#and he was like ‘i bet mine is right though’ with this smug little look like okay middle aged white man! give me sass. serve

[peachcitt]

every eye exam ive ever been to has been the most embarrassing moment of my life. i have this thing where i believe everything im doing is wrong the moment i walk in despite going to eye appointments consistently since 8 years old. what do you mean you changed the slide to just one letter whose gargantuan width fills the whole screen after i hesitantly read a single letter from a list of three huge letters on the screen. <- he means i can’t see. (i still couldn’t read the gargantuan letter)

[writer-komaru]

Wild One’s Rodeo 𓃗

Warning✧ [explicit] Grinding, no protection, dubcon.

Characters✧ Boothill

Words✧ 1464

Summary✧ As a waitress for one of the most popular bars in penacony, you’ve met your fair share of strange characters. A smug man adorned in exotic furs who tried making a bet with the bartender, a sparkling knight who gave every lady in the bar a rose without even staying for a drink, even an enigmatic woman carrying a purple katana with eyes like a serpent who sat alone at the end of the bar. But never have you met a man like Boothill. A man of steel and whiskey, tying you in hemp like you’re nothing but a naughty cow he’s gonna tame. Give him a rodeo he won’t forget.

“Sorry for the wait, ma’am. Here’s your sundae,” you place a decked out desert in front of an impatient woman who snarls a crude thanks. You’d like to give her a good smack for making you fetch her four other deserts until she is finally satisfied but you had already been scolded two times already. You couldn’t afford to lose another job. Not in this “thriving” economy that had the lower class slaving away while the rich babbled over dozens of mugs of beer or road cars that sped down the busy streets like a comet streaking through the night sky.

You pushed away the unrealistic thoughts and got back to work. “What would ya like, sir?” “How can I help ya, ma’am?” “Would ya like a refill?” The thoughts buzzed and bounced around in your head like a hive of bees; it was beginning to drive ya mad. That was until they suddenly went dead silent.

You placed another tray of expensive alcohol (stuff you’d never dream of buying) onto the faded wooden counter when the doors of the bar flew open, almost splintering into pieces. A shot blasted out into the sky.

“YEEEEHAWW!! How’s all yall fiendin’ tonight?” He hollered out into the crowded bar catching everyone’s attention, including yours. Even though you’ve never seen this man before in your life, the guests erupted into cheers, some even standing up to greet him or share drinks. At Leary it gave you a few seconds to scope him out. He wore a tight, jet-black leather vest and pants, held up by a brown and heavy gold belt. Yet, that wasn’t the main thing that caught your eye. His vest appeared to be cut right above the nipples. But, strangely enough, he didn’t really have any. Instead, his entire upper body from the neck down to his feet and fingertips was entirely plated with titanium, or some similar shiny metal. Could he be some type of robo cowboy?

“Heyyyy little lady, whatcha doin’ on yer own?~” you gasped as he pushed you up against the counter, humming right against your ear with such a deep country accent you felt your legs tremble. He seemed to notice it too, his smirk stretching into a full on smile. “Oh my sweet darlin’, yer gonna fly away like a mayflower in May if ya keep trembling’ like that. Don’t worry babydoll, I got ya~” he chuckled with that rugged, sultry voice as he playfully stroked your hips, as if he was tinkering with some kind of machine, steadfast on fixing your loose legs. But his tinkering only wet your face ablaze.

Who even WAS this man?! You wanted to push him away and scold him but your hips were pinned so hard to the counter you could feel every inch he had. No, you can’t think such dirty thoughts about a guest, no matter how persuasive they were. And damn, was her persuasive.

“What’s with that look, darlin’? Scared I’ll bite?” Lets out a small laugh, “I might be gentle with it if ya say please, mister…~”

“P-please… mister.” you managed out breathlessly

���Awh, aren’t you a cute little lady~ why not we find out what these metal hands’a mine can do to those barrels yer hauling around, huh doll?~” his hands roamed up your body and gave your breasts a firm squeeze. That little move of his snapped you out of your lustful daze to deliver a fiery slap across his cheek.

He takes it like a champ and lets out a light whistle, “wow baby, you sting like hot iron~”

“Y-you can’t just jump on top of a stranger and have your way…” you cross your arms and turn around, peeking back at him to see his reaction. Any other waitress would have called the Bloodhounds of him. But you weren’t just any woman. You were dying for something actually interesting to your monotonous assembly-line ass job and this cowboy might be your ticket to freedom.

“Awwwhhh come on, doll face~ I ain’t mean no harm. When I saw yer curves dressed in that get up I knew I hadta show ya how to properly ride a bull~” he leans forward, taking your hand in his and kissing it with a flirtatious wink. He begins walking back to the door, your hand still in his, “if ya want some hands on learnin’, follow me, pretty thing.”

You immediately ripped off your stained waitress uniform and ran to his side, “Oh Boothill, I’ve been itching for this~”

“Have ya, now?~” he raised an eyebrow in amusement and pulled you into a nearby alleyway, “Well I know just the way to solve a pesky itch~”

“How will-“ before you could even finish your sentence he lifted both of your legs and swung them over his shoulders, your aching pussy pushed flush against his toned metallic abdomen. The hard surface sent electricity zapping through your wet folds; you were not sure if it was your desire or his robotic body sending out small shocks as if to warn you about the power it can showcase.

“Overwhelmed already?~ never been dicked down by a real man, have ya, darling?” He teases, stoking your flames.

“N-no, I have… m-many times…” you bluffed.

“You sure, babydoll? Cuz this cute little pussy down here’s singin’ a different tune and myyyy is it a sweeten’~” he bites his lip as he rubs his hips side to side, the hard as metal rod in his pants grinding against you so good you felt like cumming already and he wasn’t even inside yet.

“P-please….” You begged between gasps.

“Please what, doll?~” he smirked wickedly.

“P-please… p-ple… pl… ease….” You choked out each word, struggling to put them together.

“Two little words and I’ll stretch ya out so good your kitty’ll meow so loud they’ll call animal control,” he gave your chest another teasing squeeze.

“P-please… boothiiiiiilllll….” You cried out.

“That’s a good girl…~” his eyes narrowed with focus as he pushed aside your drenched panties and stroked your folds up and down.

“So sticky and wet… like a rich lil beehive overflowing with thick honey…” he once again rested his head on your shoulder as he aligned himself to your twitching pussy. Without so much as a warning, he rammed right inside, immediately hitting the deepest reaches of your womb, making you release an embarrassingly loud cry and a hot stream of cum all over his shiny abs. “Wowie…~ someone’s really been dying for a proper fucking, huh?” He gripped your hips tight and grunted as he attempted a deeper thrust, “I’ll milk this pretty hole for all its for.”

“Aaaaggh... nnnagggg… s-stop… n-no deep… we… aaACK!~” you choked out moan after moan, almost like you were a pent up teen again. No matter how much you begged, he only went faster and harder, with enough robotic accuracy and consistency you knew you’d be sore for days. It was like he filled each slap of skin with a silent promise to somehow, some way, get you pregnant.

He let out a particularly loud groan in your ear, “oh baby, if ya squeeze me like that… ohhhh doll…~ I just can’t take much more-a this.~ Ya ready? Ready for a real mess?”

“Y-yeah-ahh! Yeeaaaahhhh-Ahhh!” You cried out.

“Darn baby…. Oh… oh fu- f-fudge…. Hold on baby, I’m almost… oh darling, you’re perfect for me!~” with one last growl you feel a large burst of warm cum burst inside of you, dripping out onto the concrete of the secluded alleyway. But instead of giving himself even a moment’s rest, he bites his lip and shoves himself right back in, humping at you like a dog in heat.

“Shi-sugar baby, I just can’t stop breeding this pretty hole… And these massive tits here don’t make it any easier~” he gropes them a bit more before pinching your nipples with a naughty smile.

“A-aaagh!”

“Ohhh~ did someone like that~” he begins fucking you harder and licks your neck, “I didn’t know I had such a foxy lady under me~”

“P-pleasssseeeee boothill…”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll get ya to that edge again…. And again and again and again, oh, you’ll have so much fun with me,” he laughed before delivering a cheeky bite to your neck. Your moans began to soften as your vision darkened, which he caught onto almost as fast as he’s drilling into you.

“I’ve got ya, doll… just let the darkness settle in.” He whispers with a soothing groan as he litters a series of bites along your neck and shoulder, each one fading your vision faster until it is purely black. When the morning comes, you’ll definitely get an ear full from your boss. That is…. If you choose to awake from this beautifully sexy daydream.

Hellooo everyone, I’m so terribly sorry it’s been so long. My life’s gotten a whole lot busier and I haven’t had any inspiration to write in a very very long time. BUT!! Even though this ain’t much compared to my usual stuff, I hope it’s still enjoyable to you all. I love yall so much, looking back at all the kind comments and likes warms my heart more than anything. See yall soon! (I’d be down for a part two if yall like 👀)

[tommydarlings]

eyes on me | d.r

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

warnings: possessive behaviour

w/c: 0.7k

summary: daniel is a very jealous and possessive boyfriend, and he’s not afraid to show that.

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +65 works) // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

You were so unimaginably close to rolling your eyes as you felt Daniel’s hand squeezing your waist, fingers digging almost uncomfortably into your skin.

Daniel still didn’t removed the smug grin from his face though, there and then even showing his infamous teeth a bit as he looked at Joshua… your friend.

Friend. Nothing more. But Daniel was not even close to being convinced.

You cleared your throat, looking at Joshua with a kind smile as Daniel only pulled your closer to him, eyes not leaving your friends figure,

“And you’ve said that you’re here in Australia now for work?” You asked curiously, forcing a nod out of Joshua,

“Yes, I had an important meeting yesterday and now I’m just enjoying my last day here, you know? How you’re doing here in Australia since you moved here, already met some scary, humongous spiders?“ he giggled teasingly, remembering how much you hated those disgusting animals.

You sighed with a small grin, “oh please stop,” shaking your head as you softly placed your hand on top of Daniel’s, trying to loosen his immensely tight grip on your dress a bit,

“I’ve already seen enough of those, and I bet that the one I saw last night won’t be the last one I will encounter,” you giggled, almost hissing as your boyfriends fingers buried themselves slightly painfully into your flesh.

Daniel slowly turned his head, giving the side of your head a quick peck before he whispered into your ear, “If we don’t leave right now, I will dig my fingers so far in that soft skin of yours until I’m drawing just the slightest bit of blood, sweetheart,” he kissed your temple, not even bothering looking at you now, “I would never genuinely hurt you and you know that, right?”

You gulped and quickly nodded.

“Good,” he whispered in a deep tone, “but if pain is the only way to make you understand that you’re only mine and nobody else’s, then I’m not afraid to cross some boundaries here, you understand me?”

Joshua was by now — very much to your luck — looking to be busy with his phone, barely minding the two of you. You swallowed down a high-pitched gasp before you looked up at the Australien driver,

“You wouldn’t do that,” you shook your head, making Daniel’s smirk widen, “You wouldn’t do it, she says,” he mocked you with a laugh, looking wholeheartedly from the outside, but being nothing else than cruel from the inside.

You bit your inner cheek and licked your lips, eyes wandering around the room,

“Eyes on me, don’t look at the man over there or the young gentleman to the left of us,” Daniel shook his head at you, quickly grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him.

You really didn’t wanted to, but you obeyed and looked up at him, “perfect, just like that, baby,” he slowly nodded, “keep your eyes on me, not on any other man in this goddamn building,” Daniel gulped,

“Hell, not on any other man on this goddamn planet,” he smiled wickedly again, thumb caressing your chin in a soft manner, suprising you, “eyes. on. me.”

With slightly teary eyes you look up at Daniel, nervously biting your bottom lip before he speaks up again, “What are we gonna do now, hmm?” He asked with an evil grin.

You gulped, “W-We're going home, d-daniel.”

He slowly nodded, thumb still caressing your skin before he leaned forward and kissed your forehead, then your cheek and then your soft lips.

“That’s my good girl, now c‘mon,” he took you by the hand and walked with you towards his car.

With your high heels it was quite hard to keep up with his pace but you tried your best as you followed him like a little puppy.

