#best high speed wall fan

[ohwowimlonley]

more public sex with james please 🙏🙏

No :)

-

Everyone is piled onto one large L shaped sofa in James’ living room, despite there being plenty of other seats available. James says it’s because you get the best view of the TV from where you are, but you’re convinced it’s some kind of ploy.

Sirius is sat to the left of you, James to your right and Remus to his right. There’s a pink sherpa blanket over your thighs, one that you’d offeredto the boys on either side of you, but they’d both refused, with Sirius claiming that he doesn’t need a blanket to watch a horror movie, and James saying he’d let you know if he gets too cold.

In all honesty, you’re not at all interested in the movie playing on the TV screen, despite the fact that you were allowed to pick the movie, one you knew would scare the life out of Sirius and Remus.

James’ thigh has been pressed to yours for the past fifteen minutes, and even through the expensive matierial of the blanket you can feel the heat that he’s somehow always radiating. It’s distracting, really, the way he touches you just oh so casually, like there’s no intention behind it at all. But you know better. There’s no way that he just so happens to repeatedly brush his hand slightly too high when stroking your thigh over the top of the blanket.

Quickly, but as nonchalantly as possible, you throw the blanket over his lap too, and swing your right leg over his knees. He’s suggested doing this sort of thing before; touching eachother in front of the boys, and you’ve always been eager but too apprehensive to actually try it yet.

“You sure about this?” James knows what you want. Somehow, he can always just tell. His hand is already underneath your skirt, on the brink of prodding the waistband of your panties. His lips are on your earlobe, breath fanning all the way down your neck and giving you goosebumps, “we can just go upstairs, you know the boys won’t mind,”

You don’t trust your voice. If you try to speak now, the sound that will come out will be nowhere near appropriate, so you just nod, slow and meek, and keep your eyes flitting to the boys on either side of you.

Your subtleties last not even a minute. The second James’ calloused fingers make contact with your clit, you let out a low, warbling whinge. All three marauder boys look at eachother and snicker. You don’t care about them knowing any more, you just smush your cheek against your boyfriend’s muscled pec.

“Needy, s’she?” Sirius has that toothy grin on, one that all the marauders know to be his ‘thinking dirty thoughts’ smile, “Moony can sort that out, y’know?”

You prove his point only moments later by grinding yourself against James’ fingers. He slips them over your slit, up, down, up, down, and finally allows them to circle around your empty, aching hole. A simply unholy sound leaves your mouth when he slips a finger inside, all the way in until his palm brushes your clit.

“Let them have their fun, pads,” Remus tuts, stretching his gangly arm around you and James to flick him on the shoulder, “you’re havin’ fun with Prongsie, aren’t you pet?”

“Yeah,” it’s barely even understandable, the high pitched preen you let out, but the boys always get you. James leans down, nosing alond your jawline and letting his teeth drag on the topmost part of your neck. He takes out his finger, and replaces it with two of them.

“Gonna show the boys how pretty you sound when you cum, love?” His fingers speed up, tapping against your gummy walls and grinding against your sweet spot. His other hand reaches round and tugs experimentally on the blanket still covering your modesty. He only removes it for the boys to see when you nod frantically against his chest.

“Already? Not even been five minutes, sweetness,” Sirius teases, eyes widening when he sees your pussy contract at his words.

“I think she just likes the attention,” James curls his fingers, using his knees to spread your legs further apart to show you off to his friends, “s’that it, honey? Y’want the boys to watch you get all desperate for my fingers? Want one of them to have a turn next?”

You choke back a sob as you finally cum around James’ fingers, barely even hearing the boys’ gasps of wonder as you gush creamyness around the rim of your puffy hole.

“So,” Remus clears his throat, “my turn?”

[heizlut]

Mine, All Mine

ꕀ cw: slight exhibitionism

ꕀ tags: bratty sub fem!reader, hard dom!geshu lin, creampie, cockwarming, marking, humiliation if you squint, rough sex

ꕀ nsfw under the cut

ꕀ m!list here

ꕀ a/n: @glitteryshlong this one’s for you bestie😚

Being Geshu Lin’s girl could be hard at times considering he asked you to keep the relationship a secret, stating something about how ‘If enemies knew about you, they’d use it against me.’ and ‘I’m the general. I can’t appear weak to affections.’

The first part you could understand, but the second made you roll your eyes. Since when was loving someone considered weak? But as stubborn as he is, you couldn’t change his mind with words. Gods, how you’ve tried. But… You could provoke him.

It was a silly thing to do, going around in your medic uniform with the skirt rolled at the waist to the point of barely covering your perfect, round ass, the top few buttons of your shirt left undone to expose the swell of your breasts peeking through.

Strutting through the base as you went about your own business, tending to those who needed it and going as far as to make lunches for the soldiers. Your pretty heels click against the ground as you walk, the sway of your hips was hypnotizing to the soldiers as you passed by.

Handing off a couple bento boxes to some soldiers with a pretty smile, “Here you go. Be sure to eat your fill. Can’t have strong men like you feeling weak in battle because you weren’t able to eat enough~”

The two men gawk down at you before smirking, one speaking up, “Well would ya look at that. What a sweet thing you are doing this for us~ What’s the occasion?” You just give a small smirk back, your words dripping like honey, “No reason. Just felt like helping out a little extra around here.”

The two soldiers chuckle, the other of the pair speaking up this time, “It’s always a pleasure whenever we get to see you, hun.” Their eyes trail over your body hungrily, and you flash a smile, “Glad to hear it~”

You strut away, tossing your hair over your shoulder and holding your head high. Peeking to the side, you spot Geshu Lin surrounded by a few soldiers, practically seething at what he’s just witnessed. His eyes trail over your form with a snarl, taking in the bounce of your breasts as you walk and the way your skirt hugs your ass.

You just give him a little smirk, to which he gives you a dangerous look as if to tell you that if you kept this up, you’d be in for it big time. But no, you weren’t about to drop the act. Instead you fed fuel to the fire when you gave out your last bento box to another irrelevant soldier, placing your hand on his chest acting all cute when he thanked you for the meal, leaving the poor man as a blushing mess as you walk away.

That was it. Geshu Lin was done with whatever the fuck you thought you were doing. With a low growl, he excused himself from the gathered soldiers who were speaking with him, pushing past them to march over to you.

If you weren’t trying to keep up this petty bullshit as you continued to strut through the base and back towards the medical center, you would’ve run like hell. The look in his eyes was one of a predator as it closed in on its prey.

You picked up your pace, trying your best to maintain your facade but no one could match the speed of the general. His strong hand grips your wrist and tugs you towards an unoccupied side of of the building outside.

Geshu Lin pins yours wrists above your head in one hand, pushing you against the wall with a snarl as he leans close to your face, “What in the hell do you think you’re doing, huh?” You play innocent, giving him pretty little doe-eyes, “I don’t know what you-ngh!”

His forceful grip on your jaw with his free hand cuts you off, “Drop the act, doll, and answer the damn question.” Geshu Lin’s hot breath fans across your lips, his golden eyes glowing with rage. Before you can answer, a soldier appears around the corner where the two of you stood, clearing his throat.

Geshu Lin run his tongue across his teeth before releasing you, turning his attention to the soldier, “What could you possibly want right now? Can’t you see I’m busy?” The soldier stands there with a sheepish look on his face, “Uh. Apologies but this is urgent. We need you in the meeting room. It seems like we have another Tacet Field incident near Desorock Highland.”

Geshu Lin huffs out a breath of annoyance but nods, “I’ll be there shortly. Gather everyone else.” With a quick nod, the soldier hurries off, glad to be away from whatever he just witnessed. Turning back to look down at you, Geshu Lin gives you a pointed look, “You’re coming with me.” Before you can even ask why or protest, he has his hand around your wrist once again, pulling you along with him.

၊၊||၊:･.၊၊||၊:･.၊၊||၊:･.၊၊||၊:･.

The meeting room was empty, yet to be filled with soldiers awaiting orders from the general. Normally, this would piss Geshu Lin off, always expecting his men to be ready and waiting, especially if there was an emergency. But right now, he didn’t care. It allowed him to move forward with what he had planned for you.

Sitting in his usual seat at the head of the table, Geshu Lin pulls you towards him, causing you to stumble slightly off balance, “What the hell, Geshu?” He rolls his eyes and places his hands on your hips, giving them a little squeeze, “Watch the damn attitude and don’t even think about questioning me.”

His hands slide over you ass before giving it a harsh smack, making you yelp in surprise, “After the shitty little act you pulled earlier, I can’t say I’m in the best mood. Now strip off your panties.” Your eyebrows raise and you open your mouth to protest, only leading to another slap on your ass, much harsher than the last. “Take. Them. Off.”, Geshu Lin growls out.

Gritting your teeth, you do as he says, sliding the flimsy material off. He snatches it from your hand and grips your jaw, squeezing just enough to force your lips to part before stuffing the panties into your mouth, “Taste yourself. I bet you got so wet acting like a whore for everyone else.” You knew better than to go against him when he was like this, but that didn’t stop you from narrowing your eyes at him.

Ignoring your pointed look, Geshu Lin undoes his belt and pants, freeing his hardening cock and stroking it slowly as he kept his eyes on you, “Since today you want to act like a desperate slut, you’re going to be a good girl and keep my cock warm during this meeting.”

Your eyebrows furrow, as if to ask if he was actually serious right now. He only answers your look with a deadpan expression as his thumb rubs over the tip of his cock, “I’ve never been more serious in my life. Get on my cock. Now.”

His harsh words and demeanor made arousal spread through you. He really was hot when he got a little mean with you… You go to straddle him, facing him, but he stops you, clicking his tongue, “Ah-ah, nope. You’ll be facing everyone else since you want to be so... performative today.”

Arousal and shame surge through you at his words, but you comply. Turning away from him as you straddle his lap, his cock pushing against your wet entrance almost has you cumming right then and there as you ease yourself down.

But you take too long for his liking and his hands grip your waist and pulls you down on his cock, drawing a muffled moan from you and a groan through gritted teeth from him, “It’s better to hurry when you know the rest will be in here any second.”

Geshu Lin’s cock throbs inside of you and the sounds of footsteps can be heard approaching the room. Mercifully, he removes the now thoroughly soaked panties from your mouth and puts them in the small pocket of your uniform. He nips at your ear as he speaks in a whisper, “Try not to make any noise, doll, and don't you dare even think about cumming without my permission.”

As soldiers begin to pile into the room, many look confused as to why one of their favorite medics was there and also sitting on their general's lap. But they weren't exactly complaining since now they had something they found particularly delicious to look at as the general droned on.

Under their intense stares, you shift slightly on Geshu Lin's cock as heat rises to your cheeks, causing him to squeeze your hips as a silent warning to keep still. It takes everything in you not to whimper softly at the warning, especially when his cock twitches every once in awhile inside of you.

Geshu Lin looks to his soldiers before speaking with his usual cold and commanding voice, "I thought this was urgent. Now speak up so we can figure out how to deal with this fucking mess." One of the soldiers quickly speaks up, "Y-yes, sir. There's a new tacet field near Desorock Highlands. The people near there have been struggling greatly with the tacet discords that are pouring out of it."

As the soldier continues on, Geshu Lin's hands begin to wander across your body. His fingers trailing up your thighs under the table, gently squeezing the flesh, making sure you stay compliant under his touch. Your cunt clenches around his cock as you bite your lip, making Geshu Lin huff out a strained, breathy chuckle.

The soldier pauses, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Sir? Is something funny about this?" The others have their eyes on both you and Geshu Lin, questioning and curious. A hint of a smirk crosses his features, "Of course not."

He reaches up with one hand and moves your hair over your shoulder, exposing your neck, his lips grazing the exposed flesh as his eyes stay locked on his soldiers in a frightening display of dominance, "But maybe our lovely medic has something to add?"

The soldiers shift in their positions, trying to hide their arousal at such a suggestive sight. Your cheeks flush hot under their scrutiny as they wait for you to speak. Geshu Lin's hot breath teases along your skin as he speaks in a low, husky voice, "Go on, doll. You were so friendly with all of them earlier. Don't act shy now~"

You shift on his cock once more, your insides squeezing his length again when his hand that was still on your thigh, begins to softly trace over your clit, "I-I can provide medical assistance at the s-site-ngh..." The soldiers eyes widen at the noise that came from you, some biting their hand to restrain themselves.

Geshu Lin's smirk widens as he presses his finger against your clit, making you let out a hiccuping gasp, "What a good girl you are, always ready to help when needed..." The soldiers stare wide-eyed with flushed cheeks as they begin to finally understand what could be happening under the meeting table out of their view.

Their eyes trail over the swell of your breasts peeking through the top you purposefully left unbuttoned earlier today, watching as they move in time with your quick breathing. One feeling bold, "accidentally" drops his pen and begins to bend down in hopes of catching a peek at what was going on under there, but Geshu Lin's golden eyes snap towards him. His voice a low snarl, "Leave it."

The soldier freezes in place, but slowly straightens back up, trying to avoid his general's threatening gaze. Silence falls over the room, only the sound of your heavy, strained breathing can be heard as your pretty pussy leaks all over his cock and dripping down and making a mess on his pants below. His narrowed eyes scan over the others, watching carefully as they stand there almost too afraid to even breathe too loud lest they face his wrath.

