#can’t fuck with you no more I’m fasting

[ghostsangel]

Please please please can I get Ghost being so unhealthy obsessed with a girl who insists she can do everything herself. No she doesn't need help with the gear, nobody ever helped her before. Want to spot her? Fuck off. She's not lifting more than she can handle. She won't take help from anyone and it pisses Ghost off.

Secretly she's just scared of being vulnerable, so when Ghost manages to wrangle her into a situation where all she can do is accept his care (and his dick) he gives her all the treatment she's secretly craved.

omg this is an amazing concept.

simon “ghost” riley x fem!reader

warnings/tags: mdni, smut as fuck, reader is so stubborn it’s insane, ghost is obsessed, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), creampie, squirting

Ghost truly doesn’t understand you.

He’s stubborn, but you may be the most stubborn person he’s ever met. The first time he offered to help you was with your gear the first day on base—you snatched it from his hands so fast his head spun, scowling at him and telling him you could handle it just fine. It’s hard to shock Ghost, but you did, and he was intrigued.

Ever since that day, he’s watched you. It’s almost unhealthy the way his eyes gravitate toward you in a room. It’s almost like you won’t accept help from anyone just to piss people off—like you have a point to prove.

Today is no different. His muscles strain under the weight of the dumbbells he’s lifting, his eyes flicking over to you. You’re on your back, lifting a pair of weights, your lips pursed as you concentrate.

Ghost almost smiles when he watches a new recruit waltz over to the bar and try to spot you.

“I can do it myself—I don’t need a spot,” you hiss out, giving the recruit such a poisonous glare he scurries off without another word.

Ghost sighs, setting down his weights and looking down at you. “He was just tryin’ to help.”

“Don’t need help,” you mutter, eyes flicking to him as you set the bar down. “I’m a grown woman.”

“Just ‘cause you’re grown doesn’t mean you can’t choke yourself with the bar.” Ghost scowls at you under his mask.

You roll your eyes, sitting up and wiping your sweaty neck with a towel. “Fuck off. Haven’t ever had a spot before, and I sure as hell don’t need one now.”

“Stubborn,” Ghost mutters under his breath, watching the way your lips press together in a thin line.

You leave quickly after that, and Ghost can’t help but feel slightly annoyed with you. He understands being stubborn—hell, he’s stubborn. But he accepts help when he needs it. He knows his limits. You, on the other hand, have never accepted help. Well, not that he’s seen.

A few days later, the two of you are paired on a mission. It’s a simple objective—infiltrate the warehouse, get the intel. You’re silent as you hold your gun by your side, peeking around a corner. Ghost squats behind you, waiting for the all clear so you could take out the guards.

You nod at him, and the two of you move forward, shooting at the few guards on the warehouse. What you don’t expect are shots fired from the left of you, a bullet grazing your arm. Ghost grips the back of your uniform shirt to pull you behind a stack of crates, quickly shooting the figure and kneeling beside you.

“You okay?” He asks, eyes searching the bleeding scrape the bullet caused.

You stand, glaring at him. “I’m fine. I had it handled, Ghost. Could’ve taken him out myself.”

Annoyance and anger run through Ghost, his eyes narrowing. “I saw you get shot and reacted quicker than you. That’s why I’m the Lieutenant, and you’re not.”

Your nostrils flare, but you say nothing else before you check if it’s clear before heading to the warehouse. You and Ghost are in and out faster than you think is possible, and completely silent on the heli ride back to base. You grip your gun, posture stiff as you sit next to your Lieutenant. Ghost glances at you and sighs, wanting to speak but not wanting to cause a scene in front of the others.

The heli touches down and you leave before Ghost can get a word in edgewise. He watches you go and shakes his head before heading to Price to debrief and give him the intel.

A hot shower is next—something Ghost needs. He strips, taking the mask off and glancing at himself in the mirror. His eyes rake over his scars—jagged, white lines across his skin from torture, blending in with the circular burns from his father’s cigarettes.

Swallowing, he showers, thinking of you the entire time. You infuriate him, but god—does he want you. Yeah, you’re stubborn and you piss him off, but he’s so enamored with you that he can’t help but fantasize about you every waking moment.

He spends the shower trying to avoid touching his hardening cock to the thought of you, instead taking the time to wash every inch of dirt off him before rinsing and getting out. He dresses casually—black sweats, black tank top, black surgical mask. His baclava and mask are too fuckin’ sweaty to put back on.

He tugs on his boots before heading to the mess hall, bumping straight into you. He looks down at you, watching your eyes harden. The bullet wound is still bloody—you haven’t cleaned it.

“Lieutenant,” you stiffly say.

Ghost tilts his head. “You okay? How’s the arm?”

“Fine. Nothing I can’t handle, Lieutenant.”

His eyes narrow, nostrils flaring beneath the surgical mask. “Have I done something to offend you?”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms in front of you. “Other than save me when I didn’t need saving, yeah.”

Ghost has had enough. He grips your uninjured arm and tugs you inside his room, lips pressed to a thin line. You stumble inside, and he shuts the door behind him, crossing his arms in front of you.

“What the fuck is your issue?” He asks, voice gruff as he glares down at you.

“My problem? I don’t have a fucking problem,” you reply, heart thudding in your chest as you look up at him.

He shakes his head, taking a step closer to you. “You do. You don’t let anyone help you—even if they have good intentions. I took action today to save your life and you’re mad at me for it.”

You say nothing, just look up at him, eyes wary. He looks down at you, eyes flicking to the blood on your arm. “Sit down.”

“I can—”

“That’s an order.”

You huff before sitting down at a chair in front of his desk. He mutters to himself as he digs through his drawers, pulling out an alcohol wipe and a bandage for the wound.

He kneels in front of you, ripping the alcohol wipe open and discarding the trash on his desk. He begins to swipe at your arm, and you wince at the sting.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, eyes flicking up to yours.

“It’s okay,” you mutter back, holding still so he can work. “I’m sorry.”

The words seem incredibly hard for you to say, and surprise flashes in Ghost’s eyes as he tosses the alcohol wipe to the side. He says nothing, just undoing the bandage and wrapping it around your arm.

You clear your throat, inhaling deeply. “I…would rather do everything myself. It’s, uh…sort of like a guard.”

Ghost nods, tying the bandage in place before dropping his hands to his sides. “A guard.”

“Vulnerability scares me.”

His eyes search yours, head tilting to the side as he assesses you. “So that’s why you do everything yourself?”

“It’s not that I want to. I have to. I’m just…scared of opening up to someone.” You bite down on your bottom lip, and twiddle your fingers. “That’s why I don’t get close to people.”

“We’re pretty close right now, don’t ya think?” Ghost asks, smirking at you through the surgical mask.

You roll your eyes, a playful smile on your face. “Shut up.”

He doesn’t miss the way your cheeks heat, and he leans forward, hands resting on either side of the chair. “Don’t you secretly crave for something more?” His voice is deep, gruff.

You squeeze your thighs together, eyes never leaving his. “Maybe.”

Ghost uses his hands to spread your thighs, fitting his body between them. His lips ghost over your neck, mask pulled down, and your breath hitches in your throat.

