgasm of the night, but he’d be damned if he didn’t bitch about it, “Eres muy capaz.”

“Shut up,” Quackity said, voice low, half way between threat and laughter, “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

That shut him up right quick. That, or Quackity’s hand tightening around his cock on an upstroke, delicious and warm and a little bit rough with callouses. An arm flailed, hand going to grip at the cheap cotton of his sleeve, doing very little to stop its movement, the frantic up and down and twist and squeeze on too-sensitive skin that was making Mariana lose his mind.

"Come on, Mariana," Quackity was saying, "Come on, I know you’ve got another one in you, c'mon, c'mon."

He could barely understand the English, Hell, he could have barely understood Spanish right then, not with the warm bodies crowding around him, more hands reaching down at his cock. Soft fingers joined Quackity's around his shaft, squeezing the base with loving care even as he thumbed the head and made him whimper, the delicate clicking of acrylic nails high in the air; a rough hand grabbing his ass, fingers dipping between his cheeks to swipe at the little, neglected pucker of his hole, found it tacky with slick, and Mariana’s knees buckled. Thank  the stars Cellbit was beside him, holding him up, because Quackity had moved to his front, had dipped down low with Roier, and their grins promised nothing good, hands insistent on his cock trying to milk Mariana for all he was fucking worth.

And it worked.

Soon, he was whining, thrashing in Cellbit’s surprisingly strong grip, and Roier knew exactly what to do. He leaned forwards and wrapped his lips around him—Christ, getting lip gloss all over his cockhead—and meeting Quackity’s fingers on each upstroke as Mariana came, again, in dribbly little spurts on Roier’s tongue. The pressure on his cock didn’t relent, however, not for a moment; rough little hands and scorching hot, suckling pressure around him, and then Roier pulled off of him and immediately kissed Quackity, a filthy thing, sharing breath and spit and spunk and noises, and Quackity had his eyes open, just a sliver, staring up at Mariana. There was white stuff on his lips.

His glasses were fogging up.

"Aren't they hot?" Cellbit murmured, suddenly by his ear, and his fingers shifted, and Mariana suddenly remembered exactly where he was touching him, neglected and hypersensitive. "Look. You did that."

"Christ, Cellbit, stop fucking teasing me."

Something was circling his hole now, blessedly. Insistent, rough. Wet.

It wasn’t a finger.

A glance downwards revealed dark hair peeking from underneath his skirt. Ah. Right. In all their moving and switching and thrashing about, nobody was holding it up anymore, and it was draped over Quackity's head, over his shivering cock, dribbling the last of his orgasm in that mess of hair. 

He really wanted to see; that would involve having to grab the hem of his skirt and lift it himself. Show himself off to the whole room again, a room that, he realised, hadn't taken his eyes off him for one moment, during that whole pitiful spectacle. Even Roier, still on his knees, pressed behind Quackity, arms around his waist and chin hooked on his shoulder, was smiling up at Mariana, the pretty picture of seraphic composure. It was hard to argue with eyes like that, of a predator toying with its meal; Mariana gulped down too-hot air, squeezed his eyes shut as if trying to gather his courage; and grabbed the satin-y hem of his skirt to lift it up high.

A choir of "ooh"s and "ahh"s sounded out, pleased, and when he opened his eyes he looked straight into Maximus's lecherous grin, sunglasses slipping off his nose, staring between his legs; and then Quackity's lidded eyes, staring up at him. He moved his tongue, circling his hole again, at the same time as Cellbit wiggled his fingers, and then he was breaching him, warm and wet and rough and perfect. He keened, low and pleased, spreading his legs further for Quackity to tuck himself between and was rewarded with warm hands around his stocking-covered calves and ankles, keeping him still and spread open as his lover ate his fill. And, boy, was he hungry.  His tongue was working fucking miracles inside him, long and slick and twisting, seeking to turn him inside out for the pleasure of their audience. He knew what Quackity was looking for; still he jumped and bucked when he felt him brush against his prostate, not nearly enough for any sort of meaningful stimulation but enough to make all his nerve endings strike on fire, enough to make a long, drawn out moan run its way out of his lips and sound high in the air like a warning bell. Quackity let go of him with a frustrated groan, chin slick and shiny.

“Cellbit, wanna help me out a bit? I can’t reach his prostate like this.”

“Sure thing, Quackity.”

Cellbit’s finger dipped inside him, way made easy by the spit Quackity left, and he found that little bundle of nerves ridiculously fast and stayed there, relentless and methodical. Every deliberate rub against his prostate made Mariana cry out shivering, hoarse sounds, hips jerking in aborted little thrusts, torn between seeking and averting; he turned his head into Cellbit’s cheek, tucking into the man’s warm neck, even if the height difference made it awkward, because Quackity was eating him out again, and the combination of tongue and fingers was doing funny things to his gut, his arousal, his cock; despite everything, he  was half-hard again, brain leaking out of his flush tip. And he could have come again, really; he could feel it mounting, his core tightening, his stomach rolling, the white at the edges of his vision.