His lips curl up in a cruel smirk, satisfied that no one would dare to try to pull something like that again. His eyes trail down to your trembling form in his lap, trying so hard to keep still and not reveal more to the others.

Geshu Lin's finger resumes in teasing your clit in a slow, torturous pace as you squirm against him. Looking back to his soldiers, he speak in a commanding tone, "We move out tonight. Now get out of my sight."

The soldiers move quickly out of the meeting room, grateful they wouldn't have to restrain themselves at the lewd sight of you struggling in their general's lap. The second the room was cleared out, Geshu Lin grips your hips, standing quickly as he forces you to bend over the table, making you gasp from the sudden movement.

He thrusts forward, hard and deep, not even giving you the chance to regain your senses. He grips your hair with one hand, tugging your head up towards the door that had been left open just a crack as he leans down towards your ear, speaking in a low growl, "Such a whore. You fucking liked that, didn't you. Sitting all pretty and squirming on my cock while my soldiers practically fucked you with their eyes."

Each word he speaks is punctuated by sharp thrusts as his thick cock abuses your dripping hole over and over. "Ngh! G-Geshu, please!", you cry out as your pretty tits bounce with the force of his cock fucking into you, threatening to spill out from their confines. Ignoring your pleas for mercy, he bites down on your neck, marking you with his teeth with a husky groan, "Take my cock like the slut you are."

Lewd moans fall easily from your lips, your cunt squelching along his girthy length as you go dumb on his cock. Geshu Lin huffs out a laugh as he continues to mark up your skin, leaving purple marks as a testament to his possessive love for you, "Come on, doll, tell me who's fucking this slutty hole, huh? Say it."

"G-Geshu -ngh f-fuuuuck....", you moan out, your eyes rolling back as drool begins to slip from your open mouth. His smirk looks more like a dangerous snarl as his cock throbs hard inside of your twitching, squelching hole. He lets go of your hip only to deliver a resounding smack to your ass, making you cry out, "Say it again. Scream my fucking name."

His aching balls slap against your clit with each thrust, driving you closer and closer to orgasm as you babble his name between whorish moans like a desperate prayer. Your cunt clenches tight around his thick length as you cum all over his cock. Clear liquid squirts out of your hole, dripping down his balls and to the floor.

Geshu Lin snarls at the feeling and the sight, releasing his grip on your hair to hold your hips with so much force it was bound to leave you with bruises as he picks up his pace.

Without his fingers tangling into your hair, you fall limp against the meeting table, your breasts squished against the wood as they bounce. Your own drool begins to pool against the table as you're fucked mercilessly by the general you called your boyfriend.

Geshu Lin's eyes roll back at the sight of you, his pretty little girlfriend all dumb for him. His balls tighten and he grips you a little tighter as his flesh slaps against your sore ass, "You're going to take all my cum. Let it fucking drip out of you and down those pretty legs of yours." With one more sharp thrust and shuddering growl, ropes of thick cum spill out of his cock and into your cunt.

His cock throbs and pulsates as he rides out his orgasm. His silver hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as his broad chest heaves with shallow breaths. Your legs shake as they struggle to keep you standing in your pretty heels, only Geshu Lin's hold on your hips keeps you steady. He slips his softened cock out of your spent hole, golden eyes watching in satisfaction as his cum leaks out of you.

A sharp gasp sounds towards the cracked door, catches his attention as his eyes snap up. There stands a soldier who had been peeking in on their little encounter, his cock in his hand as his own release dribbles down his fist. Geshu Lin's lips twitch into a dangerous smirk as the soldier quickly tucks himself back into his pants and begins to turn away to flee the scene.

Geshu Lin clicks his tongue, making the soldier freeze, "Come here, soldier." The soldiers eyes widen, practically shaking in his boots as he obeys the general's command, his eyes quickly looking down at your fucked out form, your upper half still laying against the table. Geshu Lin grips your hair and pulls your head up gently, making you look at the soldier with dazed eyes.

His golden eyes look to the trembling, flushed soldier, "Go on, thank our pretty medic for giving you a show." Heat rushes to the man's cheeks as he stumbles over his words, "Th-thank you..."

Too fucked out to even process Geshu Lin's perverted display of dominance over you, you only let out a soft whimper. Geshu Lin's lips form a small smirk, "You're dismissed." The soldier practically runs out of there as his thoughts swirl rapidly.

Geshu Lin wraps a strong arm around your waist as he pulls you up, cradling you in his arms as he sits back down in his seat, cooing softly against your hair and pressing sweet kisses to your temple, "My pretty girl. You're mine... All mine."

၊၊||၊:･.၊၊||၊:･.၊၊||၊:･.၊၊||၊:･.

After that day, the soldiers were almost too afraid to even look at you, even when you treated their wounds and greeted them as you crossed their paths. They knew better than to act too friendly with you and you knew better than to pull a petty stunt for attention again lest you all face the wrath of the fierce general. They now knew you were his girl.

Geshu Lin didn't need to announce it with words, his display was more than enough to send a clear message: She's mine.

၊၊||၊:･.၊၊||၊:･.၊၊||၊:･.၊၊||၊:･.၊၊||၊:･.၊၊

a/n: safe to say, reader's mission was a success🥴

[dreamofjoys]

— CHARGES

Synopsis: The Chief Justice of Fontaine would like to press charges against you for making him break his own principles

C/W: afab, smut, 4.0 archon quest spoilers, public sex, unprotected sex, spanking, you call him your honour, begging, he calls you doll, fingering

A/N: I told myself not to write genshin fics but this man just took my whole breath away

"Do you know why you are here?" Neuvillette's mint breath fan over your ear, hips bucking up to push his lengthy girth back into your hole. "N-no, your honour." You couldn't stop the string of wanton moans that fell out of your lips as Neuvillette fucks you roughly, folding you into half just to get better access to your pussy. You nearly screamed when his dick hits on a spongy soft spot in your pussy that has you seeing stars.

Sensing that it was your weak spot, the chief judge continues to abuse that spot, punctuating each thrust in a slow yet hard manner. "I am pressing charges against you," the judge finally speaks, flipping you onto your back with his dick still rock hard inside you. "for making me break my own principles." You yelped when you felt a sharp vertical pain on your butt. Looking back at Neuvillette with teary eyes, you realised that he was spanking you with the cane that he carries around whenever he holds trials to establish order.

"Neuvi, it hurts." A tear fell from your eye as your butt burns in pain. Neuvillette's heart swooned when he hears the nickname. "Oh, but does this hurt?" you moaned when his dick moves again to kiss your cervix. "I-I like this one more, Neuvi. Pl-please don't hit me with that." You tried your very best to give a pitiful puppy dog eye, even pushing your lower lips out to look more pitiful. However, such mere tricks does not work on the judge who has been delivering sentence on a daily basis, especially if it's one that is of high status.

"Doll, didn't you hear what I say just now?" One of his hand reaches down to rub circles on your clit, playing with the bundles of nerves like a fidget toy. "I am going to press charge against you. Reason being? You made me break my own principles." His slim yet long fingers join his member in to stretch your pussy hole, making you moan in delight at the feeling of being stuffed full. You move your hips up and down, bouncing on his cock and fingers to chase your high.

Neuvillette could feel his usually composed aura falling down. He grabs you by your breast, lifting you up so that your back is finally pressed against his front.

"I am not like this," His dick now drills into your hole at an immensed speed while both of his hands has switched to fondle your breast. "We are in the High Court of Fontaine, where trials are held everyday. And yet here I am, ruining you on the very own chair that I sit to deliver those trials." You didn't care what he was saying, choosing to bounce on his dick like a slut, chasing after the high.

"Look at the scale, it's tipping towards my favour." Neuvillette grabs you by the chin to look at the large scale, the main source of power for delivering the final verdicts in all trials at Fontaine. "It's all because of you, that I have desires to take you on my seat, " you suck onto the fingers that Neuvillette had inserted into your mouth. " It's all because of you, that I am fucking you in this empty court," You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, your gonna-

"It's all because I like you, that's why Im losing my composure everyday. The desire to claim you is greater than the desire to act like the proper Chief Judge."

You let out the sinnest mewl when the knot releases, milking the judge's coat like a waterfall. It wasn't long before you feel warm ropes of cum painting your walls, filling your womb with his seeds.

"You are definitely guilty, Y/N."

[charliehoennam]

belong to no one else.

a/n: tagging @gyllenflower by request. sorry if i forgot anyone! i can't believe i'm writing for this man but at least i can torture him a lil.

summary: rusty can't stay away from his mistress and convinces her to continue their affair.

pairing: rusty sabich x f! reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut, ball busting, oral sex (m vs f, both ways), rusty is pathetic, language, cheating (should be obvious, i mean, it's rusty?)

SHARING IS CARING, REBLOG IF YOU LIKE IT

"Are you stalking me now?" you question keep your voice low but firm. 

"I'm not stalking you. You won't return my calls. You ignore my texts-"

"So you decide to follow me?" 

"I just wanna talk."

Looking at Rusty's pleading eyes, you can almost taste the bitterness that builds when you realize you can't say no to him. 

The subway rattles at its usual speed, gently swaying you both side to side as you stand near the door with your back to the wall. 

Rusty stands just in front of you holding onto the metal bars that help keep his towering frame upright.

"There is nothing to talk about, Rusty. And you know why," you say glancing at the band on his ring finger on the hand that clings to the metal. 

He follows your eyes just as he opens his mouth, about to speak, but he doesn't. He just sighs, breathe fanning lightly against your face as you watch his knuckles turn white, gripping as if the ring were making him uncomfortable. 

He doesn't have any excuse. There is no promise he can offer. He's stuck in a complicated marriage that he isn't sure he wants to end. But there is one thing he's sure of. 

"I miss you." 

His voice is low enough for you to hear over the metallic rumbling of the train. The closeness of his stance makes it impossible to avoid the pathetic gaze he casts down at you. 

His fingers graze against yours, testing your boundaries. 

"I know you miss me too."

"Oh, you do huh? How do you know that?"

"Because you haven't slapped me across the face."

"You would like that, wouldn't you?"

The corner of his mouth twitches as recollections of your intimate moments flash in his head. 

"I mean it though... I really do miss you. I don't wanna end this. Just, please. Just be with me. I want you. I need you." 

You turn your head, trying to resist his pleasing blue eyes. He takes advantage of the moment to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His finger trails down your jawline, tracing it's way until his fingers rest at your chin. 

Turning your head, he stares at your lips and grazes the pad of his thumb over them. He's still holding himself back from mauling them in a kiss because of the people around you. 

"Do you miss me too?"

The touch on your lips makes you think back to the first time he slid his thumb into your mouth. It became a natural instinct after that first time to suck his thumb into your mouth, licking and twirling your tongue around the tip. A glimpse into what you would do to his cock. 

You're not emotionally attached to him as he is to you, but God do you miss fucking him. You'd be lying if you said he wasn't the best fuck you've ever had. 

Lightly rocking back and forth, your lips part to welcome his touch. 

"I'll take that as a yes" he smirks. 

"Don't get cocky" you scoff half smirking back as you push his hand away when the train slows at your stop. 

The door open, cold air flooding into the trains. You step off, but notice Rusty doesn't follow you. 

"Are you coming out or what?" 

Like a lost puppy, he smiles to himself and exits the train following you all the way back to your high-rise apartment building.

With clacking heels, you walk side by side under the rumbling clouds. You weave through the crowd of people rushing to get to their destination before the start of the rain that has been rolling in and threatening to fall for the past hour. 

In contrast to the others, you and Rusty walk alongside one another with quiet smiles as your fingers twitching with anticipation and playfully grazing at your sides.

Rusty can’t help the wide grin when your fingers nestle themselves in the spaces between his, fitting perfectly like two puzzle pieces. The smirk and the cocked eyebrow on your face when you glance at him warn him to not ruin the moment with his emotional attachment.

Walking hand in hand, you reach your apartment building and Rusty holds the door open for you to past through first. Every step towards the elevator, your hearts race.

The undeniable tension builds with every red number above the metal doors as the elevator slowly makes its way down, counting down the seconds to the anxiously awaited private refuge from the world to do what you do best in the shadows.

Finally stepping onto the elevators, adrenaline surges through Rusty’s veins. As the doors begin to close, you smirk at him as he quickly crashes his lips against yours pinning you to the mirrored wall.

You moan welcoming his dominating tongue into your mouth, dropping your bag to let your arms wrap around his neck.

Rusty’s impatience holds your knee to his hip to greedily explore the treasured tender flesh he’s ached for that leads from your thigh to your ass.

His large hand kneads your cheek under your pleated skirt, anxiously tugging at your laced panties to prod at the growing wetness of your pussy from behind.

Rubbing your back up and down to force you close to him, you tug at his blue suit aching to tear the elegant suit right off his body. As the ravaging kiss continues with labored breaths and hungry moans, you pull the dark blue tie out of its neat confines of his waistcoat, forcing his tall frame to tower over you.

Your hand, with a mind of its own, slithers down to his hardened and clothed cock while the other tightens its grip on the tie. The silk fabric constricts around his neck as you grin darkly at him, taking in the beautiful disheveled effect his addiction of you has on his perfectly neat and sharp appearance.

Pulling his neatly tucked in shirt out of his pants, you replace it with a hand, palming his hard cock as you squeeze his balls just tight enough to remind him you're the only one that knows how to toy with them just the way he likes it. 