You jumped a bit as he suddenly put his palm onto your lower back, pushing your towards him, “You like the attention, don’t you? You like it when you have all different kinds of man staring at you like that, huh?” He whispered behind you before he kissed the back of your head.

You smirked and bit your lip, “what? Nooo, daniel… I definitely do not like the attention,” you rolled your eyes in a mocking manner,

“Why do you think that?” You turned to him but he swiftly turned your head back around and walked even quicker to his car.

But the second you heard Daniel’s familiar chuckle behind your rushing figure, your smile fell.

[blasphemecel]

Michael Kaiser, Alexis Ness — Dick Measuring

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader/Alexis Ness WORD COUNT: 0.8k TYPE: Humor, Drabble WARNING(S): This is literall y just one giant dick joke help NOTE: If you wanna see the rest of the horrible not-polycule series it's at the bottom of the masterlist

While scrolling through your phone at a ferocious speed with a manic grin, you turn to Ness and announce, “Look, over 500 thousand tweets mentioning my name. The viewers are all up on my cock now.”

He glances at you in disdain, which is hard to pull off with his cutesy face. Somehow he manages it though each time you two converse. In a judgemental tone, he asks, “Are you seriously name searching yourself?” Sure, he knows Kaiser does it too, but you’re not Kaiser so that shit doesn’t fly.

“Yeah. Check it out, someone made a compilation of me owning Kaiser. With filters.” You flash the screen at them both to show it off.

Kaiser spares it a dismissive glance, mind lost somewhere else.

“Give me that,” says Ness. Then he grabs the device out of your grasp and squints at the screen, memorizing the username.

“Don’t tell me you’ll mass report their account for that?”

“I won’t,” he lies, smiling at you before giving you back your phone as if he didn’t snatch it away in the first place.

“You’re doing full splits on it. Like, you could be, like, a gymnast.”

“W-Well, so what?! There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“So they’re all up on your cock huh?” Kaiser asks. The smug expression he’s making right now, you get the inkling he’s about to say something terrible. And he delivers as per your expectation: “I bet mine’s bigger.”

You raise a skeptical eyebrow at that, this judgmental expression on your face.

Ness nods, still seeming pleasant. “It probably is.”

“Bragging on another man’s dick size is crazy.”

“It’s not crazy! I’m speaking realistically.”

“Well,” says Kaiser, annoyed at having to wrestle with Ness for your attention all the time when Ness is supposed to be helping him score you, “there’s only one way to find out. We should both get naked and check.”

Your stare switches from unimpressed to blank. Vacant of any signs of life. Even Ness scrunches his eyebrows and appears slightly aghast at the suggestion, which is how you know it’s egregious for sure. Wow, this has to be his most desperate attempt at flirting to date. What’s making it worse is the fact that he’s not even reacting to your collective puzzlement with the whole thing.

Once you regain enough sense to respond, you say, “Thanks, but no thanks. You know I’m not interested in the small things in life, Kaiser.”

This also snaps Ness out of his trance as he is now offended, though he graciously spares you of any further embarrassing commentary, settling for glaring.

“Wanna compare just to make sure?”

Your lips quirk up. “Here’s my list of things I’ll never let near my nether regions: police officers, male photographers, multi level marketers, politicians, Michael Kaiser.”

“Aww, why? You’re no fun,” Kaiser coos at you mockingly.

“I bet you have the funniest penis ever.”

“No, he doesn’t!” Ness interjects while Kaiser merely tilts his head to the side, awaiting elaboration on this statement.

“Like you were probably uncircumcised when you were little and then you grew up and got a circumcision for aesthetic purposes or something else hilarious like that,” you say.

“What?” He crosses his arms and scoffs at the notion. “Ok now I’m convinced you’re just stupid. What a hauntingly dimwitted concept to come up with.” Then he smirks at you again, straightening his back and raising his eyebrows. “But, again, if you wanna make sure that there’s nothing wrong with it, the offer still stands.”

“Listen here. If you say anything along these lines to me ever again, something’s gonna happen.”

“Oh really?” Kaiser gets all up in your face. He remains amused. “And what’s going to happen?”

“I’ll send you to where Shinzo Abe is.”

He blinks at you for a second while Ness is mumbling incomprehensible threats in the background. Then he smiles at you before leaning back to a more socially appropriate distance. “Alright, I admit, I appreciate this one out of all your little retorts.”

“I think you love any words I waste on you. Attention whore. Anyway, I’ll go work out in one of the training rooms with the cameras for fanservice, so I’m leaving.” You pass by Kaiser and stop in front of Ness, puckering your lips in an exaggerated manner, blowing him a kiss. “Bye bye, Ness.”

He blushes and crosses his arms while pouting, pretending he totally didn’t enjoy that as you walk off. Kaiser gives him a scornful look.

Ness remembers the whole conversation which ensued. “I’m sure it’s big and nice,” he reassures rather clinically, the way one would share an interesting fact. It doesn't occur to him what an odd remark he’s making.

“Thanks. You always know the right things to say.” Kaiser pats Ness gently on the head like the dog slash servant he is, perhaps to encourage the behavior through positive reinforcement. He basks in the feeling, warm, and almost forgets about the context of this action. But because Ness can’t have anything good ever, after a while Kaiser adds, “I wish someone I was actually into would talk to me like you do too though.”

___

Yea I haven't slept in 5 days again how can yo utell

[thesassypadawan]

Puck Slut .5 (Hayden x FemReader)

Summary: After meeting at a local sports bar, Hayden and you hit it off over your shared love of hockey. What starts off as an innocent friendship, soon progresses into a few casual dates. Which some, to no surprise, involve watching your teams face off against one another. Tonight’s date is a bit different. Even though your usual bet is in place, loser buys the winner dinner the next time you two go out. There’s a new, more interesting twist this time of… spice it up more. (Hope you lovelies also enjoy Puck Slut 1 and Puck Slut 2)

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut. Hockey, couch sex, taring of one lucky shirt and, as always…Hayden’s big dick.

Notes: An origin story for what will now be known as the Puck Slut series! Yes, I will officially be doing one for every time the Pens and Leafs face off!

Happy Hayden's (And Mine) Birthday Event! In honor of the man, the myth, the legend; I will be posting nothing but Anakin, Vader, and Hay stories all April long!

A little something for @myheartwillgoon2022!  As soon as I read your request, I knew that I had to make it into the Puck Slut Origin story! I really enjoyed writing this, it was truly a pleasure!  Hope you like it! And thank you for inspiring me to turn this into a series! ❤️

*Pregame*

- First of all, no hockey game would be complete without all sort of tasty snacks and a few ice-cold drinks. Especially ones that you may or may not have purposely picked, because they were someone’s faves.

- “Wow, you didn’t have to do all this; thanks.” Hay says so cutely, taking a sip from his bottle.

- You start to reply all sweetly. “Of course, it’s the least I could do; since you were nice enough to have me over.” Then teasingly add. “And you’re going to need some comfort food when the Leafs lose.”

- Gives your hip a playful pinch. “Oh, yeah? We’ll see who’s buying who dinner tomorrow night.”

- Squeaking a bit; you grab your own drink, along with a tasty treat. And plop ‘gracefully’ on the couch, somewhat close to him. “Which reminds me…I’d like to try that new burger joint.”

- You bet Hay’s going to pinch you again for that sassy, little remark. Snatching that goody from your hand, when you squeak and jump. What a butt.

- But he’s all adorable and smooth, wrapping an arm around you…pulling you right up beside him. “So, out of curiosity, would you want to make this game more interesting?”

- Besides getting to go out on another date with your ‘friend’… All right, you’ll take the bait. “Sure. What were you thinking?”

*Game Time*

- Normally you’d really be into the game. Cheering, hollering, cursing, the whole nine yards. But it’s kind of difficult to do so when your team hasn’t made a single goal and…you were sitting there completely, totally flustered.

- It was all because of the rules. Whenever your team scored a goal, you got a kiss from the other. Except…you had to "spice it up more" every time.

- The third period had just started with the Leafs up by three. And not even two minutes in…the siren went off. Seriously.

- A smug look crosses his face, and he looks down at you expectantly. “Well, angel; you know what to do.”

- Not really having any other ideas, you shyly climb into his lap. Resting your hands on his broad shoulders, pressing your lips softly against his. Little tongue slipping into his mouth; playing and wrestling with his. Just getting yourself more and more worked up.

- Before you’re able to crawl back out, Hay winds a strong arm around your waist. Holding you tightly against his chest. “Uh-uh, you’re not going anywhere. Leafs might score again.”

- Proceeds to make small talk about the game and feeding you snacks. Acting like this is the norm; like you’re not blushing mad crazy or wiggling from the growing bump pressing into your backside.

*Postgame*

- At last the final buzzer rang and the game ended, not before your team scored at the very last second.

- By then you’re so hot and bothered, that you’re sitting there impatiently. Hips shifting from side to side, pouting up at him. “Come on, Hay. My boys got one in. I want mine.”

- He flashes you that damn panty dropping smile. Big hands rubbing your arms soothingly, muttering in your ear. “You want a kiss, huh? All right, I’ll be sure to give you a real good one.”

- Lips crash together in a fiery kiss. Hands grabbing anything they could reach. Teeth nipping at one another hungerly. Hips bumping and grinding, passions just overboiling.

- Practically throwing you down onto the couch. He quickly removes his clothes before working on yours. Yanking them leggings and panties clean off, taring…taring your lucky team shirt. “What the-”

- “It’s fine, I’ll buy you a new one.” Tossing it aside like it was nothing, he lines himself up. Rubbing it up and down your wet slit, coating his fat head thoroughly. “Besides, you’d look better in blue and white anyway.”

- Plunging into your needy cunt, you two don’t waste a single minute. Your hips start rocking, his rolling back and forth. Massive cock stretching you; pulling out and thrusting so deep…you can’t help but whine each time he bottoms out.

- Hayden’s thick neck strains deliciously, slamming and hitting that lovely spot of yours repeatedly. Stealing your breath, making your whole body tense up. The dam inside you is about to break from all that pent up energy. “Gonna… Fuck…”

- “Yeah?” He grunts; pounding ruthlessly, tongue running across your collarbone. “Me too.”

- Biting harshly, you’re both sent spiraling. Gummy walls clenching around and clamping down on him. Dick twitching and filling you up with his hot cum. Moaning and groaning together.

- Taking a moment, the two of you try to catch your breath. Panting, grinning at each other like some love drunk fools. “See, told you I’d give you a real good one.”

- You bust out laughing, smacking him softly. “Shut up, Mountie Boy.” Before pulling him in for another ‘spicy’ kiss.

*Post Postgame*

- You don’t know how, but not only are you able to stand…you can also walk the next morning.

- So there you are, hovering over the stove. Busily making your new boyfriend’s 'mutually agreed upon' victory breakfast, wearing his very oversized Leafs shirt.

- Hay comes up behind, sporting only his extremely cheesy Leafs boxers. Pressing against you, one hand rests on your hip and the other snakes under your shirt…giving your breast a good squeeze. “I was right; you do look better in blue and white.”

- Shivering at his touch, a wicked grin spreads across your face. “Mmh, I don’t know…think you’d look better in mine…just saying.”

- You got a hard pinch for that…worth it.

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen

[lokisgoodgirl]

Loki Headcanon Question of the Day for you: what is his #1 go-to, no-denying-it-will-always-make-his-pants-disappear-everytime-it's-brought-up kink? It can be as broad or specific as you'd think, but show your math (aka why?).

Bonus points if you answer for every version of Loki in the MCU.

I mean, I know MY theory...

But I want to hear yours!

Right, friend - bet when you asked this weeks ago you didn't think this would come from it. LCM and I have...I'm not exaggerating been talking about this for like a day and a half. Without further ado - Loki's evolving, revolving door of sexual perversions and kinks throughout the MCU.