Then the fingers inside him slipped out, the warm body behind him left.

He turned around, a confused noise on his lips at the sudden absence, but didn’t have time to ponder it, because Cellbit’s warm, lithe weight was immediately replaced by someone bigger.

“Es, eh, es mi club en el que estás tirando, bonita,” it was Maximus’ voice vibrating in his ear, a warm scratchy tongue and a cool metal barbell meeting the shell of his ear, and Mariana shivered, turned towards him to seek his lips and meet him in a kiss, “Me merezco disfrutarte un poco, no?”

“Mm, Maxo…” he heard himself slur out, words little more than a whiny mess, “Maxo, ayudame, por favor, por el amor de Dios, Maxo, me matarán….”

If he’d been any more present or less fucked out, he probably would have been ashamed to no end about the words coming out of his mouth, about the little chuckles that erupted around him. He wasn’t, though, so he only had ears for the dark little snicker right in his ear, only had mind for the clawed hand that had grasped one of his ass cheeks almost too harshly, the dull pain of blood rushing to his skin under the pressure, the way he felt the grip spread him around the tongue still deep inside, and his body lurched of its own volition, unsure if wanting to curl away from the stimulation or into it, and he felt his arms curl backwards on their own, to wrap against Maxo’s neck and keep him there.

“Eh, no creo que te quiero ayudar. Eres tan hermosa así."

That infuriating smirk of his. He didn't even need to look to know it was there.

Then, something behind him, past the warmth of his body, something hard poking the very top of his thighs.

“Cristo, Maxo, tienes el packer?”

His mean little snicker was response enough. “Solo para ti, mami.”

How long had Charlie been planning this?

It was Maximus’ fingers inside him now, rough and slick with something more than spit, less intent on making him lose his mind by way of his prostate and more on scissoring him open, slick and pliant. His fingers were bigger than Cellbit’s, rougher, less used to holding a pen and more used to handling machinery, warm inside him, and every twitch made him quiver in kind, made his legs buckle. Luckily he was being held up by several pairs of strong hands on his waist, his hips, his legs, guiding one of his thighs to hook over Quackity’s shoulder to give him a better angle, deeper. He was melting under all the attention. His cock was standing at attention again, angry red at the tip, shiny with wetness, too much, too much. And yet not enough.

"¿Puede venir así, Mariana?" Maximus was asking, and Mariana felt himself shake his head, frantic, felt his legs tremble and the arm wrapped around Max shiver and tighten. Max laughed. "Alright, alright, fair enough."

Then the fingers inside him twitched and moved, crooking at just the perfect angle to nail his prostate, just as Quackity popped off him with a gasp and gave a few broad licks to his rim, and Max's knuckles.

"Loosen him up nice and well, Max," he was saying, coming up to nuzzle Mariana's cock, just as bright pink acrylics were dragging along the side of it, and he felt him nod, cheek to cheek with him, packer still pressing uncomfortably against his bare skin, and the sensation was just too much.

He came, vision going white; it felt like it lasted an eternity, like the world had stopped spinning in favour of his orgasm.

When he came to, there was chatter around him; the vague sound of someone clapping, a few disjointed cheers and whoops.

"Buena chica, buena chica." Maximus was murmuring in his ear, and Mariana felt himself bloom hot with the praise. 

Slowly, air started to flow again around him, the oppressive throng of warm bodies pressed up to him parting, and suddenly the only thing keeping him upright was Maximus’ loosening grip, gentle, gentle as he lowered him to his knees, as hands petted through his hair, low murmurs in his ears of sweet things and reassurances. A new voice, too, warm and low, making his belly crinkle with excitement.

"There we go, good girl," it was saying, "good girl, you're doing great."

"Fit?" He slurred, unsure. As if it could be anyone else.

"Yeah. Charlie offered, and I couldn't refuse. You don’t mind, do you, Mariana?"

He just shook his head, petulant and desperate, one arm searching for the comforting feel of skin on skin, to go wrap around his neck. Hold him close like an anchor. Underneath the stench of sex, of sweat, his own hormones, underneath pine and gunpowder and sulphur on Fit’s skin, he could smell limes in the crook of his neck, on his breath when they got close.

“Did you touch my husband?” he heard himself say, and Fit laughed, hands on his overheating skin deliciously cool, sword-rough.

“We were sitting side by side. But he seemed more interested in me touching you.”

“‘Course he was. Fucking pervert.”

“But you’re the one here on a stage with everyone’s hands all over you, aren’t you, kitten?”