"You missed having me play with these, huh?" 

He nods as he groans at the welcomed pain, jaw clenching from the constricted blood pressure caused by the tie which has his dick poking at your abdomen.

"Use your words, Rusty." 

"Y-yes. Yes, I fucking missed it so much" he grunts out staring at your swollen lips.

With a satisfied grin, you let his tie go just as the elevator conveniently dings to announce the arrival to your floor. You place a gentle kiss to his panting lips and push him off to grab the dropped leather bag and strut towards your door.

The dull afternoon drizzle patters against the panoramic glassed walls of your living room. It’s all just as he remembers. So familiar like he knows every nook and cranny just as well as he knows your body, like a map to the ultimate high he can never stop chasing.

Holding himself from pouncing on you like an animal in heat, he shifts his weight from one foot to another as you calmly set your bag and keys on the console by the door. You make him wait as you both shed the heavy coats from your bodies and hang them on the wall.

Rusty makes a point to stand right behind you as your hands meet on the coat hangers nailed to the wall. You can feel his cock pressing into your ass as his other hand pulls your hips to push your ass against him, desperate for friction.

Turning your head, you let his lips find their way to yours. Your hand, resting over his hand, guides his palm to your breast. He instinctively kneads at it with both hands.

You moan threading your faces into his neatly styled hair to make a mess of it as you grip and pull at it, forcing him off of you in your cruel dance of catch and release.

With a snickering smirk, he moves to kiss and nibble the sensitive spot on your neck he knows weakens not only your knees but your defenses as well.

Your head lulls back against his shoulder, inviting him closer as his hands don’t bother to undo the buttons of your blouse. He tears it open to reveal the beautiful sight of your round breasts perfectly hugged by your lacy black bra.

His eyes trail down your chest and narrows at your breasts as he quickly slides the blouse to the floor.  With his teeth scraping at your shoulder, eager to taste your sweet flesh, he haphazardly pushes the skirt down your thighs so you wiggle your legs to let it pool around your ankles.

Keeping your pumps on, you take him by his tie and lead him down the hallway towards your living room. He watches your hips sway left and right, ass bouncing with every step.

You smirk up at him as you sit and cross your legs on the luxurious velvet couch that cost you hundreds and a couple extra to get it up to your high-rise apartment.

He’s always admired that about you. The powerful position at work, the financial independence, the freedom to dominate and possess whatever you wish like a goddess beckoning only the best.

“Undress for me.”

Cocking his head up with a sly grin, his cheeks blush a little as his eyes stay locked on you. The dull light of the cloudy sky behind you pour over him like a spotlight to your own private show.

He starts with his tie, undoing the knot that holds it around his neck. His eyes shift to your legs as they uncross.

As Rusty’s tie slips from one hand to the ground, the other begins to unbutton the dark blue waistcoat that fits him so perfectly.

His gaze follows your hands, watching them as you slide your lacy panties and bra off. You lean back against the cushions as your legs part, provoking him like dangling a juicy raw steak before a wolf.

His smile drops along with his waistcoat as he stares hungrily at your pussy, watching your hand slither between your thighs to stroke your fingers up and down the plushy folds he can’t wait to kiss.

Rusty tenses with desire and lust and takes a step towards you, but your high-heel foot stops him with its sole to his abdomen, leaving a dirty print against the light button-up shirt.

“I want it all off. Slowly. Don’t wanna ruin such a nice shirt, do you?” you smile evilly.

He sighs impatiently with flaring nostrils, lips pressed into a straight line. He can’t simply not obey you; he can’t break the spell you have over him no matter how desperately he craves you.

His long fingers work each button open, parting the shirt and tossing it aside to God knows where.

You giggle at how his hair stands when his undershirt slides over his head, making him blush as he shakes his head in playful disbelief while he unbuckles his pants.

Eyes quickly shooting to the outline in his briefs, you lick your lips as you continue circling your clit.

“Fucking…” he groans licking his lips as he watches your lips being tenderly pulled at by your fingers.

“You want this, hm?”

“So fucking badly,” he answers as he bends over to slide the blacks briefs off his feet.

As his cock springs free, his hand quickly wraps around to give a couple of necessary tugs.

“No touching. That’s my job.”

You smirk gesturing him to come closer with your finger in a come-hither motion. He smiles taking a step closer as you kneel before him.

Placing sweet kisses, you pepper them up each of his muscular thighs. Your soft hands take the time to stroke them up and down, altering between rubs and gently squeezes. Rusty melts at your gentle care and lets his head fall back when you finally lick a slow line up the underside of his cock.

Reaching the tip, he hangs his head forward to watch your tongue swirl around his domed head, spit dribbling past your plump lips to mingle his leaking pre-cum.

He groans and praises you as his hands gently gather your hair to hold it back for you while your head bobbles on his dick, taking him so easily down your throat.

“Make it disappear huh?” he smiles impressed. Your blowjob skills never cease to surprise him.

You wink up at him and hum, the vibrations of your throat providing a delicious but small touch to heighten his senses.

Rusty watches as you release him with a pop, admiring your smirk as you move lower to take his left ball in your mouth. His grip on your hair tightens. Your lips wrap around him and your tongue licks circles on the sensitive skin.

You chuckle watching him struggle to contain himself as you release him to tease the other side of his sac.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me” he mumbles struggling to stand.

Your mouth alters from side to side while your hand firmly strokes his heavy cock. Taking one ball back in to your mouth, your lips press into him applying more and more pressure until he’s a withering mess, politely and excessively begging to fuck your mouth.

You’re nice enough to let him have some relief from the pleasure-inducing pain by sucking his dick again, this time, with a quicker pace.

You smirk as you pull your head off sooner than he wants just to torture him. Your mouth lowers again and you take other side of his balls into your mouth to repeat the torture by squeezing your lips around him, slowly adding more and more pressure until he’s trembling like a left and whimpering.

“Good boy. You took that well. Want a treat?”

“God, y-yes. Please!” he answers with a shaky voice, releasing your hair.

Standing on your feet, you order him to kneel. He obeys stroking his cock as he stands on his knees, gazing at you like a hopeless puppy waiting for further instructions.

With your hand under his jaw, you let him kiss you hungrily as he tastes his saltiness on your lips whispering how good he is for you.

He nods and smiles pathetically proud of receiving your praise.

“You like my Louboutins? They’re brand new.”

His drop to your perfectly arched feet.

“They’re so beautiful, baby. Just like you. Make you look so sexy.”

“I think so too… Kiss them” you smile darkly.

Rusty wastes no time in questioning your command. He lowers himself on his hands and knees to pepper sweet little kisses over the shiny black material of your high heels.

“So good for me, aren’t you? So obedient. So pathetic” you affirm as you sit down on the edge of the couch.

“Higher now…” he trails his kisses toward your calf anxiously grazing his teeth against your skin as he glances at the goal that sits wet between your legs.

“The other one now” you order and he obeys. He always obeys.

“Higher” you smirk allowing him to reach your thighs.

His strokes become faster as your pussy meets him at eye level, so you demand that he stops touching himself.

When he finally reaches your pussy, he groans eagerly burying his face into the soaked lips. He laps hungrily at them like he hasn’t been fed in months. His warm breath fans over your mound as his nose roughly pokes and rubs at your clit.

Your back arches in response as your hands tug at his hair. Your legs spread in the air and bend when his hands push on the back of your knees to hold you parted and exposed, making more room for himself.

The Louboutins slip off your feet as your toes curl in them and drop to the floor with a thud. Slurping and moaning, he sucks at your clit and licks his tongue around your entrance, delving into your hole to lap at the delicious sweet and salty juice that drips from inside, like licking nectar from a fruit.  

He takes his fingers to glide them up to your clit and roughly rubs them side to side over the delicate nub. You gasp and pant for air, balling your fists into the couch as you repeat his name like you’re speaking in tongues.

Gathering your slick, he slides his index and middle finger into your pussy and strokes at your spongy walls. He pushes them in and out of you slowly at first, tongue working your clit to keep your engine revving.

His fingers bury themselves to the knuckles as he strokes that one little spot that has you coming undone.

“Right there! Don’t stop!”

Obeying your command, he doesn’t stop until you finally cum on his mouth and hand, grinding against him to ease yourself down from your high.

Finally satisfied, you smirk as you pull at his hair to lift his head and crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on his mouth. His wet fingers press against your cheek as he holds your chin in his large hand, hungrily devouring you.

Standing in front of him, his cheek presses against your abdomen with sloppy open-mouthed kisses as your bare foot rubs against his hard cock. He knows what’s coming and he’s bracing himself for it, unable to contain his excitement as he holds his cock against his abs. He moans as the dorsal of your foot caresses his balls, tapping against them repeatedly.

“You ready for it?” he nods excitedly looking up at you as your fingers comb through his hair.

With a shift kick to his balls, he groans and hisses from the pain cursing at how good it feels. His broad shoulders twitch and wither as he curls over and regains himself, while your foot rubs gently against his cock to soothe his pain.

“Such a cute boy for me. You took it so good, baby. Think you handle another, hm? Just a couple more and I’ll let you fuck me. Three, and I’ll let you cum in me too.” 

You smirk evilly as you wind your foot back for another kick. His groans echo throughout your apartment. The pain from your kick has his chest heaving madly like he's just run ten miles. His hands squeeze the back of your thighs as he curls over, resisting the urge to cum on your floor. 

With his nose nudging at your mound, taking in your sweet addictive scent, he places kisses over gratitude on your pussy, thanking you for making him feel so good. You chuckle at his pathetic whimpers, hugging his head against your crotch. 

The third kick lands again and he yelps through gritted teeth as he violently strokes his cock. 

"Don't cum just yet. Just one more and you can do it inside me. Don't you want that?"

"God, baby, I want it so fucking bad. Can't wait to get my cock in ya" he whimpers. 

Panting and trembling, he braces for the last kick. slightly stronger than the others, he keels over with a hand on the floor as he snivels, eyes brimming with tears of the pleasure that burns through him. 

You bend down to rub his back and ask if he's ok and if he wants to stop. 

"Fuck, no" he mumbles lifting his head to capture you in a fervent kiss. 

Letting him dominate you to have his way, since he's earned it. he pushes you back onto your living room rug. Rusty aligns his aching cock with your holes and pushes it inside you, filling and stretching you with that deep burn that you've missed so dearly. 

His thrusts are hard but slow at first, craving to feel every ridge of your welcoming walls.

With his hand on the back of your head, he blankets you with his large silhouette and fucks you slowly.

He's missed this so much. The hug of your drenched pussy, the arousing soreness on his balls, the teeth bumping kisses, the echoing wet slaps and the vulnerability you can only share with each other.

He wishes he could stay with you. He wishes he could make every second last forever as if your pussy could make time stop.  

[pedge-page]

Ahhh asking again!!!! I love and laugh about Joel and Preggo. What if she wants Joel to prepare the nursery? They go to pick out paint ….she says needs to see it in the room, he paints sample areas. ……she picks one, he paints it and then she cries because she hates it and accuses him of doing the wrong color. Please change this prompt anyway and every way! Basically about preparing nursery to her whims. Or he does everything and she has changed her mind.!!!!

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife - Oh the Colors You'll Choose

Warnings: girlie is up to her usual tactics, slight Jealous!Joel at the end

- - - -

One thing Joel’s really excited about with the baby on the way is getting to design the nursery. Finally having an excuse to throw away your old high school gear you haven’t touched in over a decade, the clothes that had no style in the modern era, collecting dust in bins, all the Christmas gifts you never were going to use just stocked up in the spare bedroom for storage. Now the room was vacant. Tarps and old sheet cover the carpet, walls primed and prepped for the first round of paint.

Joel picks out a nice pink neutral tone, something perfectly lovely for the little girl he’s about to have.

You barely glance at the swatch in his hand, just nodding and waving him off as you lie sprawled eagle in bed, trying your best to cool underneath the high speeding fan.

He’s spent the entire afternoon of your nap getting the room partially painted. The whole time, giddy with the idea that he’s going to be changing diapers in here, reading stories, cradling his baby’s soft small head and walking around the room to get her to sleep—

He finally notices you patting gently into the room, just awoken from your fresh nap. He’s halfway to an excited smile until he sees the absolute wrought look of disappointment all over your face. 

"What, what's wrong?"

There’s no hint of happiness or enthusiasm in you. You survey the walls disappointingly, crossing your arms with a disgusted look before walking out without a word. 

Joel’s not going to let this room be the thing that upsets you—no you’re going to love it, he’ll be damned sure.

He shows you 5 more colors—all ranging from pinks to purples and—

“Does it have to be pink? Why are we forcing the gender thing on her?”

“I mean, I don’t know. Doesn’t have to be. Thought maybe could be something sweet…” his voice trails off as you make a disgruntled frown. 

“We can pick a neutral color if ya want.”

Joel pulls out a few colors he had stored in his bag—some greens and blues, grayish whites and browns.

You make a firm decision on one—the light green forest color. It’s bold, but it seems to make you happy.

Until he starts painting:

“No! No it’s not right.”

Joel sighs. “What’s not right? This is the one you picked!”

You shake your head again. “The light from the window makes it look so bland. It just doesn’t look good.”

“I can’t control the sun…”

“You’re doing it all wrong, Joel.”

He wipes the paint off of his beard. It’s been 2 days of painting now, much longer than he expected.