Thor 1 – King Kink - by @lokischambermaid

Loki is driven absolutely wild by one kink – when you bow to him and call him “Your Royal Highness” and, specifically… King. You treat him with the respect and reverence of a King while being in complete servitude to him – consensually lowering yourself and elevating him. The types of phrases that drive him absolutely feral with desire: • “Would my King wish for his feet to be cleaned?” • “Is there anything I can do for Your Majesty, undeserving though I am?” • “My King looks especially regal this evening. I am surely unworthy to be in the presence of the Sovereign.” Reasoning: Loki is the second in line to the throne and the thought of holding immense power arouses him like nothing else. Growing up in his brother’s shadow, he wants nothing more than to be admired, desired, revered and feared. (note: This is prior to him discovering his true lineage

Avengers Loki - Symphorophiliais and Piquerism by @lokisgoodgirl

Fresh from the void, Loki is all kinds of fucked-up. His old faithful regal praise kink is diminished, replaced by something far darker. He finds a strength and thrill from creating disasters and the sexual gratification from it; a consequence both of Thanos' influence and his mental state. Beneath the leather and gold, his cock is thick at the smell of destruction and the choking smoke of war that he brings in his wake. There is a concerning emergence of piquerism - penetrating the skin of others with sharp objects in a form of sexually sadistic control. When he turns his followers with the mind stone, it’s all he can do not to push that little bit further. And yes, he’s hard as fuck while he does it. Most likely to say:

“How quaint. Only a thin line of delicate flesh to yield beneath the press of my blade. How far, I wonder, can I bend you...before you break?"

“This I swear; that I will fuck you as the world burns beneath our feet. As the sky cracks open and rains fire and death to your mewling cries. Your world is mine. You are mine. And I will destroy you both.”

Thor The Dark World – Public Humiliation - by @lokischambermaid

Loki has an interesting relationship with his crimes on Midgard – he’s equally smug and ashamed. Smug because he wielded enough power to deeply concern and frighten the entire realm from civilians to governments, causing Midgard to mobilise a unit of six exceptional beings to take him down. And he’s also ashamed on a deep, visceral level for the person he has become and the hatred he feels for himself and his actions, and of course his true lineage. Because of this, Loki gets off on receiving public humiliation for his misdeeds. This kink doesn’t necessary require a partner – but rest assured he was hard beneath his leathers whilst he was cuffed by the wrists, ankles and neck, as ten guards led him into a the Great Hall like an animal. His heart pounded in his chest and he smirked as he was verbally ridiculed for the atrocities. A fantasy scenario he would repeat with partners in the future, once he claimed the throne after faking his death on Svartalfheim.

Ragnarok Loki - Stag & Vixen Kink - by @lokisgoodgirl

By Ragnarok, Loki has integrated his facets of sexuality into one persona. More confident in his ability to straddle both the vulnerable and dominant sides of his personality, he's discovered the thrill of being a ‘Stag’ – (not be confused with a cuckold) and finds sexual gratification in encouraging his female partner to have sex with other men/women. Loki has re-asserted his dominance by Ragnarok, and his confidence in the balance of his personality. He wants to share his partners. He knows they will always return to him, and him alone. Most likely to say:

“I think my vixen is getting a little complacent with her access to this cock of mine. Tonight, let’s get you fucked by a lesser man to the best of his meagre ability, shall we?”

“The only thing better than touching myself, knowing that you are thinking of me while I watch you get pounded by him, darling...is the knowledge that I do it so much better. And the look in your eyes that tells me you know it, too.”

So....what do you think? Agree? Disagree? Further thoughts? 😂 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @gigglingtigger @mochie85 @superficialdomina @simplyholl @alexakeyloveloki @lunarnights95 @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @joyful-enchantress @lovelysizzlingbluebird @muddyorbsblr @holdmytesseract @fictive-sl0th @lunarnights95 @coldnique @kikster606 @michelleleewise @vbecker10 +++ :)

[the-lark-ascending69]

Near-future, black mirror esque AU in which Nancy, stressed college student with loads of childhood trauma, gets recommended by her psychologist to get an emotional support robot. That's what they're called, yes. They're sold to very lonely people to pretty much look after them emotionally. Nancy has always hated the idea, and doesn't really like androids or robots of any kind. Plus, she thinks it's quite sad that she's so lonely she needs an android to keep her company. She also couldn't possibly afford it.

Her friend Steve, though, who hasn't seen her in a year despite living 15 minutes away (she has a tendency to isolate herself and use her studies as an excuse), got her one. It's a second-hand unit, a slightly older model that's seen several repair shops in the past, but it works, and it was half the price of a new one. He shows up to her apartment with the box, looking smug and proud of himself. If anything, Nancy feels insulted.

She doesn't touch the box for a few weeks, and doesn't get rid of it either, because her studies take her so much time, she can't bring herself to keep her apartment clean. When her mother visits and sees the mess she's living in, with a perfectly functional android willing to help her, she finally caves, and as soon as she's alone, she decides to see if this thing can at least help her clean up.

It surprises her that it looks so... human. Its skin is soft and warm, with all the natural imperfections of a human's skin. Same as her hair. She's dressed in old worn-out clothes, and she curls into herself, in fetal position, inside the box. Only the button under her skin on the back of her neck reveals her as an android. Nancy reads the instructions, presses there for 10 seconds, and waits.

Or she planned to wait - eight seconds in with Nancy's fingers pressed on that spot, and the android's eyes flew open. She cried out, screambled out of the box and looked around, breathing heavily and hugging herself. Her eyes fix on Nancy, look her up and down with a frown, and asks:

"Who are you?"

Nancy opens her mouth to reply, then looks down at the instructions, hoping they'd say something about this kind of scenario, and that her new robot didn't go rogue and try to kill her.

"Wait, are those my instructions?" The robot asked. She looked down. "I really don't mean to complain about my living situation going from extremely fucked to simply fucked, but that is not my original box. Mine was smaller, and it had a bunch of little dots on the side. Did they sell me again?"

The instructions said nothing about this possibility, so Nancy decided it was time to improvise.

"I... my friend got you at a garage sale, I think."

"Oh. Well, that is low, even for me," the robot said. She rubbed the back of her neck. "Should my neck hurt this much?"

Nancy blinked.

"Shouldn't you know that?"

"Honestly, I don't even know what levels of pain are normal for me. It always hurts just a little bit somewhere, like, right now, my whole spine really hurts." She laughs. "At least I think it's supposed to feel like pain? I don't think we're wired to feel pain, exactly, I mean, that would be just sadistic. Talk anti-natalism to me. But I swear this spot right here just feels really really bad. Or maybe it's anthropocentric to... perceive it as pain, don't you think? It's very existentialist, actually, the whole... perceiving thing - I bet Berkeley wrote something about it, at some point, but I haven't read him in ages."

"You read books?"

"What? Oh. Oh, uh... I - I think I'm offline? Like, I don't have access to the database, so I kinda have to do it the old-fashioned way if I want to learn somethin," she said. "It's cool, though! I like reading a lot."

"...Okay. So, um... here it says your model is..."

"Robin," the android said. Nancy looked up.

"I'm sorry?"

"That's my name," she said. "I came up with it, I - I thought it sounded nice. Do you like it?"

Nancy stared at this... thing, a million thoughs coursing through her head. The first one was a newfound understanding of her low price.

She made a movement with her head that could be understood as both a shake and a nod at the same time.

"Yeah, yeah, sure" she said, brows knit together. What the hell did Steve get her into? "It's... nice."

"Oh, thank God, because Mom and Dad hated it."

"Mom and...?"

"My first owners - Richard and Melissa, I always called them Mom and Dad. They... they, uh, they hated that, too."

Jesus Christ.

"So... Robin," Nancy said. "I was wondering if you could help me put away some of my things while I study."

"Oh! Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure." She stood there, eyes wandering, around, until they fell on Nancy's bookshelf "Holy shit, you have Dostoyevski! Is it in Russian?"

Nancy blinked, opened her mouth, took a step back and shook her head. Robin was already striding towards her bookself, tracing the spines of books with her fingers.

"Actually, why don't you read after you clean this up?"

Robin turned to see her, eyes wide and a growing smile, like a kid in a candy shop.

"I - I can read all of this?"

Nancy was going to kill Steve.

She shrugged and shook her head.

"Sure," she said. "After you clean this mess."

"Aye aye, cap!" Robin chirped, making a quick salute with her hand and getting to work.

Nancy was, for certain, going to murder Steve for making her responsible for this... thing. There was something wrong in her system, and that was very much obvious. She looked down at the instructions manual - surely there would be a way to turn her off for the night. She wouldn't want Robin to murder her in her sleep, or worse - wake her up at 4 am to talk about books.

Or she could just tell her to shut up. She was a robot, anyway. It's not like she could feel anything.

[blueberrymuffinmassacre]

So The Amazing Digital Circus has latched onto my brain like a particularly stubborn tick so now I gotta share a theory of mine from the Pilot.

Considering it's all, indeed, digital and the mental health of its occupants ties to their stability, I bet their avatars are near direct reflections of themselves and their issues/flaws, albeit with a filter to fit the Fun, Child Friendly Aesthetic of the Circus.

Pomni is a classic rendition of a Jester. A Court Fool. Her eyes are incredibly expressive and even change to scribbles, hollow circles, or pure black depending on her mental state.

She likely views her life as a joke, or views herself as the punchline of a joke. She's a Fool. Whether this is due to perceived incompetence, an inability to "grow up", or simply considers herself to be lesser than her peers.

I do however use the above picture on purpose. She's an absolute nervous wreck 99% of the time, but stops while being chased by a monster and is stunned by her own reflection. That isn't a look of fear or confusion, it's awe. Something about her avatar struck a cord with her and seemed right. I personally subscribe to the theory of her being transgender and experiencing a small bout of gender euphoria amidst the horrors thanks to a post made by one demilypyro.

Jax is a Cartoon Rabbit. Not really terribly much to say about the design itself other than it being very rubber-hose animation in its proportions and the seeming default smug expression.

Jax is an asshole. He plays pranks in bad faith, is incredibly snarky and dry even to someone in distress, and doesn't seem to overly care about the others well being.

"I'm fine with doing whatever, as long as I get to see funny things happen to people." It makes sense his avatar would take a similar look to another wise-cracking cartoon rabbit we all know. He also seems the most content to actually be in the Circus itself. Considering it can let him do all manner of things to others, from the lethal to the physically impossible, he might consider it better than reality.

Ragatha is literally just raggedy ann. A patchwork doll.

She seems to be the most outwardly kind of the individuals in the circus, showing patience and understanding with Pomni even when in distress, though she clearly has a limit to said patience.

I think it's safe to assume Ragatha has been through a lot of shit for her avatar to make her seem patchwork. Which is to say, damaged multiple times and repaired each time, leaving clear marks of the repairs like scars.

Zooble is a mess of individual parts slammed together in an approximation of a humanoid shape. Like someone took dozens of pieces from all sorts of toys and put them together into an amalgam.

Gooseworx has stated they have no idea what they're even suppose to be. This can and likely does include gender, but probably includes their entire identity as a whole. Or rather, their lack of one.

For whatever reason, be it alienation, isolation, or any number of potential causes; Zooble doesn't know who they are or what they want to be. No ambitions, no dreams, no real self identity. This makes their avatar manifest as a mess that also doesn't know what it wants to be, so is a little bit of everything.

Gangle is most insubstantial, their body almost entirely a ribbon. The key part of their avatar is the mask: Comedy and Tragedy. And it seems in the few instances it's not broken, they always try to wear the comedy mask over top the tragedy mask.

Gangle's behavior makes me think she's the youngest of the individuals, at least mentally. As for the masks, something about her circumstances in life made her feel the need to put on a facade of joy. Maybe to live up to expectations, or to hide her true feelings to avoid worrying others. As an avatar, this seems to have become literal: She seems to only be happy with the mask on and discontent at best with it off/broken.

Kinger is a White King Chess Piece.

He's a forgetful paranoiac who, according to the characters, has been present in the Circus for the longest amount of time. He seems to forget where people are and what he's doing quite a bit.

In a moment of lucidity near the end, he goes in depth about how the food they eat is just simulated, and how they provide the sensation of eating despite not being real. It's also worth mentioning the ground floor of the circus is a Chess Board.

I believe Kinger is/was at least partially in charge of creating the Circus. His avatar is a walking symbol of authority, a reflection on his standing within the digital space rather than his current mental state. Perhaps the avatar was more fitting when he first entered the Circus, aware of its intricacies and rules, but has long since forgotten such things.

