#📞

[transredguy]

ah the world is so beuatiful and wonderfull peace on earth forever and foreevr

[halloween-sweets]

[h-c-u]

Bose with the Boss

Summary: Toto has to stay in the office late, but that doesn't mean he can't help you in different ways.

Pairing: Toto Wolff x shy fem!reader

W/C: 4.8k

Rating: +18, age gap, daddy kink, dirty talk, praise kink, dom/sub, phone sex, guided masturbation, cockwarming (if you squint), somnophilia

A/N: I will never be able to look at my headphones the same way. BTW - does anyone know how to get on Bose PR list? Asking for a friend...

Masterlist | List of tags

It was getting really late...

You knew what you were getting into when you started a relationship with such a powerful and important man, but there were moments when you hated that he had so many things to think about, because when he was taking care of them, he wasn't taking care of you. It's not like you resented him for it, but there were times when you just felt lonely, and this evening was one of those times.

With a heavy sigh, you put away the dinner you hoped to eat with him, opened a bottle of wine, and poured yourself a glass. The house you came to love seemed too big and quiet right now, and you honestly didn't have the energy to do anything, so you just moved to the bedroom and changed into a shirt he wore yesterday to trick your brain into thinking that he was near. With a pilot, you turned on the fireplace and after a few minutes of staring mindlessly into the fire, you decided to call him. It was late and it was a wind-tunnel day, so you suspected he wouldn't answer because he was still with the team, going over the results, but to your surprise he did.

- I'm sorry I'm not home yet, Schatzi... - he started with an apology, which was both good and bad. Good, because even though he didn't say he'll be back for dinner, he still felt guilty for leaving you alone for so long, and bad, because it meant that he wouldn't be back soon.

- Tunnel day, I understand... - you said, your voice much quieter than you wanted it to be, but that made him realize that something wasn't exactly right. And the fact that you logically understood why he had to stay longer didn't change how you felt. But you weren't going to take it out on him; he didn't deserve it.

- What's wrong...? - you could hear the creaking of the chair, which meant that he turned around from the screens and now you had his undivided attention, even if he wasn't as close as you wanted him to be.

You wanted to say it was nothing, that everything was fine, but the lie got stuck in your throat. Well, not exactly a lie, but also nothing serious enough to burden him with, especially when his work most likely already emotionally drained him.

- I feel alone... And I miss you... - you whispered eventually after a long moment of silence. It was still hard for you to be vulnerable with anyone, but it was something you were actively working on.

- Oh, Schatzi... - his voice was dripping with guilt because he hated making you feel like that.

- I have wine, I turned on the fireplace, I'm in your shirt... I'm going to be ok, I just wanted to hear your voice. - you almost instantly tried to make him feel better, which wasn't the healthiest response, but it was the only one that came to the surface. You heard a loud sigh from the other side of the phone, and for a moment you felt bad for bringing it up. In the end, you were living in his house, on his money and you could do whatever you wanted without any worries thanks to him... And yet you still dared to crave more...

- I'll make it up to you, I promise... - you couldn't help but smile, because you knew that his word was his bond, and you couldn't wait to see what he'll come up with.

- Are you alone...? - you asked in a barely audible whisper. You weren't sure if it was loneliness, the wine, or the mix of both, but you needed something from him.

- I am... - he replied in a soft, deep voice, that by some miracle was able to make you feel warm all over.

- Could you...? I need... - even though you were completely alone, you still couldn't say what you wanted out loud. - Please...? - you knew you didn't have to finish the request for him to know what you needed; the desperation in your voice was louder than any words. There was a very subtle chuckle from the other side of the line, but you knew he wasn't making fun of you.

- Do you need Daddy to tell you what you want...? - he almost growled and you felt the blush spilling all over your cheeks and down your chest. Out of instinct, you nodded enthusiastically, forgetting that he couldn't exactly see you at the moment. - Use your words, Princess... - the wave of embarrassment instantly washed over you.

- Yes... - you whispered into the phone, hoping that the microphone would pick up your quiet voice.

- Yes what...? - there was no need to be as embarrassed as you were. Having needs and wants was normal. But you still needed a moment to gather the courage to say what he wanted to hear out loud.

- Yes, I need you to tell me what to do, Daddy. - as soon as the words left your mouth, you felt the warmth traveling down your body.

- Get the headphones from my nightstand, since you'll need both of your hands today, Princess... - you instantly rolled over to his side of the bed, turned the headphones on, paired them to your phone, and put them on your head.

- Done... - you said, but you didn't move back just yet.

- That's my good girl... - you felt his deep voice traveling down your spine, and your eyelids fluttered involuntarily from the sensation, but you wouldn't dare to lower the volume; not when Toto's voice reached the places you didn't even know needed scratching. - Now take out that special toy Daddy bought for you... - you did as he asked, feeling his every word in the back of your neck and you had to bite your lip not to flinch. - Do you have it...?

- Yes... - you whispered. Or at least you thought you did, because you weren't able to hear your own voice through the noise-canceling headphones.

- Perfect... But we're not going to use it just yet, Princess. I want you to lean back on all those pillows you made me get, and close your eyes. - he gave you a moment to follow his instructions and then he continued. - Now put two of your beautiful fingers in your mouth and make them all nice and wet for me... - you would do anything he asked of you right now, because his voice was shooting straight through every single part of your brain, consuming anything else. - You know how Daddy always places a string of kisses along your jaw and down your neck...? I want you slowly trace it with those two fingers... Gently, don't put much pressure... - you took your time moving your hand right below your earlobe and slowly glided your fingers over your skin, leaving a wet path behind. Wetness soon turned into cold, which shot straight to your nipples, because that's where usually Toto's mouth went next. Even though you were the one responsible for this sensation, the delay in your barely noticeable touch and the coldness made it easier to imagine that it was someone else. - Now wet your fingers again and go a little bit lower, in between your breasts... And come back up. - his voice shot through your core again and you did exactly as he requested. - Tell me, Princess... Are your nipples already hard and perked up...? - the confidence in his voice was contrasting with the blush that instantly covered your cheeks. And you were the one who was alone in your house, while he was at the factory where anyone could enter his office at any time.

- Yes... - you whispered quietly. You wanted to hide your face from embarrassment, but there was no one to hide from.

- Yes what...? - he urged you to continue.

- Yes, Daddy... My nipples are hard... - you bit your lip right after the words left your mouth.