“Ghost,” you murmur, your fingers squeezing the fabric of his tank top.

“Shut up and let me take care of you,” he grumbles before his lips meet yours.

The kiss is slow and sensual, and a moan slips past your lips as his tongue slides against yours. Your hands move up his chest to his neck, pulling him closer to you, your legs hitched around his waist.

His large hands slip down underneath your shirt, the touch of his fingertips tingling your sides as they travel up.

His lips move to your jaw, skimming down your neck and sucking at the skin. Slowly, his fingertips travel to your covered pussy, rubbing your clit in slow circles through the fabric of your pants.

You gasp, the sound music to Ghost’s ears as he smirks against your neck. Heat flares in your stomach, traveling to your core, and you can’t help but spread your legs, offering yourself to him.

He takes his time, tugging your pants down, taking off your shirt. Removing every article of clothing until you’re bare in front of him. His eyes take you in, his cock already chubbing up in his pants as he admires your naked body.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he grunts, spreading your legs with his large hands. You’re dripping, your pretty slit soaked with your juices and dampening your thighs.

He holds eye contact with you before his tongue flicks out, licking a fat strip up your pussy and sucking your clit into his mouth. He’s slow—taking his time with you. His tongue lazily strokes your clit, flicking and running around it.

You look at him, eyes half-lidded, hand on the back of his head. He groans into your cunt, the taste like heaven on his tongue. Your back arches, moans and whines slipping past your lips as he takes care of you.

You almost don’t notice when his middle and ring fingers tease the entrance of your pussy, and you buck your hips up at the sensation. Ghost laughs softly against your clit, sucking it into his mouth and flicking his tongue against it before his fingers push inside of your pussy.

You’re tight, and he lets out a grunt as he feels your gummy walls try to accommodate his thick fingers. He curls them and feels that little spongy spot that makes your toes curl, and your hips jolt, a lewd moan ripping from your throat.

“That’s it, yeah?” He murmurs, tongue running around your clit. “Feels good, doesn’t it, doll?”

“Yes,” you groan, his fingers beginning to thrust in and out of your tight hole.

Ghost focuses on your clit, picking up speed and licking your clit in fat strides. Your eyes roll back, head tilted back at the pleasure. It won’t take you long to come—it’s been a long time since anyone’s given you this treatment.

You clench around him, and he chuckles against your pussy, fingers working quicker. He isn’t moving them in and out, just thrusting them up and down against your spongy walls.

“Clenchin’ around my fingers so tight, doll,” he says, moving his fingers faster. “Come for me. Give it to me.”

His words push you over the edge and your pussy flutters as you squirt, your release costing his hand and wrist. He lets out a moan, flicking your clit and licking up everything you give him.

“That’s it, good fuckin’ girl.”

You pant, legs trembling as he removes his fingers from your cunt. He works at his own pants, tugging them down and revealing his heavy cock, hard and fat, his balls hanging heavy. He picks you up like you weigh nothing, pushing you against the wall and pushing his cock inside of you.

He gazes into your eyes, groaning as his fat cock stretches you out. Your nails dig into his neck, clenching tightly around him as he buries himself inside you.

“Fuck,” you whine, rolling your hips down so his tip nestles nicely against your cervix.

“Gonna take me so good aren’t you, sweetheart?” Ghost breathes out, beginning to fuck you against the wall.

You can feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he fucks you, your pussy squelching lewdly as one of his hands settles around your throat. You let out a whine in response, his cock brushing against your g-spot and making you see stars.

No one has ever fucked you like this—hard, fast, and attentive. Ghost knows exactly what he’s doing—he’s an expert. A particularly deep thrust steals the breath from your lungs and you let out a moan, clenching around him.

“Fuck, relax, sweetheart. Gonna make me fill this cunt up if you squeeze me like that,” he mutters, gazing into your eyes.

You grin at him, mouth hanging open as he fucks you deep. Your orgasm is already building, an inevitable force from the way he’s taking care of you. You claw at his neck, and he squeezes your throat as he ruts up into you.

“Go on, doll. Come for me. Milk my cock.”

The words make your legs tremble around his hips and your back arches as you come, cunt throbbing tightly around him, juices dripping down his cock onto his heavy balls. His eyes flutter shut and he lets out a long groan, burying his face in your neck as he fucks you harder through your orgasm.

“Want me to fill this pretty cunt up? Hm?” He murmurs, kissing your neck as he fucks you. “Want me to fill you up till it’s dripping down your thighs?”

You moan out a yes, and you feel Ghost’s cock twitch inside of your pussy. He bites down on your shoulder as his hips stutter once, twice—then he’s burying himself inside your pussy, cock throbbing and balls drawing up as he shoots load after load inside of you.

“God, so fuckin’ good,” he pants out, breathing against your neck as he holds you against the wall, cock still buried inside you.

Raising his head, he grins at you. You smile back, eyes searching his.

“Come on, love. Let me clean you up and we can have a cuddle,” he says, gently lowering you to the ground as his cock slips out of you. He has to force himself not to get hard when he sees his seed dripping down your thighs.

“I can—” You start to object.

Ghost tugs you to him. “Shut it. Didn’t you learn anything from what we just did?”

[yandere-yearnings]

Weird thought rant ‼️

I always see in smuts that the MC gets a belly bulge and all that but okay, hear me out, how about MALE belly bulge? I have no idea if that’s possible due to male anatomy but I just thought that would be something

Join the cause and support Male belly bulge 😸

dw nonnie, i'm alr w/ you😌✨ (+ for reference it is possible!!)

anyway, this, for vio bc i feel like it'd be more prominent on him than my other ocs. also as a little smth for all the vio fuckers who continue to dominate the inbox🥰

NSFW under the cut!

“Shit.” Gasping breaths. Intakes hitched harder and harder. “Fuck, please. Please, I’m sorr-”

Vio's words never quite made it out of his mouth, not when your fingers quickly found their place within the wetness oozing from the space between spongey tongue and roof. Teary greens straining to meet your gaze, pleading mercy like what you were doing to him was torture, even though Vio was the one who slammed his ass back to meet your hips each time, without fail. 

“Aren’t you a fucking mess?” The amusement in your voice was palpable, and you knew it got him off, what with the way he keened, forehead pressing to the sheets and hands fisting the fabric as though it could save his life. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard an apology from these pretty lips,” your point was driven home when he gagged, and your spit-slicked digits slipped out just for you to smear it to a shine on them, “best not start now, hm? It might make me wanna take pity on you and then-”

He cried your name, and you watched the muscles in his back ripple as he convulsed. Sweat glistening, mesmerising in the way rain droplets were when they ran races against glass windows, dripping into the divots of sacral dimples you were aching to dig your thumbs into.

“And then who’s gonna fuck you like this, huh?” Your cleaner hand reached out, wrapped around his throat tight enough to choke him, and pulled him up. It drove you deeper into him — had Vio's eyes rolling to the back of his skull, had him clawing at you with almost the same intensity as he moaned. “Fuck you this good,” your hand trailed to his abdomen, where skin stretched thin, “fill you up, make you scream. You know I’m the only one who can do it for you. Only I know who you are, what you deserve. Right, Vio?”

