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#anyway that’s just some of my brain rot with this man
gailsfrog · 15 hours
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Random puzzevisoion rant on todays episode (idk titles lol)
BRUhhHh todays episode was bonkerss- Right off the back we got mr puzzles beeing all goofy then >:C Mario lol the poor guy just needs a freind- anyway mr puzzles with brain rot- and the kids are just crazy- there possesed acting af-
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ISTG THIS SCENE MADE NE DIEE HAHAAHA- New smg4 thing. all of the best villans ride goofy ahh cars HAHA-
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Bruh Puzzles is real for that tho- just at the thought of the brainrot crap and ppl saying all that STUFF in school my brain cells man- id be mad too puzzles-
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MR PUZZLES LOOSING IT- and calling a kid a fat F@#k also mr puzzles new face is giveing me Smiler vibes-
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LIKE BRUh- same smile- and creepyness- i was fr so suprised to see that puzzles got a new >:C face.
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Then Mr. Puzzles crying/manicaly crazy laugh cry (?) at the end just was so sad- as a big fan of this dam TV its sad to see him like this :/ BUT THE SONG IN THE BACKGROUND IS SOO GOOD- im a huge fan of the oldschool songs or just ones with creepy vibes lol (usualy putting the dimond city radio on from fallout 4 on for older music lol) i typed the lyrics to it in youtube a few times alot of them were weird modern ones :/ but this is the closest one i found lol https://youtu.be/BXR1tZhEcHE :0 idk if it will work for yall if not the video is called Chick Bullock - Hummin' To Myself and it now lives rent free in my music playlist :0
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Also MICKY MOUSE!?!?!!??! ither yalls jellous of puzzles fans, hes gonna be like Mr. Yeest from IGBP since smg4 and puzzles are similar like that- SOMETHING CRAZYS GONA HAPPEN- its like a huge ass plot twist like BRUH IS THAT MICKY MOUSE?!?!? LMAO- were ither gonna get an episode next sat abt mr puzzles haveing another reason/going after the SMG4 crew/Leggy and Mario or a wendsday vid thats like Oh BTW ima kill yall in 72 hours theres a carnaval in town or smthn crazy with Micky and Mr pUzlles lmao or were not gong to get WOTFI untuil begining of October :/ because they gotta have time to let people dicide chalanges and enough time to get a ton of them and a large variety/push out the lore/arc episodes for the chalanges
AnYwAyyyyy bak to watching puzzlevision- i might draw puzzles or some other comic idk yet- :)
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namazunomegami · 15 days
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“Kindly consider the question: what would your good do if evil did not exist, and what would the earth look like if shadows disappeared from it? Shadows are cast by objects and people. Here is the shadow of my sword. Trees and living beings also have shadows. Do you want to skin the whole earth, tearing all the trees and living things off it, because of your fantasy of enjoying bare light? You’re a fool.” - The Master and Margarita
#aaaand here we are with the ship moodboard#I think I’ll call them wolzebub#yes I can tell that they’re rotting my brain that I’m like my 4 year old self smashing my dolls head together screaming ‘now kiss!!’ but#but they’re truly a refreshing dynamic ngl#I usually write my ocxcanon ships with an underlining opposites attract kinda thing#like opposing values opposing characteristics opposing concepts and such#and the ship itself is basically a particle collider when it comes to writing interactions#but this girlie and woland are different parts of the same thing they’re both the devil#the seven deadly sins are basically the seven faces of the devil because all cardinal sins come from pride#yesterday I spent a lot of time to somehow figure out which sin woland represents because even tho the novel calls him satan#satan and lucifer are not the same entity they don’t even represent the same sin#satan is the sin of wrath while lucifer is the sin of pride and woland is rather proud than wrathful#his goal throughout the novel is basically exposing cowardice and false knowledge which is much more fitting for lucifer to do#anyway back to these two#shipping them is like shipping unohana with kenpachi but they’re old money and doesn’t want to fight each other to death#I mean they do fight a bit but it’s just play fighting and bickering#bc I apparently can’t ship anything if there’s no throwing vicious insults wrapped with a coquette bow and said in a loving manner#there’s still some respect for each other buried really deep like REAL deep#ok maybe not that deep#bc as I said you say something bad about one of them you’re dead you’re dead meat#I can make such a cunty yet hella gothic playlist for them#also I wanted a quote from the tragedy of man but the screenshot fucked up the whole thing I had to scrap it#my moodboards :3
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seokmatthewz · 1 year
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i do adore matthew so dearly i havent been this insane abt a kpop idol in so long
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artificialllovers · 2 years
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It’s funny to see other people be uncomfortable with my little anime man’s behavior because it just does not bother me. Y’all are crying and whining, and I’m looking at the same scene like “my man is rude 😍 he’s inconsiderate 🥰 he’s an instigator 😝 he’s causing problems 🥹 he’s bad at his job 😛”
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monzabee · 6 months
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pon de replay - cl16 (+18)
masterlist ||
Summary: The one where Charles decide to prove to everyone that it is him that you belong to, and only him.
Pairing: charles leclerc x reader 
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: smuttt, nothing but pure filth, one might even say it is pwp, unprotected sex (cover your willy don’t be silly), oral (f receiving), kinda exhibitionism?, public sex, jealous charles, possessive charles, carlos being a little shit because he’s bored, poor lando, not even sure if i fulfilled the request or not, minors dni!! 
Request: “HELLOOOO! i have an idea and you don’t have to write it but it’s been rattling around in my brain and im never gonna write it (i constantly have way too many ideas to write them fr) myself so i figured i’d send it to you cause you’ve kinda restored my F1 phase with your work. basically, reader being very goofy, funny, and maybe a little bit too loud at times. just like a very silly and bubbly personality and she hangs out with some of the f1 boys (maybe because she’s famous in her own right like a dancer or something) so naturally EVERYONE ships her with lando. like hardcore, almost as bad as one direction fans ships (iykyk), and it sorta makes sense cause when they’re together it’s pure and utter chaos and they both express themselves with physical touch B U T ! she’s actually with charles. to her it makes total sense to be with charles instead of lando cause while lando is definitely attractive he’s too much like her and it’d be like dating herself whereas charles brings out a new calm side to her and she can bring out a goofier side to him. opposites attract type shit😭. maybe a little angst cause charles hates seeing all the edits and also feels a little insecure cause lando and reader DO make sense together in his mind so why’d you pick him instead? then like soft fluff/smut reassurance that charles is literally the man of her dreams, a literal fucking prince, and the best person she’s ever been with. ANYWAYS, im rambling! again, you don’t have to write this if you don’t connect with it or don’t have time i just needed an outlet SOMEWHERE for all the F1 brain rot.”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i first of all want to start by saying that i’m very sorry that this isn’t exactly like the request, like at all, but it took me a criminal amount of time to actually get this finished so we’re not going to focus on that. okay? okay, great!! in all and all it was actually quite fun to work on this at the beginning, it was just kinda hard for some reason to work on the actual smut part, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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Charles wouldn’t call himself a possessive person, not a chance. He might be ambitious, and competitive, but possessive? That, he is not. He’s never been the type of get jealous of his partner’s friends, whether male or female, because he likes to think that he is mature enough to understand that people have friends. It’s that simple. And he is most definitely not the type of person to comment on what you wear when you’re going out, he is just not that guy. He’s fairly certain that his mother would materialise out of thin air and give him a good beating if he were to do that. So when you asked him about the dress you have on earlier before you left his apartment, the one that clings to your body so tightly that he can practically make out the outline of your tits from across the room? He just smiled and told you to have fun tonight – because he’s there to make sure you’re not put off by anyone staring at you in it.
So yeah. He’s not usually the type to let the jealousy take over his ability to think things out rationally, but when his girlfriend is dancing her heart away in the middle of the dance floor while every red-blooded men watch her with the same look in their eyes? Yeah, it’s not easy to keep his emotions in check at the moment given the circumstances. And it’s not that he even intends to pout like a petulant child at the bar, making sure to keep an eye on you, it’s just that he is an expressive person and his face reflects what he’s feeling that well. Totally because of that. It’s scary how utterly focused he is on you, watching your every move to make sure no one is bothering you, though you don’t seem to be in need of his help as he watches you dance with one of the girls you met when you first arrived to the club – and with Lando, though he tries not to focus on that part too much.
It's fine, though, he tries to make himself believe, it’s fine as long as you’re having fun. Though that doesn’t necessarily stop him from throwing daggers into Lando’s direction as covertly as he can. The way he has a friendly arm around you is driving him crazy, and he is not above stomping over there to pull you under his arm, drag you to the nearest bathroom and– Well, maybe he shouldn’t get too far ahead of himself just yet.
“They look good together, no?” He hears someone ask him from the side. He realises it is his teammate when he turns to give the person a glare.
“Who?” He asks, deciding to play dumb, but he can’t help himself as he makes a face while focusing his gaze back on you.
“You know who I’m talking about, cabrón!” Carlos exclaims, laughing as he pats him on the back and points to the two of you with a tilt of his head, “I’m glad he’s finally doing something about it rather than sulking around like a geriatric toddler.”
If he would have turned around any faster, Charles is sure his neck would actually, possibly, break. “What?” he spits out as he turns around, “Do you mean her and Lando?”
Carlos gives his teammate a confused look, “Yes,” he drawls out, “you didn’t know he had a crush on her? I thought the entire paddock knew!” Charles feels a surge of disbelief and a tinge of anger bubbling within him.
He wouldn't call it possessiveness, more like a primal instinct to protect what's his. But this revelation catches him off guard, shattering his carefully constructed facade of nonchalance. With doing his best to keep calm under the situation, he asks, “Are you sure you’re not making things up? I feel like you’re misreading the situation here.”
That receives another confused look from his teammate, and though Charles is quite the perceptive person, he misses Carlos starting to put the pieces together – thanks to his overreaction. “I guess so,” Carlos mumbles, loud enough for Charles to hear him in the loud club, “he’s always talking about her, though. The way she smiles, her hair, her dresses; did you know he even went to see one of her performances in Vegas?” Carlos feels bad, really, but there is also something so fulfilling in confirming his theories as he watches his teammate’s eyes bulge out at the mention of one of your dance shows in Vegas. Because Charles knows what those entail.
“I-in Vegas?” He stutters out, eyes moving to focus on your dancing figure again. And at that moment, he absolutely hates Lando. He hates him for having his arms around you, he hates him for dancing with you to the beat in a rhythm he never seems to be able to keep up with, he hates him for the way everybody seems to think the two of you seem to make a handsome couple, and he absolutely hates him for the way he makes you smile.
Charles Leclerc is not a possessive guy – until it comes to you, that is.
“Charles?” He hears Carlos call out his name, but he’s out of his seat long before he can hear the end of his sentence. He doesn’t mean to stomp across the dance floor to get to you. He really doesn’t. He also doesn’t mean to grab you by your arm and put a pause on your fun. And the smile you give him and the way you wrap your arms around his neck while you call him ‘Charlie’? Makes his heart stutter in a way that makes him forget why he ever came over in this first place. Because this should be normal – you, having male friends and spending time with them should not make him insecure. He should be fine with you and Lando spending time together because you both love the hustle and bustle of a club. But at that moment, he doesn’t care about what should be normal, no. He cares about the fact that someone other than him has managed to make you smile, and that he needs to remind you that he’s the only one who should be on the receiving end of all your smiles.
So when he drags you away from the dancefloor (and Lando, for that matter), he doesn’t listen to your objections. He doesn’t care about the way Carlos is watching from his place from the bar, putting all the pieces together as he shares a look with Lando. And he most definitely doesn’t care about the fact that he’s about to fuck you in the club’s bathroom. Well, maybe he does care about that last part. “Charlie,” you whine, your voice clearly scratched from shouting along the lyrics of the songs playing throughout the night, and he doesn’t miss the way you slur his name ever so slightly – which tells him that you had at least two drinks. Cosmopolitans, if he had to guess. “Pleaaase,” you drag out the word, pulling on his shirt to get his attention, “they are playing my song!”
His first mistake is to look at you, because the way your lips form a pout and the way you’re giving him puppy dog eyes is usually strong enough for him to give in. Though this is no usual situation. So instead of moving the two of you back to the dancefloor, he grabs you by your cheeks and presses his lips against you. In the middle of the club, where everybody can see him doing it. The way his lips move against yours is aggressive, and you’re definitely out of breath when he does move away. Cosmopolitans, he realises after tasting you. You've had cosmopolitans. Then, he just gives you a look, threads his fingers through yours and raises an eyebrow. Then he asks, “Are you going to be a good girl and come with me now, or should I do this the hard way and just carry you on my shoulder?”
If this was any other situation, you would totally say something bratty back. Hell, you might have actually said something rude if it meant him being rough with you, maybe spanking you a few times just enough times for you to learn your lesson. But you understand that this is no ordinary situation from his voice and the expression on his face. Charles is like that, you suppose. He’s an open book – meaning that it is very easy to understand what kind of a mood he’s in just by looking at his face, or listening to the undertone of his voice. And right now? Right now you know he’s pissed. You don’t necessarily know what you did, nor do you care. Mainly because all you want to do is make him feel better simply because of the reason that he is one of those people who’s just meant to smile at all times, not frown.
And so you nod gingerly, squeaking out a thimble, “Yes.” You finally meet his eyes as you wrap yourself around his arm, pushing yourself closer to him in the crowded club. “I’ll be good.”
This thumb does that thing where he caresses your knuckle, and he starts moving you through the crowd again. This time, however, you try to stick to him by matching the speed of his steps rather than trying to stay back. You told him you’d be good, you intend to keep your promise. He’s quiet all the way to the bathroom, and he’s quiet when he motions you to get inside, and he’s quiet when he closes to door and promptly locks it behind your back. You think for a moment you’re just there for a chat, maybe about that something you might’ve done, but Charles takes you by surprise as he grabs your waist and pushes you against the door, causing your eyes to widen with realisation of what you’re about to do in that bathroom.
“Charles, what’s wrong?” You try to ask, but he shuts you up with another kiss. And if you thought the previous kiss was aggressive, this one absolutely consumes you. He doesn’t even give you a fighting chance as his tongue quickly dominates yours, and he is relentless as he nips at your lower lip. You can’t help the mortifying moan that leaves your lips, and you push him away to inhale deeply. “What has gotten into you?” You ask, eyes wide due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins, “What happened?”
“You, happened.” He growls. And by that, you mean that he actually growls. His voice is a few octaves deeper than his usual voice, and you can see that he’s snappy. There is this dark look in his eyes that would otherwise scare you if you didn’t know him, but you do. Because he’s your Charles.
And you know this because the quickly leans into your touch when you bring one of your hands up to cup his cheek, giving him a confused look. “Did I do something?” You ask, voice soft amidst the humid bathroom. “Oh my god, is it my dress? Is it too short?” Your eyebrows draw closer as you start properly spiralling. “I knew I should’ve worn the shorts, why didn’t you say something?”
Your mini monologue about your party attire must have struck a chord because Charles suddenly exhales heavily, his forehead resting against yours as he closes his eyes. “No, non, it's not about the fucking dress,” he lashes out, his voice strained, and lace with something else that you can’t quite catch. “I don’t care what you wear, though I do appreciate the easy access.”
“Easy access?” You repeat, testing out the words as you come to a realisation. “What?” You exclaim, quickly taking your hand away from his face to lightly slap at his chest. “No! We are definitely not doing that here, are you out of your mind? You pulled me away because you can’t keep it in your pants until we’re home?”
“And why not?” He asks, and this time, you can see the unbridled rage behind his look. “Would you rather go back to Lando out there? You looked quite happy in his arms after all.”
And the realisation dawns on you right then and there. That this isn’t about your choice of dress for the evening, no. It is about Lando. Though you don’t get that part, since he’s both of your friend, so why is Charles being like this? And you would ask him, of course. But the look he gives you indicates that he doesn’t want to be tested in that exact moment.
So instead, you attempt to calm him down, by dragging your hand gently down his chest and wrapping your arms around his middle. He is like that, your Charles, sometimes he just wants to be held to see reason. “Charlie,” you call out, voice soft as you give him a pleading look, “why don’t you tell me what this is about, hm?”
You think he’s going to finally give in for a moment, but then he just gives you a blank stare. “I don’t want to talk,” he grunts, pulling you flush against him by the hands he has on your waist. His lips are on your neck faster than you can say anything, working his way towards your collarbones. The faint whimpers that come out of your lips bring a small smile to his lips knowing that he’s the one causing them, not Lando or any other guy.
“Charles,” you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips trail along your skin. Despite the confusion and frustration swirling within you, you can't deny the way his touch ignites a fire deep within you, consuming your thoughts and leaving you breathless with desire. But as much as you crave his touch, you know that there are unresolved issues between you, issues that need to be addressed before you can fully give yourself to him in this moment. “Charlie,” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper as you gently push against his chest, urging him to stop. “Stop, we need to talk about this.”
“Talk about what?” He asks, all breathy and with a wild look in his eyes. You can see that he’s trying to hold himself back, but at the same time his hands keep moving on your body in a way that makes you want to let him lose control and perhaps even join him. He successfully ignores your attempts at pushing him away, sliding his hands down on your body to grab the hem of your dress, clenching the material in his hand while dragging it upwards on your thighs until he reaches the soft skin of your stomach. “I have a thing in mind which might help me feel better.” Unable to take your eyes off of him, you take a stuttered breath as you watch him slowly get down on his knees, his lips pressing kisses starting form your sternum continuing down your body over your dress until you feel his lips on the exposed skin of your stomach. His kisses stop once he’s met with the top lining of your underwear, looking at you with a mischevious glint in his eyes as he nips at the nimble lace adorning the top. You call out his name in a weak whimper – though it is not clear to you, nor him, whether you’re asking him to stop or go on. Charles decides to go with the latter. “You know what to say if you want me to stop.”
You don’t really need his reminder, you realise, but it is a welcome one. Your cheeks blush even further when you feel his gaze on you as he lowers his face towards your core, leaving a sweet kiss onto your clit through the fabric of your thong. Suddenly, you want nothing more than to just rip to whole thing apart so there is nothing separating you from him, but you know the game, and you especially know that the ending is sweeter than what you could ever imagine at that moment. And so you wait – you wait until he eventually makes his move and gives your slit a generous lick through the fabric. Watching you is equal parts thrilling and painful, mainly because he wants to drag out his teasing as long as possible just to see you falling apart for him. It’s second nature to you, the way your hand threads through his hair to move him the way you want to, but it is of course not an option because it’s Charles who is in charge.