- You're doing amazing, Princess... - the praise was so genuine that you almost melted into the pillows below you. - Now gently pinch and roll them in between your fingers, just like Daddy does... - you moved both of your hands down to undo the first few buttons of Toto's shirt and slid your hands under the white material to follow his instructions, and as soon as your fingers fount their destination, you couldn't help but moan, even before you continued... You barely did anything, but his voice dominating everything else managed to rile you up so well, that you could feel the wetness gathering on your folds already. - Louder... - you could just say that he was smiling, hearing how strong of an effect he had over you. So, when you finally rolled your fingers, you let the moan slip from your lips uninterrupted. - Come on, Schatzi, it's just me and you... Louder... I know you can do it. - for him, you could do anything... So, the next time you tightened your fingers, you went all in... You could feel your own moan vibrating through your chest, even though you could barely hear it through the headphones. - That's my girl... Again. - how could you say no when he was speaking in such a commanding voice?

Your cheeks were hot from the arousal, your lips dry and puffy from the constant biting and sucking, but somehow you could still feel the trail of coldness left by your own fingers on your skin, and it felt like his ghost was there with you. Electricity was buzzing in your nerve endings, and your whole body was singing for more, but you didn't dare to do anything he didn't tell you to do.

- Run your fingers through your folds for me... - one of your hands instantly shot down. - How wet are you, Princess? - you had to take a deep breath before you answered because you knew that one word just wouldn’t be enough for him. He wanted to push your boundaries, force you out of your comfort zone and make you feel so good as a reward... Sooner or later you would have to be a bit more descriptive, so why put yourself through the embarrassment twice...?

- I'm soaked, Daddy... There was barely any resistance when my fingers glided... Glided through m-your pussy... - you could feel the uncomfortable heat pooling in all the wrong places. He hummed, clearly pleased at your choice of words.

- Hmmm... What did I do to deserve such a good girl...? - his voice shot all the way through your spine once again. - And good girls like you deserve a reward... - even when he didn't tell you to do anything, your breath was still quicker than usual, and you could feel your walls involuntarily clenching around nothing. - Get the toy, Princess... Run it through your folds, but no dipping just yet. Make it all nice and slick first. - you fumbled for a moment in search of the vibrator you pulled from the nightstand earlier.

At first, you just wet the tip without putting any pressure, because you were afraid of the sounds that would have come out of your mouth if you did. But eventually, you had to change the angle, and you ended up gently nudging your already oversensitive clit, which made you shiver and moan even louder than before.

- Beautiful... Don't hold back, Schatzi. You have a voice of an angel... - you weren't sure if the heat in your cheeks was from his compliments or from your arousal, but it was definitely there.

The smooth silicon was gliding through your folds without any resistance in no time, and you couldn't help but wonder if the microphone picked up all the sounds your soaked pussy must have been making... You couldn't hear them yourself because of the headphones, but you were sure they were there.

- Turn it on, lowest setting... And hold it just above your lovely clit. Let the vibrations travel through your skin and bone and tease you for a moment. - as soon as you pressed the vibrator in the spot he was talking about, your whole body curled up, and out of instinct, you covered your mouth with your hand, because you didn't want to be too loud, but you still didn't move the toy. Even the slightest stimulation traveled deep into your core, reaching not only the exposed bundle of nerves but the parts that were hidden where they usually couldn't be reached. - Schatzi... - he warned you, and you instantly realized what you did wrong. But instead of punishing you, he was giving you a chance to correct that mistake.

- Sorry, Daddy... - you mumbled, right after the vibrations tore a loud moan from between your now uncovered lips.

- Good girl... Now stop. - you moved the toy away from your pussy, but you didn't turn it off. You felt a thin layer of sweat already gathering on your skin and being almost instantly absorbed by Toto's shirt. Your hair was sticking to your face, but you couldn't find enough care to move the strands away, because your whole brain was consumed by the need to get closer to that hot-white, overwhelming pleasure.

But he remained silent...

- Daddy...? - for a moment you were afraid that the connection dropped or that he hung up.

- Yes, Princess...? - his deep voice was both like a cooling pad for your brain and a heating one for your body. But now he was just being mean... He knew how close you were, yet he still chose to mercilessly tease you. You also knew what he wanted you to say, and why he wanted you to say it... He enjoyed making you all embarrassed and flustered, but by forcing you to word your wants and needs, he was actually helping you in the long run. Still, that didn't change the fact that using your orgasm as leverage wasn't something you enjoyed.

- Can I please put the vibrator inside me, turn it to the highest setting, and cum...? - you finally asked, the words leaving your mouth so quickly, that you were afraid they all merged into one.

- Since you asked so nicely... - you could feel the pride in his voice. It was such a small thing, but it was really far out of your comfort zone, and he understood that better than anyone else. - And let me hear it, Princess... - you carefully pushed the toy deeper inside you, trying to find the right angle, and when you did, your knees flew open and your hips rose up, trying to accommodate and meet someone that wasn't there... By the sounds you made, Toto instantly realized what happened. - You're doing such a good job... - his deep voice rumbled through your whole body, as you were struggling to catch your breath. He was so composed compared to you, and even though you couldn't see him, you knew, there was not a hair out of place and not a wrinkle on his clothes, while you were a whining mess, barely able to control your moves, not to mention the sounds you were making...

You finally got enough brainpower to turn up the settings, and your moans became higher and more frequent, even though you were currently clenching your teeth from all the sensations; you didn't even have to move the toy inside you, because the constant stimulation of your g-spot was already pulling you to the top. You wouldn't be able to last long like that, but that wasn't the point... He wanted you to feel good, even though he wasn't there to help with that.

You didn't realize when you turned to your side and pulled your knees to your chest so close, that you were able to rest your sweaty forehead on them. You felt the tears streaming down your cheeks from your shut eyes, and you were no longer moaning... There was only a high, steady sound escaping your mouth through your bitten lip and then it happened.

- That's it... That's my good girl... - you heard Toto's voice just as you were being violently pushed over the edge. Your body uncurled with such force that few of the pillows were thrown off the bed, and one of the still-closed buttons of Toto's shirt flew somewhere nowhere to be found again. And then you collapsed and buried yourself deeper in the pillows below you with the vibrating toy still inside you, but it was no longer pressing against your g-spot, so you were able to catch a breath. - You did so well, Princess... - you couldn't help the smile that bloomed on your face.

- Thank you... - you mumbled into the soft material of the pillow, so you weren't exactly sure how eligible it was. You reached down to turn off the toy, but you couldn't bring yourself to take it out just yet, because somehow it made you feel less alone.