And then, that big, scarred hand was making its way under his dress, and he braced for fingers on his too-sensitive cock; instead, it made its way up, and up, lifting the skirt almost obscenely to show off yards of skin, untouched and pristine, to paw at his belly and chest, pinch sensitive nipples and twist until he was mewling, until he was bucking his hips against empty air; he yelped when another hand dug in his neckline to go grope the untouched side of his chest, and now he was pressed bodily against Fit, chest to back, chin hooked over his shoulder to look down at flushed, sweaty skin.

“Man, are you pretty,” he was murmuring in his ear, and it wasn’t easy to focus on the words that formed the soothing drone of his voice, not with those fingers pinching and rolling his nipples and holding him tight and making him whine, “Charlie’s a lucky guy. I can see why he’s so jealous about you.”

Despite everything, he felt himself scoff, something bitter curling in his stomach. “Why isn’t he up here with me now, then? He looked… he looked pretty fucking satisfied with just… looking.”

“Oh, don’t worry. He isn’t. He’s having a very hard time sitting back and just looking. Have you seen the way he’s looking at you?” There was awe in Fit’s voice, bordering on jealousy. Spreen had dipped on him almost instantly, he knew. 

So, he turned and looked.

Charlie was staring at him. At his face. He seemed caught off guard by eyes meeting his, his gaze dropped quickly to bare skin, legs slouching open in a reminder of nonchalance. But his tense muscles, his pursed lips, his steely eyes, told something different, didn’t they? Told of a man who was straining not to move, to rise from his seat to come gather him up in his arms and never let anyone else touch him again. 

He was fucking good at pretending, at the very least. If it hadn’t been for Fit telling him, he wouldn’t have noticed. Some fucking wife he was. 

“This was his idea, you know.”

"This is torture for him. He just thought you'd enjoy yourself. " Fit squinted at him. "Are you not?"

"No, no, Christ, I am." The words were like molasses out of his dry mouth, "I am enjoying myself. A lot."

Too much, a treacherous voice in his head told him. There his husband was, white knuckled with the effort to hold himself back, for his amusement, giving him what he thought was freedom, a taste of something he thought Mariana missed terribly, something he thought he couldn't give, and Mariana jumped on it, like the whore he was.

And yet… wasn't that, somehow, what ownership was about?

Through fuzzy vision, he looked down at his left hand, at the ring on his finger, shining in the moody strobes.

Despite everything that was happening around him, all these people touching him, heckling him, unzipping their pants ready to be serviced, at the end of the day, he was staring at his husband, mesmerised by his translucent skin, his faux-relaxed posture, the moon shine in his eyes on him. No matter how tonight went, at the end of it Charlie would come pick up the pieces and bring him home to build him whole again.

He always did give the most in this relationship. Much more than Mariana deserved. 

Fit had risen on his feet, a hand on his belt.

"Feel up to sucking my cock, baby girl?"

Mariana ripped his eyes away from his husband for a moment, to stare up at Fit, nod. Underneath the rush of blood in his ears and voices around him, all those forgotten people suddenly coming back into sharp focus, the clinking of a belt, the hiss of a zipper were gunshot-loud.

This was his first cock of the night, he thought, distant, delirious. Well, there were worse people to start with than Fit. 

He was still facing his husband when Fit pulled his cock from his boxers, and shuffled a bit closer to him. Christ, he was big. Thick, cut, with a neat little patch of hair around his base, proud, leaning slightly to the right, tip moist with a pearl of sticky pre. Handsome enough to make his mouth water, smelling of clean sweat and little else. He leant towards it, closed his eyes for the first taste, sweeping his tongue across the tip to pick up that wetness, let it cover his mouth. Musky, salty, bitter. He immediately had to go back for more, wrapped his lips around the tip to give a few luxurious sucks; hands were making their way in his hair and gripping. His guidance was gentle, but sure; he pulled him in, slow and steady until his nose was buried in his bush and his throat was constricting uncomfortably around his cockhead, and then slow and steady he pulled him off, let him lap long lines up the shaft, and then up and up to slurp around the tip.

Charlie was still staring at them; he'd better give him a good fucking show.

So he turned halfway towards Fit, his hands rose to grasp at rough denim on powerful hips as if trying to pull him closer. Fit chuckled above him; it was a breathy little noise.

"Hungry little thing, ain'tcha?"

A pause, a still hand on his hair; Mariana imagined Fit turning towards his husband, one eyebrow raised, and his husband, moonlit-kingly under strobes, divine in his jealousy, cocking his head in a curt nod.

Noise exploded in his ears when Fit slammed in his mouth for real. 

Distantly, he remembered about everyone else.

They'd gotten closer, watching like hawks; cheers and encouragement bled into his ears, melting and moulding into one continuous lament. Someone had placed his hands on Mariana's shoulders, and he was grateful for the warm, steadying touch, an anchor under the storm of Fit's thrusting. 