He makes this known by the way he pulls away, ignoring the way your hands scramble to guide him back to where you want him to be. He nips at the skin of your thigh in a warning manner, pulling a whine from your lips as he fixes you with a look, “You’re not in control tonight, mon bijou, I’ll stop if you try to take over. You got that?” It’s sobering to see him take control in such a way, you sweet little Charles. Usually, he has no problem just laying back and letting you take all the control, or even just making you believe you do. But now? With the way he’s looking at you with such hunger? You know you’d be soaking through your underwear if you weren’t so wet for him already. All you can do is offer him a meek nod, with your lips hanging open in shock, but he is not satisfied with your answer. No, he needs to hear you say the words. So, being the initiative person that he his, he tips at your skin again, this time earning himself a whimper along a grumble about how he’s being unreasonable. He isn’t, but that’s a topic to discuss another time, he decides. “I said, you got that?”
“Yes! Fine, yes!” You whine, grabbing your dress even tighter with your fist that isn’t buried in his hair, “Please just make me come.”
“See?” He asks, flashing you a sweet smile as he lowers his face back onto where you need him the most, “It wasn’t that hard now, is it?” The grumble about how he’s about to be the hard one, makes him chuckle to himself, the rumbling from it making you moan his name as he finally gives you what you want. His tongue works fast as he laps on the wetness through your underwear, soaking the material even more without a care in the world. If you weren’t wet before, you’re sure you’re definitely wet as he drags his tongue through your slit and back onto your clit to suck it through the fabric, causing you to let out a string of moans, each getting considerably louder as he works on your cunt.
The breath is knocked out of your lungs as the moments pass, as you become closer and closer to your impending release. You don’t even notice the fact that you’ve started to move your hips to match the rythym of his tongue, seeking something more to make you tip over the edge. You’re also very aware of the fact that Charles is letting you what you want to do, and though you’re scared out of you midn that he’ll stop like he threatened to do before, the little nod he gives you when you give him a pleading look assures you that he also wants you to come undone on his face.
Or so you’ve thought.
Because he knows your body so well that jus as you’re about to come he pulls back, leaving you high and dry, and even has the nerve to chuckle when he hears his name coming out of your mouth in a high pitched whine. You’re so lost in the moment that you almost miss the way he gently grabs your hands and removes them from his hair, pinning them above you and pushing you against the wall. “Why?” You whine, lips pushed out in a pout as your voice gets gradually whinier, “I was so close, Charles.”
“Oh, baby,” he cooes, “I know you were, I could feel it too.” He starts peppering your feverish skin with kisses, as if to say sorry for leaving you on the brink of an orgasm, and you find yourself arching your neck to expose more of your skin to his skillfull lips. You should stop him, some part of you screams to you in your head, because with the way he’s disguising the fact that he’s marking you with hickeys, but you don’t care at that moment. Your every breath and moan seem to motivate him to work faster, and harder, and when he eventually pulls back to leave a bruising kiss on your lips. A smirk finds its way onto his lips as he gives you an eyeing down, taking in how breathless you look. “Don’t worry, mon bijou, I’ll fuck you now, okay?”
You don’t even realise the nod you give him, too lost in his eyes to put words together to form a proper sentence. He’s gentle with you as he lets go of your hands and positions you the way he wants. With one of your legs wrapped around his hip he has better access to your soaked underwear, his fingers working quickly to pulling it aside. You don’t know when he managed to get himself free from his pants and underwear, but that doesn’t stop you from letting out a loud moan when you feel the tip of his cock circling your clit. “Please, please, please,” your voice cracks as you frantically beg him to do something more. You’d love nothing more than to scold him for the way he shushes you condescendingly, but any complaint you had evaporates when you feel him nudge your entrance. “Please,” you breathe out again, giving him pleading looks as you try to pull him closer somehow, “You promised me you’d fuck me.”
That manages to pull out a beathy chuckle for him, and as if he’s trying to console you, you feel his fingers gently caressing the skin of your hip. “Why don’t you do it yourself, hm?” A grin widens on his lips when you give him a look of confusion, and he leads one of your hands between your bodies for you to wrap it around his cock. “You want me inside you, right?” He rewards your tentative nod with a series of kisses down the column of your throat, “Come on then,” he mumbles into your skin, “put it in, pretty girl.” Exhaling a shaky breath, you keep your eyes on him as you guide him through your entrance. A gasp is torn from your lips when you feel his tip entering you, the initial stretch being more overwhelming because of the fact that you’re standing up. But Charles is quick to soothe you with his kisses down your neck, letting you control the rhythym and how further he can move inside you at first. With your hand making its way down to his hip, pressing him close to you, he quickly gets the message that you’re ready for him. “You’re ready?” He double-checks, raising his head to fix his eyes to yours.
“I swear to god if you don’t fuck me right now–” Your words are interrupted when you feel him move his hips back, just enough to have his tip inside you, and then he snaps his hips forward to thrust back in, making your breath hitch at the back of your throat. It doesn’t take very long for you to become a moaning mess, in fact, you’re more than ready to fall apart for him then and there, but you know he won’t let you until he gets his point across.   
“Look at you, mon bijou,” Charles darkly chuckles, hips matching the rhythym of the song playing outside at the dance floor, “what would people think if they saw you being such a mess for me in a club’s bathroom?” And the whine you let out in response to his question nothing if pathethic, but you can’t find it in you to care because of how good he’s making you feel. “Yes?” He prompts you, mocking the whiny ‘Yes’, that leaves your mouth before you start begging him to let you come. But he doesn’t, because he knows you can hold it until he’s ready for you too, and he tells you just that.
“So good, Charlie, so good,” you can’t help the broken moans you let out as he fucks you to the brink of an orgasm. But that is not enough for him, no. He needs everyone to know the two of you are together now, needs to get out all of his pent up frustrations out.
So when the opportunity presents itself with Lando knocking on the door asking if you are okay? A knowing smirk find its way onto his lips, and you try to silently plead with him with your eyes. “You want to cum?” He whispers in your ear, his thrusts becoming faster. “Say my name if you want to come, baby.”
“Please–” You gasp, hands grabbing the shirt he’s wearing. It’s no avail even if you try to keep your voice down. Because when Charles finds a way to slither his hand down between your legs and starts rubbing your clit in firm circles? You know there is no way you can stay quiet through your orgasm. “Why?” You manage to get out, “God, Charles please.”
“Tell me who’s making you feel so good, pretty girl.” He encourages you, his rhythym now almost brutal as he tries his best to make you come for him. “Come on, tell me who you belong to.” He chuckles darkly when he sees you shaking your head. “It’s not Lando, it’s me. You hear that?” Uh-huh, is the only answer he receives in return, but he is of course not satisfied with it. So, he gently pinches the inside of your thigh. “Tell me who’s going to make you come, or I’ll stop.”
“N-no!” You exclaim, too overwhelmed to see that his threat is an empty one, because he would never actually do something like that to you. “Please, please don’t stop.”
“Come on,” he cooes, the sweet words he whispers into your skin making you more and more malleable to his request. “Say my name baby, let me hear you.”
“Charles,” your loud moan cuts the heavy air in the bathroom. Cheeks flushed, breath unorganised and with that wild look in your eyes? There’s nothing Charles wouldn’t do for you. With every move of his hips, you moan his name louder, eventually tipping over the edge as he feels you squeezing his cock so tight that he almost loses himself then and there.
That’s not to say he doesn’t, of course. Because just as you’re about done with your orgasm, you feel him come inside you, chanting your name alongside mine, mine mine. It takes a long time for the both of you to get back to your senses, but he’s extremely gentle with you as he helps you down and fixes your underwear. You find yourself snuggling up to him when he eventually takes you into his arms after fixing his own clothing, nuzzling your nose to his neck. “You know, I think I like the jealous side of you.” You mumble, leaving a few kisses across his jaw.
“Yeah?” He asks, a breathy chuckle leaving him as he cradles your face with both of his hands, his thumbs caressing the apples of your cheeks.
“Yeah.” You nod, giving him a small smile, “But I need you to take me home, please, I can feel your cum dripping down my leg.”
“Oh baby,” he coos, tutting as he slides his hands down your body to grab you by the waist, “we’re not going home, it would be rude to leave our friends by themselves. Don’t you think so?” The flabbergasted look that you give him makes another chuckle come from his lips as he slowly turns you towards the door. His lips find the junction between your neck and shoulder again as he announces, “We’re going to go back out there, and we’re going to dance. We wouldn’t want you to miss your song now, would we?”
And when he opens the bathroom door and you hear the first words to a Rihanna song you love? You know it’s going to be a long night ahead of you.
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ozzgin · 1 month
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Some more dick-related brain rot…😘
We take the self serve dick bar and use monsters for the monster hotel. We are going to have that full “continental breakfast.” So we have a forest entity cumming maple syrup, a Minotaur cumming milk/creme, a yeti who cums slushies, a slime who cums various jams depending on whatever fruit we feed it, and any more monsters who we can utilize ☺️
When you were talking about your rats, it made me think of some rat-hybrid monster where reader can steer him via. his dick, like a reverse Ratatouille scenario 🐀
Having a robot/android partner, I could use his dick as a literal joy stick when playing video games. Also, if I have to charge robot/android, do you think his dick acts like a giant extension cord I could just plug into the outlet in the wall? Also does that mean he technically “eats” with his dick? I assume when traveling with him internationally, I gotta get a lot of compatible adapters so he can get plugged in successfully🕹️
A Hydra monster would be kinda funny to have sex with, cause maybe if you cut its “head” down south, two more will grow back 🤔
I think that’s all for now. Tell your man that he is very much appreciated, and it’s nice he’s in this club of debauchery 😉
-👘
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This amount of thirst and depravity is exactly what the monster guests would come up with just to have Reader employee touch them. 😭 Content: gender neutral reader, rancid NSFW!!! (more white sauce I’m afraid), monster smut
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The latest fad your centaur manager has been into is food cooked with bodily fluids. This has had several implications, all of them regrettably involving you.
While the idea has been gripping at his mind like a great plague, he can't possibly ask you to just...let go over his breakfast toast. He can already see how exhausted you return after being used by the starved guests. They stuff you just enough for you to wonder if you'll survive it, then make sure to clean up their mess, politely aiding your speedy recovery, almost as if they weren't the cause of destruction to begin with. The manager has heard it one too many times that your nether regions are numb from all the monstrous tongues and appendages.
Maybe a change of scenery will help.
"Kitchen staff? I thought I'm supposed to clean the rooms", you inquire, somewhat confused by the sudden proposal.
"It's not quite...kitchen duties, per se. We need someone to help with the hotel's breakfast. We have a new experimental menu, though not enough...hands."
You should've expected it. How bad could it possibly be, you told yourself, pouring some orange juice for the seated guests? You had your first suspicions from the big, flashy sign now propped outside the room: service provided by our esteemed and loved human employee. You didn't need to ponder much on its meaning. Once inside, your task became painfully clear. You were to milk the guests for the required ingredients.
Having their way with you is a treat in itself, but seeing you struggle with your small, human hands, trying to figure them out? Priceless. Well, for them, anyways. Despite your protests, you have left your morning shifts with a ridiculous number of tips. Maybe it's the way you look up through your lashes as you explain: "Of course I know your weak spot. You're one of my- our regulars." Or maybe it's the way you tease your favorites, wondering out loud, with a grin, if you should have some of the generous release for your own lunch later.
Your hard work has not gone unnoticed. The centaur head manager recently made the sheepish suggestion of having you at the receiving end of this new service, trying his best to sound convincing, and hiding the fact it’s been his most ardent wish for the past couple of weeks. Maybe he will get his breakfast topping, after all.
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[Monster Hotel] | [More Monsters]
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teruthecreator · 2 years
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i don’t think i’m gonna get better and that’s the scariest part of my life rn
#in neg city#i just. idk how much longer i can keep doing this#idk how much more i can keep pretending that anything’s helping#therapy is just an excuse to cry. my meds don’t work. i cant sleep at all#it’s 5 AM and i don’t even feel tired#i’m just so sick of putting in the effort of even waking up bc clearly that’s not doing anything#i just. i cant do this shit anymore man. i’m done#i have so many quote unquote ‘good’ things in the works rn but none of it like. feels good#i have a job secured and i’m still just depressed. in fact i’d say im even more so now#bc my brain keeps telling me that im gojng to be stuck at this job forever and my life is never going to change or mean anything#and it’s just like. i had a realization with my therapist on friday that like. i don’t see myself as a person#i see myself like some sort of machine that u can overwork to death bc it doesn’t matter. it’s just a machine#and i remember when she said that i just. couldn’t say anything in response. bc she’s right#bc there’s no amount of kindness i think im deserving of for how little output it gives me#in a way i almost wish i was back in highschool so i could be verbally abused into moving#i don’t know how to fix that conditioning. i don’t know how to be nice to myself. i don’t know how to care about me#i know how to care about others! and i do every day. but me? nahhhh let me rot#let me sit in a corner and fester. not like that’s much different from what im doing right now anyway#idk man. im jsut so tired. like. mentally tired#NOT physically oh no im only physically tired in the middle of the afternoon like some sort of freak#but im mentally tired of pretending like im getting better when i’m clearly not#idk. guess i’ll try laying here with the lights off. hopefully i don’t have a panic attack again
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beautysamour · 1 year
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ok, confession time.
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pairing: miguel o’hara x reader
summary: confession time ٩( ᐛ )و
warnings: none.
a/n: I caved…
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“Alright, hear me out.” “No.”
Miguel interrupts without missing a beat. You scoff as you watch him turn his back to you as he refocuses on the many projectors in front of him. “All that technology is going to rot your brain,” you mumble out under your breath.
“What?”
“Nothing. Anyways,” you curl your two middle fingers inward towards your palm as you direct a web to the floating island Miguel was on. “As I was saying, hear me out.” You hear a distressed sigh coming from the man in front of you but decided to brush it off. He was going to hear you out.
He remained silent, an indirect indication for you to continue your thoughts.
“Being stressed all the time is going to do no good for the spiderverse.”
“Arachnoid humanoid poly multiverse.”
“Yeah, that, so as I was saying… having one dinner wouldn’t doom the multiverse.”
Another sigh was let out this time, but this time it was out of exhaustion. He calls out your name causing your back to straighten as he finally turns to face you.
“The fate of the multiverse,” he begins before getting cut off by a web, coming from you, connecting with his torso and jerking him towards your direction.
He tilted his head at you once you stopped pulling him closer, leaving probably three centimeters of space between you two.
He wasn’t surprised by this action, no, you’ve done this multiple times. Pulled him too close for comfort, causing all logical thoughts in his brain to short circuit as it filled with thoughts of you.
You could hear his heartbeat. It’s one of the pros that come with being a spider person, your heightened senses. In moments like these where your own heartbeat was far too hard for you control you’d rely on his to calm you down, however it seemed to have done the opposite.
Why was it so fast?
Hearing your name managed to take you out of your momentarily dazed self.
“Is everything alright?” Miguel, whose body was practically leaning on yours, lightly shook you for he was disturbed by your suddenly quiet self.
“Yeah,” you replied far too quickly as you forced yourself to take a few steps back to create some distance between you two.
“Anyways,” you stuttered out, “I was just going to say how you always loose me whenever you start talking about the multiverse. Yeah, always manages to make my brain shut off.”
Miguel stared at you confused as you start to awkwardly ramble on about how the very premise of the multiverse is strange.
“And it’s so weird how technically-“
“Stop talking.”
You immediately close your mouth.
For the third time tonight, Miguel lets out a sigh as he closes the distance between the two of you. One second your mouth is opening to question why he’s taking more steps than necessary, and the next it’s occupied by the mouth of his.
When you don’t push him away and instead lean into his body, his hand travels up to your neck and his thumb presses against the area where your adams apple would’ve been to tilt your head up slightly more.
The one to end the kiss first is you, Miguel attempts to follow and close that distance once again but gets interrupted by the hand you put on his chest to stop him.
For a second Miguel starts to think he read the entire situation wrong. But you leaned into him so what does that mean-
“Miguel,” you begin saying softly and you looked up at him, “how did you know,” when he gives you a blank expression you let out a small snicker before continuing, “that I liked you.��
He tilts his head again as he looked down at you, “You thought I wasn’t able to sense your heartbeat? Cariño, even though I don’t have the spider sense that you have, my senses are still heightened.”
“Oh,” you say dumbfounded. Right.
“Yeah,” he says quietly as he tries to kiss you again.
“Wait,” you interrupt. “So, do you…like me too?”
“…We just kissed.”
“Yeah but, friends with benefits exist-“
Miguel groaned as you began to ramble on about how kissing doesn’t mean requited feelings, and while he understood what you were saying he’d much rather feel your lips on his than watch them speak about a scenario that wasn’t the case with this situation.
“Ok, then how about we get dinner.”
You widened your eyes at his words, a smile threatens to show on your face but you try to keep your composure, “…Ok. So…is this a date?”
“Yes,” he exhales, “Yes, it will be a date.”
“Ok.” You say excitedly before connecting a web with the ground beneath you two and jumping down, “See you in…?”
“Does thirty minutes sound good?”
“Yeah,” you start to smile, “yeah, thirty minutes sounds good.” You give him an actual smile before turning around getting ready to run through the halls of hq to tell Peter and Mayday all about this interaction.
“Ok,” Miguel says under his breath as he watches you leave.
“Why are you so awkward?”
“Lyla shut up.”
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fawnhunter · 2 months
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cregan stark aka mr attitude adjustment.
sometimes cregan needs to check himself, and make sure ur good too
this is part of a series which at the moment also includes benjicot blackwood. if there's anyone you'd like to see done next please let me know! general NSFW content warning, talk of impregnation.
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lalala cregan stark lalala tom taylor...can i just preface this by saying he causes the ultimate brain rot. i look at him and my brain just goes " big man in pelts and amour big man in pelts and-" anyway!
to me cregan stark is the physical embodiment of non sexual dominance. i mean we all know how well the men of the north treat their women, like they are queens even if they wear the crown or not. and being with the lord of winterfell himself only makes things better. He walks into a room and he demands control and attention, and when people see you his pretty little wife hanging off his arm it only makes him feel that much more powerful.
back to the n.s.d thing, lets just says he's a natural "father" figure. i can see him falling for someone who needs some... light correcting... are u following me. finding love with someone who may be a bit mouthy. who isn't afraid to look him in the face and disagree with him, to offer a different opinion from the other daft cunts int he room. someone who will watch him train, who will watch him knock new coming knights onto the ground without flinching away.
i just think he would find excitement in someone with a little fight in them. someone he can back into a corner with his body mass alone, looking down his nose at you no matter how much to try to stand tall in front of him. staring you down into submission until you don't have a peep left in you, giving him the talking space to tell you how exactly things are going to go from here on out. [nsfw]
its hard to imagine actual angry sex with cregan, a man made of honor like that would never try and apologize with his cock before he does so with his words. however, i can imagine jealous, possessive, and passionate sex with cregan after his honor towards you has been tested. maybe someone eludes to you having an hard time producing heirs, suggesting someone else. or maybe they have the audacity to marry you off or send you away for some sort of gain for winterfell. all of a sudden there's knocking on ur chamber doors, and ur being pushed into ur room instead of opening the door properly.
from there the evening existed entirely of hot and heavy breathing accompanied by his harsh grip moving along ur skin. he touches you with purpose, like he's trying to leave some sort of trace of him on ur skin. teeth biting into ur neck, the feeling similar to that of a wolfs fangs leaving bruises on ur skin after a harsh nip. if it was up to him he would've torn ur shift away from ur body and throw it into the fire, leaving you bare before his eyes for the rest of time. his war torn hands run up along whatever parts of you he can reach. his touches are desperate in the way he pushes you into the chaise, in way too much of a hurry to move both of you to the bed it seems. fingers prepping ur sweet cunt while muttering words of owners ship and adoration into ur neck. his hair tickles ur skin as you begin to claw at the part of him you can. its clumsy and desperate, the kind of intercourse where you know there's something he's trying to get off his chest but he just doesn't have the words to say it. its when he finally sheathes himself inside of you that he tells you all about the lords who dared to speak of you to his face. heavy girth pumping in and out of you while his voice gets louder and louder, crying out ur name over the sounds of lilted moans. making sure all the lords and ladies down the hall know that you won't be going anywhere. especially away from him.
this is my first work for cregan i love him so much that wolf of a man. my ask box is always open tbh i love to yap especially abt hotd
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kakujis · 9 months
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ALL I WANTED WAS YOU.