- I love you, Schatzi... Go to sleep, I'll be there when you wake up, I promise... - your mind was already drifting somewhere far away, but his words cut through the pleasant fog and gave you an idea. With your eyes still closed, you reached to the drawer of your nightstand, pulled out a small figurine, and placed it on top, right next to an unfinished glass of wine.

- I love you too... - you responded automatically, almost as a reflex or muscle memory, but it didn't change the fact that it was true. You didn't hear the sound that indicated that the call was disconnected, because you were already asleep.

Toto knew you were asleep, that’s why he did his best not to make any sounds when he entered your home. He reset the alarm, took his shoes and the jacket off, and left his bag, phone, and keys on the dining room table. He poured himself a glass of cold water from the dispenser in the fridge and took two deep breaths to reset himself and put some distance between his life at home and work. And when he finally felt the threads tethering him to the office unhooking from his brain, he was ready to go to the bedroom, where you were currently sound asleep.

As soon as he entered the room still dimly lit by a fire from a fireplace, your sight took his breath away. He leaned on the doorframe and just stood there for a moment with his arms crossed on his chest, basking in your glory. You were laying on your stomach, with your left leg hooked up and resting on one of the soft pillows, around which you also had your arms wrapped. You were still wearing his headphones and your lovely figure was hidden by his own shirt, which almost made him purr, the possessiveness in him completely satisfied with you covered from head to toe in his things. Only after a moment, he noticed the smooth silicone toy peeking from between your folds, and his eyes immediately shot to your nightstand, where he noticed a small porcelain figurine, which made him smile.

He rolled up his sleeves and lazily strolled to the bed. You didn't react in any way when the mattress dipped under his weight when he started crawling in between your legs. Not even when he gently traced his fingers up your thigh until they reached the smooth silicon toy still buried deep in you, with the other end digging into the inside of your thigh, the angle being the sole thing holding it in its place.

When he turned on the vibrations on the lowest setting, you stirred in your sleep and pushed your hips higher up, as if you wanted to give him even more access. He very slowly moved the toy out and back inside you, which made you part your lips in your sleep. With his every move, your breathing became louder, and eventually, there was a soft whine that escaped from your mouth. He could already feel your slick on his fingers, but he didn't stop using the toy just yet; he wanted to make sure that you were as relaxed and ready as possible. He was satisfied only when you subconsciously started humping the toy to meet his movements, so he turned the vibrator off and slowly took it out of you while you tried to follow it.

He didn't even bother undressing completely, only undoing the buttons and zipper of his pants, and freeing his already hard cock from behind two layers of material. Slowly and careful not to wake you up, he ran his whole length in between your folds, lubricating it with your juices. And then he carefully guided his tip inside you, stretching you even more than the toy did just a few moments ago.

The softness of your warm, welcoming walls clenching around him made him moan, but even if you weren't asleep, you wouldn't be able to hear that because of the headphones. He stayed like that for a short while, soaking in the tenderness and intimacy of this moment... The amount of trust you were putting in him always got to him in those types of situations, and he would be a fool if he ever abused it. So instead, he leaned down, still holding his weight on his strong arms, careful not to put any on you, and placed a soft, gentle kiss on the back of your neck. Your face relaxed more if that was even possible, and he just rested his forehead on the place where his lips were just a second ago. He knew you would eventually wake up, but he wanted to challenge himself a little to see how close he could get you to an orgasm before you did, so his moves were slow and gentle... Almost sloppy... But then came a moment when your walls clenched harder around him and his hips snapped in involuntary response, slapping hard against your ass, and that finally made you regain consciousness. Although for a moment you weren't exactly sure what was happening, you knew you were safe.

It would be so easy to go back to sleep, but as soon as you realized what Toto was doing, you turned your head back and caught his lips in a deep kiss, in the middle of which he gently removed the headphones from your head.

- You're so good for me, Princess... So perfect... - he whispered, resting his forehead against yours.

- Just for you... Only for you... - you whispered trying to touch, to feel him more, but the angle made it impossible, so you move your knee even closer to your chest and did a complete 180 turn under him, somehow managing to keep him inside you. Your hands instantly shot down to unbutton his shirt and slide under the soft material and around his body, pulling him closer, as he finally got lower, now resting on his elbows instead of his hands.

He buried his face in the nook of your neck and deeply inhaled your scent, while you hooked your legs behind his ass and pulled him even deeper inside you.

- I missed you so much today... - his voice was almost desperate while he started moving slowly again, but with every snap of his hips, he was gaining speed. - Missed your scent, your touch, your perfect skin, your lips... - if his voice wasn't desperate, his kiss definitely was. It was all-consuming, devouring, and full of longing as if he was trying to make up for lost hours and already preparing and compensating for the next day without you. - Let me hear you, Princess... - he growled when you tried to choke the moan before it reached the surface after a particularly rough move. And after he realized that you were trying to contain yourself again, he did everything in his power to draw louder and more frantic sounds out of you, and he knew exactly how to play your body. He knew all the right places, all the right angles, and he used that knowledge to his advantage mercilessly until you were a moaning, sobbing, and shivering mess.

- Please... - you whimpered, hiding your face in his chest, because you were so desperate for release that you could taste its sweetness in the air.

- Please what...? - you couldn't see it, but you were sure that there was a cocky smile on his face.

- Please Daddy, can I cum on your cock...? - you didn't move your face, so the words came out muffled by Toto's skin. He chuckled and placed a soft kiss on the top of your head.

- Of course, Princess... You can always cum on Daddy's cock... - he placed another soft kiss, this time on your temple. There was an unbelievable contrast between what the lower parts of your bodies were doing, and what the top parts did. His hips were moving at the speed of light, and with every push and pull he was dragging his tip against your G-spot. The loud sounds of skin rhythmically slapping against skin every time he bottomed out when your hips moved up to meet his. Your ankles now were on his lower back, pulling him harder and deeper inside you. All that while he was whispering sweet praises directly into your ear when you were hiding your face out of embarrassment from your own reactions; your fingers were leaving light pink scratches on his back, while your lips closed around a soft patch of the skin under his shoulder, because you were far past moaning, and you needed to occupy your mouth in some other way.

Just before the wave of intense pleasure pulled you into its embrace, you could feel your walls clenching down so hard, it left you with a pleasurable burn that finally pushed you over the edge and your whole body reacted accordingly. Your arms and legs pulled him deeper and closer, and you basically wrapped yourself around him so tightly that you definitely left some marks, yet somehow, he still managed to thrust a few more times before he froze and spilled deep inside you, exactly where he belonged. He pressed his forehead against the top of your head for a long moment, trying to calm himself enough not to collapse as soon as he moved.