He lays 5 different colors on the walls in tiny samples; this time you’ll be able to see the one exactly as it will be when he finishes painting.

You walk back and forth, finger pressed to your lip in hard concentration. “Oh! This one!” You exclaim: an orange tan.

“Are you sure?”

You nod.

He starts doing the color, now halfway through the room, fumes suffocating his brain, but now you’re telling him it's just not as pretty as it looked on the swatch. 

“Why are you painting the wrong color!”

“It’s the same one!”

“No it’s not!”

You've now moved on to the next color of the rainbow on your hit-list since he somehow fucked orange up. He lays out 10 swatches of blue. All of which look the same to him but none appeal to you. 

“Can we just pick one and settle on it? This much paint on the walls aint good. Gonna take forever to get the smell out.”

“Joel, this is going to be our BABY’s FIRST COLOR she'll associate with. It has to be perfect for her! She’ll be stuck with it forever!”

He raises his eyebrow unconvinced.

“…Until I decide to change it again,” you add plainly. “Or until she’s old enough to decide for herself. Do you really want a tween picking out her own bedroom color to haunt us?”

He huffs but agrees.

You are eating a banana just as Joel's finishing laying on the neutral ocean blue throughout the whole room. You had come in twice already but hadn’t made a peep either time, so maybe this one is the one—

 "Oh my god!" You exclaim. Joel nearly falls off the latter with worry that the baby somehow just dropped from between your legs until he sees you point to the banana peel excitedly. 

His shoulders slouch in a ‘you gotta be kidding me’ sort of way. His back fucking hurts. Hands cramped up. There’s gotta be a permanent strike of white in his hair right now. He drops the paintbrush, splashing it into the now wasted paint can of blue before taking your peel and walking out the room. Of course, its already nighttime, so the hardware store is closed and he’s gotta wait till morning to get the new paint.

The next day, he's rolling on the new yellow.

You wrinkle your nose disgustedly. "Ugh what the fuck is this?"

"It’s the banana!"

"No it's not! This is so much darker!"

"BANANAS GET DARKER EACH DAY. YOU WANTED ME TO MATCH FROM A HALF EATEN PEEL.”

“It sucks. You've put this god awful yellow in my mind now I don't want anything like it.” 

You turn around and survey the room, repulsed by its bright wrongness. Joel opens his jaw wide and silently screams into the air, pounding his fist into his head angrily without letting a sound out.

You turn around just as he drops into a neutral, emotionless demeanor.

The lightbulb in his brain flickers on. “You know what? I got an idea."

-

Joel takes you to the Home Depot.

"Hey Rick,” he says towards the man behind the paint counter.

Rick just chuckles. “Hey Joel, getting another paint? Your wife gonna make me match to the crazy fire in your eyes when you tell her to—“

Joel clears his throat when you waddle quickly to hold his hand like a child eager to stay close to dad in an unfamiliar land. Your mouth agape as you stare up at the ceiling and around all of the endless aisles of lumber and tools. Luckily, you were too stunned to hear Rick’s passing words.

"Why is it so big here?” You ask innocently. “And woodsy. And ... orange."

Joel grabs your hand and plops you in front or the swatches wall.

You gasp, “THERES SO MANY OPTIONS,” eyes sparkling and wide like a child in a candy shop.

"Pick a couple to take home, and then we're getting the paint for it. Ok?"

"How much are they?"

"They're 40 bucks each—“ Joel starts.

But Rick, the ever so helpful manager to anyone but Joel, buds in. “The swatches? You don't gotta pay for them darlin,” he winks.

Joel gives him a dagger look, but you smile so wide and start slipping swatches like they’re on fire.

Joel shakes his head and grabs some more rolls and brushes since his are all worn out. By the time he returns to the swatch wall, all 23 seconds later, you’ve got a giant of colored papers pile barely held in your hands of every single color. “We should check them all!”

He grits his teeth but bares a smile.

-

Joel tapes every single swatch on the wall at home. You walk and study each one. Holding one eye closed, tilting your head to the side, putting a different color next to it. You couldn’t see him pretending to bang his head against the wall on the other side of the room as you debate for an hour now.  

Finally, you stand back and take in the entire multicolored wall. “Oh thats it! It’s all of them! We make it like rainbow ombre in like little squares.”

"I would have to buy a can of every single paint. No. We're not doing that. We said one color only.”

"They can't give you like little cups of each color?"

"No.”

"That's dumb. What a scam!"

You wonder downstairs for more inspiration. Something homely. Something familial yet not too obviously Joel or your own style. You come across an old picture of young Tommy and Joel standing in front of Joel's truck, that had just been passed down by their dad. Their smug grins and messy hair, wrinkled clothes and slung arms around one another make you feel pleasantly at ease. Your baby needs to have that same sense of security, youth, and warmth. You study the photo a bit longer, and then it hits you. 

-

Joel wakes up, and the first thing he subconsciously does every morning is to reach for you on your side of the bed until he’s in contact with your warm body. It puts him at ease, touching you, knowing you’re there and he’s home. The only times you wouldn't be there would be if you were in the bathroom. But as he looks through heavy eyes, the bathroom door is open, dark, unoccupied. He furls his eyebrows back to your cold, empty side of the bed.

The sound of his truck rumbles distantly through the open window, growing closer and squeaking to a hault in the driveway.

He throws the blankets off and rushes down the stairs 2 at a time just to see you hauling a big heavy paint can slung down low with both your hands desperately holding the handle, all by yourself, bloated tummy and all, through the front door.

Barreling to you, he snatches the can from your sore fingers. 

“Are you crazy??? You can’t drive! You can't carry heavy shit! What were you doing—“

"Yes I can!” You challenge back. He sets the can on the table with a loud slam just as you drop his keys in the tray. “I’m not completely helpless, Joel! I can get my own pain and drive my own ... your own truck!"

"Yeah? Go paint the room yourself then, if you're so independent."

You scoff, bemused by his suggestion. “I’m not doing that. That's what I have you for.”

He shakes his head and looks at the new can.

“This better be worth it. "

You smile. “It's the one. Trust me." 

-

Joel finishes lying on the paint. It's a breezy, toned down pinkish salmon. Definitely not something that you would have gotten from a swatch. No, you had this one custom matched, and he can't quite put his finger on why it feels so familiar. And gives him little irksome itch too. 

He’s about to call you up when he hears Tommy greeting you at the front door.

The two of you make your way up the stairs, Tommy with a muffin shoved half in his mouth. When you round the corner, your husband stands in the middle of the room, awaiting your response.

"Well?" Joel asks curiously. 

To his relief, you've got the brightest, sweetest grin plastered all over your face. "It’s perfect. I told you!"

Its worth it--to see the excitement in your face--this is what he was hoping for the whole time. "Thought we weren't doing the gendered color thing?"

you nuzzle yourself under Joel's broad arm. "Well... this one is special."

Tommy nods in agreement "this looks good!" He walks around the room, more so noting Joel's handiwork rather than the choice of paint. It's kind of funny that Tommy almost disappears like camouflage with how closely his favorite shirt matches—

Joel's satisfied grin immediately drops to a shocked frown.

“You made me match our baby girl’s bedroom to Tommy's old ass shirt??"

You nod happily. “Isn't it so good!"

His arms flex angrily across his chest—it’s not good at all. “What’s next, you two havin’ an affair I don't know about,” he accuses between his brother and his wife.

"Joel!”

"Dude!"

"No! We're not painting our daughter’s room after him! This can't be your favorite color! What about every other color we looked at? What about all my shirts?"

Your eyes feel like they’re about to bug out of your sockets for such a ridiculous suggestion. “Plaid????????????" you ask audaciously.

"I got some denim too!"

Just as you two are screaming at one another over who’s shirt to match the room to, Tommy tiptoes backwards out the room quietly while swallowing the rest of his muffin, hoping to snag one more in the kitchen too before dipping.

"...and I'm just to assume our daughter is MINE when you got me painting HIS shirt—“

"I wouldn't be hanging out with your sensitive ass if it WAS his baby, damnit Joel, its just a color, what is WRONG with you—!”

Suddenly, he dips his hand into the bucket and slaps two saturated handprints onto your breasts. 

You gasp, backing away. Two Joel-sized hands in pink are wetly printed onto your large t-shirt, your favorite tee, as you stare down in shock. "You. Did. Not.”

Joel shrugs proudly. 

You grab the wet brush on the table next to you and slash it across his face before he could stop you. 

you try not to laugh, his face dotted in splotches of pink paint dribbling down his whiskers and neck. He rolls his pursed lips before looking at you, a predator smirking at a silly little bunny who’s just been put herself in a trap. 

".... This stuff comes off clothes...  right..." you ask hesitantly, backing away as he grasps the roller slowly and strides toward you.

You make a run for it, but the big belly doesn’t let you get far as he closes the distance and snatches you. You squeal out, giggling in his arm arms as he rolls and pats paint all over your clothes and body, the two of you getting soaked by the thick pigment. He pulls you around and smashes his lips for a heated kiss. Pink-colored hands rub paint all over your cheeks and chin affectionately. You rub your nose along his bridge, grinning at one another, covered in the glossy acrylic without a care in the world right now.

You peck his lips once more. “It’s a good color on you too, ya know…” 

He rolls his eyes. “Tell ya what. We’ll keep the room like this since ya like it so much. And next time I see Tommy, I’m bleaching that shirt. Win-win.”

“Deal.”

- - - -

Taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop

[babies-blues]

jealousy

schlatt gets jealous of your care for ted

contents; fingering, high ted, lc! timeline, ‘slut’ and ‘whore’ used once, jealous schlatt, fear of being caught, almost entirely smut

authors note; i tried my best please don’t kill me

you’d been looking after ted while he was basically half-dead on the couch in the misfits house. you’d been giving him water, blankets, turning the lights off and on when he’d asked you to, etc.

one person, however, wasn’t a fan of that.

your boyfriend, schlatt.

schlatt watched from the seat across the room, his expression harder than usual. he distracted himself with his phone, glancing up every now and then and watching you.

he waits until you’re sat down and talking with everyone else until he stands up and pulls you up to your feet, offering you a soft smile

“having fun with ted, are we?” he whispered into your ear before making up some excuse and pulling you away to the bathroom.

“jay, what are you-“ he interrupts you by closing the bathroom door and pressing you against the wall.

“you’ve been all over ted tonight, the fuck’s that about, hm? he can handle himself.” he whispers harshly into your ear, his thigh wedged between your legs as he undoes the button and zipper on your jeans.

“he’s high as fuck, jay…! i was just helping him…!” you try to explain yourself, not wanting schlatt to get the wrong impression.

he responds by shoving your jeans to your ankles, doing the same with your panties soon after.

“keep that shit up and i’ll tell him to keep you, yeah? there’s a reason you’re with me and it’s cause you love me, not because it’s a game, okay?” he brings his hand down and teases your folds with his fingers, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

“jay, it’s not like that, please-! i feel bad for him and im just tryna help-!” he doesn’t listen to your explanation, unsurprisingly.

“when did i ask what you think of it, hm? you’re all over him and touchin’ him. you’re basically begging for his dick-!” he slips his middle finger into you, muffling your moan with a hand over your mouth.

“he has a girlfriend, ja- fuck-!” you cut yourself off with a drawn out whine as schlatt slips his ring finger in, angling the digits to rub against your spongey walls.

he keeps his hand clamped over your mouth so you stay quiet, not wanting anyone in the rest of the house to hear you as he fucks you on his fingers.

“you gonna keep bein’ a whore for ted or are you gonna pay attention to me, huh?” he speeds up his ministrations, grinning as your moans get louder behind his hand.

“gotta stay real fuckin’ quiet so the boys don’t hear you bein’ a slut for my fingers, yeah?” he kisses at your neck and jaw, careful to not leave any marks. “or are ya’ gonna let ‘em know who makes you feel good?”

you whine and moan behind his hand, your hips bucking against his hand desperately as you get closer to an orgasm.

“please-! ‘m all yours, jay-!” he looks down at your face and cocks an eyebrow, amused by the fucked out expression on your face, your eyebrows raised and your eyes squeezed shut.

with a few more powerful thrusts of his fingers, you finally reach your climax and go limp against the wall, your hands coming up to rub your face.

schlatt slowly pulls his fingers out of you, sucking your slick off of them as he helps you straighten up and get decent again. he slides your panties and jeans back over your hips and pats your waist.

“jay, im just trying to help him… he’s higher than the fucking clouds and no one else is helping him…” you explain yourself to schlatt once again, and you notice that he’d finally listened to what you were saying now that his jealousy had subsided.

“fine, toots…” schlatt sighs and pushes the door open for you, patting your bum and letting you walk out in front of him before he joins you.

he sits back down in his previous seat, watching as you take care of ted again, albeit much less jealous than earlier.

“where’d you go…?” ted mumbles out, looking up at you through glassy, hooded eyes. he grips at his hoodie to stop his shaky hands.

“doesn’t matter, ted… have some water…” you rest a water bottle next to him, giving him a gentle smile before looking up at schlatt, your smile widening.

taglist; @anotherfcknschlattsimp , @manticore-fangs (let me know to be added!)