He opened his eyes, blinked and blinked the tears from his eyes—unknowing if they were from overstimulation or raw emotion. Fit's eyebrows were scrunched together above him, the handsome face of concentrated focus as he kept his rhythm even; around him, people had pulled their cocks out, were jerking off in frantic, uneven strokes.

He glanced around the room. Foolish had left, and for some reason he was happy about it; some people had moved to the couches around the stage, Wilbur and Forever, hands flying up and down in their laps, Philza next to Wilbur, a tent in his pants, interested and stoic, and Mariana didn’t know if he was looking at him or the young man next to him. 

Then Maximus was above him, he was back, the hands on his shoulders were his, and he could feel the cold bite of plastic barely brushing against his earlobe. He looked back at his husband; when their eyes met, this time, Charlie didn't avoid him. 

They looked each other in the eyes as Fit's hips started stuttering, his hands got tight and unforgiving in his hair. He pulled him off, something heavy in his breath, a fist tight around the base of his cock as if wanting to guide it back inside; then a hand cradled his cheek and pulled him backwards. 

Plastic, cold against his skin, nuzzled up against his cheek, and he turned his face to accept Maximus' strap between his lips. It was oddly shaped, and cold, but Maxo was thrusting with abandon, mumbling something incoherent about how pretty he looked, and it was easy to get lost into shocking sensation, into pain blooming in the back of his throat with every thrust. Every once in a while, a cockhead brushed against his cheek, moist and spongy on his skin; he reached a hand up for it, revelled in the feeling of scorching skin, of curly hair at the base. When he cracked his eyes open to look up at Fit, found him a gentlemanly half foot away, hand curled around his own cock; and Roier very close, jerking himself in long strokes over his face with a grin, Cellbit,  Quackity next to them, a hand outreached. Maximus let him take his place gripping Mariana’s hair, and he let himself be pulled off Maxo; his lips tingled, his jaw ached, and still his eyes slipped close, drunk on sex; and he stuck his tongue out when his lovers got close, close enough that he could smell their musk, that their low groans were filling his ears.

For some reason, the sudden sensation of something warm and wet dribbling on his face still caught him off guard. Drip, drip, drip, on his forehead, his nose, his chin, his lips, his hair. Some was even dripping from his glasses, he realised as he opened his eyes, found his eyesight blocked off by milky residue. Someone plucked his glasses off his face, and he was left halfway between gratitude and displeasure. He glanced at Charlie. He was little more than a green shape, now, and he mourned being able to look his husband in the eye. He tried anyway, and imagined it granted him a smile.

"Hey, I've got an idea." Fit said, the Devil on his tongue, but he was panting. "Why don't we let the missus lay back a little, eh? Get him flat on the floor. I'm sure Quackity wants a turn with that pretty mouth as well."

“Fit,” Quackity hissed, “this is why I fucking love you.”

The clinking of a belt, the rustling of clothes, as the circle of people around him dissolved, the air got lighter. Gentle hands on his shoulders, on his cheeks, wiping some spunk away and gently lowering him to the floor.

The cold tile was a blessed fucking relief against his magma-hot skin. 

Short-lived, though.

Soon as he turned his head to press his cheek flat against the floor, soiled with spunk as he was, something warm and heavy sat on his chest, long legs wrapped around his head, he was hit in the face with the bright, musky smell of fresh arousal. He looked up at the vague shape of Quackity above him, got a flash of teeth in exchange.

"Ready for the next round, Marianita?" 

Mariana couldn't have told you what it was that Quackity had said. "Me duele la mandíbula."

"Too bad." The tinny sound of laughter, a fist tight in his hair. His arms reached up to wind around Quackity's thighs and pull him close just as he sat his weight down on Mariana, and he went to work on his cunt.

He always thought of himself as pretty good at eating people out. Charlie never complained, at the very least. But Quackity rode him like a man possessed; his thighs were pressed tight around Mariana's temples, his hands pulled and pulled on his hair, his cock was hot and heavy on his tongue, he was dripping, dripping down Mariana's chin, and he was powerless under the rolling assault. He liked it all the same. He was hard as fucking obsidian again, and Quackity's wheezy groans above him as he took his pleasure, shameless and with no regard for him, weren’t helping. He did the best he could, all the same; tongued up inside Quackity, fucked him deep before wrapping his lips around his cock and sucking, then lapped up and down his puffy labia, again and again and again, in rhythm with his thrusting, the quivering of his thighs, until Quackity went still around him with a gasp, and his mouth was filled with the musky flavour of an orgasm. 

He went limp, arms splayed out on the floor; when Quackity lifted off of him, he realised he was short of breath.

As he panted, long and slow trying to regain his rhythm, warm hands were on him, and the tickle of acrylic nails; a plastic bottle was pressed to his lips, thankfully frigid, and he drank until there wasn’t any water left to drink.