- So good... You were so good for me, Princess... - he whispered into your hair, and you almost started purring at his praise. Even though you were slowly regaining control over your own thoughts and body, you didn't let go of Toto, clinging to him for dear life.

- I missed you... - you finally whispered. He moved his arms under you, and he flipped both of you around, so you were now laying on top of him, while he gently stroked your hair and back.

- I know, Schatzi, and I'm sorry... I will make it up to you. - you rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes, soaking in his presence with your whole body.

- I'm not saying that because I want anything in return or to make you feel guilty... I just... I don't like when you're not nearby. I know it's clingy and desperate, but I just... - you huffed instead of actually finishing the sentence.

- I personally think it's adorable... - you could hear a smile in his voice, and you looked up to see it on his face. - And I'm not going anywhere, Princess, I'm all yours... And I can remain yours under the shower. - you chuckled, but he was right... You were both sticky from sweat, and your mixed release was all over your thighs.

- Bath...? - you quietly requested, rubbing your cheek against his skin.

- Yes, we can take a bath instead... - he stood up with you still holding onto him like a very clingy koala bear, and he supported your weight from below, so you wouldn't land on the floor.

Without letting you go, he run a hot bath, undressed and when it was time - he also took off the shirt you were wearing. He got into the giant bathtub first and then held out his hand to assist you.

- Tell me about your day, please... - you requested when you were comfortable sitting in between his legs, with your back against his torso and your eyes closed. He chuckled quietly, but you didn't have to wait long to hear all about the tunnel day. The vibrations of his low, deep voice traveled through your whole body, relaxing you even more than the dangerously hot water, and you had to be careful not to fall asleep in the bath, but even if you did, you knew Toto would take good care of you. 

A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :) Love, G.

[lincsann]

➫ MALLSOFT

take a step back. indulge in nostalgia.

[mangoposts]

i have this feeling likeee that if while u are fucking with Matt u start saying “too much”, “you are so big or something with at least a subtle hint that you are uncomfortable, then he will stop immediately and start asking if u are okay and will continue only if he is 💯 sure that everything is fine w u. And with Chris it’s like a completely different situation and you have some kind of safe word, so he will fuck you roughly despite all sorts of “too much Chris too much” until you say your safe word🫣🥸

-📞

This is soooooo true, Matt would definitely be so concerned if you told him to stop during sex and he’d go into soft mode, asking if you’re okay and if you want to keep going while Chris would ignore your begging for him to stop 😭 Because he knows if you really wanted him to stop you’d use your safe word with him

Poor Matt though awe i could really imagine him being scared he hurt you and he would treat you like glass afterward

[illbeyourkeeper]

I have been suffering Charlastor brainrot for the past month, please send help. It's gotten worse after I found out that my irl best friend watches the show and loves Alastor. I have a huge crush on him and I think I may be projecting ourselves onto Charlie and Alastor. There's an insane amount of canon evidence to back up Charlastor. Him constantly calling her "dear," calling her a "charming demon belle" in the pilot, dancing with her, touching her 24/7 even though he hates being touched, lying in her bed, all of the official merchandise with just the two of them on it...there was even a joke in the show about Charlie and Alastor potentially being an item, when Rosie assumed that Charlie was Alastor's girlfriend

"it goes against their canon sexualities" Vivziepop said that she doesn't care what people ship even if it goes against their canon sexualities. Besides, people shipping Charlastor in their fanworks doesn't erase the fact that Charlie is dating Vaggie and Alastor is ace in canon.

"Vivziepop hates Charlastor" she doesn't. She only said that she muted Charlastor that one time because of the shippers begging her to make it canon. Don't do that shit, y'all.

"Alastor sees Charlie as a daughter" He doesn't, he only said that to make Lucifer mad

I personally don't care if Charlastor is canon or not, I just want more cute moments from them, and in the meantime, I'll be looking at all the fanart.

[permertesacker]

[ciccerone]

[recka24]

[imagingchamber]

i want to see her maintenance shafts

[applesontheground]

thanks a lot, partner! 📞

i teased this awhile back, and as a resident mickey altieri enjoyer i once again come to you guys with an idea about him.

i feel a bit cheated his ghostface partner wasn’t a peer; it was mrs. loomis with her own separate agenda. not a bad plot point at all, just not my favorite per se.

so, i wanted to give him a real partner, and then make them get nasty. hope you guys like it. all i can say is that he’s my pick of the ghostface litter through and through, and i also want to practice writing more fleshed out smut...pun vaguely intended. let me know how i did. 🤗

NSFW | Word Count: 3,522 | Mickey Altieri x GN Ghostface!Reader (no gendered pronouns used)

contains canon typical/mentions of murder & gore, injury/mentioned eye trauma, reader’s roommate is gn too, masochism, fluff, teasing, dirty talk, oral (m recieving), manhandling

🎼: x, x

There was no way this wasn’t going to get worse come the morning.

You had caught a glimpse of yourself unmasked in the window, left unlocked long before you had gone out that evening – and what you had just barreled through while the police hadn’t even gotten to the street where your latest party crashing had just come to a perfectly timed wrap.

Everything from the second you left to the second you returned to the dingy house that you were renting with two other students had been on the dot – but one thing that hadn’t been anticipated was the victim, well, fighting back. It had been caught in the reflection of the window at first, but now you were leaning into the dollar store mirror that had been lovingly stuck on the fridge. Sure enough, the beginnings of a red spot were forming under and around your eye socket, hot blood rushing to the surface from a decently timed elbow and turning a more stark shade of purple with every passing hour.

“Fuckin-!” You swatted the closest thing to you sitting on the counter, stress from the visible mark making panic set in along with the quiet throb that had drummed up along your cheekbone. The plastic spray bottle clattered across an otherwise bare surface, toppling over the haunting mask sitting on its edge, paling in comparison to the tiled countertop.

Your ear was pointed towards the door, anticipating that your roommate was still out for the night. When word of what you had done got out – what Ghostface had done – [he’d/she’d/they’d] be home in a heartbeat, confiding all that worry about a possible murder to you. You couldn’t blame [him/her/them], feeling like you’re standing idly by, practically waiting to be picked off, is terrifying. Isn’t it?