“O-Only you,” Vio rasped, “only you, Y/N. Please.”

“You keep saying that,” you hummed, pressing a kiss to his jugular absent-mindedly. His pulse was fluttering, light and so fast in a way you thought suited the image of delicacy he’d crafted for the world. The way his body molded to your shape said otherwise, unbreaking, despite your efforts to do just that. “What are you begging for? What have I not given you?”

“Everything.” Wisps of blue flurried in your vision, and they were all you could see for seconds after Vio tilted his head back on your shoulder. The ocean, in the colour of his eyes. Lapping waves that undulated and moved towards you. “This much isn’t enough.” Seasalt at his nape, on your tastebuds, becoming addictive. “Give it all to me.” Threatening to drown you. “Y/N.”

For a second you were gone, and then his voice, weighted only momentarily, had you snapping back into reality, into motion, into him. “Greedy,” you tittered, index up his Adam’s apple to tap on his chin and push it down, “can’t you see that I already am?”

“Fuck.” Vio's eyes widened, the slightest bit — you wouldn’t have caught it if you weren’t looking. Your palm smoothed over where his belly bulged, applied a little pressure and watched his pupils blow. It was funny to you that he hadn’t noticed before. “Fuck. Y/N, wait.” Between his legs, Vio's dick twitched, clearly not as spent as either of you had first assumed, not with how it was leaking now. “Wait!”

There are things you’d never know about him; what type of pleasure coursed through his veins on seeing the strain you put on him, if it was a physical fulfillment, if it was solely the feeling, or the thought, being claimed, stretched, ruined. You never wandered about it long — after all, it didn’t matter. In seconds, the ocean overflowed for you. He spilt for you.

Vio lost his mind for you.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

Can we get a part 2 of "get off the floor" ? It was sooo good

you know what? why the fuck not.

get off the floor, m | jjk >> get on the floor, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You order Jeon Jungkook to get on the floor. He says, “Make me.” You make him get on his knees. The exact place he wants to be and the perfect place for him.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; bratty (needy) JK; wedding guests reader and JK get a damn room because they are not-safe-for-public, traumatizing some elevator patrons in the process; public teasing; smut (fem dom!reader + sub!JK, begging, biting, marking, spit kink, f and m-receiving oral, slight degrading talk (not really), whipping JK with his own belt, cowgirl, cock-and-ball torture, edging, forced multiple orgasms) ft. a cameo of certain lil meowmeow chastising them for being horny ;)

--

“Mine or yours?”

You watched him run the scenarios in his head. “Mine.”

“Ah,” you mused. “Mine then.”

He ran to catch up with your quick strides, looking just about as done with you as you had with him less than twenty minutes ago when he was laying on the floor being insufferable. Deserved. He grumbled under his breath. “Why ask if you’re just going to ignore me anyway?”

You turned and faced Jeon Jungkook, forcing him to stop dead in his tracks and almost collide with you. His white dress shirt was barely buttoned. At least he had the decency to fasten the black vest back up and haphazardly shrug on his blazer. You looked up at him, pointedly, although it was more to fluster him with the lines of your collarbones and cleavage. Instantly wiped the frown from his expression and replaced it with the struggle to focus on your face.

“Why follow if you’re against it?” you asked, completely blocking his path.

“I…” He fumbled with his words. “I’m not.”

“You’re not?”

You both stood in the hallway, so close to the lobby that you could hear voices. You watched Jungkook bite his lower lip, the awareness that if anyone happened to walk by – hotel staff, wedding guest, random patron – would bear witness to you slowly backing him into the wall, expression unchanging, until your chest was pressed against his chest, the smooth curve of your breasts brushing against his bare skin.

You narrowed your eyes.

“You have another thing coming if you think you can take advantage of me,” you breathed. Slowly and with venom.

He seemed genuinely shocked. “No way.” His youth shone through despise his mature appearance. “I want you to take advantage of me.”

You raised an eyebrow.

Jungkook seemed to realize that he blurted out his secret desires a little too loud. His ears began to singe bright red. He tried to raise a hand to cover his face. You slapped it down. He whimpered, pressing his lips together so that only you could hear it vibrating from his chest to yours. You saw his eyes dart about to check if anyone was around.

You grabbed his chin with three fingers, dragging his face back down.

Dark brown orbs shaking, his pink lips parting as you forcefully brought attention back to you. You leaned in, your lips moving against the side of his open mouth, whispering to his lip piercings.

“Then why your hotel room?” you asked rather calmly.

Hesitation. Then voices seemed to be moving towards you both. Panic. Jungkook attempted to escape your grasp, but you gripped his chin harder and shoved your torso into his, stepping between his legs to imprison him against the wall. He gasped in your ear. Hot and saturated with desire. You began to slide your thigh up between his and Jungkook couldn’t speak fast enough, his hands finding your hips and trying to keep you away from his growing erection lest he lose his common sense and give in to all he wanted.

“I wanted to see you in my clothes after,” he whined, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid your stare. “In only one of my t-shirts… And… M-Maybe we could s-share in a b-bed – please, s-stop… I can’t–”

You backed away.

He had not even registered your body heat left until a second later, bolting upright as a group of women turned the corner. Other wedding guests in fine dresses and holding cute colorful purses, deeply engrossed in conversation and fits of giggles, heading to the restrooms presumably to freshen up. You were already walking the opposite way, towards to lobby and the elevators.

You couldn’t help but smirk as you heard Jungkook bolt into a run to catch up.

Careful of your skirt, you stepped into the metal box with a few other hotel guests that seemed unrelated to the wedding. The doors began to close. A tattooed hand smacked the edge of the metal and the elevator stuttered, opening back up again to a red-faced Jungkook in a three-piece black suit with his white dress shirt half-open suddenly confronted by a scattering of startled faces.

And your enigmatic smile.

He weakly apologized and slunk into the elevator.

Now everyone was trying not to make eye contact with you both.

You tugged on the hem of his blazer and pulled him closer to the corner. He could do nothing but obey. From this angle, the rest of the elevator couldn’t see your expression due to his broad shoulders crowding you. Only Jungkook could. He, however, had a harder time of hiding, due to his height and his slicked-back black hair. The elevator carriage began to rise. You spotted him reaching up to smooth back a few stray strands in attempt to disguise previous dishevelment.

You raised your hand.

Jungkook’s dark eyes shot towards the action, warning you and mouthing, “Don’t.”

You traced the line of his pecs. His jaw clenched. You broke into his personal bubble to murmur, “What floor was the hotel room on again?”

Confusion clouded his features. His hand slid to the back of his head. The doors were opening and a few people stepped out. The rest were subjected to the sexual tension brewing in a corner. You smiled up at him, as innocently as a trickster could. Jungkook raised his other hand, probably to point to you to wordlessly ask what floor your room was on, but you scooted forward, grazing hip to hip, causing his hand to ghost your ass. Scarlet alarm rushed to his cheeks.

Your fingertip snuck closer and closer to his nipple.

His right arm dropped hastily and he mashed the button for the nineteenth floor, trying to push your hand down, inadvertently causing your nail to scratch against his already-erect nipple.

It seemed to take everything in him not to moan.