“¿Cómo estás, Mariana?” Roier’s voice said in his ear, too close, kinder than he’d been all night.

“Ch… Charlie…” he heard himself croak out, and, for just a moment, he was embarrassed of his own clinginess.

A moment of pause, some rustling around him, louder voices, incoherent. 

Then, the tart smell of lime and hormones enveloped him, like a balm on aching wounds, and his arms moved on their own, seeking the comforting coolness of his husband’s skin.

“Hola, Mariana,” Charlie said, and the Spanish sounded stilted on his lips, but Mariana didn’t mind. “Cómo , eh, cómo te sientes?”

“Bésame,” he wheezed, “Charlie, bésame.”

Charlie did. He wasn’t even embarrassed about calling his husband by his given name, instead of that stupid nickname, because as soon as their lips touched, his body lurched, starving for the familiar press of cool lips, of tender fingers on his swiping drying spunk away, and they went back to the familiar song and dance, the run and chase, lick into his mouth just to hear him groan and let him bite your tongue until you hiss; the taste of liquor in Charlie’s mouth had subsided, and now the only thing left was the lime, and a vague scent of coconut.

“You did so good, you looked so pretty,” Charlie was gasping in his mouth, and his hands were around his waist now, “Mariana, are you happy?”

What loaded words.

“Ahora sí, ahora que estás conmigo.”

The thing was, he couldn’t even blame alcohol on this sudden clinginess, this… emotional honesty that a few hours ago would have made his stomach churn uncomfortably. He’d had one drink; the high had come and gone, and now the only intoxication he needed came from his husband against him, and he clambered on his lap, uncoordinated, panting. His cock brushed against Charlie’s clothed belly, and, flashbang-sudden, feeling returned in all his limbs, only to leave again, electricity flowing through his nerves for a split second before flushing out of him. He gasped, his limbs failed him, dropped him in Charlie’s embrace with his laughter in his ears.

“Oh, right. This little problem of yours.” Charlie’s voice was the only thing in his ears, amused, tight with something unpleasant. “Do you want all our friends to fuck you? They seem very eager to.”

He shook his head, suddenly delirious with need, buried his face in the crook of Charlie’s neck. “Soy tuyo. Solo tuyo. Tomame, Charlie.”

He really was about to start begging in English, but, apparently, his incoherent Spanish had been enough for Charlie. Startlingly delicate, shivering with badly contained desire, hands cupped his face to bring him up in a kiss, slow, sweet.

“Say no more, Mariana.”

Together—or, well, with Charlie doing most of the work, they managed to turn him around, back to Charlie’s chest, finally pull off that stupid dress, soiled with sweat and hormones and cum, and his skin could finally breathe.

Someone whistled, and Mariana didn’t care, because Charlie’s hands were on him. He carded a hand through dark hair, took it back love-sticky, and immediately trailed it down Mariana’s body, butterfly light on sweaty, oversensitive skin, danced around his cock to slip two fingers inside him, easy as butter. Quackity and Maximus had done a good job stretching him open, and Charlie knew him inside and out. He found his prostate almost instantly, brushed against it once, twice, every time sent sparks flying up Mariana’s spine, made him twitch with pleasure. His husband scissored his fingers a few times, slow and languid, murmuring in Mariana’s ear words that he didn’t understand, and he missed the hiss of a zipper, the rustling of cotton. Strong hands lifted him up, and suddenly something cool and slick was at his entrance, something familiar and beloved. He threw an arm backwards around his husband’s neck, just as his cock brushed against him, open and quivering, groaned his desire out loud for everyone to hear. He was so empty.

“Just put it in,” he gasped, low enough that only his Charlie could hear, “Please.”

Charlie thrust in. Filled him to the brim and back, and, Christ, he was cold, he always was, but right now that was exactly what he needed. Through the roar of voices in his ears, all he could understand were the arms around him, the semblance of skin, too tacky to be anything but, the too-slick feeling of something unnaturally long inside him. His husband started on a rhythm, and he tried to meet it, bouncing up and down on his lap, stark naked in front of basically the whole fucking server, singing his pleasure for them, but mostly for Charlie. Charlie, groaning behind him, weird, alien noises, like the echo of water dripping in a cave, of moonlight moving tides, and everywhere his cool hands touched left a sticky film behind that, he imagined, marked him definitely as taken, as possessed.

“God,” his husband was saying behind him, and it sounded like producing human words was a struggle, “God, Mariana, you feel so good. So good for me.”

“For you,” he heard himself wheeze out, “only for you. Harder, please, harder.”