[eashn]

Hunger | Kuroo Tetsuro Chapter 1

Part 2 of The Train's Coming (link to masterlist)

Pairing: businessman!Kuroo x fem!reader

Summary: You're colleagues and you're screwin'

Ao3 Link | Word count: ~2.2k

Tags/Warnings: Explicit smut, friends-with-benefits, Timeskip!Kuroo, sexual tension, dry humping, banter

“Fuck, Kuroo!” you cried, locking your arms and legs around him as he slammed your back against the wall. He ground his clothed cock against your bare heat, groaning as he watched the crotch of his best pair of work pants grow damp beneath you.

“I did good, right Y/N? Waited patiently all day, didn’t I?” His breath fanned heavily across your face as he whispered the words. He pressed feverishly hot lips against the side of your neck, burying his face into your skin. “But I can’t take it anymore—fuck. I need you.” 

8 hours earlier

The morning train into the city was like an airlock between home and work. It was a bridge between the solitude of your one-bedroom apartment and the restless, simmering energy of the corporate world. After all these years on the job—as a sports promoter for one of the nation’s top companies—you’d come to love the hustle and the grind. You thrived on it. And you knew, better than most, how easy it was to lose yourself in the work. 

Perhaps that was why the quiet routine of your commute felt as comforting as it did. There was a unique tranquility in watching the landscape speed past the tinted windows, the suburban condos morphing into towering high-rises as you sped further downtown. Alongside the shifting scenery, you’d feel yourself shift, too: from muted, to expectant, to hungry for the challenge and the spoils of a new day. The train’s low, mechanical rumble was your only company as you transformed. This was your time to clear your mind—to cultivate the razor-sharp focus which made you so good at what you did—and you treasured it. 

Then, he came along. 

“Morning, Y/N,” Tetsuro Kuroo drawled, looking up from his laptop as you took the seat across from him. 

“Hi,” you replied. 

“Ready for the big day?” 

“As I’ll ever be.” 

His white button-up was crisply ironed, as always, but today there was also a suit jacket folded neatly over the arm of his chair. “That’s cute,” you said, pointing at it. “You got all dolled up.” His canine flashed in a crooked smile as he silently stared at his computer. 

You’d been at the company for a couple years already when the Promotional Division hired Kuroo. Quick enough, everyone realized that he was a fucking force of nature: charming, ambitious, and wickedly intelligent, he climbed the ranks faster than anyone you’d seen before, and soon enough, he held the same position as you. You saw a lot of him after that. He was a workaholic. Partnered with him on new projects, you recognized the perfectionism—his need to do more, do better, to prove himself. You had that in common, you supposed. It was the reason you found yourself building easy rapport with him all those months ago, and now, it was why you were glad he was the one presenting the big proposal with you today.  

“Wanna run through the script again?” he asked.

You groaned. “How many more times, Kuroo? You might as well tattoo it behind your fucking eyelids.” 

“Hey, I want to nail this, alright?” He snapped his laptop shut, leaning forward in his seat. “Y/N, if they like this idea, we’re gonna be—” 

“Promoted. Right. You keep saying that—”

“Unstoppable,” he corrected. “We’re gonna be unstoppable.” 

Gold-rimmed irises bore into you. They glittered with anticipation, with intent. You stared right back into them—knowing. Understanding. 

The hunger had crept in. 

After all this time, you’d come to realize just how alike you and Kuroo were. He, too, was married to his work and addicted to the drug that was success. You were both a little bit neurotic in exactly the same way, and you liked that about him. You liked him. 

Yeah, you were fucking—but you were friends too, of course. 

Neither of you had what it took to commit to a relationship right now. You were both prioritizing your careers, and the sex had become a way to release all that stress at the end of the day. So it had always been a casual thing: you went home together after late nights at the office, and Kuroo pounded you into your mattress. You fucked on his kitchen counter in the morning before work. Sometimes you gave him fast, messy head in an empty conference room during lunch break. You were both a bit insatiable. A bit.

But Kuroo was…more than just a fuck-buddy. He was a friend—a real friend. He made you laugh, he bitched about your other coworkers with you, and, more than anything, his ambition continued to inspire you. He understood you on a wavelength that few others did. You remembered the first time you saw him on this train—the first time you met on relaxed terms, outside the office. It was complete luck: you boarded the train that morning, having barely rubbed the sleep from your eyes, and there he was, already seated. You were both cordial at first, you talked work stuff. Then, “I’m so sick of driving to the office,” he’d finally admitted. “I was this close to becoming an actual menace on the road.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, man,” he replied. “Rush hour in this city is insane. How’ve you not lost your mind yet?” 

You chuckled. “Well, I’ve been taking the train for years,” you sighed. “Honestly,” you lowered your voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “this is my way of giving car-dependent infrastructure the finger.” 

You remembered the way he smiled wolfishly at that. “Fuck car-dependent infrastructure,” he agreed. And you spent the rest of the ride talking anything but work stuff: college and the transition to the corporate world. How Kuroo used to play volleyball in high school and the fact that you wanted to adopt a cat one day. Colleagues melted into friends so quickly, and you wondered how you’d ever tolerated the lonely silence of the train ride before. 

Now, here he was before you: brimming with anticipation for the day ahead, when you’d finally hatch the brainchild you’d been creating together over weeks of planning and diligence. There was no one you’d rather have done it with than Kuroo. Together, you really were: 

“Unstoppable, then,” you said. 

Kuroo gazed at you with those gleaming eyes, a smile playing on his lips. You matched him with your own grin. Sunlight flashed through the window periodically, streaking across his face as the train sped along, and you couldn’t help but stare as it happened. He looked beautiful. 

Was it time? Finally? You thought it might be. You’d been waiting for the right moment to ask. And right now, it was perfectly calm and quiet; you were gazing at each other like you were the only two people in the world. It certainly felt right.

You clenched your palms in your lap, working up the nerve to say it. “Kuroo,” you began. “If the board likes the proposal…and if they decide it is worth a promotion—” 

“Not if,” he interrupted. “When.”

“Fine. When.” There it was—that brazen confidence that never failed to electrify you. It made you want to believe that everything would work out, that the odds would always turn in your favor eventually. Right now, it made you feel brave enough to ask the question you’d been afraid of for weeks. “A promotion would mean a management position, Kuroo. For both of us. And…there’s something I’ve been wanting to, um, ask you. In case that happens.” 

His eyes narrowed slightly, in a way that told you he noticed your hesitance. But he didn’t remark on it yet. “Alright,” he replied. “Shoot.”

You swallowed. “What if…what if we try to leverage a position as co-managers? Of the Promotional Division?” you finally said. “I just—I mean, Washijo’s had the job for years and he’s practically senile at this point. We might have a shot at replacing him, if we play it right. Co-Heads of Promotion, Kuroo. And then we could run this place the way we want.” 

His mouth hung open in surprise. He said nothing for a moment. 

“I know,” you blurted frantically, scared you’d laid it on too quickly. “I know. It’s ballsy—and I know we can't afford to make any mistakes in front of the Board, but I just. I have a good feeling about this. And, I mean, obviously there’s no one I’d rather share the position with than you—hey! Don’t smile at me like that,” you snapped, for his lip had quirked up a bit at that last part. “We’re the two most competent people in the whole fucking department, you know that…and we make a good team. At least, I think so. I’ve always thought so. I dunno. Fuck,” you said, feeling your face burn hotter the longer he stayed quiet. “Forget it, Kuroo. I…I’m sor—” 

“Y/N!” 

Your name burst from his mouth like water breaking a dam—like he’d been holding it back this whole time. “Jesus, Y/N. Slow down,” he said. The embarrassment could’ve lit you on fire. 

“What are you sorry for?” he demanded. 

Your gaze snapped to him. That—the crackle of concern that edged the words—that was not what you expected. You expected howling laughter in your face. Or a declaration that both you and your harebrained idea were insane. 

But Kuroo didn’t do any of that. Instead, he made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “You’re incredible,” he said. “You know that?” 

You blinked. “What?” 

“You’re fuckin’—” Before you knew what was happening, Kuroo leaned in and cupped your face in his hands. He hovered mere inches away from you. “You’re unreal.”

There was nothing else in the world right now. Nothing but his warm breath, gusting across your skin. His warm palms against your cheeks. His warm, hazel eyes. He was close enough that you could bump the tip of your nose against his if you wanted to. Or you could lean in and kiss him. 

“Um,” you lisped out as Kuroo smushed your cheeks together. “Thanks. Wait. What?” 

“That is,” he breathed, “an exceptional idea. Holy fuck, Y/N. I’m mad I didn’t think of it first.” 

How did he do that? you thought. How did he manage to make everything okay, every time? He said yes. You could’ve leapt with joy. Now, in hindsight, you wondered why you’d even been afraid to ask him in the first place. You should’ve remembered that he and you were inextricably synced. He’d never have said no. 

“God, I could kiss you,” he murmured, stroking your skin tenderly with one thumb. For the first time this morning, you looked at him properly, without anything else on your mind—not the proposal, not what would come after. You gazed at his fawn skin, always so stark in contrast to that dark, ruffled hair. The smooth line of his throat bobbed slightly as you raked your eyes over him. All of a sudden, he shifted his grip—catching your jaw in one, large hand. 

What are you staring at? he asked with his brows. Electric tension sizzled in the air between you. 

Your gazes met. He had you pinned with that deep, smoldering stare, that look that you knew so well. God, it made you want to burn. 

“Kiss me then, Tetsuro,” you said.

He exhaled sharply. And—

“ATTENTION PASSENGERS!” 

The automated female voice rang out, and you both jolted. “The train will be arriving at its destination in approximately one minute.” You giggled, pulling yourself from Kuroo’s grasp. 

“Well, so much for that,” you sighed, leaning back in your seat. “C’mon. Time to put on that cute little jacket.” You began to gather your things. When you rose to your feet, he was still seated. 

Oh, wow, you liked this.

He was staring up at you stupidly: open-mouthed, with color darkening his cheeks. What a pretty fucking sight, you thought, and you knew what it stemmed from, of course. You rarely said his given name. Usually, he had to coax it out of you—spear you open on his cock until that name clogged your senses and rotted your mind from the inside out. 

“‘S’matter?” you murmured. “Go on now.” 

A moment passed in silence. He rose. His eyes never left yours, and you had to tilt your chin incrementally—up, up, and up until he stood at full height in front of you. He grabbed the jacket and looped his arms into it, slowly. Languidly. The train was skidding to a halt now, whining softly against the tracks, and he caught the upper guard handle to balance himself. You leaned against the armrest behind you. And as the force of slowing velocity sent him tipping gently into your body, you felt it. Rock-hard, brushing against your inner thigh. 

“Your fault,” he whispered in your ear. 

People began filing past you out the vestibule door, but the two of you stayed put, leaning into each other. 

“Eight hours, Kuroo,” you said, letting a grin break across your face. He mirrored it, those catlike canines glinting. “Then I’m all yours.”

Part 2 is coming soon!

Thanks so much for reading!! Requests are currently open. Follow @eashn for more!

[dear-ao3]

Can I ask for a translation on what happened in Vegas?

what didnt happen in vegas!

-carlos sainz ran over a drain cover that was not welded down 9 minutes into the first practice session. it ripped a hole through his car basically (he narrowly avoided getting royally and permanently fucked up by it) and he got a 10 place grid penalty for fixing said car

-toto wolff, the mercedes team principle, said very emphatically that carlos deserved this penalty. carlos did not in fact deserve this penalty because it was not remotely his fault.

-probably out of spite, carlos managed to finish the race above both mercedes cars

-back to practice 1, it was redflagged 9 minutes in after he crashed and it took nearly 7.5 hours for them to fix the track because they had to check all the other drain covers

-practice was already late to begin with and reportedly at 1am ish they kicked all the fans out who had bought tickets because it was "too late"

-tickets btw were over 1k USD

-practice two started sometime around 2am and didnt finish until nearly 4am

-yes, people were driving cars at over 200mph at 2 in the morning, jetlagged to hell and back. idc if you're a professional, that sounds dangerous

-the announcers were descending into madness the whole time and during practice two i think tried to talk about oceans 11 but fucked it up

-there was also the sphere. the sphere was relatively unhinged.

-the drivers didnt get back to their hotels until after the sun rose that day. and they had to race again that night

-oh also it was fucking freezing and when its freezing the cars don't work cause the tires don't warm up and the brakes don't warm up

-tires also warm up best on corners, high speed ones. the vegas track had mostly all low speed corners and really long straights. not ideal

-the pit lane exit was also smack in the middle of a really tight turn. which they would be exiting onto on cold tires with cold brakes.

-also the track looked like an upside down pig

-practice three was normal until the very end when alex albon crashed into the wall. no one was allowed to do practice starts because the session was red flagged and not resumed.

-the most notable thing to happen at qualifying was that both williams cars (which are basically tractors) managed to place p5 and p6 on the grid. especially interesting considering that logan sergeant has placed dead last in qualifying for the last several races.

-also both mclarens were at the bottom. this is not super relevant or particularly interesting but i was upset about it.

-ferrari went p1 (charles leclerc) and p2 (carlos sainz), but sainz had a 10 place grid penalty for fixing his car that had a literal hole through the bottom, so he started p12.

-weirdly, sir lewis hamilton and checo perez also started pretty far down the grid.

-anyway onto the race.

-there were so many safety cars. literally on the first lap the whole back half of the grid rammed into each other.