The doors slid open to the tenth floor and another couple hurried out. You gave Jungkook the devil’s smile. He glared at you. And shifted awkwardly. You glanced down. Then back up. He was trying not to look at you while also staring down your chest. Or maybe at the bulge in his slacks.

You paused as you felt his hand settle on the small of your back.

Now when your eyes rose, his did too. Somewhat uncertain. You didn’t move away. He seemed to be searching for something. You didn’t have anything to hide, so you let him look. You saw his lashes lower. He pulled you slightly closer. Leaned in, still searching, and you let him approach, the edge of your lips faintly rising.

A harsh ping interrupted.

“I would tell you two to get a room,” a dry, raspy male voice cut in from behind you.

The metal doors slid open. Jungkook started, backing off, revealing the unintentional audience. Dark olive-green jacket. Black beanie with black hair sticking out from the back. Black track pants and sandals. The pale man was carrying a plastic bag that seemed to be full of ramen. He glanced from Jungkook to you. Shook his head and walked past you both, smelling like fresh-cut pine.

His cat-like eyes found yours as the elevator began to close.

“But I assume that is what you are about to do.”

The not-so-strange stranger’s smirk disappeared as the doors shut.

The light from the panel of buttons switched only once. The doors opened again, to floor nineteen. Only you and Jungkook were left in the carriage. He grabbed your hand and pulled you out to the hallway, practically flying down the halls as quietly as he could. You were still a bit taken aback by the cat-like man who spoke with faint Daegu intonation, but were broken out of your thoughts as you saw Jungkook drop his room card, scramble to catch it from the air, succeed, and then fail to have the card reader scan it because he was pulling out too fast.

Hm.

You placed your palm in front of the reader.

His hand was shaking. He shot you a lost and frustrated glance, but you simply took the hotel key and inserted it into the slot, letting it turn green before removing it and opening the door. You stepped in, followed close by Jungkook. So close his crotch hit your ass. Subtle. The heavy door slid shut, automatically clicking. And then.

Darkness.

For a breathless second, the world was completely, utterly still.

You heard his breathing quicken, as if he finally realized the implications of everything up until now. It was easy to want, Jungkook learned, but much harder to do once the miracle came true. Perhaps that was too nice of a way to put it.

His idea of paradise was clearly not heaven sent.

You caught his hand in the dark, lacing your fingers in his to draw him away from the light switch.

Your name on the tip of his tongue before you kissed him deeply.

In the dark, he hadn’t noticed your body twist, silent as a snake, slipping the hotel keycard back into one of the font pockets of his slacks, and now you gripped his hand, holding it up and out of the way as your other hand roamed his skin, sliding up his collarbone and fanning over his neck. Devouring. You swallowed his gasp and tilted your head, softly coaxing his cries as you pressed your fingertips into the sides of his neck, relishing in the solidness of his muscles and the fragility of his sanity.

“A-Ah…”

You turned your head and used your hand to pivot him the opposite way. His wispy moan breezed past your cheek. It wasn’t quite as important to be silent anymore, but darkness had the ability to hush all, snatching vision away to amplify touch and sound. Your hand cradled his head and forced him down, your lips feathering over his cheekbone.

To his ear.

You circled your tongue, tasting the curve. Jungkook’s moan pitched. You felt him fighting his blazer as you kissed his ear, whisper light, almost noiseless, licking up his neck to feel his pulse against your tongue. Exhaled. His entire body quivered. He threw the blazer down onto the floor and grabbed your hips, almost lifting you in his pleasure, bringing more of his ear to you.

You bit down.

“Oh, fuuuuck…”

His fingers glossed over the slinky fabric, one hand on your ass the other creeping up your back, stroking your skin to guide delightful shimmers up your spine. He provoked you to bite his neck. You teased him with small kisses. Wet tongue, subtly writing your name onto his neck with your spit. A momentary tattoo only you knew. He was impatient, digging his blunt nails into your flesh.

You couldn’t resist teasing.

“What’s the matter?”

His trembling breath drifted down to your shoulder.

“B… Bite me.”

You stepped forward with one leg, smiling as you felt him press back against you, his hardness slipping into the divot of your thigh and crotch. Too many layers of clothes. Just the right amount of not enough.

“I can’t,” you hummed, running your tongue over the line of his neck muscle. “What if you have someone?”

Jungkook sounded a little bit offended and a lot whiny.

“There’s no one but you.”

Before you could become giddy over that – and, anyway, nothing was stopping him from lying – you bit the side of his neck, just under his ear. And sucked.

Hard.

It was an intimacy high unmatched. Skin between teeth, digging your fingernails into his chest, dragging down, scratching him as you bruised him, feeling his embrace loosen because the bliss of pain seized him. A gasping, weak groan fluttered from his lungs, up to his throat, leaving his lips in a drawn-out, sensual song of your name, lazily thrusting up against your thigh. Sweet friction. You lashed your tongue over the hickey. Left a constellation of bites surrounding it. Jungkook whimpered, stumbling as you caught his ear with your teeth and lightly tugged, subtly repositioning your bodies.

You flicked on the light switch.

The sconces on the walls lit up in a soft, pale white glow.

You looked down and the bruises were red-purple, a lasting mark beginning to deepen in color.

Your eyes shifted and Jungkook was staring back at you, panting. His carefully done hair was getting messier with every minute he spent with you. His vest was somehow on the floor. His dress shirt was barely hanging on his shoulders, the spread collar framing the top of his tattoo sleeve. The only reason he wasn’t completely shirtless yet was because the bottom was stuck in the top of his slacks. His belt was still buckled.

You smiled. He seemed flustered by it.

You placed a hand on his bare shoulder.

“Get on the floor.”

His dark eyes glittered. He couldn’t help himself.

“Make me.”

Your smile became a little more sinister. He balked and then buckled when the toe of your heel hooked into the back of his knee, making him lose his balance. You pressed down, firmly, pushing him to kneeling position. Your heel clicked back onto the tile floor as he caught himself, keeping steady as he realized you were using his body to balance yourself.

Jungkook lifted his head. Eyes wide. Hair over his forehead.

You looked down at him with a devil’s smirk.

“I thought you said… That my suit was too expensive to be on the floor,” he mumbled in meek protest.

He tried to be cheeky with it. His deep voice fluttered like butterfly wings.

Instead of truly replying, you stepped a little closer to his spread knees. You watched him hold his breath, then stiffen as you placed your right foot on his thigh. The slit of your dress parted like liquid violet, the deep color catching the light at the high points of your hip and the top of your thigh. You removed your hand from his shoulder, thoroughly keeping him in place with your high heel, and slipped your fingers at the apex of the slit, hiking it up. The heavy scent of your arousal was inescapable. Heavy and musky sweet. His eyes dropped down at the grand reveal, then widened as you traced the edge of the leg opening of your panties.

You curved your fingers and pulled the thin fabric aside.

Jungkook was now face-to-face with your glistening pussy.

“Hungry?” you teased.

His pleading gaze shot back up to your amused expression. You held it in breathless anticipation. Then you answered yourself.

“I hope so.”

Then you grabbed his head and shoved it in between your legs.