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and when the world treats you way too fairly... well, it's a shame i'm a dream.
synopsis: a break up is nothing, not when the two of you are sworn to be together. satoru thinks you just need a little reminder.
warnings: dark content. ageless blogs + minors DNI. afab!fem reader, sub!reader, yandere!satoru, switching povs at times, possessive behavior, dubcon, recording, dacryphilia, cheating (not on gojo), somno, praise, manipulation, gaslighting, mind break(?), begging, fingering, oral f!receiving, choking, pussy slapping, creampie, masochism (reader), tiny bit of man handling and hair pulling. he is mean AND whiny. he literally sniffs u at one point lol. you wear makeup. implied multiple rounds.
ft + wc: gojo x reader, around 5.2k
@enchantedforest-network
an: hi, so like months ago (as all my wips start) i had this idea for toxic!ex bf gojo which delved into yan gojo LOL. he is so hard to write... like wtf... so anyway this was been rotting away since september!! i think i did lose my mind just a little bit writing this ngl LMFAO. idk if i really leaned that heavily into the yan, but we are going to truck along and post this anyways. thanks for waitin'. also, thank you to dooby and sky for both proofreading and giving me some ideas to push through, @sxgars for the banner, and my brain/fingers for not giving up.
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gojo satoru still remembers the day you left, eyes puffy and face streaked with makeup as you stormed out of your shared apartment. in gojo’s mind, it was fine, you’d be back. no matter how big of a fight, you always came back. 
but it’s been months now of you ignoring his calls and texts, avoiding him whenever you see him. you’ve even blocked him on some of your social media platforms since he can only access the ones you haven’t used in years. most people have told him to let it go, move on, it’s not worth it. but satoru’s heart knows what it wants and at the core of it all, it wants: you. 
he thinks you might need a little coaxing, something to help you realize you love him again. once he finds out your address, his plan is set. he spruces himself up, spritzing on the cologne of his that was your favorite, even getting suguru to stop by the flower shop near his workplace to grab you a bouquet. yes, gojo’s got it all figured out. he’ll swing by, shower you in love like he used to, and you’ll realize you missed him just as bad. 
imagine his dismay when you won’t even open the door, your voice muffled from the other side. you tell him to leave, it’s over, you don’t want to see him anymore. he begs you to open it, just give him one more chance, but you sigh, crack the door open a smidge, and tell him. 
“satoru, leave. my boyfriend’s here.” 
he thinks that word is disgusting if he’s not the one it’s referring to. maybe you’re lying, maybe it’s another ruse to get him to piss off, but when you peek behind your shoulder, giving a little smile, the kind you used to give gojo, soft, sweet, loving; he realizes you’re completely honest. 
the lump in his throat is sticky, clinging onto the walls of his neck like gum. meanwhile, his heart feels like it’s beating in his ears, a not-so-friendly reminder of his fragility. 
you turn back, eyeing the flowers, an assortment of your favorite kinds - satoru, satoru, i like these, see? - and in a moment of soft-heartedness, step out. you can’t deny the pull of your heartstrings, satoru’s endearing aura plucking at them in a solemn tune, but you’re different now. you don’t need satoru anymore.  
“look,” you start, adjusting his tie and fixing the crinkling cellophane. “maybe you could give this to someone else? they’re so pretty, someone out there would be lucky to have them. and, you’re satoru, handsome, funny, sweet. you’ll find someone else in no time!” 
but he just stares, eyes boring into you as if it feels like the wind’s been taken out of him as your words fall on deafened ears. fuck the flowers, you’re so pretty, you’re the one people are lucky to have. in a sense, he’s bewildered because there’s no way you’ve actually moved on… right? 
you sigh again, a hint of exasperation tinging your voice, “gojo, i think… this should be the last time we see each other.” you step back, hand on the door handle. to you, this is a step in the right direction. 
for him, he finds that the way you don’t use his first name has him wanting to rip his hair out from the root. 
“wait, please, i love you.” he states, finally finding his voice, feeling like his time with you is running out. his lip quivers while his heart continues to shatter with each passing second. “i’d do anything for you, you know that right?”
ah. same old satoru, the man who swore he’d take the moon from the sky if you wanted. anyone looking in would swear you were lucky, but you remember things being a little… suffocating. it was too much, too overwhelming eventually. 
you bite your lip, strengthening your hold on the handle, ready to leave. you can’t meet his gaze, knowing that if you do you might falter. “but i don’t. i don’t love you anymore.” - it’s a lie, you know it is from the little bud inside your chest blooming, breaking out past the walls of your heart, but you just… can’t. 
he shakes his head, taking a step forward. “you don’t mean that.” 
“i do, satoru!” you flinch at your own voice, taking a deep breath to calm down. “please, just leave.” you tell him one more time before you retreat back inside and slam the door. 
he waits for a few minutes, thinking that maybe he’s on one of those prank shows. you’re going to open the door, tell him it was a joke, and to come inside. except you don’t, and he’s stuck under the low flickering haze of your complex’s lights. 
gojo’s a bit stunned on the walk back home, foggy eyesight mixed with thoughts flying a mile a minute equates to a tall stumbling man with no care for those around him. he can’t even count how many people he’s bumped into, let alone the amount of sorrys he’s muttered, the now crumpled bouquet still firmly held in his hand, indicated by the whites of his knuckles. 
when he gets home, he sinks into the floor, his head wrapped around his arms before he flings the bouquet across the room. “fuck!” a picture frame of the two of you clatters to the floor, glass breaking in tiny, jagged pieces. he kept it after all, in hopes that you’d come back eventually, but now it’s clear you’re not. he doesn’t even care that he’s knocked something off a table, he’s so fucking hurt.
hurt that you’ve moved on so easily, hurt that you’re out there calling someone else ‘baby’. he can’t fucking stand it, wanting to rip out the baseboards of his home or set it all on fire. from the first day he met you, gojo’s always firmly believed you were made for him. that thought was always reaffirmed with every ‘i love you,’ that dripped from your lips into his ear every morning and evening. 
maybe it’s not the best timing, but he remembers other things as well. like each time he’s been deep inside you and your pretty mouth would hang open, eyes blown and glassy, as you gasped out his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say. or even the times you took initiative yourself, crawling under the covers to wake him up, kitten licks and sloppy kisses to his cockhead. his own eyes met yours, with a lidded call of reverence, and that was all he needed to know. 
there’s no reason to wallow, he thinks, a small reignition of flame in his gut brewing. each passing memory that trickles by is another reminder that you did love him. no, that’s not right. you do love him.
okay, he thinks, i can still fix this. you just need a little reminding is all. you love him and you’re just a little confused. maybe his mind is breaking, but he reminds himself that it’s better his mind than his heart. 
”yeah,” he mumbles, dusting himself as he gets up off the floor. “she still loves me.” 
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to be honest, breaking and entering wasn’t really his thing, he never saw the appeal in it before. but, this isn't really a break in, he’s just visiting his girl. he will say though, you did make it a little too easy by keeping your key under the mat. no, you kept it easy because you knew he was coming, simple as that. 
he goes in tentatively at first, wanting to see what you’ve done with the place, nodding in approval as he scans over the rooms. you’ve done a good job, just like you did before, but he does frown when not a single one of his photos is up. you must have forgotten or maybe you’re trying to save your new boy toy some heartbreak. silently, he walks over to your bedroom door, peeking in.
his mouth quips up into a smile when he sees you. you’re pretty as you sleep, just like he remembers. you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, mouth slightly agape as your drool dribbled down into the pillow. 
“hey beautiful…” he murmurs when he reaches you, bending down to brush away a few strands of loose hair from your face. 
a little “mm,” leaves your lips as your face twists at his touch. he leans in til he’s just a hair’s breadth away, before he ghosts his lips over yours slightly. still the same old you, lips just as soft as he remembers and what little self restraint he had continues to chip away. 
the hot breath of exhales continue to mix as satoru spends his time taking in your scent. he tries his best not to whine when you pull away slightly, once again leaning further in to stay as close to you as possible. if he could get high off of it, he probably could, but the ache in his belly grows. he needs you. 
“wait a minute…” he mumbles when you try to once again turn away. “why are you always trying to run away from me?” it’s a silly question, rhetorical since you’re still locked in the deep throes of sleep. but your body seems to answer in place of your voice when your legs rub against the sheets and your chest once again heaves itself over, leaving him behind. 
he’s sad that you’ve taken away his favorite aromatic, but with your shuffling, you’ve moved the blankets down letting him get a peek of your bare skin. you’re always a sight to behold and his fingers run themselves lightly over your body before he’s pulling the blanket off you completely. 
you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, affectionately dubbed his “sleepy wife,” even though you were never married. it’s been a while since his hands burned with such intensity, running up and down your thigh and leg, even tracing along the curvature of your ass. 
his knee dips into the bed as he finally looms over you, pushing you gently onto your back, before he’s prying your thighs open with one hand. he thinks he should take his time, savor it, satoru, but you’re just so… inviting. he runs a finger across the waistband of your shorts, experimentally tugging lightly. he flickers his eyes between his hands and your face, seeking for any signs of waking as he slowly starts to expose more and more skin. 
hints and glimpses of skin are all he needs to get riled up, further than he already is, as he takes the leap and pulls your bottoms off completely. 
“oh fuck princess,” he groans when he sees your pretty pussy for the first time in months. he’s nearly salivating like a dog as he remembers just how good you taste, bending down to get perched between your thighs. 
the first kitten lick against your clit chips away at his already waning self control. the next one that delved between your folds nearly completely breaks it. but he’s missed tasting you on his buds, missed consuming what was his. take your time, satoru. his mind ticks again, and he settles back to prepare a nice lob of spit before he’s letting it fall onto your pussy. 
you shiver unconsciously at the sensation and he takes a pause, not wanting you to wake just yet. you’d probably flip out on him and he can’t have you getting mad at him just yet. 
he waits until you settle again before he’s diving back in, driving his tongue between your folds as he laps up your essence. to say he was starving was an understatement, for these past months he’s felt like he’s been dying. 
it’s intoxicating as your juices and his saliva mix to dribble down his chin, dripping onto your bed sheets below. he eats you out like it's his first real meal in months, tongue lapping as much of your essence as he can while his fingers dig deep into the plush skin of your thighs.
he shudders as he grinds his hips into your mattress, the tip of his nose running against your clit sending little shockwaves up your unconscious body. you taste just as good as he remembers, losing himself in the sweet slick of your cunt.
your eyelids finally flutter open, readjusting to the darkened light of your room, but you can't miss that familiar snowy peak of hair settled in between your thighs.
"satoru?" you breathe, meeting his lidded eyes as your hands come down to immediately push back against his forehead, but instead your fingers curl up into his locks. 
“hi,” he chimes, smiling against your pussy as he readjusts, sitting up to shoot you a wicked smile. “hi baby, good mornin’.” the tone ofhis voice is sweet, nearly identical to what it was like when you were together.
he replaces his tongue with his fingers, whining a little when he feels you clench down onto them as he starts to scissor you open. 
“what the fuck are you doing here?” you hiss, but your body jerks when he rubs against a particularly sweet spot of yours. 
“i missed you. i can’t visit?” he pouts, pressing a kiss against your clit before his tongue is laving over it again as if to make a point. “did you miss me?” he asks when your eyes roll back and you tug just a bit harder on his hair. 
“no.” you grit, but you can’t stop the way your hips buck up into him. 
“you’ve always been a bad liar, angel.” he shrugs, before he’s latching onto your cunt again.
he’s eaten you out more times than either of you can count, he knows exactly how to get you there. he knows it’s just a little bit more until you fall apart. he’s back on with even more fervor, alternating between sucking on your clit to sloppily and quickly flicking his tongue against it. 
“oh fuck,” you mewl, throwing your head back and thrashing as you come undone on his fingers, pussy fluttering and toes curling. 
“see, i knew you missed me.” he grins, as he brings his fingers up to suck at the slick around them. you’re still panting as you try to close your legs, but satoru’s fast, bringing his hands back down to tear them open. “ah ah ah,” he tuts, “we’re not done til i say so, got it?”  
“sa- gojo, you need to leave.” you plead, head heavy and stomach churning at what’s just happened. you fucked up but it’s fine, you can fix this still. 
“why?” he asks, “your boyfriend gonna come home?” fine, he’ll play your little game for now. he’ll antagonize you for a bit, before he’s disgustingly sweet again, just like the good ole days. but there’s also the anger brewing within him, why the fuck won’t you just come home? 
he smirks when you pause, already knowing the answer, “don’t tell me you two aren’t living together?” 
you shake your head, “that’s none of your business, gojo.” in hindsight, after satoru, you wanted to take things slowly the next time. moving in after only a month of dating probably wasn’t the best idea. 
“why not? i’ve got a right to know what you’re up to.” he pouts as he says it, hoping your irritation will ease up. 
you scoff, narrowing your eyes, “since when?” but your attitude is nothing more than a facade, always has been. “we’re not even together anymore-“ 
“since i decided, you’re mine.” he snaps, cutting you off and leaning down into you. “i decided that years ago by the way, and i’m not gonna let some fucking random mess with us.” 
you squeak as you hear him rustle with his pants, freeing his aching cock and you hate the way your stomach flip flops when you see it. it’s been so long since you’ve been fucked let alone touched. gojo was the last person to have you writhing underneath him and if you told him, he’d have even more of a need to keep it that way. 
your tough facade is breaking, you’re falling back into your hazy, mindless, and needy ways. you love satoru, even if the relationship was toxic, even if he gave you so little breathing room. but not yet, you won’t give in just yet. 
you try to scramble back further before you’re able to twist out of his hold for just a moment. but he grabs your hair by the root, twisting and pulling you back close to him and you yelp, clawing at his hand.
“baby, you’re really testing my patience.” he hisses into your ear, before he’s shoving you back down on the bed. “god, you know i hate being mean to you. just be good for once, yeah?” 
“gojo, leave.” you try one more time, but the hands that push up against him are so weak that he can tell your body’s betraying you. not only that, but your thighs shake at the pain in your scalp and you wish he would do it again. 
“i don’t think you want me to.” he states and you hate that he’s right. you don’t want him to leave, you want him to slide into you, filling you up. “or am i wrong?” he asks, looming over you, running his pretty cockhead through your folds. “go ahead, tell me to stop.” 
you bite your lip in an effort to not gasp out a pathetic moan, squeezing your eyes shut. each run against your clit has your legs widening, almost like you’re inviting him to come in. 
“knew it,” he quips, before he’s prodding at your entrance. your eyes fly open then, breathing heavily through your nose, but you don’t try to back off letting him glide in, inch by inch. “it’s cause you love me.” 
“i don’t,” you exhale as you watch his dick disappear within you, stretching you further than his fingers did. you’re nearly breathless when he finally bottoms out, fists balling into your sheets. 
“yes, you do,” he breathes, his own breathing jagged and rushed, almost like it’s being squeezed out of him. “you always have and always will.”
gojo satoru always fucks with your psyche, one of the many reasons you decided to leave him. it wasn’t obvious, not at first and neither was it nefarious. it was silly little item mix ups, funny conversations that seemed to follow satoru’s lead, until it was a loss of freedom, like a nightingale in a cage. 
huh? no, you’re meeting them next week… yeah, you told me last night. 
but that’s not- 
it is. check your phone. 
oh, i guess it… is? 
c’mon, would i lie to you princess? now you can hang out with me all day. 
and then suddenly it was all too clear when you did get that girl’s trip out, when your friends stared at you like you were fucking insane. it wasn’t normal at all that you couldn’t do a single thing without him. your friends helped you fit the pieces together and that was enough. you were going. 
leaving that day was easy, satoru hated seeing you upset and was more than willing to give you space when needed. it always went one way: you cool off, he swoops in and dresses up his words extra nicely to make you stay. but you didn’t this time. 
it was easier to leave all your things there as well instead of trying to leave in the middle of night. you thought you could do it, away from him you’d figure things out. 
but there must have been a part of you that still wanted him to chase after you, a divergent, rogue piece that strayed too far from the board. is that why you didn’t leave the city? still a part within satoru’s web of connected streets, just waiting until you were ensnared again. 
his eyes are still as pretty, his face almost too handsome, and voice just as alluring as before. you guess that’s what this is, a predator just waiting to stick his fangs into your neck.
“you’re insane,” you gasp out, holding onto your tiniest bit of strength. 
“aw, just for you.” he smiles, before he’s rolling his hips into yours, grinding in just the way you like, just as you remember. 
with each stutter of his hips, your walls twitch around his length and body jolts in waves of pleasure. soft gasps and moans tumble off your lips and satoru buries his face into your neck, nipping little marks into your skin, almost as if he’s etching one word into it: mine. 
it hits him almost instantly, this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he remembers that stupid little nuisance. he uses his hands to push up, still ramming into you as he takes a look at your face contorted in pleasure, as you peek up at him. 
“gojo?” you mumble, trying to take into account that look in his eye, but your head is bubbly with the pleasure he’s giving you. 
even with your walls clenching down around him with each roll of his hips, his anger seeps into him like water to a sponge as he tries to block out the idea that someone else was in what was his. that they probably saw this face that you’re making and got to hear your pretty little moans. 
“where’s your fucking phone?” he hisses, snatching it off the nightstand when he finds it, illuminated by the notifications of text messages from your “boyfriend.”
you whimper, trying to grab it, but satoru holds your hands together by the wrist, strategically keeping them against your chest so you can’t move up. 