Harder he went. They shifted, in sync, Mariana leaned forwards and Charlie leaned backwards, and now his cock was nailing his prostate on every thrust. A hand snaked around him, slick and cool, and suddenly he was thrown back to the beginning of this night, to a rushed hand job in the privacy of their home to chase away trepidation. His husband gasped behind him, his hips stuttered; something cool spurted inside him, dripped down his thighs to go wet the lace of his garter with every thrust. Charlie kept fucking him until he came, until his legs shook with the strength of his final orgasm and his release arced in delicate drips on his own chest.

Every voice around him faded into the background.

The only thing left was Charlie, hugging him too tight, as he slipped out of him.

“Let’s go home,” he was saying. “Let’s go home.”

[buttonsfleas]

@mostlypencils

So I saw this comment on my post I made earlier about a possessd andy script thing where he attempts to shoot Kyle but unfortunately fails lol so enjoy it now!

I'm not myself.

Andy being posessed by chucky lil scene script where he attempts to kill kyle

BTW this is reeeaallly short since this is the first script of a scene I've ever made of anything and it's really short but pls don't get mad at me bc it's probably a lil bad too 😭

• btw, when he sees blood like Nica, he instantly change

• and I wrote this how I thought a script looks like but tbh idk what one looks like and this is shorter then a piece of glitter so sorry 😂😭

Kyle was in her ranch-style house and had just answered her door to surprisingly, Andy. But, Andy didn't seem like himself. He was dressed up in a black tux with a white shirt and red tie and black loafers. The time was 9pm and everyone on her block were asleep.

Kyle:

Hey, Andy. What are you doing here?

Andy:

Oh you know, just came for a quick hi.

Kyle:

Well, come in, it's cold.

Kyle welcomes Andy in and the screen skips time to them both in Kyle's modern kitchen.

Kyle and Andy were in the middle of a conversation whilst Kyle had a coffee and Andy had a beer.

Kyle:

So, still no nightmares?

Andy:

No. Have you?...

Andy asks with one eyebrow raised with a slight frown.

Kyle:

Andy, he died a while ago and won't come back. You know I don't.

Andy:

Well, I'm sorry to break the news to you Kyle, but what can I say? He has risen.

Andy smirks and takes a gun out of one of his back pockets and aims the gun at Kyle's heart. Kyle gets startled and puts her hands up with a slight shake of fear.

Kyle:

A-andy...what's going on?

Andy:

You just got too comfortable without worrying about me coming back, didn't ya?

Andy's Hazel eyes transition into a glow of blue and transition back into Hazel.

Kyle:

Andy...don't do this...

Andy:

You thought I'd leave you and Andy to rot in piece, huh!?

Andy shakes violently whilst holding the gun at Kyle's heart. He steps forward whilst she steps back at little.

Kyle:

N-no...

Kyle is visibly uncomfortable and anxious whilst Andy has a smile or mischief and revenge.

Andy:

Fucking hell, I never you you'd be able to not pull a gun out on me.

Kyle:

W-well...I just never expected this...

Whilst Andy is rambling om about Chucky's revenge, Kyle slides her hand into one of the kitchen drawers and pulls a gun out and then aims the gun in the middle of Andy's eyes.

Kyle:

Fuck off, Chucky...I don't want Andy to be in this state anymore...

Andy:

Well, here's our game. You can kill me, you kill Andy, or, you can drop the fucking gun and own up for how many times you've slipped away from me.

Kyle puts the gun down on the counter but accidentally slips her hand on a knife that was on the chopping board when she was making herself a salad. Her palm bleeds and Andy looks at it before falling down and becoming unconscious.

Later that evening, Andy's Hazel eyes flutter back open and he sees himself laying on Kyle's couch. Kyle was standing up and watching over Andy whilst walking back and fourth in a line across the room.

Andy:

W-what...happened?...

Kyle:

Suprise, dick. You're now chucky.

Andy:

Yeah, I know that but why am I here? Are you okay?

Kyle:

I'm as fine as I was were before you showed up. You?

Andy:

I'm alright.

Kyle:

Well, you owe me one after nearly murdering me!

Andy:

Yeah, right, see what Chucky says.

Andy sits up and looks around at his surroundings before focusing on Kyle again as she gives him his beer from before.

Andy:

How will we get rid of him?

Kyle:

Well, we either Damballa or exorcism you, but exorcism isn't a choice we've got this year so Damballa it is.

Andy:

Why can't we do an exorcism?

Kyle:

Well can we just find a priest and tell them before they think we're insane!?

Andy:

...no...in some cases...

Kyle:

Look, all we have to do is find that little doll and get him into that body before you go out to get milk without paying.

Andy:

How will we though?

Kyle:

We'll figure it out soon.

[eddywoww]

I live in a more conservative area in the US. My family isn't, but whatever. Being LGBT was looked down upon in this area, my parents made sure to tell me it was ok and people were close minded (hell they even left the church they went to and started their own). They were great parents.