You caught a glimpse of his lips parting, pink tongue extending, and then you felt the warmth envelop you from below. His hand slid up your leg, leaving sparks after his trailing caress. Pleasure like soft petals closing in, and you rocked your hips into his face, feeling his tongue spread your folds apart and dip inwards. His wanton groan made your body vibrate. You gave in, riding his face with your head tipped back, closing your eyes. Rather than hearing the wet sucking sounds, you felt them electrify your nerves. From bud to blossoming bliss, causing you hiss with desire, crowning his head with your spread fingers and holding up your dress with the other. Jungkook tilted his head, closing in around your clit while lifting your leg on his thigh, and now the back of your knee was resting on his shoulder, the adjustment spreading your legs further and giving him the space to press his tongue flat to rub more roughly.

You moaned his name, low and seductive, and felt him shudder under you.

You leaned more of your weight on him and he received it well, holding your legs with his hands, licking, sucking, following the thrust of your hips into his face. You could feel your arousal dripping down, sticking to the inside of your thighs and his cheeks. He moaned in his chest and it radiated through your core, crawling closer and closer to the crescendo, ah, almost, your lashes fluttering, your grip on your dress tightening as orgasmic gravity began to pull you down.

“Fuck, Jungkook, I’m going to cum on your face,” you sighed out, twisting your fingers and pulling on his hair.

His muffled whimper sent you over the edge.

You set your jaw and exhaled heavily, bucking your hips into his mouth and spilling onto his tongue, electric elation clawing up your ass and back. Your body tensed up, completely focused on the surge of pleasure rippling through you, pressing your thigh against his ear. Your hand on his head slid down, holding him in place while your rode it out, smearing your release on his lips. You could, just barely, feel his piercings indenting your skin.

You almost didn’t let him breathe.

Then you let go.

Your head rolled back. Opened your eyes to look down, and Jungkook shuddered, his hot breath warming your heat. He leaned in again. Kiss after kiss, his tongue sliding out and licking up, closing his eyes to savor your taste, sending tingles after the high, before slowly opening those dark orbs to look up at you. You brushed his hair back from his forehead to fully appreciate the view.

He raised an eyebrow at you.

You untangled your leg from his shoulder and stepped back, taking away his pleasure.

His hands slipped from your body. Jungkook was distraught, desperation flaring in his eyes, about to crawl after you, but your swept down, flourishing your right hand and catching his chin in your palm, tilting it up.

His lips shone with your cum.

He froze.

You bowed, disrespectfully, bringing your face to his level, breathing in the perfume of your sex mixed with his cologne. You raised an eyebrow back at him even though he was back to being frozen in awe.

“Tongue-tied?”

You taunted him. Jungkook didn’t have the sense or sanity to have a smartass comeback.

“Take mine,” you offered.

And tilted your head to taste yourself.

In. Out. Your tongue outlined his moaning lips and dove back in, thrusting steadily, turning the kiss messy with your release drying on his cheeks and your saliva smearing down his lower lip. You flicked the tip of your tongue just under the center. His eyes were barely open, pupils blown out, unfocused, letting you claim his lips with no regard to himself except for sucking on your tongue when you allowed it.

You heard him swallow.

His eyes rolled back, and his entire body trembled with a breathless gasp.

You drew back to admire Jeon Jungkook on his knees, his white dress shirt pooling at his wrists and waist. All tan skin, gleaming muscles, and stunning tattoos.

His dress shoes and your heels were tossed into an inelegant pile quite unbecoming of you both.

Lust did that.

“Do you have a condom, by chance?” you asked.

You gave him a little bit of shit for having one buried in his suitcase. His toiletries bag shaped with a pink bunny motif, for fuck’s sake. He tried to hide it from you, as if you would find cute offensive. Had he ever looked in a mirror? But you let him be. His occupied hands gave you a chance to free yourself from your dress. You had paid for it to be tailored to your body, eliminating the need for a bra as it was already built in. Your hotel room key was tucked into the padding of the left breast. Creativity had to happen when there were no pockets. You didn’t have your phone or wallet. The wedding had a strict no-phone policy and the meal was complimentary, so you had left your personal things behind in your room. You were careful to hold onto the cups as you unzipped. The thin straps naturally slipped down your shoulders, no longer supported by the tension. The dark purple fabric slid down your body gradually with some help from a light shake of your ass.

You stepped out of it and lifted the dress up, draping it over one of the chairs in the hotel room.

You turned and Jungkook was staring at you with jaw dropped.

Hm.

He had managed to pull his shirt out of his pants. It lay on the floor, its white crispness rumpled with impatience. You pointedly glanced from the shirt to his naked chest. He held the line of condoms with one hand, the foil packaging shining in the light. Your eyes went to his face. He seemed taken aback. Suddenly nervous. You said nothing. With a tick of your head, you bent over and slid your thumbs under the sides of your bunched-up panties and glided them down your legs. Caught them in the air as you stepped out of them.

And placed them on the hotel dresser, right on top of Jungkook’s cell phone that happened to be there.

Your fingertips strayed on the edge as you face him again.

“Oh, fuck me,” he whispered under shallow breath.

You smiled with the innocence you stole from him and advanced.

You wondered if he meant to say it out loud. Didn’t mind his little slip-ups though. His ears reddened as you stopped in front of him. You stared into Jungkook’s eyes. He held his breath. You reached low and unbuckled his belt, gently teasing it apart and pulling from the buckle. It snaked around his waist, freed from the pant loops. The last of it fell into your other palm.

With a swift flick, you drew the buckle and end together, snapping the leather loop sharply in front of Jungkook’s chest.

“A-Ah!”

He came back to life, freezing immediately when you touched the loop to his pecs. It was a smooth grain leather. Very high quality. You grazed it over his skin. Turned it slightly as you neared his nipple, brushing the hard edge over the hard nub. He moaned in your face, biting his lip once he realized his impoliteness. You did it again. His eyelids fluttered, lowering to half-moons, clutching the condoms.

From your periphery, you witnessed his other hand sneak down to palm himself.

You turned the belt in your hands. You held the buckle with your left.

The look in his eyes was divine, craving punishment.

“You like pain,” you whispered. “Don’t you?”

Jungkook gave you the faintest of nods, sinking his teeth into the side of his lower lip, revealing the tiny mole underneath.

You smacked the smooth leather of the end of the belt into his chest.

“Answer me.”

He hissed, clenching his jaw while rubbing the highest point of the bulge in his slacks. You let him enjoy it. You were too busy enjoying the glassiness of his dark eyes.

“A-Ah, y-yes… Please…”

You slapped the leather against his other nipple. He gasped at the sharpness, ducking his head and seeing the slight red mark before you closed the distance, circling your tongue around it and making eye contact. You let your saliva drip. His breathing quickened, watching your every move. You drew patterns on his tense abs with the end of his own belt as you delicately bit down. Switched begin a light tap and a hard spank, all the while kissing his chest. You folded back the belt in your hand so it was easier to use the one end, alternating hits over wet skin and dry skin. His heartbeat raced under your lips. He let out a soft mewl, and then immediately tried to cover up such embarrassing noises, only to be reduced to puppy whimpers as you repeatedly smacked his nipple before roughly sucking on it.