“gojo, don’t!” you plead, snapping out of your trance for a moment, but the grip on your wrist tightens and you yelp. followed next is a glare, his gaze striking you right to the core. your words die off and he goes back to looking at your phone. it’s easy to unlock, you never changed the pass code. 
his eyes scan the texts quickly and frankly, it’s fucking disgusting to read this guy call you pet names that only satoru can say. he continues to scroll, trying his best to not dig his nails deep into your skin as he takes note of every heart emoji, flirtatious interaction, and pet name from your end. 
he keeps his breathing deep and even to keep himself from blowing his lid and he has half a mind to block his number to make sure you can’t speak to him again. but suddenly he’s got a better idea, getting back at him seemed so easy. 
you look so cute underneath him, pretty pussy enveloping his cock just like it was made to do, why not show it off? especially to someone that pissed him off. 
“hey baby, can you smile for me?” he says, voice sugary sweet as he opens your camera app, but you shake your head, trying to sink further into the pillow. you’re wary of the sudden personality change, especially when he finally releases your hands. 
he pouts, “c’mon now, you’re so pretty when you smile… please?” he sighs when you continue to refuse, but continues on, angling the camera til he’s satisfied with the image. 
“god, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” he says as he zooms onto your flushed face, hands coming up to hide it, before paneling back to record down your body. he stops when he reaches where both your hips are flush together, pussy sucking in his cock right to the brim. “fuck, would you look at that? i don’t even know your name man, but how fuckin’ pretty is this?” 
you gasp when you realize what he’s doing, but before you can say anything, you feel a hand come down onto your sensitive pussy. you yelp out but his hand comes down again and you're mortified when it sounds more like a moan. “bet you didn’t know she liked that,” he goads, “she also likes this.” he says, wrapping a hand around your jugular and giving a squeeze. 
your eyes roll back as the air escapes you, muddying your sight in little black dots. your hands fall to pull at his wrist, a moot effort considering the strength difference, and he laughs. a condescending flit of noise dripping in ego. “scratch that, she fucking loves that. hey, in my defense, i’m a little rusty, it’s been a while.” 
gojo has always been one of two things, needy and arrogant. but the worst was always when the two came together, usually in his worst fits of jealousy. he’s never recorded you before, always too eager to remember to set anything up before he’s pouncing on you.
but this satoru feels different, he feels scarier, nearly dangerous, although you shake off that fear til it’s nothing more than a fleeting thought. you liked this - no he was right, you loved this. before you broke up you were always begging satoru, just a little harder, just a little meaner, please.
with another heavy squeeze as the oxygen is once again cut off from you, you feel the walls around your heart finally crumbling completely, almost like a switch is flipped on. you can’t run from nor deny the heady need that was gojo satoru, the man that knew you in and out. you flutter your lashes at him, like you always did when you wanted to tell him something. he loosens his grip on your neck, just enough so that you can speak, “you wanna say somethin’, baby?” 
“u-use me,” you mumble, voice no louder than a whisper as your eyes start to leak that familiar pretty liquid that drives him insane. you’ve missed him, missed this - whatever the fuck it was, some messed up amalgamation dressed up under the guise of love. 
“hm?” he goads, a sick smile plastered on his face because you’re finally acting how you should. “a little louder for me, princess. i can’t hear you.” 
“use me!” you sob, trying to shift your hips to get some sort of stimulation, “please, satoru, please.” 
the use of his first name has him feeling like an actual god as he switches the camera back onto him. “you heard her.” he says with a wicked grin, before ending the video and pressing send. he tosses your phone to the side, “now where were we?” 
you whine when he shifts, one elbow propping him up as his hand once again finds it’s place against your neck. your own hand resumes it’s place as well, but instead of pulling this time you press, lashes heavy with tears as you wordlessly beg satoru to claim what’s his again. 
he’s so close to you now, his snowy hair tickles your forehead and his breath mixes with yours as he finally starts to move. you choke out a sob as he ever so slowly hits all the right places and you wonder how long you actually managed to make this far. 
“this is what you wanted isn’t it, baby?” he coos, being careful to not choke you for too long, even though you almost wish he’d fuck you passed out. “just needed a little reminder that i’m all you need right?” 
you nod, hiccuping with each thrust that knocks any air you have left out of your lungs. he’s right, just the two of you is all either of you need. you think the world is melting away as satoru presses kisses against your spit ridden lips, his own groans mixing in with yours as your tongues mesh together in sloppy, messy runs. 
“and now you’re gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you?” he picks up the pace, slamming in harder, rougher, like he’s proving a point. but he’s almost always right, with each kiss of his mushroom tip against your sweet spot pulsing pleasure throughout your body. “show me how much you love me.” 
“‘m close, toru,” you sniffle, nails digging into his arm as you blink away more tears, gasping up into his mouth. “‘m so close, please.” 
“i know.” he states, pressing his forehead against yours, sticky and sweat covered, as he gazes into your glassy, hazy eyes. “come on, cum for me princess. show me who you belong to.” 
there’s something so euphoric about satoru’s words, claiming every last bit of you, that you fall apart almost instantly. your orgasm hits you hard, rippling through you as your eyes and head both roll back, your pussy clenching down on his thick cock. 
“f-fuck! cumming, toru, i’m-“ you squeal, tears running down your face freely but satoru swallows up your moans, his lips once again sealing over yours, since those belong to him too. 
that’s enough for him, a firm affirmation that you love him, and he loses control of his once precise thrusts. he pistons into you, heavy balls slapping against your skin and pounding hard as if to leave marks all up your velvet walls. you milk out his own orgasm, walls fluttering and he detaches from your lips to growl out, “you’re all fucking mine, got it?” 
you chant out “yes,” as many times you can, still riding out your own orgasm as his cum paints your walls in white, til he finally slows back down to a stuttering close. he pants as he runs his hand up to rub his thumb over your tear-ridden cheek. 
“i love you.” he mumbles and you blink up at him sleepily meeting his pretty lidded blue eyes. it’s a stark contrast to the satoru just moments ago, pounding into you like his life depended on it. 
“love you too, toru.” you whisper, running a hand over his. your head and body feel heavy, yet your mind is still floating above the clouds. he’s probably oversensitive but you can’t care, knowing that your neck is prettier now that his fingerprints are littered on it. “toru… again.” 
he laughs when he feels you start to grind your hips, sticky slick and cum dripping from your hole. he feels like he’s on cloud nine hearing you beg for him after all this time. 
“please, please, toru,” you whine, craning your neck to brush sloppy, wet kisses across his lips and jawline. “i love you, so please.” 
“course, angel,” he mumbles in between kisses, “just gimme a few minutes and i’ll give you everything you want.” 
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allpiesforourown · 20 days
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OKAY SO I have way too many WIPs to write a role reversal fic and I meant to just yap about my au and ended up writing 2k words about it if you want to read it below...
oblivious shizun luo binghe / oblivious disciple shen yuan
First of all i've been reading a lot of role reversal fics lately but big shout out to ao3 user anqlbean for this fic because it really gave me "fuckboy shizun binghe, hiding that he's a demon lord" brain rot
Okay so anyway. In fair cang qiong sect where we lay our scene-
Luo Binghe is the Qing Jing peak lord. He’s also the heavenly emperor of the demon realm. No one knows both of his identities except for mobei jun and a handful of other people from his inner circle. It’s risky for a demon to hide as one of the cultivation world’s most prominent figures, but he likes having the best of both worlds!
Enter Shen Yuan: Shen Yuan's cultivation history is somewhat similar to Shen Jiu's in that he started cultivating late and joined Qing Jing well into his teens. He’s about 16 when he becomes Binghe’s student, but the thing is… Luo Binghe is kind of just the peak lord in name.
He spends his free time getting laid in the next town or going on an adventure with some hot demoness instead of giving classes. He’ll go on cultivation missions and take requests from villages and whatnot, but he doesn't bother teaching his disciples, just gives them a cultivation manual and tells them to figure it out. Half the time when students greet him on the peak he just nods because he doesnt even remember the disciple’s name. It’s fine though, once every few months he’ll take a break from all the one night stands and actually take a student along with him on a mission, just to keep the sect leader from complaining. “See, I teach my kids! Last month I took what’s-his-name on a night hunt!”
By the time Luo Binghe bothers to take Shen Yuan along for a mission, Shen Yuan is already 20 and has been on the peak for 4 years. Luo Binghe barely knows he exists, and he justs wants to collect this herb he was tasked with retrieving, send Shen Yuan back with it, and then get nasty with the woman back in the village who gave them directions to the cave that grows it. 
Unfortunately for Binghe, the cave is also home to one of the few flowers that can affect a demon lord. Binghe can’t move as he falls to the ground and hears his student yell “Shizun!” and run over.
They can hear monsters nearby so Shen Yuan’s two options are to 1) heal his shizun by taking advantage of Binghe's body or 2) abandon him to die and leave by himself. Binghe has experienced both multiple times, and is ready for either one. He's not ready for Shen Yuan to choose a third option that no one has ever chosen before: heaving Luo Binghe onto his back, transferring him qi, and using every bit of strength to carry him to safety. 
By the time they return to the cave’s entrance, Shen Yuan only has enough energy to use a talisman signalling the sect for help before they both pass out. 
When Luo Binghe wakes up, the Qian Cao peak lord is asking him how he feels while his head disciple is yelling at a sheepish Shen Yuan for doing something reckless again! Apparently this is not the first time Shen Yuan has exhausted himself for the sake of another person. 
Over the next few days, he can’t think of anything other than his student. 
(Also, he secretly feels kind of… angry??? Was his body so unappealing to Shen Yuan that he'd rather half-die than dual cultivate with him?? He's not sure why he's so pissed off by the idea, it's not like he's ever wanted to dual cultivate with a man before, but still…)
Finally he decides he has every right to be curious about shen yuan, that’s his disciple! Unfortunately while Binghe was ignoring Shen Yuan's existence for the past few years, his disciple has managed to build up… a reputation at Cang Qiong. 
Oh Shen Yuan selflessly saved Luo Binghe? Big deal, saving people is an average Tuesday for Shen Yuan, apparently! “He stopped my qi deviation” this, “he threw me out of a poisonous demon's way” that. 
For the first time ever, Luo Binghe is not special. If anything, he has less pull with Shen Yuan than anyone else at Cang Qiong, because everyone else knows Shen Yuan better. Luo Binghe doesn’t know Shen Yuan’s birthday, but the rest of his students make sure to throw Shen Yuan a party every year to thank him for all his tutoring. Binghe is SO far behind, which is a feeling he hasn’t felt in YEARS. 
About a month after the mission, he finally sees Shen Yuan sparring alone. Luo Binghe walks over, acting unbothered and nonchalant even though he's screaming internally. He greets his disciple and says, “This master has yet to properly thank Shen Yuan for his assistance at the cave… join me at the bamboo house tonight.” 
Shen Yuan apologizes, says he has important plans but would love to join him another night, then spends the rest of the day off the peak with the An Ding head disciple. 
Luo Binghe is flabbergasted. He's less important than an An Ding disciple???? Really??? Fucking An Ding????? 
After that, Luo Binghe……. He isn’t stalking Shen Yuan, despite what Liu Mingyan (Xian Su peak lord) might say with excited eyes. He’s just keeping an eye on this interesting disciple he never knew he had! In secret. 
He walks in on Qingge and Shen Yuan “sparring” and sees the exact moment Shen Yuan oversteps, loses his balance and goes tumbling on top of Liu Qingge. Binghe storms over, picks Shen Yuan up by the back of his robe like a cat, and physically separates the two of them. The two disciples gawk at how weird that was and he has no idea how to come up with an excuse for whatever the hell that just was. 
Instead he asks what they’re doing. 
Shen Yuan, being polite and answering the question: Liu-shidi and I are heading on a mission soon-
Luo Binghe: this master shall join you.
Shen Yuan: uh… it's a very simple request, two disciples are more than en-
Luo Binghe: this. Master. Shall. Join. You.
Liu Qingge: ???? What the hell is his problem 
Shen Yuan: Okay… this disciple is grateful for shizun’s assistance…?
Their flight to the village is dead quiet. 
The townspeople sigh theyre so glad they’re here, some demonic creature has been destroying their wildlife! This area makes most of their money with lumber exports, so if the creature continues to destroy their trees, it’ll result in huge losses. 
When they find the demon, Shen Yuan starts yapping non stop. It’s like he’s suddenly transformed into a textbook, explaining that this little beaver-esque demon needs to chew up trees for its survival. Luo Binghe is bored out of his mind and pulls out his sword. 
Shen Yuan gaps and picks up the small creature, holding it protectively against his chest. “This species isn’t even violent! We can’t kill it!” 
Luo Binghe crosses his arms and says they have to complete this commission somehow. Shen Yuan argues they can simply relocate the demon somewhere else! Luo Binghe expects Liu Qingge to complain or brutishly try to kill it, but he shrugs and says he’ll follow Shen Yuan. Apparently this happens regularly…
By the time they rehome the creature somewhere it won’t be a bother, it’s too late to fly back to the sect.
The only close by inn apologizes and says they only have two rooms left, and each one is a single bed. They can have a mat sent up, but…
Binghe says he should room with Shen Yuan because they’re both from Qing Jing, and (he glares at Liu Qingge as he says this) Liu Qingge is an outsider. Liu Qingge narrows his eyes and says it would be inappropriate for a peak lord to share a room with a lowly disciple, so he should room with Shen Yuan. 
Shen Yuan cheerfully chimes in that he and Liu-shidi sleep together all the time! “Whenever shidi and I camp outdoors, he says he prefers sleeping on the ground. He’ll be happy to take the mat.”
Luo Binghe's smile becomes a little forced, but shen Yuan doesn't even notice the murderous intent rolling off his shizun, aimed at his friend from Bai Zhan. 
In the end, Shen Yuan gets one room, and Liu Qingge gets the other. Luo Binghe insists his cultivation is high enough he doesn’t need to sleep, and had no intention to sleep tonight anyway.
This is a perfect time to go and find a brothel or a hookup. He realizes this is the longest he’s gone without sex in a long time, all because he’s been obsessed with Shen Yuan so much lately. But he’s got too much on his mind to do that tonight… He’s still thinking of the loving way Shen Yuan protected that small helpless demon, going as far as defying a peak lord for its sake.
Shen Yuan is… someone with shockingly good character. Despite being surrounded by cultivators, meeting people who are good is surprisingly rare. He doesn’t want his sweet disciple to have that lovely sense of justice stolen away from him by… gross perverts like Liu Qingge lusting after him! 
(He’s not projecting!)
He’s already neglected Shen Yuan as a shizun for so many years. Now he has to step and make up for all that time! He’s decided what he has to do. 
First thing in the morning, he knocks on Shen Yuan’s door. He hears a sweet ‘Come in!’ from inside and for some reason he feels… really nervous. Inside, Shen Yuan is sitting on his bed, brushing his hair, and he smiles when he looks up and sees Luo Binghe. “Good morning, shizun.”
Good morning??? How can he say something so casually, without a hint of shame, looking like that?? He’s wearing nothing but one layer that’s not even thick enough to hide his body! He can see Shen Yuan’s milky thighs and small chest!!!! What the fuck!?
(Is this how he walks around the shared dorms on Qing Jing? Do all the other disciples see the outline of his body through his thin layer every morning?? The longer he stares, the more he tells himself he’s making the right decision by doing this.)
He cuts right to the chase. “Once we return, Shen Yuan shall move his belongings into the bamboo house. This lord will teach him all there is to know about being Qing Jing’s head disciple.” He makes it clear that this is a statement, not a request – he’s not giving Shen Yuan a choice. 
Shen Yuan gawks at him, and Luo Binghe says they’ll discuss things more in detail once they return to Qing Jing, but from this moment on, he represents himself as Luo Binghe’s head disciple. It takes Shen Yuan a few minutes to really comprehend what’s going on, but eventually he bows in thanks and throws on another, thicker layer. Shen Yuan moves for the door and says, “I better tell Liu-shidi-”
Luo Binghe’s hand moves before he can stop himself, and they’re both surprised by the deathly tight grip he has on Shen Yuan’s wrist. 
Luo Binghe clears his throat and lets go. “You should let him be. Sometimes if you spend too much time with a person, it can become off-putting.” There, surely that will keep Shen Yuan away from that brute, right?
Shen Yuan says, “Ohhh,” and then smiles. “Don't worry shizun,” he says gently, “This disciple understands what you're saying. Once I move into the bamboo house, I'll make sure to give shizun his space.” 
Then Shen Yuan walks away and closes the door behind him. Luo Binghe can hear Shen Yuan telling Liu Qingge the good news, “I don’t know if shizun is joking or not, but wouldn’t it be nice for us to do our head disciple work together?” 
Luo Binghe realizes that Shen Yuan is going to RUIN him, and he’ll do it without even realizing. 
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ruh--roh-raggy · 10 months
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This (William Afton x Fem! Reader SMUT)
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Hello! Wow, I can honestly say I wasn't expecting that big of a response on my first fic so thank all of you so much!! I've got brain rot real bad about this man, so expect a lot of fics for him. Now, onto the fun part. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! ADULT CONTENT AHEAD, 18+ FIC AHEAD, MDNI, age gap (reader is in college, William is in his 40's/50's), jealous William, hinted that he killed your terrible coworker if you squint, thigh riding, unprotected sex, pnv sex, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, some spanking but it's nothing too intense, size difference (I just love me a big man what can I say?), cock warming, Reader is 5'0/152cm because that's how tall I am, whoops) dom William, slight degradation, definite praise, pining, domestic!William, OOC William, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, use of pet names sweetheart, honey, pretty little thing, bunny (I think that's everything, please let me know if I forgot any tags!)
Word count: 8,058
You can find my Masterlist here!
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You tapped softly on your boss’s half open door. You heard him finish up a phone call, the receiver clicking as he hung up. “Come on in.” He calls cheerfully. You push open the door, his gaze softening as it landed on you.
“Mr. Afton, can I talk to you really quick?” You ask nervously, anxiously tracing over the cold brass doorknob with your finger.
“Of course you can. Shut the door, come on in.” You do as he says, you swallow thickly as the door clicks shut behind you. You sat in one of the stiff pizzaria chairs he had at his desk, the once vibrant clumps of geometric shapes beginning to fade with age. “What can I do for you sweetheart?” He folds his hands in front of him as he shoots you a small smile. You always found yourself growing flustered under his gaze, your eyes darted to the nameplate that sat on his desk, tracing over the neat gold letters as you tried to steady your pounding heart.
“I was just wondering if you could stop scheduling me with Kyle?” You mutter, cursing internally at how stupid your request sounded.
“What happened? He didn't hurt you, did he?” The sudden flash of anger in his voice was unmistakable.
“No, nothing like that. It just feels like he always goes out of his way to give me the worst jobs. A kid throws up in the ball pit, I have to clean it up. A parent gets too drunk and trashes a table, I'm the one on my hands and knees making sure there's no fragments of glass still stuck in the carpet. I know this probably sounds ridiculous, I'm not trying to start problems-”
“(Y/N).” His gentle tone makes you freeze. Your eyes drift up to meet his. He reaches across his desk, holding his hand out for you. You tentatively slip your hand into his, your breath shaky as you watch him trail his thumb over your knuckles. His skin was so warm, you looked so small and delicate compared to him. “I'll deal with Kyle, okay? You're too pretty to be doing those jobs anyways.” You can't help but blush as he winks at you. He stands up, his height allowing him to tower over you as he walks you to the door, his hand on the small of your back. “Have a good night sweetheart, I'll see you tomorrow.” He smiles down at you.