We don't see Kaufmo while he's uh. Normal. But we do see pictures of what he did look like: A Clown.

From the dialogue of other characters like Ragatha and Gangle, he seemed to actually try and play the role of clown during his time in the Circus, even if he wasn't terribly funny.

Kaufmo likely found himself to be a clown in reality. Maybe he was a clown in the literal sense. Or maybe he just saw himself as a funny, quirky guy to be around even if he was none of those things.

Finally, we have what happens when someone goes completely plum insane.

The Avatars are based on mental scans of the individual made to fit the aesthetic of the circus. an Abstraction is what happens when said software tries to read a mind that has no logic or reasoning left. There's nothing to find, no basis of personality, no base to work with. So in confusion the avatar becomes a glitched mess, trying and failing to find a shape within the madness to settle into.

Kinger seems to be insane, yet they're stable, because there is still an individual underneath the neurosis. There's nothing left of Kaufmo at this point: Just a cyclone of emotions inside a broken human mind.

That's the theory, anyway. It's a fucking pilot I could be entirely wrong.

[bijouxcarys]

Little Wayward Girl **TEASER**

Let me know your initial thoughts! I'm hoping to get this out soon, but thought I'd give you a little taste :)

Ally was having the absolute time of her life backstage; two roadies had already offered her a drink, which she obviously accepted, and she'd already gelled with multiple people.

I, however, felt uneasy about this whole bet.

How desperate to prove my friend wrong was I to insist that Robert fucking Plant would remember a night with a random girl from four whole years ago?! I spent a majority of the first half of the night mentally slapping myself and trying to figure out a way to get myself out of this situation.

But it proved to be too late as those four well-known rockstars entered the room to an abundance of cheers and applause for yet another electrifying performance.

First came Bonzo. I always remembered him as this big teddy bear, and he maintained that disposition. His hand was quickly occupied by a bottle of San Miguel. Some things never change.

Then came Jonesy. He was nothing but gentle from what I remembered of my brief time with the band. If I understood correctly, it seemed that he steered away somewhat from the sordid escapades derived from post-show adrenaline.

Jimmy had grown his hair out a little more, something I immediately noticed throughout the night. His eyes were laser-focused on the two girls waiting by the door for him, one of which were instantly taken under his wing. She was clearly his for the night. Probably the other one, too, now that I think about it...

I swallowed hard and glanced over at Ally, who was both in awe and anticipation. I can imagine she tackled with two mentalities. The first one being that she was seeing her favourite band up close, and the second itching to be right regarding Robert and I.

Larger than life, he strode in last, blouse open, yet tied across the bare expanse of his stomach. The jeans... God, those jeans. From where I had cowered in the corner, I had a prime view of the full picture. The pure perfection of one Robert Plant.

Heart hammering against my chest, I wished for the moment to pass quickly, knowing that come sundown the next day, my dear brother would be in bed with Ally.

I made no attempt to make myself seen. If he saw me, congratulations to him, but I wasn't going to intentionally put myself in the crossfires of embarrassment. Not that easily.

Ally was far too smug beside me, her mouth angled upwards in a smirk. I looked at her and rolled my eyes.

"Shut up," I mumbled, resorting to biting at my nails to relieve the growing anxiety.

"The moment we've been waiting for..." Ally started dramatically through a sigh. "...You shall be proven wrong, and I shall be between the sheets with H--"

I nudged her with some force, cutting off her provocation. She's so right, though...

My breath completely stilled in my throat when the enigmatic God of a vocalist scanned the room casually. And just like that, his eyes met mine.

@firethatgrewsolow @brownskinsugarplum76 @m-faithfull @chromations ummm idk who else to tag. Let me know if you want to be added into my tag list. Perhaps tag someone who might enjoy this? Idk here you go, I’ll shut up now 🥲

[your-divine-ribs]

I’m With the Band Part 4

Words: 1.3k

I’m With the Band Masterlist Main Masterlist

"Bells! I think you've had enough now, don't you?"

Larry's voice is stern and carries across the table, cutting though the monotonous beat of the dance music.

I pause to look at him, shot glass in hand, then raise it up in a gesture like he's just proposed a toast. He narrows his eyes at me. Who would have ever thought that Larry would end up being the sensible one? I tip my head back, downing the contents and grimacing at the taste, and then slam the empty glass down on the table.

"You're on one tonight!" Van chuckles gleefully.

The drunker I get the more touchy-feely I'm becoming and I place my hand on his thigh, earning a smug grin from him.

"Is it your round Van?" I purr, cosying up to him.

"Yeah, yeah sure," he says without hesitation, rising up out of his seat. "Don't have too much fun without me while I'm gone though, eh?"

Larry grudgingly goes with Van to give him a hand so I turn to Johnny who's starting to look a little worse for wear now. He's got a slightly glazed look in his eyes and his hat's perching on his head at a ridiculous angle which makes me giggle. I stretch out a hand and swipe it off his head on impulse, laughing even harder at his shocked expression.

"Hey, give that back!" He yelps, reaching out for it, but I just move my hand farther away, out of his reach so has to lean right over me.

I just shake my head at him with a teasing grin. "Nuh-uh!"

"You'd better give that back right now!" He says in a mock serious voice.

"Or else?" I taunt.

"Or you're going to be in very big trouble young lady!"

"Oh yeah?" I raise an eyebrow, leaning even further back. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

Johnny's enjoying this, his face cracking into a cheeky grin as he leans right over so his body's hovering over mine as I recline on the seat.

"Carry on and you'll find out..."

I push myself even further back and he advances on me until his hand slips off the seat, causing him to suddenly lurch forward, his head ending up slap-bang in the middle of my cleavage.

"Shit! I'm so sorry!" He blurts out, hurriedly scrambling to rise up, looking a little shaken.

"Fuck's sake! What's going on 'ere?" Larry's voice suddenly sounds from behind and it's risen a good few octaves.

Johnny looks awkward as he pushes himself fully up. My god is he actually blushing? It's hard to tell in the dim lighting in this part of the club. I sling his hat back at him and he plops it straight back on his head, looking up a little sheepishly at Larry.

"Nothing!" I say, giving Larry a butter-wouldn't-melt kind of expression.

I turn to Van, surprised to see that he looks disgruntled even though he's trying to hide it. "What's up with you?"

"There's nothing wrong with me!" He grumbles, but when I see him looking between me and Johnny with slightly furrowed brows, it hits me. He's actually jealous! I feel a little triumphant at the realisation. He obviously thought I'd just swoon over him with minimum effort on his part. Oh, this is going to be fun. Maybe I can finally get some revenge on him for all those times in years gone by that he's tormented me.

"You're not jealous are you?" I tease, waiting for a reaction and I certainly get one.

"No way," he shoots back, then I can practically see him puffing his chest out. "If ya must know, I could pull any girl in 'ere!"

I hear Johnny sniggering quietly beside me but Larry's reaction isn't that subtle. "Oh god, here we go again!"

"Shut up Larry, it's true. As soon as the girls know I'm the singer in a band that's it. It works every time!"

Bloody hell, he's so full of himself. I'm certainly not going to make this easy for him. I sit back in the seat, folding my arms across my chest and fix him with a challenging look.

"Oh really? Prove it then! Bet you can't get a girl's number in the next fifteen minutes!"

"I can do it quicker than that darlin', just you wait and see!"

"It'll never happen!" I taunt him.

"Tell ya what. Let's see who can pull first, eh? Me or you. The loser pays for the drinks for the rest of the evening!"

"Game on!" I accept, sitting forward in my seat and ignoring Larry's protestations as he grumbles something about this not being a good idea.

Van's smug grin suggests that he already thinks he has the upper hand and this just makes me even more determined to prove him wrong. I know I can do this. I just need to pick a willing target. One look around this place tells me that there's any number of them, but unfortunately the majority I wouldn't touch with a bargepole. Unless...

Johnny's sitting there grinning at me, he's pretty inebriated but the drunkenness hasn't dulled that little glint in his eye that I've noticed since we first met.

Would this be cheating? Well... Van didn't say anything about not pulling present company, did he?

I glance over at Van who's spotted some potential 'victims' over at the bar area. There's two girls waiting there to be served and I watch as he tries to strike a cool pose, completely misjudging where he's leaning in his drunkenness, staggering to the side as his elbow slips clumsily off the surface of the bar.

The three of us instantly erupt into fits of laughter, watching on as Van tries to compose himself and act suave.

"He's not pulling anyone in that state!" Larry chuckles, joining in with the fun at last.

"Mr Smooth himself!" I giggle. "Don't think I have anything to worry about with this challenge."

"You're probably right," Johnny agrees. "But even so, fifteen minutes isn't long Arabella. You'd better get out there. There's some prime specimens of the male species in here tonight!"

He raises a hand to indicate the heaving dance floor, hordes of sweaty, drunken bodies dancing to some tacky commercial dance track. I wouldn't be seen dead trying to seduce any of that lot. And besides... I don't need to...

"Oh, don't worry about me Johnny, I've already won this bet."

"Eh? How do you work that one out?"

"Because I've already pulled..."

I let my statement reach him, watch his drink-addled brain trying to make sense of it. He doesn't get it yet, but he will...

"Huh? But..."

I don't let him finish. I lean over in one swift motion, grabbing the lapels of his shirt and pulling him roughly forward in his seat. He doesn't resist, but I clock his stunned expression a fraction of a second before I press my lips flush against his, feeling his warm exhale in my open mouth as I begin to kiss him passionately. There's a brief moment of hesitation on Johnny's part but not for long. Then his tongue is fervently entwining with mine as he kisses me with the hunger of a starving man who's just been presented with a three course meal.

"Fucking 'ell Bells!" I hear Larry exclaim and that's my cue.

I pull away, leaving Johnny looking a little shaken with a smear of pink gloss over his smirking lips, then I turn around. Van's looking right at me, mouth agape, speechless for once. Perfect.

"Looks like the drinks are on you again Van!" I call over the music.

Round 1: Arabella 1 - Van 0

[americanwh0resstuff]

- Close enough to kiss -

Word count: 917

Kinda fluffy/angsty?????

Your first meeting with Blaine at the scratching post, how he turns you…

- Close enough to kiss -

When my new coworker, Jessica invited (basically forced me) to go out with her, I wasn't expecting a place like this, tons of pale men eyeing up scantily dresses women, fancy drinks and some odd looking food.

When I first moved here I heard a lot of rumours about zombies roaming the streets of Seattle, I guessed it was them playing a joke on the newbie, scaring me and pranking me as some type of hazing ritual.

But now looking around in this place, this prank seems more elaborate.

I got ready fairly quickly as I was trying to stall as long as possible, but after the constant harassment and peer pressure, I gave in.

And now I'm stood in this half bar half brothel, looking around for my lost colleagues, how fantastic... I would just leave, but I caught a ride with Jess and I was definitely not in a state to drive right now.

So instead I took up residence at the bar, sitting on a slightly sticky leather barstool, I wasn't sure if it was sticky from sweat or from spilled drinks but at this point I didn't care. My eyes wandered behind the bar, checking out the liquor selection, before I could make a decision it seems like it was made for me, as a tall blond haired man passed me a glass of whiskey from across the bar.

"Johnny Walker. You look like you need a good drink." He leaned forward onto his elbows, raising his matching glass at me, I stared for a minute before clinking mine against his.

He shot me a tight smile before sipping his whiskey, watching me as I drank mine. "What?" I asked, instinctively wiping my lip, guessing he was staring at some spilt drink, or a mark on my face.

"Just impressive, a pretty girl like you, drinking that without even making a face..." he was smug, too smug, but I still laughed at his response, smirking slightly as I spun the liquor in my glass, hypnotised by the amber liquid.

"You gonna tell me your name?" He cocked his eyebrow at me, leaning in closer once again, trying to hear me over the loud music now blasting overhead. "Y/n, and you?"

"Blaine, Blaine DeBeers, so what's a girl like you doing in here?" The way he stood back with his sleeves rolled up just past his elbows, the top few buttons undone, the way the dark blue fabric contrasted against his pale skin. He was absolutely entrancing, and I couldn't keep my eyes off of him.