At this point, Jungkook was practically humping his hand.

“Take it off.”

You warmed his shivering torso with your harsh command.

“Stroke your cock while I abuse you.”

Jungkook whined, incomprehensible. He was already doing his best to undo the button. You heard the zipper go down as you straightened. You whipped the belt over his bunched pecs. He gasped, almost a scream, shoving his slacks and boxer briefs down together. You had about a half second to appreciate how hard and how red he was before he wrapped his hand around his girth, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head, and he began to fuck his hand.

His pants didn’t even have time to fall down his thighs.

You did exactly what he wanted.

Licked up his chest. Spanked across the red trail, leaving a reddened mark. You did not give in to the adrenaline, keeping each hit within measured force, switching between hard and soft, not allowing him to become desensitized. The pain was unpredictable. The contrast made each loud slap seem worse than it was. His skin turned red. His eyes glazed over. His head tilted back slightly, the volume of his moans rising, his body rigid. You wondered if he knew that would help disperse the pain, but didn’t ask. The desperate lust was making him drunker than the alcohol he had consumed earlier.

The muscles of his neck tightened.

“Don’t cum,” you warned.

“P-P-Please…” He seemed on the brink of losing it. “Don’t… d-do this…”

You waited until the last second.

Then you shifted the belt in your hands, holding onto both ends, and tucked the loop under his balls, forcefully tugging upwards.

“Drop it.”

He obeyed instantly despite the tears on the edge of his eyes. The heavy weight of his hard cock struck the belt, dipping it down. You lifted the leather to fully cup his shaft and, while holding his terrified, eager gaze, slowly crossed your hands over, trapping his cock in a makeshift leather ring with his belt.

His cock throbbed so strongly that you felt it almost dislodge your work of art.

You raised an eyebrow.

Jungkook panted, waiting for your next order.

You glanced at the dark red-purple tip. It was shiny with pre-cum. Your gaze raised. His eyes were begging yes. His mouth kept up the act.

“N-No, don’t… please…”

“Touch it,” you murmured with the sweetness of a succubus.

His fingertips ghosted the sensitive skin and he almost buckled, shaking his head. You kept your grip on the belt, preventing him from lowering too much. If he wanted to escape you, all he would have to do was back up. But Jeon Jungkook did not want to escape you. He wanted to stare into your eyes and tease the leaking head of hic cock, shuddering and melting under the heat of your gaze, his body surrendering, subservient to your sublime, stinging conquest.

His hips were slowly thrusting.

His palm was against the tip, using the dripping pre-cum to stimulate himself as his fingertips rubbed along the underside. His lashes fluttered, doing his very best to not look away from you while also almost hitting the high of rolled-back eyes. The strong scent of his pre-cum and your arousal mixed together, saturating the air with pure sex. You took in every detail of his face, witnessing his fall to orgasm.

Almost.

You relaxed your hold on the belt.

“Fuck!”

Jungkook bit back his tongue and shot you his most helpless, longing expression. Probably two beats away from pleading you to whip his dick if only for the mere chance of release. It almost worked. Those big eyes truly were your downfall. You forced yourself to step away with a slow exhale, dropping the belt with a clunk and pointing to the bed.

“Lay on your back.”

You barely got the words out of your mouth. Jungkook nearly ripped the clothes off his body. You might have heard a seam pop. You pointed to the row of condoms in his hand and didn’t have the chance to ask before he separated one and ripped it open. On one hand, you wanted to reprimand him. On the other hand, the situation between your legs was getting rather dire.

You, too, were losing patience.

You stood on the edge of the bed, carefully observing Jungkook.

Those eyes trusted you a little too much after you whipped his chest red.

You decided to trust him too.

Slid onto the bed, crawling forward with immoral intention. In between his legs. He hesitated just before putting the condom on. You breathed out over his twitching cock. He whimpered. You loved it. Your tongue extended. With each throb, the head hit the flat of your tongue, transferring strings of spit down his length. His eyelids fluttered. You closed your lips around his hot, thick cock, unable to resist a taste, pressing him to the back of your throat, already addicted to the way he filled your mouth. You thought about edging him again but your pussy was pulsating with need.

You lifted your head, whispering darkly against his wet, shuddering cock.

“Fuck me.”

It was almost a growl.

The condom rolled down and you straddled him for the second time that night, using two fingers to hold him steady before sinking down, arching your back at the slick, full feeling of his cock entering you. It was a long-awaited reward, almost making you dizzy from the finality of it. Both of you moaned in unison. His hands found your thighs, kneading them, and you could feel him watching you, drinking in every detail with his eyes as you sank down, locking your hips to his.

Your gazes connected.

You couldn’t resist.

“Say please.”

His brows knitted together. You clenched around him. The defiance was instantly erased, replaced by submission.

“A-Ah…! Please…” The way your name dripped from his panting mouth was intoxicating. “Please…”

You rolled your hips into his with a firm smack.

The pleasure was glorious, direct, shooting through you from below. You drew up and thrust him back into you, again, and again, your breathing laboring as you rode him, drawing him and you to the abyss of lust. His gaze lingered on your bouncing breasts and he reached up, unsteadily, intoxicated on this feeling and refusing to sober up, sinking his fingers into the soft curves. You exhaled hard, blood tingling, moaning softly as his thumbs ran over your hard nipples, rubbing them in time of your rhythm. His fingertips were rough in the most arousing way, adding to the sensations amplifying each other, and so you let him touch you all over, feeling the edge of your lips tick upwards as your orgasm neared.

“I told you to fuck me, Jungkook.”

With half-moon eyes and a drawn-out moan, his hands slipped down your sides. Grabbed your hips and thrust up, making you both gasp. Hard. Slow. You pushed back down and both of you built to a brutal pace, your hands on his abs, digging your nails into hard muscle, and Jungkook was losing his mind, throwing his head back into the pillow, dripping sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. Your core burned, chasing the high, your back arching as well, matching each loud obscene smack with a satisfied cry, closer and harder and skipping breaths to withhold the faintest bit of oxygen.

Searing tension overcame your thighs.

You moaned to the ceiling and came all over his jerking cock, his groan pitching to a whine as he was suffocated by the spasms. You felt your pussy pulsate, dragging you into wave after wave of blistering bliss. The exertion had rendered you airless, gasping, squeezing Jungkook’s hips with your legs while you felt his grip on your ass tighten, sinking his spread fingers into the softness.

You froze, suspended.

Dying that little death.

You were still for a good thirty seconds. His cock throbbed inside you. You lowered your head, drifting down, down, meeting a fucked-out expression and unfocused gaze.

You smiled.

There was something so dangerous about it that it broke Jungkook from his reverie.

You lifted yourself off him, causing his length to slip out with a wet slap to his lower abdomen.

“W-What…?”

You made sure he saw you do it. Your hand extended, rolling up and he begged, “O-Oh, d-don’t… Please, you’re c-crazy…” and paying his words no mind as you dropped the used condom onto his stomach. You wrapped your hand around his slippery, sensitive cock covered in lube and cum.

Held him in panicked anticipation.