“Goodnight, Mr. Afton.” You smile coyly at him as you turn to leave. He leans against the door way, his arms crossing over his chest as he scans over the pizzeria.
“Kyle!” He barks. “Come see me at the end of your shift bud, we need to have a little chat.” You couldn't keep the smile off your face as you pushed out of the building.
When you came back the next day you expected to see Kyle seething with rage over whatever punishment Mr. Afton had dished out, but he was nowhere to be found. You wandered back towards your boss’ office, wanting to let him know you had arrived to start opening. “There's my favorite girl.” He grins as you poke your head through the doorway. “Come sit, I took care of opening prep, you relax.” He nods in the direction of one of the chairs across from him. He never takes his eyes off of you as you sit rigidly in the seat. “You look tired, would you like some coffee?”
“Oh, you don't have to trouble yourself.” He attempts to wave you off, both of your actions cut short by the sound of your stomach rumbling. “Excuse me.” You look away awkwardly.
“I guess something a little more substantial than coffee is in order here.” He stands, motioning for you to follow him. You trail behind him as he leads you into the kitchen, the smell of the greasy premade pepperoni pizza baking in the oven practically making your mouth water. He grabs the wooden peel, expertly flicking the pizza onto it and retrieving it from the industrial sized oven. “So you haven't eaten and you look exhausted.” You cringed slightly as you waited for him to chastise you, knowing how bad it looked that you weren't showing up to your job with your best foot forward. He sets the pizza on a metal tray, leaving it to cool as his focus directs itself onto you. He takes a few long, agonizingly slow strides towards you. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?” You found yourself immediately growing flustered at the sound of the familiar pet name. Mr. Afton had been using the endearment since you had started, yet hearing it roll so effortlessly off of his tongue never failed to make your cheeks grow warm and arousal to pool between your legs.
“Yeah, it's stupid.” You try to brush your earlier problems of the day away, not wanting to bring attention to what you believed would come off as a childish reason to be upset. Seeing the concerned looks in your boss’ eyes prompted you to continue. “I got into a fight with my roommate today and I ran out of time to eat because we were arguing. I'm sorry-”
“Sweetheart, you don't have to apologize.” A shiver ran down your spine at the sound of his voice. “I'm worried, not upset.” His shoes enter your line of sight, which was currently trained on the floor, as he steps in front of you. A set of warm fingers ghost over the skin of your cheek, pushing back a stray tendril of hair that had fallen out of your messy attempt at tying it back. You slowly meet his hazy green eyes, a patient smile adorning his lips as he waits for his words to settle. You gave him a small nod in response. You walk out onto the main floor of the pizzeria, the eyes of the four life sized animatronics seeming to follow your every move. Although you had grown used to the sight of the vibrantly colored animals, there was something about them that still unnerved you. “Who's your favorite?” You jump slightly when Mr. Afton suddenly speaks up. You breathe out a laugh as you turn to face him.
“Bonnie,” his face lights up at your immediate answer, “I've always liked rabbits.” You join him in the small booth, he eyes you carefully as he serves you a piece of pizza on a napkin. “Thank you for the pizza, Mr. Afton.”
“William.” He corrects with a small smile. “There's no need to be so stiff outside of work hours, doll.”
You can't help but giggle at his playful tone. “Well, thank you for the pizza, William.” He straightens up slightly at the sound of you saying his name. You were honestly a bit surprised to say that you were having a good time. William was charismatic, funny, a little awkward but in a way that came off as endearing. You stood side by side with him in the kitchen, working in tandem to clean up the dishes you made from your impromptu lunch date. You kept finding your eyes drifting over to him, the sight of his sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, his muscular forearms flexing as he twisted a rag inside of a cup. You swallowed thickly, quickly tearing your eyes away from him and back to the metal pizza pan.
“Right behind you, sweetheart.” William groans as he reaches around you to grab a dry rag. Your heart pounded in your chest as he leaned into you. You feel his arm brush against your back and you dared to look over at him considering that you might never get the chance to be so close to him again, your little secret crush on your boss refused to let you miss that opportunity. You let out a small, startled squeak as you found him already looking at you. Everything about him seemed to only drag you in deeper as you got caught up in his gaze. The deep, musky smell of his cologne, his mossy green eyes holding you firmly in place. His arm wraps around your waist, your hands flying to his chest as he pulls you into him, his lips crashing against yours. It took a moment for your mind to catch up with what was happening to your body. Your eyes fluttered shut, the warmth of being pressed tightly to him seeping into you as you let yourself give in to what you truly wanted. Your hands slid over the soft fabric of his shirt, your fingers just barely grazing over his collar to pull him closer when the main door to the pizzeria slammed open and the excited voices of your coworkers filed in. You startled apart, Williams eyes immediately averting to the floor as a look of shame rapidly spreads across his features. He mutters out a hurried apology as he pushes past you, through the kitchen doors, and directly into his office. You saw your friend Ashley jump as the door slammed behind him, eventually seeing you standing alone in the kitchen as your face dropped into your hands. You had no reason to be but you felt embarrassed. Your whole face burned as the moment replayed itself over and over in your head.
“What the hell was all of that?” Ashley exclaims in a hushed tone as she enters the kitchen.
“Nothing!” You turn to the sink, pretending to wash your hands as an excuse to not have to look at her. “Mr. Afton had an important call to take.” She eyes you curiously, knowing you weren't being honest with her. You felt sweat begin to bead at your temple under her scrutinizing gaze.
“Fine, keep your secrets.” She huffs playfully as she crosses her arms over her chest. She quickly closes the gap in between you, “but if you're fucking the boss and you're not telling me I'm going to be so mad.” You knew it was a joke but you were still a bit on edge from the earlier ordeal.
“Keep your voice down!” You snap, quickly looking over at his office door to see that it was, thankfully, still shut. She gasps, your nervous body language giving you away.
“Tell me everything.” She grabs you by the shoulders, forcing your attention back on her. “Is he good? Is he… y'know?” Her eyes flashing down to your crotch and back up. “Is he big?”
“Ashley!” You attempt to shush her again. “I'm not sleeping with Will-Mr. Afton.” You hurried to try and correct yourself, but your little slip up only added more fuel to the fire.
“Were you about to call him William?” She grills you, a wide, excited smile taking over her face. “Do you guys have pet names for each other? I hear him call you sweetheart all the time but I thought that was just because you're his favor-” You clamp a hand over her mouth, it was the only way you could think of to get her quiet.
“Just hang on,” you wait to see if she was actually done talking before pulling your hand away. “I came in early to open. I was supposed to be working with Kyle but he never showed. I think Mr. Afton might have fired him.”
“Did you finally go talk to him about that creep?” She asks as she leans up against the counter. You nod in response, “good, he was making your life a living hell here. Continue…” she prompts with a wave of her hand.
“I walk over to his office just to let him know that I'm here and he tells me that everything's already done-that’s not the important part.” You took a deep breath to steady yourself before telling her what had gotten you so frazzled. “He was helping me clean some dishes and he reached around me for the towel, so what was I supposed to do? Not look?” Ashley chuckles, being the one person who knew about your crush she understood how impossible that would have been for you. “I looked over at him and he was already looking at me and then he kissed me and then you guys came in-”
“Hold on. Pause.” She holds up her hands to get you to halt your recap. “He kissed you?” You nod, but before you had time to continue one of your coworkers kicked open the double doors to the kitchen.
“Alright ladies, I hate to interrupt, but I got some pizza to make.” He groans through his forced smile.
“We’ll talk about this later.” She whispers hurriedly as she ties her apron around her waist. You nod, copying her motions as you prepare to open for the day. Throughout your shift you kept thinking about the kiss. Did it mean something or was it just an impulse? Did William somehow know about your crush on him? You stood at the side of the pizzeria, unable to keep the smile off of your face as you watched him take a picture with an excited child. You found your mind wandering again, the delighted scream, pings, and whirrs of the room around you seemed to almost fade away. You could still feel his arm wrapped around your waist, how strong his broad chest was under the palms of your hands. You snapped yourself from your daydream, the glowing white eyes of the Spring Bonnie suit studying you carefully. You straightened up, hurrying off to the kitchen so you wouldn't be seen slacking. By the end of the night you had just about driven yourself crazy with questions. Questions you were determined to get answers to. You said goodbye to your coworkers, promising Ashley that you would catch her up when you were able to. You walk up to your boss’ door, a determined look etched into your features. You raised your fist, freezing just before knocking. Why was this so hard? He kissed you! If anything you should be furious! He had completely ambushed you out of nowhere and you had spent the whole day walking around in a fog because of it. But, part of you was worried about what his answer might be. It was easy to hide your feelings from him up until now; glances that lasted a little too long, walking a little too close to him so your fingers could brush his, it could all be passed off as if it were nothing. Now, you were standing in front of his door ready to charge in there to demand an explanation for the kiss not because you were upset with him… but because you were hopeful about what the implications of what that kiss could mean. Before you had the chance to decide for yourself what you were going to do the door opened. William froze at the sight of you standing on the other side. He sighs, raking a hand through his already messy hair.
“(Y/N), I'm sorry about earlier, I don't know what came over me.” Your heart cracked slightly at his apology. So, it really was just an impulse. “Can we… Can we talk about this? I think it might be better for both of us to get it all out in the open.” You were struggling to fight against the tears blurring your vision.
“I think I'm just going to go home, Mr. Afton.” You grimaced at the sound of your voice shaking.
“Sweetheart, I can't let you drive like that.” He carefully wipes away a tear that had slipped onto your cheek. Your lip quivered at the sound of his pet name for you, a soft sob breaking free from your chest as you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. William quickly pulls you into his arms, letting you hide against him. “That's it, let it out.” He says as he soothingly rubs your back. Your arms finally slid around his torso, he rocked you back and forth slightly as he waited for you to calm down. You sniffle as you pull back from him, his warm hand cupping your cheek. “You're even pretty when you cry.” He muses. Your cheeks flushed at the compliment. You allow him to wipe away any remaining trails of tears, realizing after avoiding each other all day that you missed being close to him.
“William,” your voice was a hoarse croak as you spoke. You place a hand over the one he has resting on your cheek. “I want to kiss you again… please.” His eyes widened slightly at the request. But, once he let your words sink in, he wasted no time granting your request. You stumbled back slightly as he kissed you passionately. You grab onto his collar, keeping him flush against you as you reveled in the sensation. One of his hands slaps haphazardly against the doorway as he guides the two of you inside, roughly kicking the door shut before slamming your back against it. He takes your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head in one swift movement. You whimpered softly as he pulled away from you, despite your desperate need to breathe you felt like you would die without his lips on yours. You had to look almost straight up in order to meet his eyes, a wild and hungry look dominating his gaze. He breathes out a chuckle at the sight of you, the look you gave him so full of need it nearly brought him to his knees.
“Such a pretty little thing you are, sweetheart.” He slowly swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, the flesh tender and swollen for the one mind numbing kiss he had granted you. “I can't tell you how long I've wanted you.” You whine as you feel his leg push in between your own. You were forced up onto your toes, struggling to contain the soft moan that bubbles up in your throat at the delicious pressure against your clit.
“Enlighten me.” You challenge, earning a deep, rumbling laugh from him.
“Surely, you must've known.” His head dips into the crook of your neck, biting you hard enough that you knew he would leave a mark behind. “I see you everyday; the way those tight little jeans mold to your ass, how your shirt is always pulled down just low enough to tease me…” you see the briefest look of jealousy flash through his eyes. “How those immature, snotty little college boys are constantly throwing themselves at you.” He pushes into you, his lips staying just out of reach as he keeps you pinned in place. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, he smirked as he felt you squirming against his thigh. “What's the matter sweetheart?” He asks sardonically. You were having trouble thinking straight. Every time you let your full weight sink into him it only made you need his touch more, his hot breath fanning over your lips made your whole body ache for him. “I think you know that no one could take care of you like I could, don't you?” You nod in response, your breathing growing noticeably quicker as he questioned you. His forehead comes to rest against yours, his dull green eyes searching your features for any sign of hesitation. “Well then how about I give you a night you'll never forget?” He smiles sharply at you.
In one sweep of his arm his entire desk is cleared off. Paperclips scatter across the floor alongside papers and whatever other trinkets decorated the wood surface. He grabs your hips and pulls you roughly to him, his lips ferociously meeting yours in a kiss that knocked all the air from your lungs. Your initial fight for dominance over the kiss was very short lived. If anything, William found your defiance rather cute. He growls against your lips, a sound that has your knees threatening to buckle. His hands slide from your hips down to your ass, groaning as he gives it a firm squeeze. You squeak as he easily lifts you from the floor, guiding your legs around his waist as he sets you on his desk. He fumbles blindly with the button of your jeans, eventually being able to start working then down your legs. “I can't wait to fucking ruin you.” He presses a hand flat against your chest, pushing you back onto his desk. You struggle not to blush, turning away from him so he hopefully wouldn't notice. Your fingernails dig into wood as he teases at your entrance with his fingers. “Such a cute little bunny.” He smirks. “Already so wet for me and I haven't even touched you yet.” He takes your chin between his fingers, turning you to look at him. “Look at me sweetheart, I wanna see those pretty eyes when I fuck you senseless.” His hand dips under the hem of your shirt, his large, warm hand roaming your bare torso as you lay compliantly before him. He roughly grabs your jaw, watching your expression carefully as he eases his fingers into you at an agonizingly slow pace. A strangled gasp breaks free from your throat as his digits bottom out in you, your gummy walls clenching around them.
He chuckles as you roll your hips, searching desperately for any type of relief. He begins to rock his fingers inside of you in time with your movements, taking his time to fully stretch you out in preparation for what was to come. As he gradually increased his pace the louder your moans became. You gripped tightly onto the arm that had moved from your jaw to the desk next to your head, your nails digging little crescent divots into his skin. “You look so fucking pretty like this.” He looks over you, drinking in the way your body writhed from his touch.
“William.” You whimper his name.
“What is it, bunny?” He coos. “What does my needy girl want, hm?”
“Want… want to touch you.” Your words came out slurred as you fought through your moans and the mind numbing pleasure he was inflicting on you.
He tuts at your demand, giving you a disappointed pout. “Poor thing, you want to touch me?” You nod furiously. He fingers thread into your hair, giving the strands a rough tug to ensure that your eyes are on his. “Ask nicely and maybe I'll let you.”
“Please.” Your wide innocent eyes pricked with tears as you gazed up at him longingly. He hummed, pondering over your pathetic state as he continued to slowly rock his fingers inside of you. “William, please, please let me touch you. I want… I need you.” Your begging came cracking out in a sob, tears sliding down your face as you grew more desperate to get your hands on him. William chuckles at the sight of you.
“Such a needy little thing” He smirks. He lets the request hang in the air for a moment, the only sound filling the room was the squelching of your arousal in his hand as he fingered you. His lips land on your pulse, causing you to shiver. He takes your wrist in his massive hand, guiding it to the top button of his dress shirt, giving you permission to start undressing him. Your fingers shook as you worked at the fastenings, Williams pace never slowing making it difficult for you to focus on the task at hand. Your struggling was going to be well rewarded. Once you had undone the final button on his shirt, William grabbed you roughly by the collar, hauling you to a sitting position so you were now sitting face to face with him. You whined at the sudden emptiness of him removing his fingers, but your annoyance was short lived. You pushed the dress shirt from his shoulders, William making quick work of discarding his undershirt into an empty chair in the room. You just about drooled at the sight of him. His broad shoulders and strong arms from years of working on machines in his shop flexed and shifted under the dim office lighting. You couldn't tear your eyes off of him as he started loosening his belt. You blush as he chuckles, realizing you had been caught staring. “Like something you see, sweetheart?” He asks in an amused tone. He prowls over to you, the buckle of his belt jangling as it hangs limply as his side, his pants falling low on his hips.
You bite your lip, reaching out for him once he’s close enough. You wrap your legs around his waist, fingers threading into his hair as his lips crash into yours. You run a hand over his chest, the thick carpet of coarse hair tickling your palm. In one swift movement your shirt is pushed over your head, your breasts bouncing slightly as they fall back into place after the disruption. William admired the soft lace that complimented your skin. His hands slide over your waist and up your back until he reaches the clasp of your bra. He fumbles with it a few times until the tension of the elastic finally relaxes. He takes his time removing your final article of clothing. The straps are eased off your shoulders one at a time, his beard ticking your bare skin as he places delicate kisses anywhere he could reach. Goosebumps spread across your chest as the fabric is finally fully removed, William’s eyes drifting down to get a full view of your perfect form. He lets out a primal growl at the sight before his lips latch into yours again. His fingers dig into your hips, dragging you to the very edge of his desk in order to line his cock up with your entrance. You moan into his mouth as he sheathes himself full inside you in one hard thrust. Your breath comes out in long, shaky exhales as you struggle to adjust to his size. Even with the prep from his fingers he still stretches you to a point that makes you feel like you're about to rip in half. William was a lot bigger and thicker than any guy you had been with previously. You already felt drunk just from the sensation of him bottoming out in you. “Eyes on me, bunny.” He whispers in a gentle tone. Your eyes flutter open, you hadn't realized you had even shut them to begin with, meeting his hazy green ones. You cry out as he gives you a single sharp thrust, a mixture of pain and pleasure burning white hot through your body as you struggle to take all of him. He lets out a satisfied hum as he studies your fucked out expression. “Already cock drunk, hm?” He chuckles, resting his forehead against yours to keep your attention on him. With every snap of his hips it brought you closer and closer to your climax, your moans impossibly loud in the small, cramped office. “You wanted this all along, didn't you sweetheart? You knew those stupid little boys could never make you feel like this.” He snarls. “Now, here you are, about to cum on my cock.” Drool had started to leak out of the corner of your mouth as you struggled to keep your eyes on his. He dips a hand between your legs, rubbing fast circles on your clit.
“William!” You moan out his name, his free arm wrapping securely around you to hold you tightly against him.
“Such a dirty girl, fucking someone nearly twice your age.” He chuckles cruelly, his eyes darken as they meet yours through your haze. “Pathetic.” Degrading you like that seemed to unleash something primal in him. His thrusts somehow managed to get faster and more brutal. You screamed as your orgasm ripped through you, desperately crying out his name as you clawed against his back. His hands wrap under your thighs, lifting you from the desk slightly in order to get better leverage. “Fuck.” He groans, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he approaches his end. He kisses you hard as he finishes, hot ropes of his cum coating your walls. You both stayed locked in your embrace for a moment, waiting for your breathing to calm down. You wince as he pulls out of you, a slight sting as your absurd cunt attempts to clamp around nothing. He looks around the room for something to clean you up with, deciding on his shirt when nothing else seemed plausible. He gingerly reaches in between your legs, a softness and hesitancy you didn't expect after the evenings most recent events. You let out a soft hiss at the slight bit of pain you felt as he cleaned you up. He soothingly caresses your thigh with his free hands, shooting you an apologetic look from his position situated in between your legs. You studied him for a moment, his gaze distant, and hazy as it trailed to the floor.