"Work thing, they've abandoned me though." I laughed slightly at my own words, peering over my shoulder at the crowd of people, dancing, drinking and causing a pretty huge scene on the dance floor.

He laughed heartily and looked down at me as he stood up straight.

“Now who could abandon a pretty little thing like you?” Oh he was smug.

I cocked my brow at him, biting back a slight smile.

“You’re a bit of a flirt huh?”

“Only with girls like you.” He winked and took another swig, emptying his glass and slamming it down.

I was half disgusted and half intrigued, I had a bad habit of picking the wrong guys, or breaking the hearts of the good guys, damaged goods they’d always end up calling me. But I guess a little fun in a new town couldn’t hurt…

I took the bait.

“So you work here? I hope you do cuz I bet the boss wouldn’t appreciate you raising his liquor collection.” I laughed slightly as I leaned back in, he was now leaned back down to eye level.

“Good thing I am the boss, and I don’t mind one bit.”

Okay so sexy, flirty and a business man, nice catch…

“It’s not exactly the best place i own, but hey, making money so I won’t complain.” His hand ghosted over mine as he adjusted my empty glass before pouring me another drink.

“Not the best place, so you own other places?” I asked curiously, this guy must be loaded.

“I own a few things, one being a funeral home, ironic isn’t it.” Oh how funny more zombie jokes.

After a little while of talking he moved from his place behind the bar to the stool next to me, bottle of whiskey between us, our legs barely brushing against each-other as we spoke. Light touches on the arms, hands lingering slightly too long, I was enjoying this.

As the night went on we didn’t stop talking, we flowed easily, and honestly I was finally glad I came.

Sadly though, Jess came over at just the wrong time, Blaine’s hand resting on me knee and leaned in so close I swear if I moved my head our lips with meet.

“Y/n it’s late we should go.” I flinched slightly at hearing her voice, too enthralled in Blaine’s words to even notice her standing behind me.

His hand slipped over mine, his nail just nicking the skin, I gasped loudly as I realised he’d cut through the flesh, who’s nails are that sharp? Jess was walking back towards our group by then.

He quickly hid the cut by caressing my cheek and pulling me in for a kiss, after that, well I don’t know.

I woke up on a black leather couch, Blaine’s suit jacket thrown over me to keep me warm, him sitting on his desk in front of me.

Oh shit…

[velvetwyrme]

My god I love the flipping fate like??? Edge was casually like “yeah yeah I- yeah please fight me on this one specific detail about this book, do it, do ittt-“ LIKE? SIR? I love him. WE BONDED, YES FRIENDS FINALLY Mans wanted our number? Aight bet- like sorry everyone else this one specifically is mine<3 sorry Cy, Ik your like super romanticized in our eyes in the fic but edge is right there sorry 😔 AND AND HE TOLD US ABOUT LIKING THE BOOKS!! If I remember correctly he hasn’t told anyone that right? So like, we’re special and he just doesn’t know why and I love it. My ass would be talking to edge not shutting up about the show that was mentioned cause I talk a lot and I could imagine stretch coming in like “wtf didn’t you hate him like a few days ago” man’s would question my mental stability and I love that for me- yeah if you can’t tell I kinda like the fic

Sorry for gushing, just felt like your fic is part of the reason I’m back in the UT fandom lmao, y’all’s writing is absolutely incredible and y’all deserve more recognition cause like? This shits incredible and I wanna just take a large chomp outta your writing. Also let it be known your art would taste like chocolate covered strawberries, also an important tidbit

Hope y’all have an amazing day/night! Sorry for rambling about y’all’s amazing fic<3 im not actually sorry

:D I'm so glad you're enjoying it!!! Please don't apologise for gushing, this is delightful kajkakfjsdk 💛💛✨

I stuck the rest of my reply under a cut because it got a little long :'>

Ok ok ok so, the bit with Edge going "debate me about this thing" is because he's worked out a constructive way to get the reader to talk passionately about things without riling them up >:)!! He liked their spark, but trying to kindle it last time didn't work out so well, so he's shifted tactics! He's got to compete against the others in terms of Pure Friendship Power, so he's laying it on a little thick kshfkfhakfakjsfkjaf,,,

Edge hasn't told anyone (other than the reader) about his taste in literature, but some of the others DEFINITELY know about it. Red knows of course. Rus knows- he even mentions it offhandedly in EOVD ;D! Cy probably also knows since he does upkeep of the rooms, and knows better than to believe what Edge made up. (see image below)

Stretch also teases Edge (affectionately) for his taste in books. Even though... Stretch was the one who wrote most of them :]

SJHFKFJS GOOD ON YOU speedrunning the friendship!! Tbh I reckon Stretch would just be like "oh finally. my plan to get two of my favourite people to not hate each other is working." He didn't even need to do much in the end, so he just gets to sit back and look smug.

We!?!- Our fic is part of the reason you're back in the UT fandom?!?! >:000!!! HECK YEAH HUGE COMPLIMENT!! Welcome back and I hope you continue to enjoy the fandom! Thank you for dropping by with such a lovely message <333!! I hope you have a wonderful [insert time of day] as well :D!

[garoujo]

・✶ ｡ﾟyou’ve waited so long for itto to get out of jail and he’s more than ready to get back into your arms.

warnings : f. reader, breeding, welcome home sex, dumb-pussy drunk itto <3

you’d missed itto while he was gone, locked up—behind bars even though you know he was innocent. just a big, loveable dope and you wish everyone else could see that.

but it’s been so long and you couldn’t help feeling a little needy. your body felt hot where he touched you, his large palms resting on your hips when you’d came to meet him as he was released, his hair messy and his eyes heavy with something a little darker—hungry when he greets you with a messy, sloppy kiss. “missed you so much, babe! bet you were missin’ me too, right?” he huffed, proudly as he puffed out his broad chest.

“ughhhh—damn you totally m-missed me, huh, babe? feel even tighter than before i l-left.” itto grunts, letting his fell back against the pillow as you bounce on his lap—his vermillion eyes heavy and focused on the way your pretty tilts jiggle everytime you sink back down on his heavy cock.

“s-so big, been so long.” you whimper through pouty lips, your mind cloudy with how well he’s fucking you—losing yourself in the feeling of finally having him again. “yeah? gotta stretch you out again, ‘s that it? goddamn—pussy was fuckin’ made for me, been dyin’ to fill you up again.” he growls, pink cheeked and his jaw clenches as the muscles in his well trained body shake slightly beneath you.

his pace is unrelenting, almost animalistic and it’s impressive given the unstable ground below him from where you’re seated on a mat inside the gang hideout—fatigue lacing his muscles from his days behind bars.

“you been thinking about me, baby? couldn’t even cum without you, you know that? wont find anything as good as this pussy, holy shit—gonna fill you up so good, b-been saving it for ya.“ itto groans and your walls reward the thick spread of his cock with another needy twitch.

your pussy squelches, wet and messy as the sounds echo around the thin walls—but he’s past caring if the other gang members hear, always brushing it off with a smug grin. “pfffft—let ‘em hear, you’re all mine anyway, right, babe?” but this time he wants to ruin, it’s been so long—he’s greedy, he knows it but he doesn’t care. he needs every part of you, he’s missed you so much, balls heavy and throbbing from all the cum he’s saved for you, cursing roughly as he fucks into you eagerly—his hands almost curled into fists at your hips. “fuck, y-yes want it.”

“fuck, that’s m-my baby—feels so good, ughhh—“ the white haired oni groans, the vibration of his tone echoing somewhere deep in his chest and you feel your body crumble with each crushing thrust up into you, driven by the strength in his huge body—feeling itto ruthlessly slam his cock into your stretched count as he hugs you closer, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

the blunt head of his heavy cock feels like it’s kissing every part of you, thickening and throbbing with every needy coax of your tight pussy, his pelvis grinding against your puffy, sensitive clit everytime he meets your hips with his own.

his hips buck almost wildly into your needy heat as his grip on your skin turns bruising when your orgasm finally washes over you, pulling a raspy growl from your boyfriend before he slams his lips against your own, his hips stuttering as his cock twitches and he spills inside of you.

he swallows both of your moans, fucking his heavy load up into your puffy count as you quake and twitch above him—a mixture of both of your orgasms dripping from between you to pool onto the futon below you both. itto’s chest heaves as he pulls away, smoothing his palm along the marks on your hips and you shoot him a starry-eyed look that has him pecking your lips again through a hormone-drunk grin.

“pheww, you fucking rock, babe—god, i missed this.” “i can tell you big dummy.” 

© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[t-o-m-hollands]

Summery: You and Tom bet on who will touch the other first after he comes home from filming. Both refusing to give in you resort to some teasing measures to get the other one to break.

Pairing; Tom + female reader.

Themes: Light-hearted, lots of teasing. Established relationship. Fluff. Cocky Tom. Cocky reader too, let’s face it. They are both stubborn idiots. Lots of horniness all around. To be honest, very little plot and mostly smut. Bit of fluff as well though. 

Warnings: Unprotected sex in established relationship. Masturbation. This work is strictly +18.

A/N: Not beta-read, I’m wine drunk and wrote this in like 2,5 hours so it is what it is. 

It was such a stupid fucking bet and he wish he never agreed to it. It is all your fault, he decides, as he watches you bend over into downward dog, your breathing rhythmic and even as you stretch your beautiful body. He tries to look away from your ass, honestly he does, but you’re wearing those light grey yoga pants that practically has him drooling and the fabric is hugging your body so perfectly it would be a crime to look away. 

Plus, he’s pretty sure that’s the whole point of you doing this, practicing yoga in the living room right in front of him as he’s supposed to be working. The whole point is to have him staring, so he doesn’t feel too bad about it. 

It had all started the week before he was set to return from filming. He had teased you (and sure, in retrospect that was a terrible idea and he should have known better) had said that you would jump him the first chance you got, that he probably wouldn’t even get through the door before you had him out of his jeans. You had retaliated with an accusation that he would be the one all over you and obviously he had to deny that.

It had spiraled, neither one of you willing to give in and admit defeat and now here you are; a full day after his return and he hasn’t as much as hugged you. 

Because whoever touches the other first loses the bet. 

And now here you are, in front of him; wearing skin tight yoga pants and bending over. 

A part of him, the midsection of his body to be precise, wants to just give in; to hand you the victory - fuck his pride. But the part of him, the rational part he likes to think, that has him bashing up golf clubs every time his dad beats him in a golf round; refuses to give in.

So what if he hasn’t seen you, hasn’t felt your body in over three months? Or that he now has your magnificent ass right in his face as he’s trying to concentrate on his dull emails. So what? He’s not faced by that, he’s a man of the world after all. 

You lean forwards again until you’re on the ground, turn to your back and start to slowly but steadily push your hips up and down, in what Tom can only assume, is referred to as the ghost fucking position. 

“Aren’t you supposed to answer emails?” You ask and he doesn’t even need to look at your face to know that you have a smug smile on your face.

“I am” he mutters, looking away from your body on the floor and back to his phone screen. 

You laugh, and he pretends not to hear it, while you pretend that the visible hard-on he’s sporting doesn't make you want to climb into his lap and give in to both of your temptations. 

The bet was stupid and totally his idea.

Tom comes out of the shower, drops of water still pouring from his wet hair onto his sculpted chest. The only thing he’s wearing is the white towel wrapped around his waist and the silver Rolex on his wrist. Seeing you standing in the kitchen and slicing tomatoes he sends you his widest smile. 

And you thought you were playing unfair with the yoga. 

He sits down by the bartop, all bare chested and golden. “Anything I can help with?” he asks as you place the tomatoes in the salad bowl. “A change of music perhaps?”

You throw a left over piece of tomato at him and it hits him square in the chest. He just smiles wider, completely unfaced. “Leave my dinner playlist alone, yeah?” You tell him, resisting the urge to give him the finger. 

“So tense” he snickers and leans his head to the side, “I know what could help you relax.”

“Throwing more tomatoes at you? Because we need them in the salad, Thomas.”

He stands up and moves around the kitchen island until he’s behind you, careful as not to touch, framing you against the bench with his strong arms on either side of your body. You can smell him, fresh out of the shower, feel the warm radiate from his body; it is as he’s already holding you. He’s so close, it’s like every cell in your body is reaching out for him. 