“Say it,” you demanded sternly. “You know what you want.”

The reality of his fantasy devoured him, and Jungkook desperately moaned.

“Please jack me off. Hard. Fast. Don’t stop.”

You gripped tightly and let the adrenaline flow. Power surged through your veins as he flinched, groaning into the pillow, his fingers digging into the sheets. His shaft felt hot, slick, stiff. You kept up an intense, harsh pace, and Jungkook cried out, almost thrashing, loudly whining as he came again. Cum pooled at the purple-red head, foaming as you continued, rising to press your knee to his lower ribs, holding him down. He was losing his mind, too oversensitive, whining, “Please, one more, o-oh fuck, f-fuck, please,” and you reached between his legs, tactfully pinching his scrotum and pulling on his balls with just the right amount of measured force.

Jungkook howled and slammed his head back into the pillow, thrusting up into your hand and orgasming so hard his own scream was cut off.

You ceased all movement.

His throbbing cock shivered and spat out a dribble of white that pooled around your fingers. You relieved his chest from the pressure of your knee. He coughed, sucking in greedy inhales, grabbing your calf as you dismounted. You turned your head. He was incredibly sweaty. His chest was tight. He looked like he had run a hundred kilometers.

Or like you just run him through.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I-Is it c-crazy…” Jungkook panted, staring into your eyes. “That I… Want you to d-do that again?”

There he goes again with his antics.

“You really are a pain slut.”

His lips curved into a daredevil, open-mouthed smirk.

“I like that about you.”

His ears flustered red at your compliment. You held his stare there for another uncomfortable second – on his part – and then looked down at the messy, drenched sheets before finally returning to his face.

“You’re sleeping on this side,” you declared, sliding off the edge of the bed to wash your hands.

You spotted his open suitcase on your way to the dark bathroom. It was crammed with clothes. You bent down to pick up one of his t-shirts, a white Calvin Klein, slipping it on over your naked body. Flicked on the light and turned your head to glance over your shoulder.

Jungkook was staring at you from the bed. Big eyes wide. Jaw slack. Black hair messy and all over his sweaty forehead. Naked and oh-so-very hot and perfectly enthralled by you while also being head-to-toe trouble for you, specifically.

Yes, you thought, I’ll keep him.

You smiled with a different kind of genuine pleasure and stepped into the bathroom, hearing the hotel bed fly into disarray as he chased after you.

--

drabbles masterpost | masterpost

[crazylittlejester]

what accent do you imagine each link to have? (or a voice)

*breaks knuckles* I’m so glad you asked. I don’t imagine any of them sound EXACTLY like these people because my insane ass had completely made up voices for all of them in my head and i can’t find any exact matches, but these examples are for how I imagine they sound like, as far as tone and the WAY they speak (like emphasis on words and pacing (?) of sentences and stuff. sorry if this is incoherent i just drove for two hours)

Time: Matthew Mercer’s RE6 Leon, but if he were Welsh

Warriors: Joe Keery (SPECIFICALLY as Steve Harrington and saying this does hurt me but I saw one person say this one time and genuinely it was the most correct take I’d ever heard in my fucking life), but if he had like. A classic British accent. Like the stereotypical one, BECAUSE it’s fake. He’s Brazilian/Scottish and you can hear that in his real accent

Twilight: similar to Jeremy Jordan as far as like. pitch and the way he speaks goes, but with a thick ass south eastern american accent

Sky: I don’t have a specific person hc for him, but his voice is very rich but also bright sounding. It’s got a big presence and it’s very melodic. And I hc he’s south asian

Hyrule: You can pry French/African Hyrule from my cold. Dead. Hands. As far as pitch/tone go for him I imagine he’d sound similar to Hiro from Big Hero 6, but again, french

Legend: This motherfucker is Irish, but he too fakes the stereotypical British accent. And I imagine he’d sound similar to Zeno Robinson playing Hunter in TOH but with more of a like….. raspy? quality to his voice?

Wild: I don’t have a specific person for him but he’s British to me. And his voice cracks a LOT from misuse and damage done to his vocal chords

Four: Thickest Boston accent you’ve ever heard in your entire damn life. I don’t have a specific person for him either

Wind: Similar to Walker Scobell SPECIFICALLY from that Kraft commercial, but this kid picks up and copies accents SO fast. He’s Puerto Rican to me, and his first language would be the hyrulian equivalent of spanish, but he’s picked up a sort of odd scottish accent hanging around Tetra, and the more time he spends with the chain the more that softens because everyone just sounds SO different that there isn’t like one accent he ends up unintentionally copying. He ends up sounding a little bit like all of them

[nxtaliaistyping]

Thinking about Morpheus making you ride him as punishment :(

Author’s note: oh my god the season 2 behind the scenes look has me screaming, I’m so excited. I need him back in my life.

18+ nsfw, fem reader, slight bondage

Morpheus is nothing if not an attentive lover, always putting your pleasure first. While you’re in his realm, you don’t have to lift a finger, don’t have to want for anything. He provides.

And while he spends long stretches ravaging you, of taking you apart piece by piece via his long fingers stroking your clit until you squirm and cry for him, or fingering you while your gush around his lithe digits, there’s occasionally times where he finds you…challenging.

That mouth of yours has a tendency to run rampant, undermining his authority. He is a king, a god…more than a god; an endless. And to think a bratty little mortal like you has the audacity to be in his domain, his kingdom, and demand more of his time and energy? Well, you simply need a correction. A simple reminder of your place.

So that’s why you find yourself straddling him, thighs burning as you move up and down. He looks every bit the king of dreams as he sits on his impressive throne, how high you both are allowing you to survey the room while you ride your lover to the best of your capabilities. An unseen force is keeping your hands pinned to the small of your back, not even giving you the slight relief of bracing your weight on his thighs or shoulders.

No, instead you simply have to rut against him, feeling every bit like a concubine, pleasing your ruler.

“Are you getting tired my love? That cannot be the case I’m sure, since you were so eager to have me earlier. Quite…insistent, were you not?”

You whine pitifully at his words, the ache of your limbs at the repetitive motions setting in. Morpheus doesn’t have quite the same need to cum that you do, after all you both are in the dreaming, as much a part of him as he is of it. He can withhold his orgasm for as long as needed, which seems to be long enough that you’re soaking his lap with your needy juices.

“Making a mess I see, so wanton.” He chastises, but still makes no effort to help you move.

“Please…”

“Hm?” He tilts his head, a neutral expression plastered on his regal features. “Is there something you need, dearest?”

God you just want to scream, but your outburst would most likely not help your situation, so you give him a particularly strong slam of your hips before batting your eyelashes. “Please just fuck me.”

Instead of your desired response, he simply tuts. “You misunderstand the situation. This is…correctional. Your penance if you will. After all, you were the one being especially mouthy while in my realm. So it’s only right you prove to me you’re worth the attentions of a king.”

He knows exactly what he’s doing, knows exactly how reminding you of his status above you makes you whine and clench your pussy around him. Your body is an instrument he is especially well versed in playing.

“Perhaps I have been too accommodating to your every whim and desire. I have created a spoilt thing it seems, so used to not putting in the work to achieve what she wants. This lesson is needed.”