“William.” Your soft voice drifted over his ears, bringing his attention back to you. You adjusted your position so you could sit up. “Come here.” He stands, even sitting on his desk he still towered over you. You wrapped your arms around him, resting your chin on his soft stomach. You trail your hands over his back, his skin slightly sticky with sweat.
“I’m sorry if I took things too far-”
“You didn’t.” His gruff voice was cut off with your quiet reassurance. “You were amazing.” You give him a coy smile before pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. A small smile breaks out on his face as he chuckles at your glimmering expression.
“Come on bunny, let’s get you dressed.” He combs his fingers through your hair, “although I will never get tired of looking at your beautiful body.” He winks causing you to blush, you lightly slap his chest. He places a kiss on your forehead before collecting your clothes. You feel eyes on you as you’re getting dressed, you can’t help but smirk when you look over your shoulder so see William staring at your ass. You make a show of stepping into your panties, adjusting them so they are perfectly in place before shimmying into your jeans. William was practically drooling as he watched your supple flesh jiggle as you worked yourself into the tight clothing. You place one final kiss to his burly chest before he slips his undershirt back over his head. He trails a finger over your jaw. “I was hoping we could make this a more than one time thing… Maybe I can take you out to dinner after work some night?” He asks with a charming, lopsided smile.
“I’d really like that William.” You push yourself up on your toes, having him meet you halfway to place a chaste kiss to your lips. “Goodnight.” You whisper with a smile.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He breathes out a laugh as you both slowly pull away. You grab your jacket and bag from the employee locker room, giving William one small wave as you pass by his office on your way out. You fell into your driver seat with a groan, sticking your keys in the ignition, your heart still pounding in your chest. You turned the key expecting your engine to rumble to life, but your car refused to start. You tried again and again, falling against the steering wheel with an aggravated sigh. You kicked open the door and trudged back inside. William gave you a confused look as you walked back up to his door. “Everything alright?”
You grew embarrassed over the fact you had to ask. You never had anyone who was able to teach you about cars, you wouldn’t know the first thing about trying to find the problem yourself. “My car won’t start. I hate to ask, but could you come look at it?”
“Of course, honey. I’ll take care of it.” Your heart flutters in your chest at him taking charge of the situation. You definitely could get used to having him around, there was something about his unwavering confidence that made you long for him even more. You follow him back outside, watching him carefully as he examines your engine, a massive black flashlight held tightly in his hand. “I see the problem.” He groans as he reaches to point something out to you. “You need a new timing belt.” He points out the problem, excitedly going through the mechanics as you listened attentively. “You can leave your car here, I’ll pick you up a new one tomorrow.” He stuffs his hand in his pocket. He twirls his keys around his pointer finger. “Let me just go lock the door and I’ll drive you home.” You nod, growing giddy over the fact you would get to spend more time with him. He wraps his arm around your shoulders as he leads you around back to his car. You slide stiffly into his passenger seat. The inside of his car was pristine, some vintage model muscle car you didn’t know the name of. William’s hand envelops your thigh as he drives, ever so often giving the soft skin a gentle squeeze as you direct him to your off campus apartment. You lived in the not so great part of town, even outside of Hurricane standards. Shootings, stabbings, human trafficking, all of it had happened somewhere in your neighborhood. You noticed William’s expression grow more concerned as you drove. You eventually pulled up in front of your building, a rickety looking triple decker that looked like it would collapse from a slightly too strong gust of wind.
“Well this is me.” You state softly with a slight shrug of your shoulders. William sighed as he stared up at your building.
“You live here by yourself?” He glances at you in the passenger seat as he asks. You nod in response. “Bunny, would you like to come spend the night at my house. It’s dangerous for a girl like you to be by herself out here.”
“Spend the night with you?” You repeat his request back to him, he nods slowly, worried he crossed a line. “If you’re offering, I'm definitely not going to say no.” You lean across the cab of the car, pressing a kiss to his cheek. The drive back to his house was spent mostly in silence, every so often his hand would drift from your thigh to bringing your knuckles to his lips. You left the main part of town, the houses you passed becoming few and far between as the sides of the road were taken over by tall fir trees. You pulled up in front of a cozy looking house, the outside paint faded from years of abuse from the harsh Utah weather.
“Home sweet home.” Me mumbles with a lopsided grin. You trail closely behind him as you walk up to the door, jumping at every snapping twig and animal scurrying through the brush. “There’s nothing to be scared of sweetheart, I’ll keep you safe.” He smiles down at you, keeping you tucked into his side as he unlocks the door. He gently nudges you inside first, following closely behind you. The second the door clicks shut William’s lips are on yours again, a flustered sigh escaping you as you melted into him. “I’m going to get dinner started.” He mumbles against your lips.
“Would you like some help?” He nods, motioning for you to follow him to the kitchen.
“I would love some.” He grins at you. The two of you worked side by side to prepare dinner, every so often you would catch William stealing glances at you out of the corner of your eye. “Honey.” He suddenly speaks up, you turn to face him only for him to pull you into a kiss. “You just sit here and look pretty, I’ll finish this up.” His large hands wrap around your waist, he lifts you from the floor and sets you on the counter with ease. He hums as he works beside you, easily recreating his recipe from memory. Always keeping you on your toes, he was making homemade tomato soup and grilled cheese. He takes quick pauses, caging you in between his arms on the counter as he gives you rushed kisses that leave your head spinning. He holds out his hand for you, a gesture you gladly accept. He helps you down from the counter, balancing your plates and bowls on his arm. You sit across from each other at the small dining room table. “So what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a shit hole like this?” He asks with a chuckle.
“Unfortunately this shit hole has one of the best colleges in the state.” You respond with a laugh of your own.
“What’s your major?”
“Mechanical engineering.” You respond the moment he finishes his question. He looked very perplexed by your answer.
“What made you want to take that up?” He leaned forward, completely focused on you alone.
“Well, honestly, you did.” You blush a bit as you respond. “The animatronics you make are phenomenal. I hope one day I can be half as talented as you are.” He looks away bashfully, not used to such direct flattery.
“Maybe I can have you help out in the workshop sometime.” He offers with an excited glint in his eyes.
“If it means spending more time with you I would love to.” You shoot him a flirtatious smile. You find yourselves drifting closer together as you clean up after dinner. You gathered up your plates, standing on your toes to try and put them in the cabinet with the rest. You let out a frustrated sigh as you struggled to reach. The warmth of William’s body pressing into yours from behind made you freeze.
“I got it sweetheart.” He chuckles, taking the plates from your hands. “Such a cute little thing you are.” He whispers next to your ear making you shiver. You squeal as he lifts you from the floor, taking you in his arms as he carries you upstairs. He tosses you onto the bed, stripping out of his clothes with a groan, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. You can’t help but smirk slightly as you grab him by the wrist and pull him in to kiss you. “Strip, I wanna hold you.” He commands. You decide to give him a little show, taking your time to peel out of your jeans, swaying your hips as you pull your top over your head. You stripped out of your lingerie before straddling his lap. His hands knead your ass, rocking you gently against the already half hard erection in his boxers. He pulls you into bed, shutting off the lights before joining you himself. He slings an arm over your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest. You bite your lip, shifting your hips as you feel his cock press into your back. The moon cast in through the window, basking the room in a dull silver glow. You hear William’s breath catch in his throat as you press your ass into his throbbing member. “Someone’s needy.” He chuckles, his breath hot against his ear. “What’s the matter bunny, need me to fill you up?” You nod, letting out a soft whine as you push back into him again. He places a kiss just below your ear, spreading your legs with his hand as he lines himself up with your entrance. You let out a broken moan as he slowly pushed inside of you.
“Holy fuck.” You gasp, your fingers digging into his forearm as you grab him tightly as your walls stretch painfully around him. “Wow.” Your eyelids fluttered as your eyes rolled back in your head. His fingers slid around your throat, putting a delicious pressure on your neck.
“Such a good bunny, taking me so well.” His meticulous hand placement was starting to make you feel light headed, the mixture of the sensation and his praise making you dizzy with dopamine. You moan as he rolls his hips slightly. “You feel so good squeezing around my cock.” He purrs before placing a kiss on your cheek. You squirmed and whined as you lay there, impaled on his throbbing cock. William groaned at how wet you were, he could feel your juices dripping down the base of him. “So pretty sweetheart.” He coos, chuckling at your desperate state. His arm tightens around you, rolling his hips and causing you to cry out. You cursed as he pushed impossibly deep inside of you, your body moving instinctually as you bounced on his cock. He groans, his hips snapping up to meet yours. Your moans grew louder and more fervent with every thrust, his tip kissing the perfect spot inside of you everytime. Your thighs started to shake as you felt your climax creeping up on you. “Are you going to cum for me sweetheart?” He asks in a sweet voice. You nod, biting your lip to try and muffle your moans. You yelp as he suddenly delivers a sharp slap to your ass. “I want to hear you bunny.” He growls in your ear.
“Yes sir.” You gasp, letting your moans fall freely from your mouth. You let out a high pitched whine as your orgasm hung joust out of reach. You moan out his name, he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, making you cry out in pleasure. He reaches a hand in between your legs and swipes his fingers over your clit.
“So good for me.” He praises you. He wraps his hands around your waist, helping you fuck yourself faster on his cock. You scream his name as your orgasm rips through you, sobbing as he fucks you through your climax. Your whole body shook, your hand gripping weakly onto his wrist. “I got you sweetheart.” He whispers, settling himself deeply inside of you. Your eyelids felt heavy as you nestled into his soft pillows. He pulls the comforter up around your shoulders. You smiled at the scent of his musky cologne. Every small shift from him made you whine, after letting you rest for a while he began to rock his hips again. Small gasps and sighs falling from your lips as he tenderly fucks into you. “I’m gonna fill you up.” He groans, his thrusts growing uneven and stuttering every so often.
“Please.” You moan softly. Hearing your soft voice only seemed to spur him on. His slow deep thrusts had both of you moaning. You held on tightly to William’s arms, wanting to be pressed as close to him as possible. He groans your name as he finishes, his hips stuttering as he pushes as deep inside of you as he can manage. He places soft kisses to the nape of your neck as he pulls you into his chest. You found yourself easily drifting off in his arms, before you knew it you had drifted off into a dreamless sleep. When you woke up you rolled over, cuddling into his warm back. You placed a soft kiss to a couple of the faded scars on his shoulder.
“Well good morning sweetheart.” He hums as he rolls over and pulls you into his chest. “You wanna stay in bed while I get breakfast started?” His voice raspy and deeper than normal as he fought off the thickness of sleep.
“Can you stay in bed just a little longer.” You put, nuzzling your face into his neck.
“Sure, anything for you sweetheart.” He says with a smile and a kiss to your forehead. You laid on top of his chest, your fingers trailing through his chest hair as you talked about the plan for the day. He places a soft kiss to your lips as he slides out from underneath you to go get dressed. You cuddle up into the blankets, watching the muscles in his back flex as he gets dressed. A little while later he returned with a tray full of food, setting it in between the two of you. The two of you chatted pleasantly over breakfast, William consistently making you smile and laugh. “I’m going to head out to the garage, take your time getting ready, I’ll be out there when you’re done.” You grab him by the collar, keeping his lips on yours for a little longer than normal. He shoots you a wink as he slips out of the bedroom. You took your time getting ready, slipping into one of his shirts, the oversized clothing falling half way down your thighs. You washed your face and fixed your hair before wandering downstairs to find William. You heard the sound of powertools and pushed through the door. William stood with a welding mask on, his shirt discarded over a nearby chair. His skin, completely drenched in sweat, glowed in the dim overhead lighting. Streaks of grease dragged down his neck and across his stomach from where he had rubbed his hands across his skin. He flips his mask off when he notices you entered his workshop. “Hey bunny.” He grins. You saunter over to him to look over his expert work.
“You really are incredible, William.” He runs his fingers through his hair as he clears his throat, a noticeable blush on his face. You stood by him, allowing him to walk you through his process, an arm wrapped around your waist as he kept you tucked safely against him.He cursed as he looked up and noticed the time.
“We’re gonna be late.” He takes your hand, leading you inside. He pulls you into a heated kiss as he helps you out of your borrowed clothes. He picks you up and carries you into the shower. You yelped and giggled as your back pressed into the frigid wall. William carefully lets down your hair before allowing you to wet it. You sigh as he works shampoo into your hair, gently massaging your scalp. You couldn’t help but stare as you watched the soapy water run down his body. He wraps you up in a fluffy towel, retrieving your work clothes as you dried off. You both ran to his car, laughing as you fell into the front seats. “I’ll run out and grab the timing belt for your car after I check in on Freddy’s.” He promises. You nod, a bit sad that your stay with him was over so quickly. You fall into him as he turns sharply into the parking lot. He tilts your chin up with a finger, a softness in his eyes as he studies your features. His eyes flash down to the dark bruises and bitemarks that littered your neck. “Are you, um… are you okay with people knowing about this?” He asks with a slight wavering in his voice.
“This?” You ask with a coy smile as you raise your eyebrow at him.
“Us.” He blurts out before swallowing thickly. You lean in ,placing a soft kiss against his lips.
“Only if you are.” He breathes out a soft laugh, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He walks around to your side of the car as you’re gathering your things, opening your door for you. You thank him softly as he helps you out. You link your arm through his, leaning your head on his shoulder. He holds the door open for you, wrapping his arm around your waist before pressing his lips to yours in one long, loving kiss.
“I’ll see you after work, bunny.” He winks before slipping off to his office. You smile as you watch him head out, adjusting his tie and greeting customers as he passes by. You turn to look out over the pizzeria, meeting Ashley’s shocked expression. She speed walks over to you, her eyes immediately falling to your abused neck.
“What happened to catching me up?” She yell whispers at you.
“Things might have gotten a little more serious than just a kiss.” You admit awkwardly.
“Well no shit, look at the hickey’s he gave you.” You smile as you catch his gaze from his position seated at his desk.
“He wants to make sure everyone knows I’m his.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @redflowery (I think that's everyone, if you'd like to be added to the tag list or I forgot you please let me know!!)
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bamgyw · 4 months
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˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ the second night ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
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the spiritualization of sensuality is called love: it is a great triumph over christianity. - friedrich nietzsche
warnings: +18 getting hornier. pillow,, humping,, heh. a tiny bit of voyeurism as well? fingering. and a lot of male yearning we love that, we love a desperate man. a/n: team we made it to the smut. the hand kissing bit is kind of victorian. jane austen, even. but. i don't care. i’m not 100% happy with the outcome so it might get a little edited in the (distant) future, but nothing fundamental. this is a part of a longer work ♡ go to the beginning here
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"i am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses."
beomgyu stumbled upon that quote within the pages of a stolen copy of a book by nietzsche. he had always found himself more drawn to the destructive lunacies of clinically depressed germans than to the saving grace of the holy scriptures. there was no self-pitying in the bible, no self-indulgent sorrow to hold on to.
he had found that book, thus spoke zarathustra, in soobin's room, tossed in the trash. it looked almost new, so he took it out of curiosity.
"why are you throwing this away?" beomgyu asked.
soobin shrugged. "it's a good read if you're a happy person," he said. "but if you're miserable, it'll rot your brain. more spiritual talk and petty self-help in there than in the bible."
but beomgyu quietly took the book without soobin noticing, and he carried it in his back pocket ever since.
he had no intention of reading it from cover to cover, but sometimes he would flip absentmindedly through the pages, fixating on some passages. and that one specifically had reminded him of you. his new meaning. the rose he found in the darkness.
during the day, beomgyu usually roamed aimlessly around the town, drifting along with the rhythms of his headphones. that was pretty much the sum of his daily human activity since he quit college.
it was all he knew how to do, and often felt like all he was good for.
as he walked through the town, the familiar sounds of honking cars, distant sirens, and murmuring conversations mixed with the music in his headphones. the air was thick with the scent of seawater and the faint, sour smell of industry. it was a crummy town, sordid. each step felt heavy, purposeless, leading him nowhere.
he had a few favorite spots he liked to hang around - the port where the boats came in, or the grimy industrial estate where the addicts gathered. they all knew his dad pretty well. and maybe if they knew beomgyu was the son of the man who supplied them with their shit, they'd treat him better. but that's a secret he kept to himself.
instead, he joined in on their petty fights, easily swayed by whatever side fit his mood that day. he was better at fighting than them, but the victory was hollow. he was younger, his body was not rotten –not completely– and he had full motor control over his limbs. but he got pleasure from winning, anyway. he liked to exert some control over someone else for once. 
still, that day he didn't walk to any of his usual spots. he had been feeling a sorrow less violent, an ominous need for silence. his feet, barely in conversation with his brain, dragged him to the town's small church.
he had never really stopped at the church before, just passed by without giving it much thought. but now, standing there, he realized it was probably the most beautiful building in town.
every other construction felt fake, in plastic and plasterboard, but the wooden church had been crafted by the artisan hands of a carpenter and build up by a community. it seemed to be lovingly nursed, too. though the church meant little to him, it was obviously fundamental to others.
when lost and adrift, beomgyu would wander, getting into fights and ruining himself. but under similarly pitiable conditions, others came to the chapel like it was a second home, sometimes safer than their own. beomgyu wished he had something like that, too.
the building was small, but cute. surrounded by a little forest of old camellia trees, its walls painted a crisp white. it was an old building, but it was thoroughly taken care of. the air was different, cleaner, carrying the earthy scent of the camelliae and the faint fragrance of blooming flowers.
beomgyu liked how the wooden cross crowned the roof, marking the building, never allowing anyone to go astray. it must feel good, he thought, to have some guidance like that when you don't know where to go. a flower in the desert, a light in the darkness.
he knew he was being stupid and overemotional. he had never believed in all this religious stuff, and he never would. his relationship with god, if there even was one, was mostly based in resentment. if god was real, he could've treated him better.
and still, he didn't dare to enter the chapel out of some reverential respect he didn't even know he was capable of. so he just stood there, staring at the chapel, feeling small.
he took a deep breath. his cheek still burned where you had kissed him the night before. he really was going out of his mind.