And it’s been so long. 

Three months of twisting and turning alone in bed, of only your own hands as company and him on the phone screen as he encourages you; tells you how goddamn gorgeous you look fucking yourself for him. Three months of only seeing him on the phone; not being able to touch him and feel him for yourself, to taste his skin. To just see him spill all over his own hand instead of being there, catching it all with your tongue. 

But it will have to wait a little while longer, because although you might love him, and the way he makes you feel, there’s no way you’re giving in just yet. 

Slowly turning around, carefully as not to touch him, you reach for the bottle. “You can open this, since you wanted to help” you say and hand him the wine, “that would help me relax.”

He smiles, unbothered by his failed attempt at luring you to defeat, and steps back. You stir the pasta sauce, trying not to look at his bare chest as he’s leaning over the kitchen counter, looking for something. Finally he finds the corkscrew and sits back again at the bar table. He gets to work with opening the bottle, his strong veined hand wrapped around the throat of the bottle, as the other inserts the screw. His brow is furrowed in concentration and he’s biting his lip. Around his wrist the Rolex watch reflects in the light. Uncorking the bottle he pours blood red liquid into two wine glasses and hands you one before taking a sip from his own, brown eyes looking at you from over the rim of his glass. 

“Put a fucking shirt on, Thomas” you mutter, going back to chopping vegetables.

The song and dance of torturing each other continues for the following two days. What goes on between you can only be described as a red-hot war. 

“Oh for fuck sake!” Tom’s voice booms over the living room. 

“Too direct?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“No, no not at all” he answers, voice dripping with sarcasm, “no please, keep deep-throating the banana, it’s incredibly subtle.”

Slowly he wakes, blinking into the dark night. The alarm clock on his bedside table tells him that it’s just after 2 am and for a few long seconds he stares at it.

A rustling of sheets beside him in bed and it hits him. He’s home, home in his own bed with you laying next to him, as it should always be. Except that things aren’t the way it should be. 

Because of that stupid goddamn bet. 

The sheets rustle again and he wonders if you are awake as well. But then he hears it; a soft moan. 

Turning over in bed at lighting speed he stares down at you. “Are you fucking touching yourself?” He asks, heatedly. 

Your answer is another soft moan as you look up at him, pupils blown wide and lips parted. Tearing of the duvet he looks down at your naked body, at you hand, covered in slick, moving over your clit.

Fuck. 

He moves over, leans over you; his legs on either side of yours and his arm on each side of your face, carefully making sure that he isn’t touching you. A slight catch of breath is all the sign you give of having been surprised, your hand keeping it’s gentle pace. 

“What are you thinking about?” He asks, voice low in the quiet room. 

“You” is your breathless reply, “you touching me.”

“Think this is how I would touch you?” He asks, snickering. He’s holding his body over you, looking into your lust-filled eyes. “I’d go much slower at first, tease you. Slowly move around your clit until your hips are bucking up and you're begging me for more”.

He moves his head, so that his lips are almost touching yours. Almost. 

“You’re so good at begging after all” he murmurs against your lips, moving his boxer clad hips so that they almost touch you and you groan, your face telling of vexation and volatile bliss. But you do as he says, follow his instruction with the movement of your hand. 

“Good girl” he whispers softly against your lips. 

“Then I’d slide one fingers inside that wet cunt, still slow; still teasing.” 

You whine, but you do as he says. Slowly you move one finger in and out of yourself, as the other hand is still circling your clit. “Need more” you moan but he just smiles.

“Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He teases with a devilish grin, tilting his head to the side, looking down at you with sparkling eyes. “But your hands are smaller than mine, so maybe you should add another finger.” 

You insert your middle finger as well; and moan. “Faster” you beg, but he shakes his head and so a string of curses fall out your mouth and all he can do is smile at it. 

“That filthy fucking mouth of yours” me mutters. 

“Well if you shove your dick into it instead then this stupid fucking bet will be over and we’ll both get off.”

“You know, I’ve really missed your fantastic sense of humor while I’ve been away” he answers dryly, but with a smile. 

“Tom” you whine. “I need more.”

He wants to kiss you so badly, to press his lips against yours and taste you; to remove his boxers and sink into you in one swift movement until your hoarse and wanton whines turn into satisfied moans, soft and sweet like honey. 

“Go on then, darling” he says, voice huskier than usual in the dark night. “Speed up for me.”

You do, your body hungry for satisfaction, hunting your orgasm with determent, sharp movements. 

“Fuck,” he swears, “fuck you’re soaked.” He looks down at your wet slit, your rapidly moving fingers, your hips bucking up to meet your hand. Looking back into your wild eyes he groans, his mouth still dangerously close to yours.

“The whole room smells of you” he moans, and it’s true. The scent of your arousal mixes with the scent of your perfumed skin and this is the closest he’s been so far to falter; to give in to temptation.

Your head is thrown back against the pillows, throat exposed, soft moans escaping freely. He wants to touch you everywhere, feel the softness of your skin with his rough hands, his wet mouth, his teeth. He’s breathing hard and he hasn’t even been touched, but he feels the want of touching you in his bones.

He wants to wrap his lips around your hardened nipples. To suck, bite, lick and kiss them until you fall over the edge. 

“So fucking beautiful” he breathes out. Even if he had wanted to he wouldn't have been able to look away from you. “But it’s my hand your fucking, remember? Think I’d wouldn’t fuck you harder than that?”

And god, he wish it was his hand you were fucking, wish he could feel you come; hot and wet and pulsing around his fingers. Instead he is left to watch. Watch as the movements of your hand speeds up until fucking yourself with a carnal kind of need, until you fall apart at the seams; luscious bliss spreading over your features, and your tense body relaxes until you soften against the mattress;  loose limbed and starry eyed. 

And he is left to take care of the his erection all on his own.

A thin layer of sweat is covering his chest and his muscles are taut as he forces his arms to carry his weight into another push-up. 

“Thirty-six” he groans out, his voice strained and deep from the physical effort, curls of brown hair falling over his face as he lowers himself to the ground again. “Thirty-seven.”

You couldn’t look away even if you tried, your eyes fixed on the muscles of his back, and the way they move as he moves. 

You feel agitated and frantic and in that moment you want nothing more than to lay down beneath him; look up at him as move above you with swift, powerful moments. It’s beyond reason, the carnal tug inside you as you watch him and it is absolutely maddening that he hasn’t given in yet to his desire; because you know he desires you, have seen it in his dark eyes, always following you around the room, over the last few days. 

But you are not going to be the first one to give in. 

“Forty-two” he moans out, and the sound of his heavy breathing and deep groans vibrate somewhere far inside you.

You’re not. 

You just need a change of tactic, that’s all.

The pub is packed tonight, but the more secluded pool area section is scarce of people. Tom sips on his beer, scrolling through instagram; waiting for you, as the speakers blast out ‘Galway Girl’ for what feels like the hundredth time since he came in. He’s been visiting a friend while you’ve been at work, having decided this morning to meet up at the pub after for a meal and a game of pool. 

A text pops up on the screen, beside your picture. It simply says ‘Look up’. 

He does. And fuck. 

Oh, fuck no. 

Oh, for all that is holy, surely you wouldn’t be that cruel to him.

Not the white shorts.

Not the white shorts you had worn last summer, the ones you know very well turns him on like nothing else. The ones you had worn that time when you had driven down to the beach on bonfire night; the time when you pulled him aside from the rest of the company and he had ended up fucking you against the birch wood tree just some meters away from all your friends, your shorts around your ankles and your nails digging into his back as you tried to bite back you moans.

Surely you wouldn’t be this cruel to him, because he’s pretty sure he’s going to die. He hasn’t had sex in over three months and you show up looking like this  and he’s pretty sure he’s going to die. 

He’s just not sure about whether this is going to be heaven

or hell. 

He watches you as you walk through the pub with long confident strides, the goddamn heels you're wearing extending your legs, and the fabric of the white tank top stretching over your chest. Your lips are painted blood red, as if you are ready for battle.

He’s not the only one in the pub staring at you but you keep your eyes fixed on him, burning into his eyes, as you move across the floor. 

“Honey” you greet him. “Got one of those for me as well?” You nod to the beer in his hand, frozen mid movement to his mouth. 

“Why?” He asks, trying to regain the upper hand. “Feeling thirsty?”

You laugh dryly, looking down at his crotch, where he’s painfully aware a bulge is showing. Instead of commenting on it he hands you the other beer bottle he ordered and watches as you wrap your red lips around the opening, swallowing down. He feels warm all over in the stuffy pub and he pulls at the collar of his t-shirt. 

He reaches for the cue sticks and hands you one. “Alright, darling” he sighs, knowing very well what kind of teasing hell you are about to put him through tonight, “let’s play.”

The playlist has gone from Ed Sheeran songs to Mumford & Sons and the pub is still packed with people, though the pool area remains empty apart from you and Tom. It's warm in there and Tom takes big gulps from his third beer of the night. He can feel sweat forming on his back, his brow, his chest. 

You’re not helping the situation. Although he’s pretty certain that helping is opposite of what you’re trying to do. 

“You’re so fucking annoying” he whines, as he watches you hit the white ball perfectly, resulting in two of your striped balls ending up in the pockets. He’s leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and mouth in a thin line.

He fucking hates losing. 

“You know what you should do?” You ask, lining up against the table, arched back as you bend over with your cue stick; giving him a full view of your fucking fantastic thighs, “try to fuck it out of me.” You hit another perfect shot and a third ball goes in. You look over your shoulder at him, still bent over the table, and wink.

Standing up straight you turn to him. Swaying your hips to the music you lift the beer bottle to your red lips and you swallow a mouthful. Placing the bottle next to you on the side of the pool table you walk over to him, standing so close you’re almost touching. 

Almost

In fact, you might as well be, for he can smell your perfume, mixing with the scent of your shampoo. Can feel the heat radiate of your warm body. It’s been so long since he’s held you and his entire body is painfully aware of it. 

With your lips just centimeters from his you whisper; voice husky and low, “I know how bad you want me, honey.” You move your face so that you’re almost kissing the stubble on his cheek, mouth nearly pressed against it. 

“You want my hands” you whisper again, looking up at him, your hand hovering right over his erection, carefully as not to touch it, and he nearly bucks out to meet your hand. He’s glad that the area is more secluded, part of the wall hiding the pair of you from view. It feels like there’s just the two of you in the entire world; might as well be for all he cares right now. A blush colours his cheeks as he stares back at you.

 “You want my mouth” you breathe against him, your lips curled into an evil smile. “You want my tongue” and you lick your lips before biting it, eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“You wish I was on my hands and knees right now, so you could fuck my mouth.” you finish. 

His skin feels tight and overheated, but he keeps his tone casual as he replies, “actually I wish you were bent over the table so spank that arse of yours, but sure, I wouldn’t say no to a blowie.”

“What’s stopping you? You think you can hold on forever? You know I’m not going to give in, Tom. You know me. Can you imagine going to sleep tonight? Untouched? Again?” 

There’s no use he thinks as he plunges in for a kiss, pulling you tight against him; eager to touch as much as you as possible with impatient hands. 

He tried to beat the devil at her own game and he lost.

“Think you lost, honey” you say between kisses as he’s pressing you up against the front door. 

“Don’t give a flying fuck love, just keep touching me and I’ll die a happy man.” His voice is breathless and hoarse and his hands are all over you; as if he can’t get enough. Your hand is in his soft hair, holding on, as the other is cupping the bulge in his trousers, stroking him through the fabric as he whimpers in your ear. 

“We should probably get inside,” you whisper. “Unless you want your neighbors to witness me give you a hand job on the front steps.” 

He groans, but steps away from you. His hair is ruffled and his pupils are blown wide, spit from your previous kissing covering his lower lip. You imagine you look just as disheveled. 

“Think you need to learn a lesson in delayed gratification” you tease, not being able to stop yourself. 

His eyes go even darker and he takes a step forward again, cups your chin and looks you straight in the eye in a way that has bolts of excitement shoot up your spine. “Before the night is over” he says in a slow, gruff voice, “I will teach you all there is to know about delayed gratification.”

He digs in his pockets, pulls out his keys and unlocks the front door, guiding you in with a hand on your lower back. 