You turned away from the window, backside pressed into the edge of the counter as you took both the physical and the mental load off your mind for a second. It was as short as the deep breath passing through, staring at the ceiling through the good eye. A harsh scratch of one of the trees against the side of the house made you freeze, then leap to act from pure reflex. You dove for the mask and the cloak it sat with, throwing it under the sink behind the trash bags without a second thought.

For good measure, you even began stuffing more mundane bottles and cans around it in a haphazard fortress. No one cleans this dump unless the landlord shows up, anyways.

“You really gotta be a little sick to do it like that,” He spoke as he stepped through the back door, halfway through the conversation before it had started. Black gloves and the jagged ribs of a hunting knife are still in his hands. The cloak was under an arm, but somehow, he was being careful not to smear any dirt or blood on the terribly plain T-shirt he had worn underneath.

It had started as a study buddy situation, then it got so screwed up as you two started seeing each other outside of school, becoming partners in more ways than just a means to survive classes. From sophomore to senior year, you were ending the collegiate cord with the beginning of a whole new type of work. Carnage, dismemberment, and the drama of being picture perfect copycat killers. It was like touching a stove when you knew very well it would hurt you, and there was something so utterly frayed within both you and your partner that loved to feel it despite this knowledge.

Mickey Altieri looked at you just as eagerly as he had been admiring the path which he came from, but you had turned away before he could catch an eyeful of your face. Gathering the cleaner you had just slapped into oblivion, you spat, “So fucking nuts, I need to take a breather before you congratulate me, Mick-“

“Well, first of all, let’s run back the blueprint. I’m the one that’s primed to fly off the handle in this equation, [Y/N], so why are you going nuts?” He cornered you fast, making your swimming vision slow to a wade, peripherals noting his arms had come out to brace the counter. He had boxed you in, hip to hip with you in a brief shuffle. Nudging you to face him and seeing what had gotten you so worked up, his voice returned to something more casual – maddeningly casual considering the scene before him – and gasped, “Oh my god, look at baby’s shiner.”

“I fucked up, Mickey.” You hissed, hands anxiously gripping and releasing the counter behind you, “He got a fucking whack on me, I didn’t-“

“Excuse me, I thought we were going to take a breath. Can you manage that before anything else?” He pulled his gloves off, tucking them and the knife under his arm along with the cloak. His bare, clammy hands went instinctively for your neck, then smoothed along your collarbone when he saw it had snapped you to reality, settling on your shoulders as he repeated himself, “Relax. He’s already on the fast track to old news, [Y/N]. Who’s gonna know he got a hit in before being fucking slaughtered?”

You closed your eyes – closed one eye to mirror the swelling counterpart. Deep inhale through the nostrils, you whimpered with a pang of uncertainty, “No one.”

“There [he/she is / they are]. Nobody knows but you, and nobody knows but me. Just like the last two we strung out, right?” You looked hard into his eyes again, a realization you were one of the few people that knew precisely what urges and thoughts lay behind them settling in place of the spiraling. Sure, other people could see that Mickey was a bit squirrely underneath the façade he liked to play, a quick moving dude with the camera that was a little too smirky to not tip others off that he was hiding something in his hand.

Although, being the Woodsboro copycat was like an ace up the sleeve, and you? The royal suit that he was keeping in his back pocket. His Stu Macher, but he hated it when you made that comparison.

Mickey then nodded to the floor, eyes cast at your muddy shoes, “Very nice job, by the way. Perfectly severed the lungs from his chest. Didn’t have to do that, but we’ve got a lot of work to outshine. Huh, stud?” You felt a lump in your throat fighting to be swallowed as you merely choked, “Learned from the best.”

The chuckle from him was low and thoroughly pleased at that thought; chin tipped down to give you another good look over now that he had moved past the black eye, gauging what was happening in your head as his eyes trailed back to your face. When he couldn’t quite crack it, though, he caved through the motion of leaning in.

You took the kiss without a second thought all the same, the only sign you were torn being a crumpled brow. He then held your face in his hands, the light scent of hand soap and copper filling your nose as you tried to get some fresh air from the window that was still cracked.

“If it means anything, baby cakes, I still think you’re gorgeous.” He crooned in an almost overtly sweet tone, but you were overwhelmed by the corny nature and responded by blowing a raspberry in his face.

First order of business, prepare the alibi.

Mickey hadn’t been seen at the parties that had been going on tonight (Well, he was seen, but not as Mickey), and neither had you. Maybe that person you had gutted caught a glimpse of a wrist from under the cloak in all the scuffle. Ashes to ashes, severed organs to severed organs. You had put even more cleaning supplies around your stash under the sink for good measure. Your mind was wading the water still, almost falling to something closer to TV static as your roommate spoke on the other end of the phone, ready to hear the hysterics.

“No, no. You’re still out by the campus? What rager’s going on…when it’s…” It was dawning on you as they kept giggling, and the commotion of some party game continued in the background.  Your jaw released, and you began staring at another warped reflection of yourself in the house, this time it had been through a shitty doorknob leading to the garage. All of it seemed to fall to a lull as you realized the news hadn’t even broken out yet, and you had enough wiggle room to keep the mood light.

You looked over at Mickey, who was washing up in the sink, listening along to your phone call. You piped up in reply, “No, it’s quiet out here tonight. Usually, the frat up the street puts on those loud ass parties, but I guess they’re too hungover from the last one.” You laughed, eyeing the chrome flash of the hunting knife coming out of the suds and steam. It was carefully dried with a paper towel and both articles slid into the depths of a pocket kept on the cloak he would wear. Two costumes make two blood trails. Two culprits, and twice the confusion trying to figure out where the masked murderer is. An old trick from the book of Woodsboro, sure – but damn, was it effective.

You took a deep breath and mentioned, “Oh yeah. Mickey’s been with me at the house for the last couple of hours. That’s cool that he’s staying over, right?” Looking at you from over his shoulder now, that fluffed up smile gracing his lips as he mockingly waited for the answer from the other line, you then laughed. “Cool, I assumed it was fine since you weren’t gonna be home until late, so-“

You were cut off, and then you gasped, “Shut up, why the hell do you think he’s here when you aren’t?” He now looked over his shoulder with sharp curiosity, running cold water over the warm pink suds to wash the remnants of what the two of you had done down the drain, out of sight and hard to catch with such a solid head start. You then huffed, “Alright, bye. I’ll remember to wear a condom.”