-then! terrifyingly! lando norris ran over a bump in the track on lap 3 or 4 i don't remember and spun several times before ramming into the wall. he sounded not ok on his radio but he got out of the car. eventually they ended up taking him to the hospital, he is quite fine but it was still a terrible crash

-his teammate, oscar piastri, seemly got possessed by someone or something, possibly lando himself, because he had a very impressive race until mclaren decided to use the worst tire strategy possible (as in, pit him in the last 10 laps to change his tires when this was largely avoidable by all accounts). he could have ended on the podium potentially if they hadn't fucked him up. still, he ended 10th and got the fastest lap and as a result the track record.

-there was also another episode of French Civil War at alpine when they told esteban ocon to stay behind his teammate, pierre gasley, and he said no !! and passed him for funzies

-charles leclerc also got possessed by something, possibly his own bad luck, because he managed to finish p2 after overtaking checo perez on the last lap.

-the same checo perez whos f1 career has been basically dead for half the season

-also lance stroll weirdly slayed

-despite starting high on the grid, both williams managed to finish out of the points

-surprisingly there were only 3 DNFs and 0 red flags

-this is surprising because of all the tire and brake issues that people thought there would be

-unsurprisingly max verstappen won. what was surprising was that he sang viva las vegas over his radio afterwards, especially surprising considering that he spent the whole weekend shitting on the race, saying that the track was terrible, he hated it, and that the fans should burn the place down for getting kicked out on practice 1 day and only getting a voucher in response

-related to that, the fans sued f1 over getting kicked out

-someone thought it was a good idea to put max charles and checo in the back of a rolls and film them driving to the podium. it was incredibly memey.

-there was definitely more that happened but this is all i can remember right now

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Dark turtles living in the penthouse with Cody after freed from Darius hc?

Dark Turtles in Cody’s Penthouse (Headcanons)

A/N: Not a super detailed one, as I need to get up early in the morning. The official count down until I finish my internship😭

Warnings: None🖤💚

The Dark Turtles were surprisingly quiet when they first moved into the penthouse. They had been there before, but none of them, other than Leo, had taken the time to take in the looks and decor of the penthouse.

Leo seemed to be the most affected by the move. He remembered his time in the penthouse, seeing the way the turtles had taken care of him in every room. He seemed melancholy, and for a time Cody was a little worried for him. But as time passed, Leo came to become comfortable in his new surroundings, somehow finding peace with the past.

The one that did the best with the change of surroundings, was Mikey. He quickly adapted, learning how to use the television and Helix console in less than a day. In the beginning, Cody would often find Mikey in front of the television in the morning, and the last thing in the evening, and for a time, Cody had no access to the couch, due to Mikey’s long legs taking up the whole length.

Raph was more mad the first week, his aggressions growing to a point he hadn’t felt in a long time. All these new impressions on him made him feel on edge and nervous, fearing that everything could be taken away at any given moment. But after the first week he realized that nothing was going to be taken away from him, and that Cody in fact wanted him and his brothers to stay. It was incredible comfort to Raph, even bringing him to tears one evening, crying out his feelings of gratitude to Cody.

Donnie almost seemed untouched by the whole ordeal. He found his brother’s over emotional states irritating and eratonal. Donnie was more than happy that Cody allowed him and his brothers to stay in his expensive penthouse, but he did not show it. Instead he would nod gratefully at Cody whenever he was around, doing everything in his power not to cause Cody any problems. The last thing Donnie wanted, was for him and his brothers fuck up such an amazing second chance, after all they had been though with the turtles and Cody. Therefore he spent a lot of time in Cody’s lap, either working on his own thing, or helping Cody out with what he could.

All of the Dark Turtles took over the old rooms of their counterparts, each of them finding a strange comfort in the room, as if they had been in there for longer. As if they had called it theirs before they even moved in with Cody. It was a place they often went to calm themselves down, or just to get away from their sometimes hectic lives. During their first few weeks in the penthouse, that was where they spent most of their time, collecting their feelings and thoughts.

Raph was not much for admitting it, but during his first nights in his new bed, he started to have nightmares. Visions of the past haunting his mind, along with the many pains he had been through. But those nightmares disappeared after Raph had his emotional talk with Cody, finally giving him peace at night.

It didn’t take long for Leo to find Leonardo’s bonsai tree, and without hesitation, he started to take care of it, recounting the words Leonardo had told him back then.

All through the Dark Turtles were quiet during the first few weeks, the moment they started feeling at home, they got loud. From one day to another, they started running up and down the hallways, screaming and yelling, crashing into walls when they were too heavy at a high speed, unable to move out of the way before collision. That had already cost Cody a lot.

Peacekeepers had been a constant after the kanabo clones moved in. Noise complaints, or the inhabitants of the building having something to complain about. There was even that one time the peacekeepers were called, because Mikey had been blasting music out over the city in the middle of the night. People were not fans.

Cody would follow in the footsteps of the original turtles, and take up the clones ninja training from where it was left off, helping them to become even stronger, and using their emotions as a tool to help them move further. It had proven quite successful, even helping the turtles become more calm. Or, as calm as a bunch of kanabo clones could be. Now they at least would cause as much of a noise interruption as before.

Just because they are part kanabo, does not mean that they didn’t work. Bishop had long wished to work together with the original turtles, and maybe even put them on a paycheck. But with the turtles going back to their own time, Bishop turned his attention towards the clones. It took some time, but he finally managed to convince them to work for him. In the end the Dark Turtles saw it as a win - anything to stump Darius or any of his new tricks into the dirt. And then getting paid for it? Amazing!

Turns out that the clones are quite spontaneous shoppers. With a sudden large amount of money in their hands, they were not quite sure how to handle it, spending it on whatever they found interesting. Cody had obviously noticed the large amount of new things laying around the penthouse.

[yandere-kokeshi]

would you be cool with thigh riding for Ghost? with a male or gn reader :) i was thinking like a short oneshot- something quick to get my mind some satisfaction of this man 😭 thanks man, you’re work’s neat!

Warnings: smut; dom ghost x sub reader; sir kink; public sex(?); nickname (kitten, bubba, baby boy, etc); orgasm denial; MINORS DNI!!!!

A/N: ya'll are horny but I respect that! This isn't my best work but I tried :]! This also wants Grammer checked. Sorry!

I also did male reader! The ghost icon belongs to @/yumethefrostypanda

“I want you to ride my thigh.”

You blinked. Twice. Thrice. You felt your face heat up. Your heart beats faster than ever.

What did he just say? No, no. You must’ve misheard him, right?

“Do I have to repeat myself, kitten?” His smooth yet scarred voice stated.

No no, you don’t have to. Heard you clearly.

He nudged your legs apart with his knee, pushing his chest against yours. His hands pinning your wrists against the wooden wall behind you.

You could feel his breath quicken — fanning against your lips in irritation and slight desperation.

“Y’know better than to tease me while I work.” His knee moved carefully, moving upwards; pushing pressure against your tight uniform. Forcing you to let out a slight groan.

You chewed the inside of your cheek, seeing and feeling his face get closer. Meeting his devil-like eyes that were penetrated with lust. Copying the way of the devil.

His lips finally pressed against yours, his hands moving up against your chest, before diving down and unbuckling your belt. Before removing it, he waited — almost waiting for you to hesitate; call off it or simply remove him from you.

But you did the opposite. You wanted to. No, needed this. You treasured it.

Simon pulled from the kiss, growling in the process; throwing the belt into the dark room. He grabbed your ass, squeezing it with his dented nails. Although, he let go and dropped your pants and underwear, kicking them away as he did with your belt.

“Couch, now.” His attractive voice ordered. He grabbed your hips, practically throwing you onto the soft cushion before making you sit on his lap. His hands massaged your legs, before repositioning you onto his now-naked thick thigh.

Lowering himself down to your jaw and neck, he started planting rough kisses across the thick muscles. Licking, pulling, and sucking. Biting and growling like a wild dog in heat.

Your hips started dragging against his leg. Forcing him to watch your hips, and whine — ordering for more attention.

What a baby you were.

“S-imon..” You mewled out, though your speed didn’t slow down nor stop. You were extremely desperate for this release. But you wanted his help.

“Hm. Think again, bubba.”

You whined yet again. Fuck, he knows how to get into your head.

“S-sir, please..” You groaned out. Already exhausted from his slight teasing and rough remarks against your body.

“Hm? What’s wrong, please what?–” He cooed right in your ear, blowing on your earlobe. “–Use your words. You’re a big boy.”

You shakily mumble out your request, feeling your stomach coil in tightness. “Help me cum, sir! I-i won’t act out again, I promise.” You plead out, feeling your cheeks warm up.

He hummed in consideration. Simon wrapped his thick fingers around your cock — watching you gasp when he touched your tip. Though, he also raised his leg higher, making you moan louder than ever.

Now feeling his hands make its way to grip your hips, he roughly pulled you forward, earning a high-pitched gasp.

“Does my thigh satisfy you? Or making people hear you cry out for me?” He teased.

He let out a chuckle when you replied with a groan; a deep laugh that shook you to your very deep core.

“Convince me that you’ll be a good boy and maybe I’ll make you cum, yeah?”

He knew how to get in your head. The way to smash your brain into liquefied filth.

All you could do was nod and listen as you steadily picked up speed. Eventually, finding a good rhythm as your hips rolled effortlessly against his muscled thigh.

While you were whining out, Simon kept massaging your hips, whispering dirty words that kept you going.

Your grip on his shoulders tightened, forcing a hum out of the man.

“Need help, baby boy?”

He took note of your let out frustrated whine, which, he immediately grasped your hips before controlling your speed.

Simon moved down to your jaw, kissing down to your neck, using his hands to guide you. “Such a dirty boy for me. Makin' all types of sounds jus' for me.”

You could only moan out his name before feeling your legs shake with anticipation, which, he took note of. Immediately, graphing your thigh harder to work you closer to the edge.

“Fuck! M' close!” You whimpered out.

He hummed and suddenly slowed his actions, forcing your hips to a stop. He heard you whine — a smirk plastered over his face as his hands traveled against your waist.

You whined out in frustration. “Please! I- need this. Let me cum, sir. Please!”

“Your so pretty when you beg. Let me finish you off, yeah? Bein' a good boy–” He lightly held your jaw, smirking as lust showed in his black eyes. “–Want your reward? Hm?”

You could only nod in pleasure. Before you could react, his hands were back on your hips and started grinding.

Whimpering out, your stomach started heating; you felt woozy, almost like you smelled something extremely strong.

“Look at your pretty cock, so needy.”

You whimpered out. Gripping your hands against his shoulders, you moaned out again. Before resting your forehead against him for more support.

The coil in your stomach snapped.

“Gonna!–”

Your back arched — cock buzzing. Cum spurts all over his thigh, stomach, and hands. Simon arches his thigh, making you shriek.

Huffing in overstimulation, you looked at him and saw a smile. He let out a dry chuckle before gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him as he brought you into a heated kiss.

But, removing himself from you. He grabbed your thigh, leaning into your ear, licking the outside of your shell before whispering.

“Somethin' else down there deserves a reward, right?”

—

My Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

Do not plagiarize, repost, modify, translate or copy my work.

[jimsbeetroot]

Can you write a one shot for Corey? The reader is in the studio with Slipknot. Corey takes screams and reader, his girlfriend, loves them. Reader gives him loving looks. The others make fun of it and tease reader. Corey comforts them (hug,...).

February, 2001.

I was unsure as to if you were requesting a smut. I made it none smutty, but comment and I’ll change that real quick! This is not my best writing at all, I’m trying to get back into my groove, though!

The dimly lit studio was alive with the sound of metal, an almost tangible energy crackling in the air. Slipknot was deep into the recording of their latest album, *Iowa*, and Corey was in his element. His voice ranged from guttural screams to melodic growls, filling the room with an intense rawness that only he could deliver. You were in awe. You always were, but at that moment, watching him so in touch with that realness. You almost wanted to shed a tear.

You sat on a worn-out leather couch at the back of the studio, watching him pour his soul into every note. You marveled at the transformation of the man you loved into the suffering, terrifying frontman of Slipknot.

For you, it was a revelation each time you witnessed Corey perform. The power of his voice resonated within you, sending chills down your spine and igniting a fire in your core. You adored him in these moments, wrapped in a mix of awe and desire. It wasn’t just about his voice or the music; it was the passion he exuded, the way he owned every inch of his space, commanding the attention of everyone around him.

The band was in the middle of recording "The Heretic Anthem," a track that pushed the limits of intensity and speed. Your heart raced in time with the furious drumbeats, your pulse mirroring the ferocity of the music. You were utterly captivated, caught in a trance of admiration and something more primal.

You shifted slightly on the couch, unable to tear your eyes away from Corey. His presence was magnetic, drawing you in with every scream and every breath he took between verses. The rest of the band played on, each member a vital part of the chaotic symphony, but for you, Corey was the focus.

As Corey launched into the chorus, your heart swelled with pride. You knew how much this album meant to him, how much of himself he poured into every lyric and every note. *Iowa* was a darker, more intense journey than their debut, a reflection of the struggles and triumphs the band had faced. And at the center of it all was Corey, baring his soul for the world to hear.

But the bandmates, keen observers and expert teasers, couldn’t let the moment pass unnoticed. Between takes, Joey Jordison grinned mischievously and pointed at you. "Looks like someone's got it bad for our scream king over here," he joked, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. The others joined in, their laughter infectious and loud, echoing off the studio walls.