"i want her so bad. and i think she might want me too." he prayed. to the church, to its wood, to the camellia trees, to the sky –he didn't know, he didn't care. "please let me be with her. please don't hurt her because of it, or shame her, or kick her out or whatever it is you do with sinners. i promise it’s not a bad thing. it’s so much purer than you think." he said.
no one answered, of course. there was just silence. some ruffling of the leaves because of the breeze, maybe the trebling chirp of a bird, but no answer. he felt like an idiot.
praying sucked, he ratified. how could you even make sure you were being listened to? it was emotional manipulation, playing with one's hope. feeling down and disappointed, he left.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
entering soobin’s house again would have felt like torture, were it not for the certainty that you lived there, too.
soobin never really left the house. he only went out to go to class in the mornings, and he still chose to skip as many as he could. not because he wasn't a good student, he was disturbingly accomplished. he just disliked the people.
every day, soobin locked himself in his room and studied relentlessly. he was determined to make something of himself and leave his stepfather’s house behind. he had a plan. beomgyu didn’t know the details of this plan—soobin never shared it, fearing it might be jinxed if spoken aloud—but it was clear that soobin believed hard work could get him out of that miserable house.
beomgyu thought that rhetoric too optimistic, alienated from reality. but still, he had some admiration for him. unlike beomgyu, who wallowed in his own misery instead of changing his situation, soobin searched for solutions.
beomgyu sometimes found him too sickly and rancorous, but he still looked up to him for his willpower. not that he would ever admit that to soobin.
so when beomgyu got to the house, certain that soobin would be there, he gave him a call. it was a code they had. soobin leaned out of his bedroom window, and threw down the keys for beomgyu to catch so that he could make his way in. 
as beomgyu climbed the creaky wooden stairs, he realised that the usual thrill and allure of sneaking around that house he had felt at night was dimmed in the daylight. he hated the smell of that place, too. the air inside was stuffy, filled with the faint scent of old wood and something slightly medicinal.
as he reached the top floor on his way to soobin’s room, he passed by a closed door. pristine surface, painted white. he knew immediately. a pink mother-of-pearl crucifix hung on the wood.
he stood in front of it, his heart quickening. inside that room lived his little bird, trapped in an evil cage. his angel, his obsession. he gladly would’ve shattered the door with his own hands. let his knuckles bleed, let the splintered wood stab into his fingers. he just wanted to take you away and set you free.
at first he maintained a cautionary distance. he feared that if he got any closer, he would actually do it. but then he saw the little plaque under the cross, in sterling silver, shining when the light hit it. he approached to read what it said.
"the lord is faithful. he will establish you and guard you against the evil one." it said.
beomgyu scoffed, a bitter smile curling his lips. like some metal plaque could protect her, he thought. he's the only dangerous thing in her life. that superstitious fool.
he found it bitterly amusing, to the point of feeding his ego. some cultures hang garlic on the doors to keep away the vampires and the witches. your daddy had hanged a nacre cross to keep choi beomgyu away from you.
he let his hand reach for the crucifix. he traced his fingers over it, middle and index. all the doors had a crucifix of their own, but yours was the only one that wasn't a choppy piece of wood, crude and utilitarian. his thoughts wandered as his fingers brushed over the cool, smooth surface. he must be aware of how pretty she is, beomgyu thought.
as he did, a noise startled him. he jolted away from the door, retreating as far as he could. only when he saw it was just soobin coming out of his room did he catch his breath.
“you were taking too long,” soobin said, his expression gloomy. “i didn’t like it.”
“you care for me that much?” beomgyu asked, a bitter grin spreading across his face as he walked up to him, hands in his pockets.
"well, i let you into my house, didn't i?" he asked, accusative.
"you did." beomgyu replied. “it's not versailles, but it’s cute. lots of quirky decorations.” he shrugged, poking at the crucifix that hanged on soobin’s door, tilting it slightly. "it's like a theme park."
"eveything’s a joke to you." soobin replied. he seemed distrusting, his chest filled with something he probably shouldn't say. but he did, anyway. “you need to forget about her."
“what are you talking about?” beomgyu raised his tone, a flicker of panic crossing his eyes, quickly masked by anger.
“i know you. you’re going to let your impulsiveness ruin everything for all of us. it won’t end well.” soobin said. “she's not like one of those girls you used to pick up at private schools. if you want to manipulate your way into someone's pants, choose someone else.”
beomgyu’s anger flared. how dared he imply those were his intentions? how dared he assume he had any other purpose than caring for his angel and godsend grace?
he took a violent step towards soobin, who flinched slightly but held his ground. “you think i’m dorian gray or some shit?” beomgyu retorted. “you're just pressed because i'm not a pussy like you, restraining yourself to please that maniac. but whatever happens, it won’t be because i forced myself on anyone."
“she doesn’t know what she wants." soobin said. "she’s confused and love deprived.”
“and you’re a patronising asshole,” beomgyu snapped back. "who are you to say anything?"
“you’re playing with fire. if you wanna be a psychotic masochist, fine. but don’t drag others into your mess. get yourself hurt if you want, but leave us out of it.”
“us?" beomgyu asked with a wicked grin. "she's an adult. she can make her own choices. and if your stepdad wants to mess with her because of it, it´ll be over my fucking dead body."
“is this how you repay me for letting you stay in my house?” soobin asked, a mix of hurt and frustration in his eyes.
“thing is," beomgyu began with a cynical laugh. "this isn’t about you. you shouldn’t be this bothered,” he said. “and if you are, maybe you should check yourself and see if you’re acting like your stepfather.”
soobin’s knuckles turned white, but he took a deep breath and held it in. “just. don’t do it." he said through gritted teeth. "it’s not worth it.”
but beomgyu grinned wickedly. he had one last bombshell, one last thing to get soobin fuming. “i’ll let you know if it's worth it or not when i have your sister go dumb on my cock.” he said, feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction.
he shouldn't have said it.
instead of getting angry, as he had intended to accomplish, soobin smirked, too. it was unsettling. beomgyu got a ghostly feeling about it.  "what is it?" he spat out.
soobin inclined his head slightly towards the room with the mother-of-pearl cross—the room of his little bird. beomgyu turned just in time to catch a sliver of a prying eye, peeking through a barely open door. your eye widened when it met beomgyu’s gaze, then you vanished, the door slamming shut.
shit. beomgyu's heart raced, his breath hitching.
soobin smiled, a hint of triumph in his eyes. "consider her warned."
˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
late at night, thoughts of you consumed beomgyu’s mind. he knew he had fucked up. he knew that now you probably thought he was a creep and never wanted to see him again. his mind raced, replaying the words he wished he could take back.
he could’ve played his cards right. go slow, ease you into it. but he wasn't that sure now. the uncertainty gnawed at him, twisting his insides with each passing thought.
soobin's room felt even stuffier than the night before, the air heavy and oppressive. the walls seemed to close in on him, making it hard to breathe. the need to see you pressed down on his chest, but lingering doubt kept him glued to the mattress.
a lone fly buzzed around, its annoying droning echoing through the room and fraying his nerves. each pass it made seemed to grow louder, amplifying his sense of confinement, maddening him.
his mind wouldn't shut up about you. you had struck him as someone who knew how to watch your back. he recalled how cautious you had been around him the previous night, like a dog used to being beaten flinches at the sight of a stick. but your eyes had never left his. not for a second. they seemed innocent, but not naive.
he liked that, he thought. that you were like him, smartened up by your environment. but he liked the innocence too, so much. an untouched you, drowning in chasteness and self-restrain.
uncaressed belly, uncaressed thighs, uncaressed sweet pussy. he could make you feel so good. that was all he could offer, all he could give you. he had nothing else.
he knew he should let the thought go. that he should start wrapping his mind around forgetting about you. but it was late, and he was tired, and the only picture that lingered in his mind was a pearl choker and a rosary over a tender neck.
with soobin's steady breathing beside him, perhaps even asleep, beomgyu lay staring at the ceiling. images of you fluttered behind his closed eyelids, all imaginations of his lovesick mind. illicit, probably, but fated.
he thought of your pretty lips whispering praises meant for him, kissing his cheeks, his jaw, the curve of his neck. he wanted to know the taste of your mouth, the softness of your touch.
had you even been kissed yet? with a father as twisted as yours, it seemed unlikely. beomgyu wanted you to never have been kissed. he wanted to teach you how to do it himself. eat your mouth out, nibble at your lips and press them gently. but not hurt you. that was new. 
he would start slow, so that you’d want more of him. then he'd deepen the kiss, his grip on you tight, giving into whatever you asked for, never letting you go hungry. the tingling started, the blood pumping.
pause. he thought as soon as he became aware that he was getting hard. his rational mind tried to assert control, to rein in his desires. you loser, just by thinking of kissing. be cold-minded. a voice told him. actions have consequences. 
the voice sounded a little like him, but it was surely an imposter. if it wasn't impulsive and hot-blooded, then it wasn't choi beomgyu. 
"i just want to apologise." he lied to himself as he sat up all of the sudden.
he slipped out of bed, his bare feet padding softly against the cool floor. he moved slowly, mindful of the creaking floorboards that threatened to betray his movements.
but a subtle rustle, not caused by him, echoed in the quiet room. the soft shuffle of fabric against skin. soobin was awake, and he had wanted to let him know. but beomgyu couldn't begin to care.
as he closed the door behind him, trying to make as little noise as possible, a sudden thud reverberated through the silence. "shit!" he cursed under his breath. another door in that corridor slammed shut with a resounding roar.
someone left a window open. air currents cause noise, beomgyu mused as he made his way down the dimly lit corridor, his steps quickening with purpose. tomorrow night, he thought, he would make sure all windows were closed before going to bed.
as he travelled the shadowy corridor, he got a chill. he kept hearing the ruffling of fabric, a doorknob twisting, steps against the wooden floor. a shiver went down his spine, but he told himself to forget about. it was all in his head.
he refused to let the silent threat your daddy stop him from seeing you. that liar, that imposter, that self-proclaimed god keeping everyone hostage in his castle of authoritarianism and indoctrination.
when he got to your door, the mother-of-pearl crucifix halted him like a policeman. it seemed more commanding now than it had earlier. it was stupid, he thought, how the night enhanced every feeling. 
the cross regarded him and he regarded the cross. “i just want to apologise,” he told jesus christ. “i said something stupid earlier today, and i wanna make better.” he tried to convince him.
it was just a symbolic plea. a desperate attempt to absolve himself of guilt, to make him feel less lustful, less like a pig. to find redemption in the eyes of a higher power. 
he thought about what soobin had said, about god, about your father, about right and wrong. maybe he wasn't as smart as he thought. maybe he was loosing the game and they were all making him go insane for good.
he debated whether to just turn back after the thought came to him that you didn't even want him there, anyway. how could you want him at all, after just one meeting where all he received was rejection?
sure, he got a quick kiss in the end, but it didn't outweigh the pulling away, the uncertainty, the avoidance. what was he worth, really? nothing. not even worth enduring a scolding from your dad, let alone the weight of guilt. he was making a fool of himself. better leave now before anyone got hurt for nothing.
but as he turned to walk away, his heart heavy and ready to toss aside, he heard a noise from inside the room.
a whimper. it was so faint he was sure his febrile mind had made it up. that he was so schizophrenically in lust he had made you escape that sound in his brain. a whimper. a sweet soft whimper. 
he tried to make sense of it by convincing himself that he heard you crying. he even allowed his sense of self-importance to fuel thoughts of bursting into the room and offering you his shoulder to cry on. to cuddle you, to comfort you.
but when he heard it the second time, his breath caught. this time it was a moan, unless his yearning mind was deceiving him. he pressed his ear to the door. he clearly heard a trail of soft muffled moans. restrained, but just so lewd to his feverish self. his face burned, his cock twitched.
index and middle finger reached slowly for the doorknob. they brushed over it, hesitating. maybe it was locked. and maybe that was for the better. the hand wrapped around it, twisted it slightly. it was open.
holding his breath almost to asphyxiation and in the most silent motion he had ever performed, he peaked in. 
god existed, he found out. his mouth went dry. like a bird in the clouds, surrounded by snowy plush blankets, he saw his little dove making herself feel so good against her pillow.
facing away from him, your legs draped on each side of it. your hips swayed, heavy and slow, as you tried to suppress the soft whimpers your throat escaped.
beomgyu pressed his lips together, teeth sinking into his lower lip until almost drawing blood. the messy nightdress, one delicate strap slipping off your shoulder. how the the silken fabric fell over your ass, not letting him see but inviting him to find out.
he wanted to see your doll face twisting in pleasure so desperately. to have you take in his cock and use him to fuck yourself so sweetly like that. only one door was stopping him. the door with the pink mother-of-pearl crucifix.
as though hypnotised, he quietly entered the room.
but when the door closed behind him with a click, you whirled around, eyes wide and breath catching in your throat. he froze in panic, too, as he saw how frightened you seemed. what the fuck were you expecting, you disgusting perv? came in the voice in his head.
your instinct was to retreat like a scared spider, flitting towards the head of your bed. fluffy white pillows framed your trembling body, with only a glimpse of your leg peeking out. your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, almost to an unhealthy degree, as you tried to cover yourself.
beomgyu took a cautious step forward, his obsession with you feeling safe in his presence outweighing how turned on he was. "please," he whispered, desperation in his voice. "don't be embarrassed." he said. or be. you're so adorable, all flustered like this.
"i… i'm sorry," you stuttered, your words hesitant.
beomgyu raised his eyebrow, an endeared chuckle escaping his lips. "you're sorry?"
"i shouldn't have… i…" you struggled, avoiding his gaze and pressing your hands to your head in frustration. anxiously, you began to hit your head with the heels of your hands. "i'm so pathetic."
without hesitation, beomgyu rushed closer, wrapping his hands around your wrists in the world’s softest handcuffs. "not at all," he murmured softly, his voice soothing as he attempted to coax your frightened gaze to meet his own.
quietly, almost reverently, he knelt at the edge of the bed, perching himself over the mattress like a praying supplicant.
he was so fucking hard, his blood boiling inside his pulsating veins. scorchingly, painfully. his hands trembled a bit on your wrists as he struggled to contain himself, like the scorpion resisting the urge to sting the frog and drown them both.
“i loved seeing you like that.” he managed out, eyes fixated on yours. “i’m the pathetic one, i sneaked in here like some creep. i... i'm so sorry about what i said earlier today. i was mad at soobin, trying to get under his skin. but i'm kinder than that. i can be, for you. you shouldn’t be scared of me. please.” 
"i’m not." you said.
"good," he said. "i want you to trust me."
"i think... i think i do."
beomgyu took one of your hands, already entwined with his, and raised it to his lips, planting a delicate kiss on the back. you didn't pull away, though a slight flinch ran through you. his voice, soft and concerned, cut through the quiet, "is this alright?"
you met his gaze, his eyes looking up at you dilated and pleading like a puppy's. you nodded silently, allowing him to continue.
he pressed his lips against your skin a few more times, the wet sounds his mouth made filling the room. with a heavy breath, you took in every detail of his gentle kisses—the way his plump lips pressed and nibbled at your skin, how slow, almost ritualistically.
"what were you thinking about?" he asked, his voice a muffled purr against your skin.
"w-what?" you stammered, trying to buy time as your mind raced to come up with a lie less embarrassing than the truth.
"you were so pretty like that just now, all spread out like a good girl...” he murmured softly, "tell me what got you like that."
you stalled. with an achingly slow movement, you mirrored his action. you brought his hand to your mouth, and brushed your lips over it. barely touched, almost imperceptibly.
a shiver down his spine. a sting to his heart. he watched you in awed stillness, his watering mouth half-open. then you whispered, "you."
"fuck, i– i want to do so many things to you. if you'll let me." he said. a blush crept across your cheeks as you instinctively tried to shy away, but his fingers beneath your chin guided you back to meet his gaze. "what did i do to get you like that? was it because of what you heard me say?" he asked.
"because of everything." you replied.
he moved up from the floor with deliberate slowness, each motion purposeful as if he were approaching a skittish forest creature, determined not to scare it away. cautious, he inched closer, finally settling beside you on the bed. "tell me." he said. "i wanna hear."
"you're smarter than daddy," you began to say, your voice mumbled, as you gazed at him, his features so close you could count the flecks of gold in his eyes. "daddy thinks he's god's chosen one, but you keep outplaying him. so what does that make you?"
"a hellhound," he replied with a cynical smile, drawing even nearer.
"no," you said softly, shaking your head in disagreement. "you're good. and you're sweet to me." with tender care, you brushed his bangs, your fingertips delicately tracing the contours of his face like a child exploring a new toy. you lingered over his brows, his long lashes, the graceful curve of his cupid's bow, and the strong line of his jaw. "and you're… really pretty."
an impulse like a mighty wave of devotion pushed beomgyu to cup your face, his thumb tracing delicate lines over your skin as he asked, voice barely more than a whisper, "have you ever been kissed?"
"yes." you nodded. though there was a flicker of fear in your eye, like he would've been disappointed at that lack of purity. but if he did, he said nothing.
"show me how you do it." he urged, his words a gentle plea as he drew closer, his breath mingling with yours.
you leaned in painfully still, the weight of his gaze bearing down on you. but just before your lips met, you paused. hesitated. this changed everything. but beomgyu met your gaze unwaveringly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret or doubt. then, with a soft smile, he encouraged you forward.
you brushed your lips against his, ever so slightly. it was a trembling little touch. chaste. when you pulled away, beomgyu's eyes remained fixed on you, half closed and drunk in longing.
he gently pivoted the hand that had cupped your face, trailing its back along the curve of your cheekbone to finally rest it at the nape of your neck. "so pretty," he whispered. "why are you so scared?"
"i don't want to disappoint you," you mumbled softly.
beomgyu's response was immediate, a fervent shake of his head. "never," he insisted, his voice a husky plea, "you're doing so well. please, kiss me again."
with trembling fingers, you reached up to his neck, your heartbeat a wild rhythm in your chest. you nestled his upper lip within yours. a little more intensely this time, but still experimental, like you were gingerly trying to color within the lines.
beomgyu was gone. you were so soft and plush and just so scared to do anything wrong. he lingered, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips. "they're mine now," he said in a low growl.
he took over, giving you a deep wet kiss. unrestrained, heavy like a lion’s roar. as you moved your lips together, beomgyu demanded more and more, leaving you breathless. one of his hands rested on your thigh, tentatively stroking, fondling over the skin, as if to soothe you, to tell you everything was alright.
he tilted his head, seeking depth in your mouth. one of your hands traced up the length of his chest and reached his neck, which you squeezed tightly as you felt his mouth opening yours to let his tongue in. you tensed. he noticed. “do you like that?” he asked, breath heavy.