Hanging up the phone and trailing its cord back to where it sat on a side table in the living room, he quickly turned from the sink to follow close behind. “So, just to be clear, absolutely no truth to that little story?” You rose your eyebrows at the voice coming from over your shoulder, and you answered, “None. Gotta cover our tracks, cut all the ties that might drag us back down the block, but-“

You stopped yourself, feeling his hand start to slide over your hip in a lazy slither, tracing the seam of your jeans. You then ran the lie back in your head, barely able to catch up as he mocked you, “Ooh, why the hell do you think my lovely boyfriend's here when the nosy little roomies aren’t, huh?” Turning to look at him with a raised brow, he then hummed, “You know I’d still screw you with the black eye, right?” You couldn’t help the laugh that took from you despite your attitude growing horns, a hand coming up and clamping around his jaw.

Giving him a playful shake, you hummed, “Glad to hear it, but who says we’re screwing? I didn’t say anything like that on the phone.” He took your hand still around his face, making your grip go soft as he turned into your palm, pressing his lips to the inner pads of your fingers. “Aw, any way I can change your mind?” He asked, “Sure got you under my thumb with the whole…Woodsboro thing. Put me back in the game, coach. Bet I can do it again – better yet, I’ll do you one better.”

Leaning away, you groaned, “Oh, good god. For a killer, you sure like to lay it on thick.” Squinting at him with your good eye, he once again was in sync with your movement, leaning along with you and now peppering the softest but somehow still obnoxious kisses close to the bruise on your face. “Stop squirming already,” He teased, and when you couldn’t lean too much further, he cupped his hand around the back of your neck and went in for a much deeper kiss against your cheek, pulling you back towards him in the process. You naturally found his lips with your own, the dancing around them being too much to act so callous towards.

“Ooh, I bet it hurts.” He mocked you, but your jaw still fell open when he pressed his lips right underneath the bruise again, enjoying the annoyed groan it stirred and knowing it was confused, wanting to be hurt but unable to keep from melting back into a familiar, crawling ecstasy as he started to trail down to your neck, and you started to direct him towards the couch in the living room.

Nearly falling onto the furniture, you turned back towards him with the same blind urgency, hands quivering as they began running over his chest, and the fabric was as soft as it had looked. He gave one final glance towards the door, the heel of his shoe nudging his costume further under the couch, somewhere he would hide it when he stayed over after a rendezvous with your knives. Just like the deeds themselves, it was an intricate and intimate ritual at this point, something you found so much love in despite being so loathsome.

“Whoa, whoa-“ You tried to slow him, but he merely teased you back in a husky puff against your neck, “Whoa, whoa. Please, you’re all over this.” Grinning, you stuck your elbow up and into his chest, making him gasp against your throat but immediately take hold of your wrist. You immediately careened back first into the couch, and shoving the offending hand beside your ear, he shook his head at you, eyes growing cold but on the brink of something rabid. “Fuck, you’re quite the killer yourself tonight. Ghostface, the mood killer.” He gritted, and you only laughed as you finally fell limp under his hold.

Some fires had been stirred up, especially as he now guided your other arm over your head and secured both wrists together. It made it easy for him to free up, holding both in place as his other hand now went down your stomach and slipped under your shirt. It immediately got you groaning a little, his fingertips finding every pressure point and sweet spot and a familiar, worn warmth with his hands still wet from the cleanup job.

Between hand soap and remnants of the dirt – better yet, the blood – was making you press your hips against his, lining up while both of you still had clothes on. It did him in, and he had to let your hands go in certainty they’d fly to the hem of your shirt. He trusted you enough to manage that.

As you rolled the fabric over your head, throwing it behind you to drape over the phone you had just gotten off of, he was feeling all over your torso and chest like he hadn’t seen it before. Like it had been something he was holding out for after such a gruesome night. You whimpered into his ear, knowing the pathetic noises of someone just as capable as he was made him rabid. Sure enough, his movements suddenly grew rougher, nails being involved in his fondling.

“Calm down,” You demanded with a lack of backbone in your words, and he only responded by planting his mouth on your neck, nipping a few times before starting to add another mark to your itinerary. It shut you up; replacing your demands with shivering along your shoulders and breathy whines. He was giving it back, and when you couldn’t take it anymore as he released your neck, the splotch left on your skin glistening with saliva and as ribbed as the knife from teeth marks, you pushed him back and started pulling at his shirt, pushing it up.

“You gotta be a little sick to do it like this,” You murmured, both of you upright on the couch. You wasted no time slipping down his body, being sure to start pressing your own kisses against his skin as you got to his hips. He groaned, half because of the feelings that were spilling like the precum was starting to soak into the fabric of your shirt and half from hearing his own goddamn words slapping him in the face. You weren’t one to waste time unlike him, not necessarily here to ravish and enjoy the leadup to it – a murder, an orgasm, whatever it was – but rather get to what needed to happen, to live in the main event.

It was something you approached with nothing but anticipating confidence, starting from the shaft and licking up along the bottom of his cock. He almost whimpered, for once his hands not wandering too far from where they were settled with one on the back of the couch to keep upright and one on the back of your head. He wasn’t even guiding, rather serving as a marker to keep your mouth where he wanted it.

Mickey let you do the work, hands pressed into his thighs as you focused on doing it well. If it got messy, you’d deal with it afterwards. Spit was running down your jaw, and trickled down your neck as you only focused on the heat against your tongue, the prodding of your throat that was making him need to hold the back of the couch to stay steady.

“[Y/N], you keep it up and I’m gonna be done before we've even started.” He warned, half serious and half holding out to see how you’d respond. You merely groaned against him, a nonchalant sound as you kept going, tilting your head so he could see what you were doing a little better. It was already making you unbelievably hot underneath your clothes, and you were already so deep in the act.

You had to finish it, then figure out where to go after the fact. Just like you had with the guy who punched you while you tore him apart.

The fire suddenly roared alive and broke apart, spreading in all directions as soon as it had sparked. Once again, his hands became rigid as he stopped moving everywhere except in how he snapped his hips against your mouth, fluid in the motion. He almost wondered if he had even cum, because you were already taking care of it. Just like the shiner, you were handling things as they practically hit you in the face. In this case, the back of your twitching throat.

You pulled off of him, the last of it hitting you along the tip of your nose and bottom lip. You rolled your head up, and he chuckled at the sight. “Oh my god, can you knock it off?” He asked, catching his breath as you asked, “What do you mean?”