Mick Thomson leaned over his guitar, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, you should see her face when Corey hits those high notes. Bet the studio isn’t the only place she hears it."

The rest of the band chuckled, their teasing lighthearted but relentless. Paul Gray added, "I think we have a new number-one fan in the room."

Your face flushed a deep crimson, your initial amusement quickly giving way to embarrassment. You tried to laugh it off, but their good-natured ribbing hit a sensitive spot. You didn’t want to be seen as just another fan, caught up in the allure of a rock star. She was there for Corey—the man behind the mask and the music. She was his girl, had been for over two years, and you sure as hell wasn’t planning on leaving either.

Sensing your discomfort, Corey stepped away from the mic and crossed the room with his usual attitude, the teasing giving way to a more sincere energy. He slid onto the couch beside you, draping an arm around your shoulders. The warmth of his presence was immediate and reassuring.

"Hey," he cooed, leaning in close so only you could hear him over the noise of the studio. "Don’t let them get to you. They’re just messing around."

You sighed and looked into his eyes, finding the comfort she needed. “I know,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just...sometimes I feel like they see me as a groupie.”

Corey shook his head, his gaze steady and sincere. “They don’t, trust me. They love you, they’re just- they’re bored and tired and fucking immature.” He gently squeezed your thigh and leant in to kiss your cheek.

Reassured by his words, you felt the tension melt away, replaced by a renewed confidence in her place beside him. You loved Corey, not just as the charismatic lead singer of Slipknot, but as the man who held her close and knew her heart.

The session resumed, Corey back at the mic, his voice a weapon of raw emotion and strength. You watched him again, your heart swelling with pride and affection. The teasing had faded into the background, and all that remained was the music and the man she loved. You were no longer embarrassed, only exhilarated by the unbreakable bond you shared amid the chaos and creativity of the studio.

[heliads]

Platonic imagine request: The female reader is a country singer and best friends with Natasha from Top Gun, and the dagger squad occasionally comes to her gigs. She just got out of a toxic relationship but still needs to get some of the negative feelings out of her system, and her solution to the problem is to write a song and debut it at a gig. I’m not a songwriter, so I’ll have to use a real song, and I choose What He Didn’t Do by Carly Pearce.

i love top gun

masterlist

It’s a Friday night, assignments won’t be posted for another few days, and for once, Top Gun’s very own Dagger Squadron is out early from work. Normally, everyone in charge puts their combined intellect and stubbornness to the test of making sure this never happens, but the weather isn’t hideously hot and humid for once, and everyone still stuck in the buildings kind of wants to go, too.

It’s a Friday night, and strangely enough, the Dagger Squadron cannot be found at the Hard Deck. Usually, this would raise all sorts of questions, but not tonight. Tonight, they’re headed towards something a little more exciting than the usual late night drinks at the usual late night spot. Tonight, they’re going to see you.

There is a group of hothead, ice-cold fighter pilots known affectionately to some as the Top Gun Dagger Squadron and irritably to others as just a bunch of cocky, high-flying assholes. They’ve got their reputations cut out for them, but they don’t care much. When you have your head in the clouds as often as they do, both literally and sometimes less so, you don’t really have the time for inconsistent musings from the general populace. If they want trouble, they’ll stir it up themselves.

The Dagger Squadron, although uncaring about their brand, all care very deeply about their friends. If you don’t get what it’s like to take a mission knowing there’s a very good chance you’ll never come back, if you don’t risk your life for your friends because you know they’ll always have your back, you don’t get it, and you don’t get them. It’s hard to win them over without practice.

There is, of course, one civilian who has all over their numbers on speed dial, and that’s Y/N L/N. That’s you. You were Phoenix's friend first, and since she’s so close to the rest of them, that meant you were their friend, too. They share like that. Jackets, flight tips, and yes, best friends. It all tends to work out in the end.

Besides, you’re special. You’re a star. You’re the one who’s out there at gigs and concerts, singing your songs to audiences who actually know the words. As much as they protest otherwise, when you go out with the Dagger Squad, only one of you gets recognized outside of your usual uniform or attire, and it’s not the kids who usually rattle around in bomber jackets and aviators.

The group of you love hanging out, but between their work schedule and your touring dates, it’s not uncommon to go a month or two without seeing each other, much to your chagrin. No matter the gap between group outings, though, the second all of you are in a room together, laughter is bouncing off the walls and conversations are exchanged at incomprehensible speeds just like you’d never parted.

More often than not, though, the Dagger Squad catches up to you by catching one of your shows and convincing you to get drinks afterwards. It’s a fine plan according to any of you, and although several of that group would insist that they’re not country music fans, you’ve looked out into the audience to see them screaming the words to your songs more times than they would care to admit.

By now, it’s sort of a tradition. This sort of thing has been going on for as long as anyone can remember. The first time around, they all kind of chafed against the idea of using their precious vacation time to go to the concert of some country singer they didn’t even know, but Natasha straightened them all out about it soon enough. What Phoenix says, goes. They’ve all learned that the hard way.

Besides, now the lot of them are friends with her. More than friends. They’re brothers and sisters, the special kind of family you only get by running wild after hours with total strangers who know your favorite drink order and hideout spot before they ever learn your last name.

Tonight, though, you couldn’t be more happy to see them all filing into the club that’ll serve as tonight’s venue. It’s been a rough few weeks, to say the least; bills are due, times always get harder before they get better, and to cap it all off, you finally managed to break out of a toxic relationship. It was the right call to say goodbye, but that doesn’t make it feel any better.

They know all about that, though. In fact, they’ve been beseeching you to break up with the guy for a long time. You took your ex boyfriend to meet the Dagger Squad as soon as you thought you were serious about him, but instead of the welcome reception you were hoping for, all of your friends immediately told you to get the hell out, to quote Hangman directly.

As it turns out, you should have taken your advice. Many heartbreaks, too many second and third and fourth chances, and a great deal of destroyed self confidence later, you’ve finally said goodbye for good. Your ex didn’t believe you when you first told him it was actually over this time, but he’s come to accept this. Blocking his number and getting rid of all his stuff must have sold the message, if not the constant guard of Top Gun pilots outside your house to keep him from trying to get to you again.

At last, your ex has accepted defeat, and you’re finally free. It feels good. That’s why you’re celebrating tonight with a show, and why your friends are here to make sure your wide smiles are real. They are, surprisingly, but you’re glad to see all of them out here nonetheless.

The crowd is just as supportive as your friends. You walk on stage to the sound of thunderous applause; it can be difficult to start as a musician, especially when you lack the significant backing of a parent already in the industry, but you’ve quickly become a household name around here. Hell, just last night someone told you they rescheduled their vacation plans so they’d be able to catch your show. It feels good. You’ve been needing something good like that for a while now.

After playing a couple of your top hits, you reach for the microphone to address the crowd. “I’m super grateful all of you are out here with me tonight,” you begin, “especially because I get to share something with you tonight, a new song. It’s fun to write songs for the good days, but sometimes we have to sing about the bad ones, too. D’you want to hear it?”

The crowd shouts back a thunderous yes, led in volume by your friends from Top Gun. You’re fairly sure that Rooster’s yell could be heard several towns over, a fact that immediately has Coyote and Payback teasing him, at least judging by their playful swats to his shoulders.

You debut the new song to great praise, and, after wrapping up with one or two more of your favorites, are ready to call it a night. You get waylaid by locals and fans wanting photographs, but after that, you’re able to escape out into the cool midnight and find your friends waiting for you by the backdoor.

Phoenix slings an arm around your shoulder affectionately. “Great show, Y/N! Just like always. You totally killed it up there.”

You smile at her. “Thanks, Nat. All of you, too. Thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” Bob assures you, “how could we not?”

Hangman chuckles. “I don’t think wild horses could drag Rooster away from one of your gigs. I’d ask if you heard him yelling, but I think it would be physically impossible not to.”

You snort. “Oh, trust me, I did hear him. I think the entire state did.”

Phoenix laughs as well. “That’s Bradley for ya. He’s completely crazy about everything.”

“I’m literally just being a red-blooded American boy,” Rooster argues, pretending to puff up his chest and flex aggressively towards Hangman, “What more could you want from me?”

Fanboy snorts. “If Cyclone heard you say that sentence aloud, I think he’d shove you off the aircraft carrier himself.”

Rooster rolls his eyes. “He’d do it if I didn’t say a word, too. Cyclone just likes getting mad.”

None of you can argue with this. You’ve had the privilege of meeting this particular Top Gun commanding officer before, when your friends had insisted on dragging you to the base so they could give you a personal tour. The group of you had run into Cyclone while you were looking around– quite literally, actually, Fanboy was walking backwards down a hallway and gesturing animatedly about some fact at the exact same moment Cyclone was emerging from his office– and you’d had quite an interesting first impression, to say the least.

Cyclone doesn’t hate you, though, surprisingly enough. This might be due in part to Phoenix immediately introducing you as Y/N L/N, legendary country singer, which isn’t entirely true but kind of close enough, or so she claims. Funnily enough, the excuse worked. Cyclone wasn’t mad at them for bringing you without proper approval, and he actually eased off of them for a while. Rumor has it that Rooster was working late one night and heard the sound of your debut album playing in Cyclone’s office, so maybe you have a concrete reason as to why.

You have, of course, only used the incident as proof to further your agenda that you could totally kill it in Top Gun if you ever bothered to give it a chance, much to the chagrin of your favorite pilots. You don’t need to go up in a plane to prove it, or so you say. Seeing as the best any of them can do to return the sentiment is have Bradshaw go up to a piano and start playing ‘Great Balls of Fire,’ they simply have to live with it. You love it.

Hell, you love all of it. This life, this crazy life of yours. If you had told a younger version of you that you’d be spending your nights playing sold out concerts and hanging with a group of the best fighter pilots in the country, you wouldn’t be able to believe your own words. Still, though, it’s true. It’s hectic and messy and utterly chaotic, but it’s more fun than anything, and it’s yours.

Up ahead, Coyote shouts that all of you have to get a move on if you want to get to a nearby bar before all the booths are taken up. You and your friends pick up the pace, sprinting through the inky night. Up ahead, bright pinpricks of stars wheel overhead, occasionally interspersed with scarlet flashes of aircraft, and you think to yourself:  this is exactly what healing feels like. Someday, someday soon, you’re going to be okay. Maybe even tonight.

top gun tag list: @luckyladycreator2, @atarmychick007, @ramenyul, @mayfieldss, @nonsensical-nonce

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

Hey there Slug! I hope you ain't too buys and might have a lil fun with this one! Of each individual character, what are your respective favorite songs of theirs and why?

This is an easy ask to answer, so I'mma clear it from the pile and get to some older ones eventually.

I assume you mean solo songs only, right?

Under a cut for length because there are a bajillion boys in this series

Ichirou: I like his VA's rapping work in just about everything; he's really solid. Stage Ichirou also has a youthful quality I appreciate a lot, but of the main series songs... probably Break the Wall. It's high energy in a fun way. It also ties into a creative project I've been chewing on for years that's near and dear to my heart, although I'm not sure if I'll ever put it to paper and share it anywhere.

Jirou: I think Jirou's VA has a very pretty singing voice, so I like his softer songs. In general, I admire the "softer" aspects of Jirou's character and think that's where he shines best. So probably School of IKB, although I adore his choruses in Re:start.

Saburou: Requiem. I'm very, very, very into things that commit to being over the top and goofy, and I also enjoy combining classical and baroque elements with other genres. What's not to like here?

Samatoki: Gangsta's Paradise. The high speed rap is technically compelling. I generally appreciate v. fast rap since I enjoy learning and singing them. If the stage plays count, I really enjoy the emotion Samatoki's stage actor brings to Come Back to Me.

Juuto: ...There is some interesting text in the Personality section of Juuto's wiki page. (I have it pulled up to quick reference the song lists.) If anyone with wiki edit powers is reading this, you may want to clean that up... Anyway, I feel like they give Juuto great background music in just about every song, but Uncrushable takes the cake for me. I really like the BG music in that.

Riou: Move Your Body Till You Die, hands down. Goofy as fuck. Also, great workout music.

Ramuda: I find his main voice pretty grating, and his usual styles of music aren't my favorite in general. So Ramuda songs don't do a lot for me. I appreciate Pink Colored Love for plot reasons, though.

Gentarou: The slower Hypmic songs rarely do a lot for me, but I found myself enjoying Yume no Kanata a lot. Not sure I know why, necessarily...

Dice: 3$EVEN was one of the first songs I really enjoyed in Hypmic, and I still like its high energy today. In general, I'm impressed by Dice's VA's rapping ability and appreciate his parts in group songs a lot.

Jakurai: Like I said earlier, I'm not usually a fan of slow songs, so none of Jakurai's solos or duets have ever stood out to me. With that being said, I think Jakurai's speech style and slower rhythms makes him more fun and easier to translate w/ full rhyme and rhythm than many other characters. Like I think Labyrinth Wall would be fun to do a full cover of with syllable matching rhymes and line length while simultaneously trying to stick as close to the core meaning and tone as possible.

Hifumi: Both Champagne Gold and Don't Stop the Party are high-energy bops and great for working out. Slight preference for the former. I also really like his singing voice in group songs.