That being said the surrounding area was not. Got bullied in school for being gay, even though I simply was just focused on academics. I wanted an A more than I wanted the D am I right? Hm. It frustrated me because no one even asked and I was straight. This went on from when I was 10 to 17, when I finally graduated and got out of that area. The bullying was intense, from something as simple as name calling to having group projects turned in without my name but slurs on it to getting physically pushed around and shoved.

I went to college and met some cool people. Went to a pride parade as an ally. Started learning about different labels. Proclaimed to be demisexual with a desire for men because I still didn't really have any sexual desire and again, focused on school.

When I was 21 I moved to an entire new area for my job. Met a girl in her 30s who has a kid (12 or 13 at the time I dont remember) who came out as nonbinary and pan. Good for them! The woman was an "ally" except-

Tried forcing me to come out. Many times. Put me in secret uncomfortable situations. Some highlights of things she did were: take me to a gay bar without telling me thats where we were and then paying someone to kiss me and then kept asking if I realized I was gay because I didn't push the person away (I was shocked), after I claimed I was demisexual claimed that I had repressed my sexuality because society inherently tells you to be straight and that I was truly a lesbian, would claim I was a virgin if I never slept with a man because a woman couldn't take that so if i had "religious trauma" and wouldn't sleep with anyone based on keeping virginity i could with a woman and be fine (which I dont have any, my parents formed that church and were all inclusive and its a safe space hell they even organized pride events before the town did), and the worst of all got me drunker then I've ever been to the point I could barely stand and left me with a guy who had a crush on me who kept coming onto me. She talked to him and I saw her wink at him and she left me with this dude who got too handsy if you know what I mean. Nothing under the clothes happened thank God, and really it was my own fault for drinking so much at her place *she had many people over, I actually drank less then other people but still*. I asked why she left me with him and she said she was tired, then later said she wasn't surprised he tried anything and then said "well you're definitely gonna be gay now and not want to be with a man".

I left that area behind as my career progressed and it hit me, damn she was kinda fucked up. Kissed a few people and realized hold on I do have a sexual drive hello, and I dont have to get to know people first to have it?? Not demi then. Cool! Realised that the woman kinda fucked me up. I'm doing therapy which...is ok. But I got on Tumblr and have been on

And I've met some cool people. I've realized huh I guess a straight person doesn't think about boobs and vaginas while they get off. The dicks made sense, but the rest? And it hit me Holy shit im bi?? I think??

In my mind, being LGBT was okay but ME oh no suddenly it was the worst thing in the world. And im realizing its okay for me. Idk why I thought it wasn't except for the intense bullying. One thing that made me realize was everyone on tumblr. Like I said I met some cool people. I havent sent everyone a message because I want to be anonymous still. But you're one of the people who have helped me realize its ok. It is okay for me! So thank you for that. One of your fics really helped when I was first struggling with the realization and...thank you. It may not seem like a big thing to you, but its changed my life.

Thank you so much for sending me this. Like actually truly.

First of all, I’m so sorry for the situation with your ex friend. I can’t stand when people need to push and push to get the reaction THEY want, it sickens me deeply. Im sorry you went through that and I’m so happy you’re in therapy and that you’ve discovered yourself now.

It actually IS big to me when I hear about bisexual people accepting themselves. I don’t talk about it here much but I too grew up in a conservative area. I dropped out of school for bullying, etc but had the opposite story of knowing I was bisexual very young and not knowing how to word it? I just knew it was “bad” and I went to church a lot and I needed to repent for it. So I get that part in a warped way.

I think it gets to me for a very personal reason. There’s this inherent shake when you’ve been made to feel bad about your sexuality that resurfaces at random. I had an ex boyfriend who was obsessed with my sexuality in the opposite way. He was abusive and thought I was cheating constantly with my best friend, would call me a d*ke and a f*g constantly (almost always before some sort of physical abuse) and I was just deeply ashamed of my self, to the point of being biphobic at points.

What I’m getting at here is I came out after we broke up and I expected it to be this dawn of time shit because my family is accepting too! And I remember my mom getting upset and going, “Are you sure this isn’t about your breakup? Are you okay?” And I kind of just wanted to fucking scream. Or the way family members treat it like I’m divulging some sort of sexual secret. My sister coming out as bi years later really helped me. Dating someone who both did not care and didn’t want to sexualize me made it better.

In between all that, I ended up dating a girl who I could tell from the get go doesn’t see me (still now as friends) as “gay enough”. None of my struggle or my problems are the same, none of my fears are warranted, etc. that’s fine. I don’t need suffering to know who I am. What I’m trying to get at is even after years there are still tiny things that eat away at me but I’ve learned coping skills and developed friendships that make me feel so much better. And hearing stories from other people helps so much too. So thank you for telling me yours, it means a lot to me. I know you weren’t asking for a wordy response but I just woke up and I’m a sensitive bitch 😂

I’m sorry for the things you’ve gone through and I wish the world had been kinder to a young you. I’m glad you’re better now and if you ever need to message someone (if you ever choose to not be anon) I’m around ☺️💕

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

I Am Batman Part 5

Jason is tricky in this au cause like... Bryce kinda just takes him in. She has no way to explain to Dick why... until she points at Gotham who just goes: Huh, oh yes, I did didn't I?