“i... yes."
and so he did it again. another painfully lusty kiss that left your lips soaked and swollen. you escaped a moan that he loved so desperately, making him bite on your lower lip, drawing another embarrassingly whiny whimper out of you. after a softer peck, he outlined the bitten skin with his tongue.
he devoured your lips again, eating out your mouth. he slipped his tongue back into your mouth to circle yours, playing with it; then he pulled back, as if urging you to follow him. he wanted you to try yourself.
his hand on your thigh moved to embrace your waist, fingers poking into your skin. you felt firm, secure. in the middle of the unbridled kiss, your tongue ended up in his mouth. so soft. my good little girl. he let out a grunt of satisfaction. happy with his reaction, your instinct got you to hold on to him tighter, trying to find a closeness that was impossible in that position.
he got frustrated at it, too, his groans turning into hummed pleading moans against your lips. for a painful second, he pulled away to say, "let me watch you fuck yourself, just like you were when i came in. please." he said. "would you be comfortable with that?" he asked. 
you nodded slightly, though you weren't even sure you were telling the truth. they were irreconcilable, avoiding embarrassment and giving in to the aching sensation in your pussy the moment he spoke those words.
he stretched his arm out toward the pillow, gently offering it to you, observing as you knelt on the bed and retook the position he had found you in. he helped you through it, caring for you with caresses and soft kisses, but he went back to seat at the edge of the mattress, gnawing lightly on his lip with anticipation. you didn't want that, you realised. you wanted him close.
you reached out your hand for him to grasp, "what is it, baby?" he asked, tending to you with gravity.
you guided him towards you, maneuvering him to recline half-seated against the bedhead. he caught on to your intentions and leaned in to give you a gentle peck before allowing his hands to settle on your hips, helping you in adjusting the pillow beneath you.
now on all fours, with him facing you, he noticed you wanted to say something, the words lingering on your lips. "is everything alright?" he asked, his hand tenderly caressing your arm.
you stammered a bit before shyly asking, “can you keep on kissing me?”
he smiled fondly. he would never in a million years be able say no to you. “of course, my angel.”
he drew nearer, his proximity warming you up. having him there like that, you didn't need to support yourself on your arms- instead, you found yourself instinctively clinging to his neck. with a mellow kiss and his hands firmly securing their hold on your hips, he led the start of the back and forward motion.
the first reactions the rubbing of your clit against the fabric drew out were subdued, mere soft moans and gentle breaths mingling with his the plush of beomgyu’s lips. but with his grasp pressing you down, those initial movements evolved into more intense and profound ones.
he let one of his hands abandon your hips to entwine his fingers in the strands of your hair. the louder your moans got, the tighter his grip on it. he was so hard, with no escape for it. but he liked the pain, the desperation. "you sound so beautiful, fuck–" he breathed out. "but i'm gonna feel so much better than that."
the promise echoed in your mind, getting you to let out a crying plead, "p-please, beomgyu..." you moaned out, as you fumbled with your hand to find his.
"you want me to help you out?" he asked, almost like it was a privilege.
"mhm," you whimpered with a sheepish, frantic nods.
"cute." he breathed out. his face was flushed and burning hot, his cock ached uncomfortably, but he spartanly focused on his little angel’s pleasure above anything else.
he wrapped his arms around your waist and took you to his lap, where he held you tight. "are you comfortable like this?" he asked, placing a a soft peck to your forehead.
"yes." you answered, embarrassingly. you were wet to the point of dampening your inners thighs, and you were mortified to have him see, to even stain him. but he'd notice soon enough.
he grunted as he kept on kissing down your face. your temples, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth, your ridiculously tasty lips. he held on to your waist for dear life with one of his arms, but allowed the other to travel down, slowly and deviantly towards your virgin pussy.
"you're soaked, my baby." he breathed out. you would've felt self-conscious at the exposure, but you saw in his eyes how bad he liked it. how starved and aroused he seemed when he began to caress your wet cunt with his slender fingers.
his cold touch startled you at first, making you hold on to his neck tighter. you were too sore, too sensitive. "don't be scared. i'm gonna take such good care of you," he said. "i promise."
tentatively, he stroked over the surrounding area of your aching centre, index and middle finger touching softly over your wetness. he performed circling motions in your clit, taking his time. getting to hear you. “b-beomgyu, you—god—you feel really good…”
he learned that when you liked something he did, you'd shower him in desperate soft pecks, like a puppy licks your hand after you pat its head. he wanted to see you react further, he wanted to try it all. he spread your pussy with both fingers and pressed forcefully against your throbbing clit with a third one. startled, you clutched his hair so firmly you feared you might have hurt him.
as by instinct, your thighs twitched from the overstimulation and seemed to want to close around his hand, but he didn't let them. he shushed into your lips with a soft "shhh," soothing as the seashore before leaning in for a honeyed kiss. he traced patterns against your cheek with his nose after pulling away. "its alright. you're doing so fucking well."
he let you catch your breath, but not for too long. he quickened his pace, your moans getting too loud, wept out and filthy enough to horrify all the saints in the house of god. it became a duel of you trying to suppress yourself and keep it quiet, and beomgyu trying to get everyone in the house to know how good he was for you.
to restrain the growing sound of your moaning, you buried your face into beomgyu’s neck, trying to muffle your voice against his body. but he huffed into your ear, "don't hold back. only you and me matter, no one else."
"i think i–" you whimpered into his ear, choking on your own puffs. the pleasure crept up on you, becoming too strong to bear and making your whole body shudder against his. "beomgyu, please..." you cried out.
he saw how close you were, and quickly thought if he should or should not stop it. tease you, edge you, have you go on all night. he could do so many things, he ached so much to do them all. but as he saw your pretty face so desperate to cum, how needy and palpitating, you were, he decided he had all the time in the world.
his movements quickened, each motion filled with urgency and strength. his veiny, strained forearm bore the weight of the world as he got you to your peak.
you came with a stifled cry but you muted your voice against his neck again. he wished he could've heard it in its full, piercing clarity, but he understood. you were so sheepish, his perfect little girl.
he didn't pull his hand away immediately, instead letting you feel his warmth for a little longer as you trembled against his chest. "my baby, you did so well," he whispered into your ear, his voice a soothing balm as he gently cradled your body.
now that the tension had drained from your limbs, you found yourself collapsing against him, your body limpy and worn out. it was then that you noticed the bulge in his pants. "beomgyu…" you murmured, your voice heavy. "teach me how to help you out."
"forget about me," he replied with a gentle smile. "i just wanted to get you to trust me tonight. to show you how good i can make you feel." 
you gazed at him, cherishing his handsome features. his cheeks were flushed, too, and his eyes so gentle. you couldn't help but cup his face in your hands, drawn to him. but as you leaned in to kiss him, he stopped you faintly, saying, "wait. don't kiss me. i want you to have something to look forward to, so you'll be excited to see me again tomorrow."
"you'll come back tomorrow?" you asked, your eyes lighting up with hope.
“i couldn’t stay away even if i wanted to,” he replied. but as he said it, he noticed a flicker of guilt crossing your face. gently, he brushed a strand of hair away from your reddened cheek. "how are you feeling?" he asked softly.
your gaze darkened slightly. "like i shouldn't have done it," you admitted. "like daddy saw everything."
"i'm… sorry," beomgyu said, his voice full of consternation.
"no, it's not your fault. those thoughts aren't real. i can make the guilt go away, in time," you reassured him. "but i like it when you hold me. that's real. i… like you. a lot, i think."
beomgyu didn't even know what to say. he struggled to understand how this could be wrong to any human religion or faith since the dawn of time, because to him this felt like heaven. he held you in his arms, all flushed and a little tired, your lips swollen like ripe cherries from the kisses he had given you. this was fucking nirvana for all he cared.
he deeply regretted his no-kissing rule, and he sought to end it immediately. he leaned in, but you stopped him.
"no," you chuckled, "don't kiss me. i want you to have something to look forward to so that you're excited to come back tomorrow."
he smiled back at you, like an absolute fool. maybe he was in love, even if it only had been a day, whatever. but how could he not be when he had the cutest being in existence all to himself? "give me a gift before i go, then," he said. "something i can carry with me.
"what do you want?" you asked.
"this," he said, pointing at your rosary beads. with a gesture that felt almost ceremonial, you took off the pendant and placed it around his neck. as you did, he couldn’t help but stare at your lips. "can’t i kiss you just a little?" he pouted.
you shook your head with a soft giggle. "your rules," you reminded him. "be stronger."
“fine. have it your way.”
he smiled, but it quickly vanished as you remembered him; “you should go. or soobin will know.”
he nodded, eyes filled with disappointment. the moment you lifted yourself off his lap, detached yourself off of him, an intense wave of pain surged through both of you. like a limb had been atrociously ripped off your body.
but just as he was about to leave, you grabbed his wrist, halting him. “beomgyu, wait,” you called out, rising to your knees to meet his gaze.
you pressed a gentle, lingering kiss on his cheek, just as you had done the night before. the softness of your touch sent a shiver down his spine. as you pulled back, beomgyu instinctively leaned forward, craving more. but you placed your index finger against his lips, stopping him. “you’re so weak,” you teased with a playful glint in your eyes.
he smiled ruefully. “i am,” he admitted with a sigh, the weight of reality settling back in. he really had to leave. “good night,” he murmured.
stepping out into the dark, the world felt colder, and his eyes struggled to adjust to the dimness. he lingered for a moment, leaning his back against the door, not wanting to leave just yet, but his head bumped against something.
of course.
he turned around to regard the crucifix, holding the one you had given him in his hands. same color, same material. a bittersweet smile played on his lips. “she was so good,” he told jesus christ. “and i think i made her happier, just a little. i feel a little happier too. i told you, it was much purer than you think.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ next part
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ so. i really struggled through this one. lemme know what you think.
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00ops1e · 1 year
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simon riley and fatherhood
When Simon came home from a deployment to find you, his sweet Mrs. Riley, about a month pregnant- he panicked.
He had never given much thought to children. To be frank, there simply was too much on his mind to even consider the possibility. Given his profession and upbringing, he always assumed parenthood just wasn’t for him. 
He knew you've always had a secret longing for a baby, keeping it to yourself out of respect for him and his sanity.
So, after the initial shock wore off, he couldn’t deny his excitement. Your giddiness certainly rubbed off on him. He acted a bit nonchalant, but you knew him better than that. 
You knew for sure there was nothing to worry about when you caught a glimpse at the open tabs on his computer, pregnancy blogs, lists and lists of names and ideas and tips 
The way he obsessively worked on the nursery was a big tell too, having taken time off to enjoy this privilege that he was lucky enough to share with you.
If he hadn’t initially panicked, he definitely started losing sleep when you found out it was a girl that you were having
Now, we all know and love Simon as a girl dad, but before he grows into the role, he’s a mess.
He’s terribly worried he won't be a good dad to her, that she won't be able to connect with him and somehow without that connection, he’d turn into his father.
For Christ’s sake Tommy was never able to give him a niece to prepare:(
Watching you nest, so excited for the arrival of your little girl, (along with a TON of late-night reassurance) He slowly let his worries slip away to enjoy the last couple of months with just the two of you.
If there  was any anxieties left, they melted away from him the moment he held your daughter for the first time. 
Half sitting on the hospital bed, pressed against you. His arms under yours, supporting your exhausted limbs. The limbs currently cradling your beautiful newborn.
He tears up while taking in the image of his girls, committing it to memory.
On those nights when it seems like sleep is the farthest thing from his daughter’s little mind, he stays up to soothe her.
Not so much because he’d rather you be able to sleep, more because he's completely infatuated with the way those little fingers wrapped around his one, the way babygirl seemed to relax when he spoke.
Simon walks up and down the length of the hall slowly, gently swaying with babygirl in his arms. There's definitely a visible trail formed by the heavy man’s constant, slow pacing.
When you wake up and find him not next to you, you rise and peek out the cracked bedroom door. Simon is lounging in the rocker, humming softly to babygirl. Talking to her as if she can comprehend his words. He is smitten.
To quote some comedian whose name I can't remember, he would take a bullet for you, but goddamn he’d use you as a human shield for this little life bundled in his arms. The love he has for the both of you scares him. He's completely whipped. 
Babygirl got your eyes, and lord knows he can't say no to you. This child will be the death of him.
this was supposed to be shorter but gd it was too heartwarming to stop. but moving on, HI GUYS LONG TIME NO SEE! sorry im morbidly depressed. anyway there will be a part two of this because its rotting my brain and i wanna take a look at when babygirl is older!!!! let me know what everyone's thoughts are please!
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no thoughts except Gojo Satoru experiencing his first true love.
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contains: fluff and hurt/comfort. also gojo satoru fucking cryin'
Gojo is obviously the guy who has a facade of cockiness, some one who's overtly arrogant to the point he's deemed narcissistic, which he is.
That's why when he felt attracted to you, he used all his sub surface charms to woo you, and mostly, bring you to his bed (He thinks he could only be loved for his body because his soul is way too riven with pain. ) To his dismay, it wasn't successful. He was being rejected over and over again, a hearty laugh vibrates in your lungs each and every time.
So when he got fed up, he cried in front of you. Calling you cruel and heartless.
"You're s-so fuckin... hic.. mean" his eyes glossy, lips curling upwards as it trebles against his will.
And you looked at him confused. In your mind, you were grabbing pieces of memories you two had to try and grasp what's happening.
Then it clicked.
"Toru... did you seriously like me?" and the man glared at you
"Of course, goddammit!.. The hell you think I was doin' ..." he pouts
"... to pass time?"
"..."
After that messy situation, he told you he did all of that because that's the only way he thinks it'll work so you told him he's lovable, not because he's the strongest but because he's satoru. Just satoru, no titles or ranks attached. Then he cried again, this time in your arms, heart heavy with all the love he craved since he was young. Feeling warm and fuzzy with all the affection you gave unconditionally.
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Finally got this out cuz my brain was rotting FOR DAYS with the idea of satoru experiencing his first love. He would act like a teenager but painfully aware so🥹 God, I love this man sm. That's why I stopped reading since the chapter he got cube'd. Anyways, this is extremely shirt cuz I'm still sick (unfortunately)
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thegnomelord · 5 months
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Okay fuck after reading @killerkillerkillher 's fic with demon Soap and Price, and angel Ghost and Gaz, it got my own brain worms multiplying (as if I don't have enough going on lol) so here's the au draft that's been rotting for a while lol.
So here's an idea for an au:
Reader is part of a small group of friends that are Ghost hunters/DIY exorcists (read: They're all drop out college students and the ghost hunting youtube channel's putting food on the table). Reader doesn't believe in the supernatural but the friends keep reader around because you're the group's 'ghost deterrent' because spirits GTFO when reader's near and reader thinks the friends are just bullshitting you.
Anyway the group are moving to a bumfuck town in the middle of nowhere where an old haunted house the reader's grandmother left is. Then their pos car breaks down an hour away from town. 'Luckily' the town's mechanic, Johnny, was just driving by and helps you lot out. And ain't he a handsome devil (emphasis on devil) thinking he can con a couple of young and dumb humans out of their souls. Soap's all hooded eyes and husky voice as he lures you away like a lamb to a supply closet, oil darkened hands sliding under your shirt and lips sucking dark hickeys into your throat.
He pulls away when you tug on his mohawk, raising his head until his lips are just inches from your own and you don't even notice him mutter a verbal contract, nor do you understand you've agreed to one when his lips crash on yours like he's drowning.
And Johnny's grinning into the kiss like a loon as he tries to take the soul of the stupid but hot mortal he's just met only to find out he... he can't. No matter how consuming his kisses are or how aroused both of you get your soul sits stubbornly in your chest and doesn't even budge.
When your friend bangs on the door and yells for you to "stop shagging every guy you meet!" you're forced to give an awkward goodbye and scurry away. And Soap's left completely bewildered and confused as fuck wondering what just happened and thinks he needs to tell Price.
Meanwhile, while your car's being fixed up, your friends drag you to the town's only pub that's run by a Simon Riley. He's an intimidating man without trying to be, but he doesn't immediately chase you out like some bar owners. He's quiet, listening to your friends chatter while cleaning a glass rough scarred hands, but the way he looks at you is... odd. Like you're an interesting bauble he's found on his gran's shelf.
He's there to catch you when you trip on a raised floorboard you swear wasn't there before. "Thanks, I owe you one." You say with a small awkward laugh, though for some reason it feels like him catching you had been an excuse to touch you.
"That so?" His thumb traces the dark hickeys across your throat, surprisingly soft, and you can feel your cheeks getting hot. "You let Johnny have fun with you?" His chuckle is rich like aged wine, fingers gently pressing down on a hickey; it feels possessive. "You'd let any old thing like me take from you, yeah?" There's something in his words that has a shiver running down your spine, though from apprehension or arousal you're not sure.
"Ye- eh, yeah." You don't know which question you're agreeing with, and you understand the weight of your words, quickly walking away from him before your friends can embarrass you by wolf whistling at you and him. And you completely forget to ask on how he knows it was the mechanic who gave you the hickeys.
With still some time to burn before sun sets you decide to visit the radio station in town, mainly because your friend swears on his life that those are always haunted or have some decrepit old host that knows all the gossip in town. And when you meet the man you had heard softly yet confidently talking on the radio? He's handsome, pretty brown eyes as enticing as his voice, and you're starting to sense a theme with you meeting all these very nice looking men.
But Kyle, or Gaz as he asks you to call him, is a wealth of knowledge to the point you're not sure where the gossip stops and some crumb of truth begins. He talks all the way into the night with you and your gang of amateur ghost hunters, and you see why he is the radio host because his voice is like the song of angels, silk soft on your ears and you feel like you could fall into the best sleep of your life from listening to him.
And all he wants from you in return for his knowledge? "Nothing much mate, just a small favor, I'm sure you'll manage." Kyle leans in and pecks your lips like he's sealing a promise, or a bargain, but that's just you being stupid after getting kissed by the second hot guy today, surely. Gaz already knows he can't just nab your soul, he has ears in every wall in this town, but at least he can put his own claim on you.
Day, for the most part, well spent you and your friends go to the house for a good night's rest. It isn't any good as you're woken up numerous times and by morning you have several broken vases and an exploded lightbulb — everything you explain away as the house being old as fuck, but your friends claim it to be the work of spirits — your friends drag you to the church on the hill at the asscrack of dawn.
And that's how you meet Father Johnathan Price. (Insert devil in church joke here)
He listens to your friends explain the situation, calm and collected, but you swear his eyes stay on you the entire time. "That's quite a predicament." Price hums, offering to bless you and your friends in hopes of protecting you from evil spirits.
You're the last to go, nearly jumping out of your skin when he grips your chin. "Relax my boy." Those words frazzle your brain enough for him to easily pull on your jaw until your mouth opens, his thumb almost playing with your bottom lip. The look in his eyes is dark, the air between you far heavier than it should be between you and a bloody priest. But Price doesn't see anything wrong with this, pressing a thumb down on your tongue and then putting a wafer on your tongue. "There you go, you are now blessed in the name of a lord. Now consume it, my boy."
You obey automatically. You're not quite sure if a communion wafer is supposed to taste so... weird, it has a coppery and peppery taste to it. Almost like spicy blood or something but that's just you being stupid again, especially as you can feel heat burning between your legs.
Sufficiently embarrassed about getting hard at a priest you give an awkward goodbye and leave, trying to fix your pants before your friends see your... problem.
Johnny appears by Price's side in a small flicker of flames and brimstone when you leave, confident smirk on his face. "Ooh, couldn't resist claiming a piece of him fer yourself?" He smirks, nudging Price on his side.
"I suppose he is more interesting than the usual rabble." Price hums, already imagining of how handsome you'd look laying naked on the altar, and how to get you to that point.
Congrats! Now you've got 4 hot dudes trying to take your soul :D
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