Doppo: Doppo's angrier verses in group songs are fun, but I'm especially fond of BLACK OR WHITE. In particular, I enjoy the DOTAMA cover. I'm a big DOTAMA fan for both his lyrical strength and considerable rapping chops. He's got a lot of songs that are really punchy and angry in this exact vein, and I love throwing on a playlist of his stuff while grinding out tedious work projects. Hahaha. Just rapping along "I don't want to work. I don't want to work. I don't want to work. BUT HERE I AM, WORKING!!!!" furiously under my breath.

Sasara: Comedian Rhapsody is really fun. This is another song I would love, love, love, love to try and do a full translation w/ preservation of rhyme/line length/jokes. Not for sharing--at that point it's just kinda showing off--but it's fun to chew on bits of it when I have moments of free time.

Roshou: Like most of the slow song characters, Roshou's solos aren't my favorite. I guess I prefer Under Sail to Own Stage for its background music.

Rei: All of Rei's songs are wild to the point of me liking them for the goofiness. If you commit to the bit, I'll enjoy it 9 times out of 10. Doesn't matter what the bit is. Shiro to Kuro is probably my favorite. LOVE the "heh heh we are up to no good" NPC villain energy of that song. But also, shout-out to his singing in Enishi, even if it's nigh-on intelligible to me. I love the hell out of Enishi in general.

Kuko: The king of goof himself. Sou Gyaran BAM is probably my favorite, but I am--to some degree--into virtually every song he's in.

Juushi: Wow, I'm listed as a source on this wiki page, lol. Anyway. Juushi's aesthetic as a whole isn't my cup of tea, but I have a soft spot for Moonlight Shadow, because the first two times I heard it were on Spotify shuffle while I just so happened to be scrubbing a toilet. So for a couple months after, I would put Bad Ass Temple on every time I cleaned the bathroom. Hahaha.

Hitoya: One and Two, and Law is so fucking goofy. I adore it. The live version with the airhorn? Chef's kiss.

Otome: Fuck it, let's do the ladies too. Out of all of her musical appearances, I like Just Do It the most. It adds such an interesting strength to her character, and the English portions are done super well.

Ichijiku: Love, love, love her part in Verbal Justice for its strength. This is yet another song I think would be fun to do a hell TL of, and then I remind myself that trying to rhyme "Kadenokouji" in English is a fool's errand.

Nemu: Her singing voice in WINK is nice, but I love her part in Femme Fatale for its energy. "I'm Nemu, and this is my masterpiece" Fuck yeah it is

[lillotus17]

INTERTWINED (Spidermen!ENHA)

CHARACTER INTRODUCTIONS ONE:

SERIES MOODBOARDS

DISCLAIMER:

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE IMAGES/GIFS THAT MAY BE/ARE USED IN MY WRITING. IMAGES CREATED BY ME WILL HAVE MY WATERMARK OR BE COPYRIGHTED! THE MOOD BOARDS USED FOR THIS SERIES ARE ONES I PUT TOGETHER ON MY OWN BUT THE PHOTOS USED ARE NOT MINE!

ALL CREDITS GO TO THE OWNERS/CREATORS!

PLEASE DO NOT COPY OR REPOST MY WORK!

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, STRICTLY FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES.

P.S. if you haven't already, you should definitely check out @artysse (credited) on TIKTOK! If you already have, then you know that it's and ENHA Fan Art Account of Spider ENHA! It's really fucking awesome! Go show some love!

NOT PROOF READ: Apologies for any grammatical errors, my loves!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Y/N and ENHA maknaes have shorter backgrounds compared to hyung line since their spider-men/woman journerys are just beginning. Also note that maknae line don't have their spider powers (yet) because they develop it in series.

PROFILE ONE:

NAME: Y/N L/N

AGE: 20

ALIAS(ES): Madame Webb,

SUPER POWER(S): Clairvoyance, Prescience, Astral Projection, Telepathy, Cybernetic Linking,

BACKGROUND:

Born in the Aokigahara Forest in Japan. Her mother died in childbirth. She was flown back to New York shortly after her birth and put into foster care.

Her mother was in Aokigahara Forest researching a rare spider species. Has no knowledge about her father or other relatives.

She is a paramedic. Very good work friends with Choi Soobin.

Lives in the same apartment building as Sunoo.

Saved Jungwon's step mom from car accident.

Almost ran Niki over with ambulance.

PROFILE TWO:

NAME: Yang Jungwon

DOB/AGE: 16

ALIAS(ES): Arachne, Spider-Boy

SUPER POWER(S): Psionic Webbing and Vibration, Superhuman Strength, Superhuman Speed, Superhuman Reflexes and Increased Stamina, Wall Crawling, Agility, Fast Healing/Regeneration, Precognitive Spider Senses

SUIT(S): Jungwon has two versions. His Arachne suit is black with white detailing forming a spider at his torso. He wears a black mask with a chin strap that covers his eyes. He wears his Arachne suit when he's on his Earth or soloing. He wears his second suit when he's with the guys and Y/N. It's more of his traveling suit, when he's jumping into different universes.

WEAPONS: N/A

BACKGROUND:

Parents are divorced. After the divorce, Jungwon moved across the country with his mom and his dad remarried. Due to unfortunate circumstances, Jungwon was forced to move back in with his dad, and his new family. His dad doesn't pay much attention to him, pretends Jungwon doesn't exists and gives his love and attention to his new family.

A Junior in High school.

Intelligent, kind hearted, and caring. Shy and known to be a bit of a goody two shoes.

Jungwon level headed. He prefers to deal with conflict and prevent tension as quickly and efficiently as possible.

Has the natural qualities of an amazing leader though he may not see it yet!

Does his best to keep Sunoo and Niki from bickering.

PROFILE THREE:

NAME: Kim Sunoo

DOB/AGE: 16

ALIAS(ES): N/A

SUPER POWER(S): Organic Web generation, Camouflage, Skeletal Flexibility, Superhuman Strength, Superhuman Speed, Venom Blast, Wall Crawling, Superhuman Reflexes and Durability and Stamina, Fast Healing/Regeneration, Agility, Precognitive Spider Senses

SUIT(S): Sunoo also has two suits. His original suit is black with metalic grey detailing . He also wears a mask that covers his eyes. He wears this suit on his earth when he, Niki, and Jungwon are patrolling. His second suit, he wears when he's traveling to different universes with everyone else.

WEAPONS: Spider-Like Bolas (grappling hooks with sharp discs)

BACKGROUND:

Lives in the same apartment complex as Y/N, with his mom.

Is very smart- a bit of a science (physics) nerd.

Is very assertive and head strong. Does not like being pushed around or walked over.

Very hard working and is academically inclined/ambitious.

Witty and quick on his feet.

Bickers a lot with Niki.

PROFILE FOUR:

NAME: Nishimura Riki (Niki)

DOB/AGE: 16

ALIAS(ES):

SUPER POWER(S): Psychic Spider-Legs, Superhuman Strength, Superhuman Speed, Venom Blast, Wall Crawling, Flight, Superhuman Reflexes and Durability and Stamina, Fast Healing/Regeneration, Agility, Precognitive Spider Senses

SUIT(S): Niki has two suits. His original suit, that he also wears in his earth only is, blue with red detailing . He wears a red eye mask with goggle plastic to protect his eyes. Of course, his second suit is also a universe traveling suit and it is black and dark purple.

WEAPONS: N/A... (one time he used his skate board to knock out a bank robber once... it broke in half... he was sad)

BACKGROUND:

Rich kid.

His parents are very well off, his dad is a very successful and wealthy businessman. His parents are always traveling out of the country. He is often home alone... or with his housekeeper...

His parents have places on the Upper East and West Side. along with houses in other parts of the country and world.

A bit spoiled and a menace. Stubborn too.

Is very much a soft and caring boy though.

Very curious, a little too much for his own good.

Bickers with Sunoo, is usually the one who instigates the bickering.

Masterlist | Next

TAGLIST (OPEN): @praliliaaa @clara12o @llvrhee

comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

A/N: I apologize for the painfully slow updates everyone! I have a lot on my plate and I'm taking summer courses!

[hairierduballs]

disco elysium ask game

logic: are you more disco or more elysium?

encyclopedia: what's your favourite niche piece of lore?

rhetoric: what's your favourite copotype and political alignment? now, which is the most correct copotype/political alignment? now, which, in your mind, is the most canon hdb copotype/political alignment? explain any difference in as many words as you wish.

drama: who would you be in elysium?

conceptualisation: what further exploration of the world or characters do you want to see most? (in an official or fan capacity)

visual calculas: what's your overall favourite moment of the game? your favourite line?

volition: which skill is the mvp? (and why is it NOT volition) (im kidding you can say volition if you want)

inland empire: if video game Disco Elysium was put in a hydraulic press. if it was bundled and squeezed into a small object that fit in the palm of your hand. what would that look like? what would you do with it, then?

empathy: who is the character of all time? explain.

authority: what aspect of the game are you sooo right about and everyone else is wrong?

esprit de corps: what are your feelings about the RCM?

suggestion: if you could change one thing about disco elysium, what would it be?

endurance: how many times have you played the game? tell us about your first playthrough.

pain threshold: which part emotionally devastated you the most?

physical instrument: which part made you want to smack someone the most?

half light: what has you screaming crying clawing at the walls?

electrochemistry: okay. here it is. which of these old men would you fuck? (non-old non-men also accepted)

shivers: what is...le retour?

hand/eye coordination: what was your most epic check fail? (or success)

perception: what (quote, character, moment) made you feel most Seen?

savoir faire: whats your favourite in-game clothing item? bonus, share your best outfit.

interfacing: what's your favourite aspect of the game mechanics?

composure: would you rather sit on an anthill for an hour or stand in a river of leeches?

reaction speed: (i am simply giving you an ace's high)

[omegaremix]

Powers, 1998.

Powers was the most awesome staff writer and editor I thought we had at the Compass, community college’s campus newspaper. He was considered a true punk with his tall lanky frame, slicked-back black hair, glasses, red cheeks, and leather jacket, and skinny jeans covering up his nerdy exterior. We had punks back in Brentwood but to me they were off-limits as they looked down on our alternative circle of friends and I. Powers was more approachable and accessible as we were on the same team so I got to know him. Eventually, he offered to cut me a tape and here it is.

On a campus with nothing but unchallenging Long Island club music, Top 40 radio, and lots of their shallow follower fan-base still holding on to their high-school mentality, This was iconoclastic. This was during a time when tape-trading and mixtapes (literally) was in full-swing, all before fire-sharing and burning took over. It was also during a time when tacky hot pink cowboy hats, fake blonde hair, and clean cut pop design was put on top of a pedestal forcing to be the best. No thanks.

You have your history-written essentials by The New York Dolls and Johnny Thunders followed by The Ramones, The Sex Pistols, and The Clash. More UK from Crass, Sham 69, and Subhumans U.K., and Anti-Nowhere League. Then the state’s Bad Brains, Minor Threat, and Dead Kennedys. One-timers in speed metal, goth, thrash, even garage that still connected to punk? Yes, they’re there.

It’s been years since I listened to his tape. Looking at the handwritten track-listing, I came a long way all by myself. We played “Born To Lose”, “New Rose”, “Ever Fallen In Love (You Shouldn’t Have Fallen In Love With?)”, and “That’s When I Reach For My Revolver” on Omega WUSB throughout its course. We also played about more than half of these bands on this tape through our other shows and bonus Omega specials. With the wealth of ideas going on, another punk special is way past overdue and this lost tape lights up the entire matchbook. 

What happened to Powers? I haven’t seen him since we moved on from community college. All I know is he’s somewhere in Boston, who should’ve enjoyed the last three Red Sox championships and a Bruins cup. As with all friendships of that era, we just can’t stand each other. We wear each other out, dissipate, maybe a visit or heads-up or two and that’s it. Sick of each other and never to be bothered again. And I’m perfectly fine with that. 

Thanks.

Side A:

Johnny Thunders & The Heartbreakers “Born To Lose”

Damned, The “New Rose”

Sex Pistols “Submission”

New York Dolls “Human Being”

The Ramones “Chinese Rocks”

The Clash “Janie Jones”

Eddie & The Hot Rods “Get Out Of Denver”

Dictators “Faster And Louder”

Buzzcocks, The “Ever Fallen In Love (You Shouldn’t Have Fallen In Love With?)”

Sham 69 “Borstal Breakout”

Boys “Cop Cars”

Crass “Do They Owe Us A Living?”

4 Skins “One Low For Them”

Anti-Nowhere League “I Hate People”

Exploited, The “Dogs Of War”

Real Kids “Do The Boob”

La Peste “Better Off Dead”

Side B:

Subhumans U.K. “Religious Wars”

T.S.O.L. “80 Times”

Mission Of Burma “That’s When I Reach For My Revolver”

Lyres “I Wanna Help You Anne”

Undead “Nightmare”

Bad Brains “Regulator”

Suicidal Tendencies “I Want More”

Misfits, The “Last Caress”

Minor Threat “Think Again”

Descendants, The “Hope”

Dead Kennedys “Terminal Preppie”

Circle Jerks “Back Against The Wall”

Motorhead “Another Perfect Day”

Chaos U.K. “Selfish Few”

Patrick Fitzgerald “Irrelevant Battles”

Dropkick Murphys “Finnegan’s Wake”

New Bomb Turks “Minivan Wages Of Sin”

Electric Frankenstein “Get Of My Back!”