“Being a stand-up partner, you know what I mean. It’s like you fell from the sky just for me to deal with,” He lamented, but he was still grinning at you. Straightening your back, you glanced at the clock. Figuring you still had time, you didn’t rush to find your shirt quite yet, shifting a little closer to him so you could see the beginnings of him starting to sweat from the exertion. Even his hair was starting to look even more wild, but he cut your train of thought with finding his own shirt.

“How’s this for an alibi-” He hummed, using it to wipe the remnants of spit from your mouth, “I elbowed you in the face because your mouth was go god damn good, you’re so accident prone already.” He bared his teeth in an amused smile as you gasped, a silent motion as you then used your hand to help in cleaning yourself up. He then took your chin between two fingers, wagging your head and making your unfocused stare come back to Earth as he added, “Let’s even play it up, act all embarrassed about it. They’ll eat it up.”

“…For the partner who flies off the handle, you’re still good at thinking fast.” You croaked, both of you smiling at each other. He threw the shirt over the cloak peeking from underneath the couch. “Gotta be when you’re living up to some pretty sick shit.” He murmured, and as you pulled yourself to stand with your hands on his thighs, he was sure to take your shirt and hold you in a half crouch to get another kiss.

Sick, sick fuck, you thought as he hummed into your mouth, realizing he was tasting himself along with you. Better yet, he was relishing it.

I’m in love with a sick fuck.

[transredguy]

hhitting him moodboard

[cryptid-aac]

think a lot of ppl have wrong idea of alters and verbality.

M is nonverbal. Cant talk ever at all. Not suddenly verbal just bc Mr. Afton verbal. Not suddenly semiverbal just bc Jeremy (I) semiverbal. Jeremy not suddenly verbal just bc Mr. Afton verbal. Jeremy not suddenly nonverbal bc M nonverbal. Mr. Afton not suddenly nonverbal bc M nonverbal. Mr. Afton not suddenly semiverbal bc Jeremy semiverbal.

For majority of pwOSDDID, there is no "body verbality" bc verbality is symptom, not whole disorder. If it something like apraxia, then yes whole body will have to have it. But whole body not one thing. Body not verbal. Body not hyperverbal. Body not semiverbal. Body not nonverbal. M nonverbal. Jeremy semiverbal. Mr. Afton verbal.

[h-c-u]

Showing the ropes.

Summary: You're away at a conference at a different timezone, and Maverick is a bit tied up at work.

Pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x reader

W/C: 2.2k

Rating: +18, phone sex, bondage, butt plugs, dom/sub, 

TWs: Bodily Fluids

A/N: No plot. Not even if you squint your eyes and turn your head to the left. And yeah, I'm on the sub!Maverick train again xD Also, I'm definitely not admitting to what I was listening to while I was writing it, but let's just say, I discovered a whole new side of Spotify.

Masterlist | List of tags

You couldn't help but smile when you saw a familiar name and a picture showing up on your phone. You were already done with today's courses and planning to take a nice, relaxing bath after being on your feet for almost 10 hours, so you definitely didn't mind talking to your husband for a minute or two. Especially when you realized that he was calling from work because it would have been too early for him to be off duty. And that only meant one thing... 

- Please... - his pleading whisper was the first thing you've heard. 

- No hello, no "how was your day?"...? - you didn't try to hide the disappointment in your voice, and he groaned on the other side of the line. - Such a desperate slut... Putting his own needs above basic social etiquette... - you sighed loudly. 

- I need to take everything off and out... I have to fly with the class... - well, at least he wasn't stupid enough to ask you to cum, because you were very clear about him not being allowed to do that on his own while you were away. And yet he called you... 

- Hmmm... You know that in situations of life and death, you can do what's best, but you called me... I advise you to think about your next words carefully. Does the harness impact your moves in any way, putting you or anyone else in any danger? Be honest, I won't be mad, I just want the truth, because I don't want anything to happen to my sweet boy... - he was silent for almost half a minute. 

- No... - he whispered finally. 

- Does it distract you so much that you wouldn't be able to focus on what you're doing and by so, putting yourself or others in danger? - you continued the interrogation. 

- No, ma'am... - he replied and you could almost taste the shame coming from the other end of the call. 

- How about the plug, does it make it uncomfortable to sit in the jet...? - you suspected that it was it because you instructed him to choose one of the biggest ones you had. 

- No, ma'am... - he repeated, but you still were able to tell that something was off. 

- Does it distract you so much that you're having trouble focusing...? 

- Yes, ma'am... - his voice barely a whisper, yet it rang pleasurably inside your head. 

- Tell me exactly how it distracts you... - oh, it was going to be so much fun... You leaned back in your chair and put your leg on the edge of the desk. 

- It puts constant pressure on my g-spot... And I can't sit or suddenly move without leaking... I had to put on a cage as well, ma'am... - you couldn't help but hum, but you haven't decided yet if it was something you approved of. 

- I didn't tell you to do that. - your tone was as neutral as possible because you were planning to react to his reaction. 

- I'm sorry, ma'am, but I was so hard it was too visible through my pants. And I changed them to darker ones, so the leaking wouldn't be as visible... - even after all those years, he could still surprise you. He was willingly putting himself in more pain, just so he could follow the instructions you left him to the best of his ability. 

- I'll let it slide this time... But let's come back to that plug - where are you? - you asked, and slowly slipped one of your fingers in between your folds, gently teasing your clit in anticipation of the obscene sounds you were about to hear.

- In my office. - he replied even before you finished asking the question. 

- Doors? - after all, he was still a high-ranking member of the military. Who was occasionally your perfect little whore. 

- Closed. - he was indeed prepared. 

- Hmmm... How long do you have? - his response would determine your next course of action. 

- About 15-20 minutes, ma'am. - that last word put a smile on your face. You never liked the word 'mistress', it was too dirty for your liking, but a well-placed ma'am from his mouth... You could get drunk on it. 

- Harness stays, but we're going to do something about that plug, love... So you will still be able to think in the air... How does that sound? 

- Thank you, ma'am. - you could feel the obvious relief in his voice. You knew that he knew that if he truly had to take everything off and out, you wouldn't even mention it.

But he called. 

He wanted you to listen to his whining while he was putting on a show, like a stripper begging for attention...

- Don't take it out entirely just yet... I want you to fuck yourself on it and make all those beautiful little noises so that everyone can hear what a slut you are. And if you help me cum before you'll have to go, I might even let you finish too... - you didn't have to be there to know exactly what his face looked like. - Chop, chop, we don't have all day... - you smiled and patiently waited as he put the phone on his desk. You could hear the zipper of his pants opening and you knew exactly when he took off his underwear because you could hear a light jingle of the small paddle lock that was keeping the chastity cage locked. - Slowly... - you didn't have to say it, because he knew what was expected of him. 