He feels as if someone has lit a match under his skin. His whole body is screaming with vehement urgency for yours. His hands can’t get enough of you; his lips never want to leave your soft lips again. Your soft little noises are filling his head and he hardly even registers your hands unzipping his jeans; until you’re pulling them, alongside his boxers, off of him in a sharp tugging notion. 

“Filthy girl, I fucking love you” he moans out between kisses as you wrap your soft hand around his hard cock. 

He pulls at your tank top and for a moment your skin separates entirely from his as you step away, so that he can remove the fabric from you. Yanking at the goddamn jeans shorts he pulls them down around your ankles and you step out of them.  Your underwear soon follows suit along with his t-shirt until you both are free of any inconvenient clothing. 

He needs your warm and soft skin pressed against his, needs your soft little moans in his ear as he fucks into you, needs the taste of your sweet skin on his tongue. 

He lifts you up on the bed and soon follows suit. Reaching down he slips a finger between your legs, feels how wet and warm and slick you are and groans loudly against your shoulder. 

Lining up against you, cock in hand he looks at your lust filled eyes. “Next time I’ll go slow, yeah? I’ll take my time.”

Your answer is your hands on his shoulder, pulling him against you and he slips inside you with an ecstatic moan. You moan as well, wrap your legs around his hips. He starts moving, thrusting in and out of you with greedy dragged out jabs. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room and mixes with your whimpering mewls. 

You are so hot and tight and wet around him and the pleasure is so intense it’s bordering on painful. His face is so close to yours, it is as if you are sharing breaths. 

He wants to punch himself from denying himself this for several days when he already had to go without for months.

“Did you think your hands could stand in for mine while I was away? That it could measure up at all?” He asks you, voice thick with lust. He’s so full of want for you and you’re all soft noise and wandering hands. Your warm breath on his even warmer skin. His lips on your nipples; kissing, sucking, biting. 

You writhe beneath him, unable to lay still as you buck your hips up to meet his; fucking into him. He’s not going to last long but neither is you and holding on is a losing battle. Like he said, next time he will go slower, gentler, softer. Drag it out for an entire night. But you both have too much built up pressure inside you to last now. He feels like a bomb about to go off, sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine, as he fucks into you with even greater force. You’re hot and swollen and hugging onto him so perfectly he feels like he’s going to lose his mind if he doesn’t get to come soon. 

But he knows that you are close. Feels it in your nails, dragging along his back, in the sharp movements of your thrusts, in your laboured breathing against his shoulder. He feels it in the way your cunt squeezes around him.

“I’m coming” you whimper and he wants to cry from the relief as he feels you spasm around him.

“Fuck” you moan out as your breathing calms down, and he’s holding you pressed against his chest. “Haven’t had a decent orgasm in months, I wasn’t prepared for that.”

“You really can’t function without me, can you?” he says with a smug smile and honestly, hadn’t you’ve been so blissed out you probably would have bitten him. 

A/N: I honestly don’t know if any of this made sense. I’m drunk and tired and I’m going to bed. If you read it, please leave your thoughts. 

[jarofstyles]

ex-lover harry kissing y/n in the middle of a uncomfortable conversation. they’re at a friend’s house (kitchen maybe??). “just making sure you’re still mine. you are, aren’t you? i bet you’re so wet for me right now” 🥵🥵🥵

AHHH THE ANGST!

If you like this check out our Patreon!

——-

The air was tense.

Y/N and Harry had broken up a year ago, and the terms…. We’re not great. Harry had been busier at work and he hadn’t made proper time to spend with her. It was his fault, and he knew that. But she also hadn’t told him, she hadn’t communicated she felt neglected and he had assumed she was fine. Starting his own tattoo shop, he had been working later nights and spending time as he figured out how to run a business.

Y/N was so supportive, she loved that he was getting his dream to come true. But… she also was aware there were things he was doing that weren’t necessary. His attitude got bad the more he stressed and it all exploded one night at the shop. Forgetting their dinner reservation, he had been buried in his designs when she stomped in with tears down her cheeks and a gorgeous blue dress hugging her body. Dropping her key to his place, she attempted to break it off there.

It had been a large fight, both had said some things they didn’t really mean but wanted to hurt the other so they could get a taste of the others pain. It ended with a smashed wall from Harry’s fist and Y/N storming out with a broken heart.

The problem was, their friends still ran in the same circle. Everyone had been shocked at their. Breakup because… Harry and Y/N were perfect for each other. They had been perfect together and no one saw it coming. Still, their friends didn’t choose sides though they made sure each knew that.

Theyd managed to avoid each other mostly. All until now. The kitchen at Tyler’s house, a passing comment making both of them bristle and hushed argument commence.

“Would you fucking grow up, Harry?” Y/N hissed. He got under her skin so fucking badly. “Seriously. I don’t understand why you need to make these little quips. Especially about my friend.” She had come with a coworker who was taken shelter outside the kitchen, not wanting to deal with the aftermath of it all.

Harry was jealous.

Still, to this day. He didn’t like the idea of Y/N with anyone else. It burned his blood, knowing someone else could possibly be touching her or thinking they knew her when they didn’t. No know knew his Y/N like he did.

“Why? Why I’m making these little quips?” He laughed humorlessly, stepping closer to her. The jealousy was boiling over, his hand grabbing her chin as he backed her up into the counter. “Y’don’t know? That’s rich. Coming in here… flaunting around a boy toy. Even after seeing me? As if I’m supposed to just… accept that?” He sneered, shaking his head.

“We aren’t together! I’m not flaunting anything. I came with a coworker. Who’s a hell of a lot nicer to me than you are.” She hissed, pushing at his chest but to no avail. Harry wasn’t going to let up, her works making him snarl.

“Oh? He’s nicer, is he?” He rolled his eyes. “He gives you what you want? Everything?” His tone was smug, making her eyes light up in anger. Before she could retort he was continuing. “He gives you the sweet words in your ear, hm? Does he bore you? Because we both know you like the dirty things. You like to be used and fucked like a pretty little slut. And you like big cock. I don’t think his can stretch you quite like mine can.” He was being cocky, arrogant, and god if it didn’t make her cunt weep.

“Shut. Up.” Her hiss was angry, wanting to claw at him but… she couldn’t. Not when he was right.

“No. M’not. Because Ive let this go on too long, and you’ve seemed to forgotten just who you belong to.” His fingers tangled in the hair behind her head and firmly tugged it back for her to look up at him. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine. It doesn’t matter who you’ve talked to. Who you’ve been with. You belong to me, only.” His hoarse voice was only for her to hear.

“I bet if I dipped my fingers into those panties, slid my hand up this slutty whore skirt, I’ll find my pussy dripping through the fabric. Because you like when I handle you this way, and your body hasn’t forgotten who it belongs to.” He kept his eyes on hers, doing exactly as he threatened. Fingers tugging up the skirt without a care of anyone walking on.

As soon as his fingers his the fabric, her eyes clenched shut and an overly smug, cocky look came on his face. “Soaked. Fucking drenched.” He pressed the digits against the girl’s cunt, sighing happily. “Just as i knew it would be. Regardless of who you try and distract yourself with… just know that we both are aware of what a joke it is. You’re mine, and you always will be.”

[moonshineboyz]

Sweet Dare || Eric Sohn

Pairing: sub!Eric x dom!fem reader

Genre: Smut, college house party

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: mention of alcohol, dry hump, slight handjob, tiny bit of choking, unprotected sex

masterlist ♡

“Truth or dare, Y/N/?” Your friend asked holding back a smug smile.

“Dare.” You didn't think much of it, already tired of being in that situation. Moreover, it was just a stupid game, it couldn't be something that bad... right?

“I dare you...” She thought tapping an index finger on her chin, looking around the circle of people sitting on the floor quietly waiting with anxious eyes. “… To sit on Eric’s lap. Like, kinda dry humping, you know?” Your eyes widened at that, a visible teasing smirk on her face now.

“What?” You scoffed. “No way I'm doing this. Not at all.” You shook your head, furrowed brows. There wasn't a minimal possibility in you doing such a thing with your friend.

You looked over at Eric, his eyes just as widened as yours, glued on the bottle in the center. Not that you thought he wasn't good looking or something of the sort, it's just that it felt weird, he was your friend after all and you couldn't think it'd be a good idea. Even though a little spark of curiosity ignited within you, but you decided to ignore.

“You're no fun.” Your friend faked a pout and giggled. “Okay, so... truth: would you sit on Eric's lap and dry hump him?” You just stared at her, not knowing why the hell she insisted in picking Eric out of all the other people in there. There was absolutely nothing between you two other than a friendship, and you were starting to worry that things would get awkward with him.

“Jesus fucking Christ, of course not.” You stated sternly rolling your eyes at the end. “Okay, next.” You quickly stretched out your arm to spin the bottle so the game could continue.

Not even waiting for the bottle to stop spinning, you got up on your feet and excused yourself saying that you needed to use the bathroom. You glared over at Eric and saw the lingering shock mixed with embarrassment in his face. You made eye contact with him for a millisecond and turned to the door, leaving the room that was filled with giggles once more.

As you closed the door behind you, your ears were welcomed again by the loud music coming from downstairs, questioning why you'd agreed on going to a house party. You made your way towards the bathroom down the hall, trying not to bump into some random drunk bodies and couples making out.

A sigh of relief left your lips as soon as you locked the door. Coming near the mirror, you noticed how your eyes were starting to get red due to the tiredness accumulated from the week. You needed to go home in that instant if you wanted to get some sleep and be able to get up early next morning. “Fuck projects on Saturdays.” You thought to yourself.

You turned on the faucet and wet your nape a bit in an attempt to refresh yourself. Looking back in the mirror while fixing some strands of your hair, a thought came back into your mind, what if you had accepted that dare? How would it had felt like? How Eric would feel like against you? You got surprised by your own mind, especially by the last question. You shook your head as if to clear your mind and get these weird thoughts away.

Getting out of the bathroom, you went straight into the kitchen, willing to have one last glass of juice or soda before going home, to which you thanked heavens for being able to find a second option to drink since you weren't having alcohol. You filled yourself a cup of orange juice, happy not to see many people in this part of the house, them being too focused on getting more drinks and some snacks, so you wouldn't have to engage in an unwanted small talk with any of them. As you were looking out the window, lost in your own thoughts about the project you had to do, a familiar voice called you.

“Y/N! Noona, I was looking for you!” You turned to see your pink haired friend coming your way. “I wanted to talk to you.”

You nodded signaling for him to continue. “Yeah? What is it?”

“Hmm, are you, perhaps... by any chance... mad at me?” Eric asked hesitantly, expression on his face telling you he was afraid of your answer.

“What? No! Why would I?” You chuckled lightly.

“Because of... that dare?” He more asked than answered you and you raised your brows. You slightly cursed at this topic being brought up in your mind again.

Waving your hands as in a “no” motion to calm his worries you said: “No, no, it's okay. It's not even you who dared me.” You offered a kind smile. “And you?” Eric tilted his head and looked at you a little puzzled, you chuckled again. “Are you mad at me? I mean, I'm sorry I said that in a rude way, I didn't mean to. It's just that it weirded me out and... you know, we're friends...”

“Yeah, I understand. And I'm not mad at you either.” You nodded at his words and looked out the window once more to avert his gaze, and in that, you missed the way his cheeks got rosy. “So... we're good?”

“Yeah, we're good.” You smiled up at him reassuringly. You finished your juice in one last gulp and placed the glass back on the counter top. “I think that's enough partying for me tonight.”

“You're leaving already?” Even though it was just a tiny bit, it was visible the sadness in his eyes.

“I'm getting sleepy and bored.” You shrugged. “How are you going home?”

“Actually, I was supposed to leave with Sunwoo and sleep at his place because we have training tomorrow. But I bet he's too busy making out with someone right now.” He let out a small airy laugh.

“Well, you can sleep at mine. I think there's still a pair of your clothes from the last sleepover we had.”