Dick is... 17 when this happens and Jason is thirteen. Dick is thrilled to have a baby brother honestly. Alfred is just happy to have someone who likes the arts and who likes running the shop. Jason happily leaves the farm work to them.

Like no, really in my head Jason HATES farm work. He's a city boy to his bone. meanwhile his mom and older brother are hauling hay, scooping up chickens and are covered in stuff. (his other siblings are to)

it gets worse when they get the cows and pigs Bryce has wanted forever.

Of course, like Jason joining the family is hard. it's an adjustment for him and for the others, plus training him. He wants to join them, of course, and they end up going with him being a spirit of Childhood Homelessness/Poverty.

But it's... HARD. For them all. He slowly begins trusting them, and joins them on patrol at age fourteen.

More dangerous Rogues have been slipping out of the dark. Mad Hatter, Professor Pyg, Clayface, Killer Croc...

Scarecrow comes a month after Jason starts. it's not pretty.

Still, they work hard and slowly things seem to be okay. They seem fine. The family is good, Bryce knows things are great-

Then Joker comes. He destroys a hospital his first day in the city.

Gotham HATES him.

Like no really: Joker is a sickness upon the world and Gotham loathes him. Gotham keeps trying to kill him but nothing sticks. Ever.

Also, because I feel I need to toss this out: Bryce doesn’t kill. It’s out of respect to who Bruce was and because she just isn’t the type to kill either.

Of course she knows if Jason ends up like his canon self… all bets are off.

But anyway so they’re dealing with Joker. Jason is gaining some fame as well as the new Spirit. They call him Street Rat/Rat. With him around people actually begin trying with homelessness. It’s nice.

But anyway… honestly Jason has a way better time with this. Bryce listens to him more, helps him with his anger, Dick likes him and it’s just… so fucking happy.

Then Barbara at age nineteen gets shot by the Joker and paralyzed.

This is when Bryce makes a choice: "We don't kill. I don't want our hands bloody. But if it's you or him, come back alive." that's her word on the Joker. And how they deal with him after he attacks Babs is brutal.

With Batgirl missing they make a plan to have Batgirl 'die' due to 'corruption lingering and choking out the few good ones' given while her dad is rising, it's slower in this world where there isn't a Bruce Wayne funding clean ups.

Barbara and Dick break up due to a lot of stress from everything and this causes a fight with Bryce cause she's like: hey let her breathe to Dick.

Dick runs off to Bludhaven to be the Talon there. Bryce is now left with Jason and she's trying her best.

Given Bryce and Jason talk more, he tells her about finding out he was adopted by whom he thought to be his mom. (Side note: Jason has a lot of feelings about Bryce and her connection to him given he had a mom he loved even if she had her own demons. But he can't call her mom nor does she ask him to. To much.)

Thanks to this, they find out about her illegal activities and Jason decides not to go to her. It should be okay.

But nature hates a vacuum. And without Bruce Wayne being a good person in this AU, corruption at that level has risen high.

The Drakes die mysteriously, and Alfred finds a boy knocking at the shop, asking to speak to: Batman. Or her kids.

It's Tim Drake, and he has a story. Turns out his parents got into some trouble over their artifacts they brought back, and nearly bankrupted the company paying it off. People who were embezzling didn't like that.

Tim Drake knows who they are as Dixon White is a volunteer at a kid's center and he saw a quadruple somersault, the same one the Flying Graysons could do, the only people who could. (Que everyone giving Dick the stink eye)

Tim Drake is now a target. So Bryce steps in. It doesn't take to much honestly, these guys are overconfident and sloppy.

But they do hire the Joker who is only willing to given Batman is involved.

With the Joker, his thing with Batman is much more intense here. If he truly thinks he's a being or not, no one can tell. All anyone knows is that he is very intense with Batman, and the kids.

So he's more then willing to try and catch the bat.

It's messy, dangerous and as I said: nature hates a vacuum.

Jason is in a warehouse owned by Drake Industries when it blows up, Joker trapping him. Jason lives, but he has multiple burns and is badly injured. Tim was in the warehouse to though.

Tim doesn't make it. They bury a boy to young, and the city mourns. Bryce is just horrified and confused.

Around this time as well, they discover that the WE CEO has been hiding the Wayne Will. (The public death of a child that is proven to be caused by DI employees makes people vicious.)

And what do people discover? Thomas Wayne's bastard daughter, the person he left his stocks, and a portion of his wealth to.