At first, there was a slight groan, that told you he started to pull out the plug and got to the widest part. After all those hours without moving it, you knew that his muscles weren't as stretched as in the morning and that it would be more painful for him. You also knew from the experience, that there was still lube inside him, so as soon as he'd start moving it a bit more, everything will become more pleasurable. 

He moaned loudly and you could just say that the plug went back in and rubbed this sweet bundle of nerves inside him, that made him sing so beautifully. He slowly picked up the pace, and so did you. His moans became more needy and desperate with every second and you just loved to hear them... And the soft cries in between them when he was actively stopping himself from cumming. You could almost see the long line of precum slowly heading towards the carpeted floors from his swollen and locked in a metal cage penis, and if you were there you would have definitely licked it, just to hear him get even more desperate. 

- Faster... - you didn't have to say anything more... You were leaning back in your chair, two fingers inside you, while your thumb intensely massaged your clit. His moans became louder and started fogging up your brain with an obscene image... It wasn't hard to see how plump and red his lips were, because he had a habit of biting them when he was getting close, and he was close for quite some time now if you were to believe his words earlier. Poor thing must have been on edge since he left the house. His cheeks were definitely flushed and red, and his eyes looked as if they were made of glass, because of the tears that appeared in them out of frustration. One of his hands closed tightly around the edge of his desk so hard, that his knuckles would get white, and the other behind him, holding a flared base of a plug he was using to fuck himself... He would definitely be leaning forwards, his caged cock maybe even bumping the desk from time to time, if he bucked his hips too harshly... Or maybe he was even completely bent over the desk, wishing that it was you who was fucking him... Hmmm... That was a nice image... But since you couldn't lay your hands on him now, a harsh, thin jute harness that hugged his upper torso under his shirt had to be enough for him to feel your presence for now. And you could almost see the light red marks it left on his skin, rubbing against it for a whole day... Not tight enough to actually impact his movements, but enough for him to feel you with him through the whole day. 

You could hear his desperate, soft cries and longing moans, mixed with your name and empty promises of what he'd do if you just let him cum, telling you how sensitive he is just for you... He knew exactly what to say, what notes to play to help you get off. After a particularly sharp inhale and a whimper in a much higher tone than usual, you bit your lower lip harshly, because the image of his desperation in your head was enough to push you over the edge. It wasn't the strongest orgasm ever, but it definitely relaxed your muscles. Plus you didn't exactly plan on cumming today... 

You looked at the timer on your call; there was still a couple of minutes left until he'd have to hang up, and since he was such a good boy today...

- Pete... - your tone of voice was surprisingly neutral and devoided of emotions, even though your cheeks were flushed. - Cum for me, honey... Let me hear it... - and he did, almost instantly. Oh, how you wish you were there to see it, to lick his cock over the metal cage and taste him on your tongue. And the sounds he made... Beautiful, delicious, if only you could drink them straight from his lips... After a moment you could hear his breath calming down, and after even a longer moment of silence, you could hear his last loud moan and a quiet thump of something falling to the ground

- Thank you... - he mumbled, still out of breath, and you smiled. 

- You know what to do, I'm waiting... - there was just one more thing and you didn't have to wait long for your phone to vibrate, indicating that you received a new message, which you opened almost immediately. - Good boy... - and you could see exactly how fucked out he looked, and it was beautiful. He was practically laying on his desk, cheeks red, eyes full of tears that were dripping on some papers... he didn't take his shirt off, but it rode up, so you could see just a little bit of a thin brown rope peeking from under it on his back, and when you zoomed in, you could see how the area around it got all red and irritated. And then another picture came, from a different angle... you could see his gaping hole, stretched around nothing, and a thick line of cum dripping on his underwear on the floor, while his dick was straining painfully against steel restraints.

- Just for you, only for you... - he whispered in a breathy, still trying to collect his thoughts. 

- Hmmm... Are you good? - and you didn't mean that in a sexual way. You truly wish you could be there with him, and fortunately, your job didn't require longer trips often. 

- I will be in a minute... - he replied and you could hear a huge smile on his face. 

- Good. You can leave the plug out, but you're not allowed to clean yourself. I want you to remember what a needy whore you are through the whole day, and sit in the mess you've made. - since he had chosen the dark pants today, you knew that it wouldn't be visible, and besides - he was about to be alone in his jet for a few hours, so there was a very low chance of him actually being caught. 

- Yes, ma'am. - he didn't even care, still lost in his relief. 

- You have to get going, baby, they will be waiting for you... - you knew that he knew that, and yet he still allowed himself to enjoy that relaxed state. You also knew that if he needed, he'd come up with a perfect excuse, but you didn't want him to have to do that. 

- I don't want to hang up yet... I want to listen to your voice for a bit longer... - you couldn't help but laugh. 

- Awww... Such a needy baby... - you finally put your phone down after you finished studying every detail of the photos he sent you. - You look so good splayed out on the desk like that, not even caring that someone might knock on your doors any second, or just barge in and see what a slut you are, fucking yourself and cumming on a plug just because your wife told you so... And they wouldn't be able to think about anything else when they see you... Would you be wearing one during class...? Or at the navy balls...? That might actually be an idea. For you to have a nice, pink, vibrating egg inside while you're in this white uniform of yours. And you wouldn't even be able to control it... - he groaned, and you knew what that meant. - Go get ready, honey... And send me some nice pictures after you'll get home... I want to see that harness and the marks it left when I wake up.

- Yes, ma'am. - he replied almost on instinct. You didn't always have this dynamic, but it was something that was extremely easy to slip into, for both of you.

- I love you, Pete... - you said just before you hung up. 

- I love you more... - he replied and the call ended. 

[0the-anomaly-system0]

us when the hosts boyfriends mom guesses our physical disability in seconds after asking about our cane having no prior knowledge of our medical history or anything about our body 😰😰😰😰😰 [she's a massage artist or. whatever those are called the guys who rub back makes feel nice]

[mangoposts]

I don’t really care about people who say that they saw Matt or Chris with some girl and shit, even though its a little weird but like whatever. But Im annoyed by people who start writing definitely fictitious scenarios like ‘I was in the same class with them, matt told me a secret that he flew to Mars and had sex with nicole there, and then they broke up because Matt’s cock is too average’ like wtf

-📞

No Fr like why lie 😭😭 It’s kinda funny but like be Fr