Eric looked at you and then at the floor, debating with himself whether or not he should take your offer. “Are you sure? I don't want to bother you I can-”

“It's alright, I also have to go to the campus in the morning so we can go together. Plus, my house is closer to campus than Sunwoo's.” He gave you a wide smile deciding to leave the party with you. “Have you drunk?” You watched as he slowly shook his head mumbling something about just having soda all night. “Good, so you're driving.” You said tossing him your car keys and walking to the front door, ready to leave the house.

“Wait, really?” He took hurried steps to get beside you, eyes ten times bigger as he asked. You giggled at his cuteness, fighting the urge to pinch his cheek.

“Just because I'm tired and you need to practice.”

“Wow, thank you, noona! You're the best!” Eric smiled bigger than ever.

“Yeah, yeah, just don't crash my car and don't try to kill us.” You rolled your eyes jokingly at him strongly nodding all excited. He was like a puppy.

Eric was always like that, following you around, giggly and energetic saying how nice he thought you were and how he liked to spend time with you. Sometimes you found he resembled a little kid, with sparkly eyes and talking in a rushed manner gesturing his hands. And when you laughed at anything he said, he'd open the biggest smile turning his eyes into crescent moons.

You had such a soft spot for him.

It was hard not to, actually. He constantly tried to show how much he cared for you, listening and supporting you when you needed it. Never wanting to bother or disappoint you in any way.

In the calm ride back to your house, you kept giving Eric some directions on where to turn, since he didn't know that neighborhood very well. When you got to a more known route and he didn't need more instructions, your mind began to wander. The thoughts of him being a sweet nice friend now giving space to the ones about how he could be so determined and focused. And damn, you just noticed how hot he looked when focused and serious like that.

You could tell by his stiff body that he was a little bit nervous in driving someone else's car, but you thought it just added to the hotness. His perfect side profile and sharp jaw line, eyebrows slightly furrowed. Your eyes traveled from his soft pinkish lips to his arms and the way they flexed as he grabbed the steering wheel, making you gulp at the sight. You quickly glanced from his chest to his thighs and turned your head to look at the road in front of you, cursing at how you were thinking about your dear friend.

Not much time later you arrived home and Eric parked your car perfectly, turning to you with an expecting expression waiting for some sort of feedback.

“You did great, really. Just need to remember to turn the headlights off.”

“Oh, right! Sorry.” He widened his eyes noticing the light reflecting ahead of the car and you chuckled.

As soon as you both stepped inside, you made your way to your own room, telling Eric he could take a shower first if he wanted and his mentioned pair of clothes was in the spare room. You started moving around grabbing the stuff needed for the project next morning, too distracted that you didn't even notice Eric anxiously standing at your door until he called you.

“Noona, I know you're tired but can we talk? I need to get this off my chest.” Worry and a tint of fear were written all over his face. You hummed and signaled him to take a seat on your bed, following him when he did. The boy closed his eyes taking in a deep breath. “Listen, I'm really sorry. It's just that I don't know what to do, I shouldn't but I can't stop thinking about it and it's driving me crazy-”

“About what exactly, Eric?” You cut him off, feeling anxious at him beating around the bush.

He dropped his head and closed his eyes shut, one hand intertwining fingers with the other, knuckles white from the strength he was applying. “Earlier. The dare. I wished y-... I-I just got curious ab- I'm sorry, please don't be mad at me.” He wanted to curl himself up out of embarrassment, waiting for you scold him.

But instead, your eyes grew bigger and your heart started racing. You had no idea he'd be thinking about this like you were and honestly, you found it interesting. With butterflies in your stomach, you touched his shoulder softly calling out his name saying you weren't mad, which made him look up at you but not raising his head, too afraid you'd get angry. “You want to try it?”

He sat up straight surprised at your question, avoiding your eyes. “N-no, you don't have to, I just needed to-”

“I'm asking if you want to. It's okay.” You gave his knee a gentle squeeze and it was like the air got knocked out of his lungs when he slightly nodded and said “yes” in a small voice. Cheeks immediately getting flushed, you smirked at that.

You pointed your finger, indicating Eric to sit a little further on the bed, leaning his back on the headboard and you wasted no time in straddling him. Your heart was pounding so much as you looked deep into his eyes, sensing the nervousness, so you leaned in closer and whispered in his ear for him to relax. Deciding that you needed to make him relax yourself, you planted a kiss on his jaw to which he inhaled deeply and you could see his skin already getting goosebumps, softening his body.

You ran your fingers through his soft pink locks and tugged lightly at it, to make him give you more access to the skin. Trailing open mouthed kisses down his neck you left a hickey and Eric gasped when he felt your tongue tracing the mark you just made, bucking up his hips. You felt him getting hard and started to move your hips in a circular motion, but in a languid rhythm, making him shudder with the increasing arousal, added to the way he'd been thinking about you all night since that stupid game. And the fact that he had you right there in his lap but still couldn't get satisfied made him groan in frustration, growing needier by the second.

“This needy already, baby?” A hearty chuckle left your lips. “You can touch me.” You whispered noticing how his hands were gripping the bedsheets and Eric immediately grabbed your hips, trying to pull you closer to his crotch.

“Noona~ hmm stop teasing,I-” He got cut off, breath hitching when you repositioned yourself to better align your already throbbing core to his hard cock. Grinding down onto him, Eric sucked his bottom lip between his teeth to hold back a moan, but let out a small whimper.

“Don't hide your moans, baby, I want to hear you.” You lowered your face to suck on the sweet spot of his neck, causing him to moan and grab your hips harder. “That's better.” You smiled leaving wet kisses on his skin and raking his scalp, to which the boy whined. You applied more force to the friction, seeing him writhe underneath you and finding sinfully beautiful the way he furrowed his brows with eyes closed and breathed heavily, groaning in a low tone.

You looked at his lips, slightly swollen by the biting to hold his noises and you felt the urge to taste them. Both your hands went to each side of his jaw holding his face, you leaned in closer and let your lips brush over his, softly at first, finally clashing at them when he didn't pull away. You inhaled in deeply, feeling lightheaded with the new sensation.

Eric's hands timidly caressed your thighs, but grabbed the flesh strongly the moment you licked his bottom lip and caught it between your teeth, gently nibbling at it. Your tongue soon met his and you felt shockwaves run down your spine. The kiss felt like heaven but with a tint of something lustful and vicious, just like a sweet but strong wine. And you were more than willing to get drunk on it.

The make out was messy and sloppy, filled with heavy breaths and small whimpers. You never stopped moving your hips and by the way Eric was starting to shake, digging his nails into your skin, you guessed he was close. You thought of letting him come undone just like that, but decided on something better.

You pulled away, taking in at the blushed cheeks and dazed look on his face up close and hop out of the bed. His confused expression asking why you left him like that, right on the edge of his release.

“What? I'm giving you something better instead of letting you cum in your pants.” You chuckled and he blushed harder. “Now take your clothes off, baby.”

You watched his trembling hands slide his pants off of him together with the underwear and get rid of his shirt. You stared at his beautiful naked body laying there on your bed, patiently waiting for your next move. The tip of his dick was angry red, twitching and dripping precum onto his abdomen as you slowly unbuckled the belt of your high waisted shorts. His eyes were glued on you, hungrily scanning your body and cursing under his breath about how hot you were.

“N-noona, you're so beautiful.” Eric shifted in his place, wanting you to touch him again.

Staying only in your black and red bra, you walked up back to the bed and sat on Eric's thighs, lightly scratching his abs and making him shudder. You wrapped one hand around his cock and smeared the leaking precum with your thumb, gaining a gasp from him. You pumped him slowly but with a tight grip, gyrating your wrist. The other hand sneaked up to his neck, fingers closing around it putting just a small pressure.

“Will you be good to me?” He nodded. “Use your words, honey.” You purred, voice like satin and a faint smirk playing on your lips.

The boy gulped and you felt it against your palm. “I-I'll be good, noona, I promise.”

You smiled mischievously pumping his shaft for a few more seconds before standing on your knees to straddle him in a better position. Your cunt was aching to clench around something, wetter than you've ever been.

With one hand you held on Eric's shoulder and the other guided his cock to your entrance, rubbing the tip on your folds at first and circling your clit, making you both jolt a little due to the sensitivity. You played like that a bit more and sank onto him, feeling him stretching you out and let out a broken moan. “You feel so good, baby.”

You trailed your tongue on the side of his neck, taking in the saltiness of the thin layer of sweat that was starting to form on the skin and rotated your hips teasingly, he was stuffing you so good you rolled your eyes.

His knuckles turned white from the strong hold in your waist as if you were going to disappear. He thrust up, whining as he reached deeper inside you, your pussy so tight around him. Just by the way he started panting looking at you half lidded eyes, you knew he wasn't going to last long, and to be honest neither were you.

“Be good and stay still.” You said with lust dripping from your words like they were pure venom.

You lifted your hips just to sink back down onto Eric, setting a lazy rhythm just to last a little longer and enjoy the feeling of his cock massaging your inner walls.

“C-can I kiss you?” The boy asked in a husky voice, letting out a moan in the end and you couldn't say no. You pulled him closer by the back of his head crashing your lips together and kissing hard. He whimpered into the kiss when your nails raked his nape and you took the opportunity to slide your tongue inside his mouth, swirling it around his till he pulled away heavily breathing. “Please, can I touch you more?”

You smiled to yourself, seeing how eagerly your friend seemed to want you and that made you want to tease him a little more. “What's that? You like fucking your noona, hm?” Your hand caressed his flushed cheek, thumb tracing the outline of his lips. “Tell me, baby, you wanted this so much, didn't you? Have you thought about it?” He squirmed biting his bottom lip and shyly nodded.

“Noona, please, can I touch you?” Eric repeated his question, hands itching to travel up your body to touch your breasts but you shook your head, telling him to just keep his hands on your waist or he wouldn't get nothing at all. But he could kiss it though, to which he quickly started littering kisses all over your collarbones and chest, biting onto the soft skin.

The pace of your hips increased, bouncing on his cock and letting out soft moans and dirty praises. “What a good boy. You're so obedient, baby.” He was indeed being so good to you, but it was so hard to keep his hips in place or not to use his hands to explore your body. Your hand pulled his hair to make him look up, while the other went to wrap around his throat, making his jaw drop, eyes fluttering shut. “Think I should reward you more often. What do you think, would you like that?” You scratched his abdomen again, earning a husky 'please' from him.

You started riding him in a desperate rhythm making him go even deeper, nails digging into his shoulders, his dick hitting the right spot inside you each time your hips met, to which your vision blurred, finding hard to keep your eyes open. A knot was forming at the pit of your stomach and you could already feel your release at your fingertips.

Everything felt just too much for the poor boy, amazingly too much. He was so overwhelmed by the feeling of being swallowed by your warm wet cunt and the way you looked like a goddness while riding him so good, calling him baby was making him almost lose his sanity.

“Y/N ngh- noona... shit-” Eric cried out, your walls contracting so deliciously that he couldn't help but to spill himself to the very last drop inside you, cumming while he repeated your name as if it was the only thing he knew. You drank in the way he threw his head back rolling his eyes.

“Fuck, you look so cute when you cum, baby.” You tried to maintain a steady voice but it came out shaky by how his cock was twitching. Your body began to spasm, never stopping your erratic moves to chase your own climax, with hips stuttering.

All the tension built up in your entire body snapped like electricity spreading under the skin and you bit down onto the crook of Eric’s neck to muffle your moans when you came around him, clenching so much it made him arch his back. Huffing and puffing you sloppily undulated your hips to come down from your high, prolonging the feeling of tremors running through your body.

You collapsed resting your forehead on his shoulder trying to catch your breath and when you did, you slowly slid him out of you making him sigh and started to leave butterfly kisses on the boy’s neck where you had left marks earlier to which he chuckled.

“And you wanted to go home because you were tired.” He said jokingly and you blew air from your nose lifting your head to stare at him.

“And I was! But someone was needy.” You teased back. “Now guess we’re gonna be late in the morning.” Your finger pointed at the clock on the nightstand stating that was already past 1am.

Eric shrugged, looking up at you with lazy hooded eyes, a faint blush on the cheeks complimenting his slightly swollen lips and a little bit of hair sticking to his forehead. His skin was glowing. “I don’t mind, it’s already worth it.” You thought you saw a different spark into his eyes, different from the looks he gave you all night, this was a hungrier one.