Knowing no other way, you fight against your bodies’ exhaustion to ride him with vigour, rolling your hips. Pleasant hums occasionally pass his lips, the minuscule praise like a drug as you move faster on his lap.

You must get too carried away, as he gives your hip a light slap. “Now now, do not allow yourself to get carried away. Remember, it’s rhythm that is important in sexual situations such as this. Not just how fast you can move your hips on me.”

At his reprimanding, you nod your understanding and mutter a soft apology, building a rhythm that works. The sheer fact you’re riding him on his throne, in his throne room, really settles in. Anyone could walk in, heaven forbid Matthew flies in and gets the shock of his (after)life.

But you can’t deny how much it turns you on, to be dream of the endless’s favourite mortal, his favourite little pet to entertain him. It’s almost power in a strange sort of way, but it thrills you nonetheless.

Eventually, your lover’s hips start to move up in time with your thrusts, causing the breath to leave your lungs quickly. Your hands are released, and you quickly move them to his shoulders, feeling the material of his black cloak under your fingertips.

“Touch yourself. Feel the pleasure that I allow you to take.”

You don’t need to be told twice, fingers hurriedly rubbing circles on your clit as he fucks up into you with tenacity. “Please…can I cum?”

“You can do better.”

A moan rips its way from your lips before you can stop it. “Please…please my king, I need to cum. Please let me cum, I won’t talk back again, I’ll be so good…please.”

A trace of a smirk tugs on his lips, and he gives a simple nod of his head. Blue eyes trace over your trembling form as you finish all over his lap. A few thrusts later, he’s buried to the hilt inside of your weeping cunt, filling you up. He allows you to slump against him, gentle fingers moving up and down your spine to soothe you, his release warm inside of your spent pussy.

“Was that to your enjoyment?” He mumbles lowly into your ear, and you can’t help the girlish giggle you make as you nod against him. His smirk is now transformed into a soft smile, not allowing you to see this moment of vulnerability as he presses kisses to your hairline.

“Do not make such demands of me again, unless you want your next punishment to not involve climax for you at all.”

[insolemi]

New Beginnings

cate dunlap (gen v) x (hopefully)gn!reader

summary: cate's life takes a series of turns when she gets to God U, and you're at the center of all of them

genre: fluff, potential angst

inclusions: language, awkward situations, touchstarved and socially awkward!cate, overly-excited and outgoing!reader, ooc cate fs, this is more a few different scattered scenes that it is a full, single plot fic so be aware, my first attempt at a fic so please lower expectations

wc: 4.4k

hiiii… y’all i am so sorry this took me seventy years to get posted, i had the strangest series of events happen, but here it is and i hope you enjoy it !!

Godolkin is an entirely new environment.

It's not like Cate hadn't known that going into it, hadn’t known that her life would be completely different from the moment Indira Shetty had shown up in her room and offered her a way out of her childhood bedroom turned prison. She doesn’t think she’d ever be able to repay her for that. For getting her out of that house, out from under the echoing emptiness of the four walls of her bedroom and the occasional sound of her online homework videos.

For being the reason she met you. Her pretty, sweet little roommate.

Move-in day hadn’t been particularly good or bad, the large crowds of people and their chattering were overwhelming but calming at the same time, knowing the voices weren’t in her head but out loud, around her this time.

She made her way down the hall, brushing through smaller crowds of students and their parents as she counted the different numbers above the doors. 415, 417, 419. She reads the number, coming to a slow stop outside of the dorm room with the number written on the piece of paper in her hand, her name labeled right next to your name. The thought alone of it makes her nauseous, having to share a bedroom with an entirely new person she’d never met before and hope that they get along. 

Whatever. It’s fine. She can do this. All she has to do is walk into the room, introduce herself to you, and try her best to not embarrass herself. That’s easy enough, no? It’s not like its rocket science or a hostage situation (although the way her heart is beating loudly in her ears might say differently), all she has to do is walk in and say ‘Hi, I’m Cate’. 

She stands in the doorway, just staring at your back for a moment, her eyes wide, the leather of her gloves creaking around the strap of the bag she’s holding in her hands (one of the only things she’d even brought with her) as she works up the courage to just open her mouth and talk as the only thing running through her mind is that everything is fine, she's got this, all she has to do is say–

Fuck.

The second her mouth opens, you turn to face her from the desk you’d been arranging things on and any words she’d been carefully planning in her head die on the tip of her tongue immediately at the sight of you. 

She hardly has any time to let the thought cross her mind and register it before you’re in her space, introducing yourself with an excited note to your sweet voice and wrapping your arms around her in a brief hug, your chin pressed against the side of her shoulder, the palm of your hands braced on the back of her shoulders, the other hand around her neck. You pull back from her and rest your hands above the back of her elbows, your face still in her direct orbit as you smile at her, your mouth opening to continue speaking. “You’re Cate, right? My roommate?” There’s a pretty little sparkle to your eye that she has to tear her own away from.

She can’t think about anything but the sound of your voice ringing in her ears and the feeling of the heat of your hands over her sleeves, but she somehow manages to get the words out of her mouth to finally introduce herself. “Uh, yeah, hi,” she forces out, her head spinning so fast that she can’t think properly and she stumbles back a step, pulling out of your grasp, unable to handle the warmth of your touch. She awkwardly tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I'm, um… Cate.” It’s been so long since anyone touched her so enthusiastically, without any ounce of hesitation, and now here you are, all smiles and casual touches, and she can barely keep it together.

But she does. She doesn’t want to come across as weird, a freak, so she smiles and nods along with your excited chattering, your energy far off the charts of anything near the realm of what she’s used to. “Thank god,” you laugh, clapping your hands together as you look her over for probably the first real time since she entered the room. “I was so worried I was gonna get a total bitch, but you seem sweet, so, again, thank god.” Another bell-ringing laugh.

“You have a nice laugh.” Fuck. Again. Her and her big mouth. “Sorry! I didn’t–”

“It's fine! Thank you," you keep the pretty smile on your face as you continue to look over Cate, a tint to your cheeks appearing briefly before you’re back to talking, something she’s starting to get the sense you do a lot (not that she minds, not if it means she gets to keep hearing your voice). "Oh, your hair is so gorgeous," you lift a hand from where it’s clasped in front of your chest to briefly lift a strand of Cate's blonde hair, admiring the clips she has in place.

Cate feels her pulse quicken. “Uh... thanks. It’s just, you know... hair,” she laughs nervously, unsure what else to say. Your touch, though brief, leaves behind a warmth that spreads through her chest, and it’s making her head spin

You smile brightly, seemingly unaware of how much you're affecting her. “Y’know, you and me? We’re going to be best friends. I can already tell.” 

Cate’s face flushes instantly. "Oh, um... yeah! That’d be cool." Her voice cracks slightly as she tries to match your enthusiasm, and she winces inwardly. You sound so sure of yourself, have so much conviction in your voice that Cate can hardly do anything other than believe your words. It’s overwhelming, in the best way, but she feels like she’s drowning in it. She’s not used to this kind of attention directed at her. You’re all smiles, your energy is infectious, and it’s making her feel out of place for not being able to respond how she wants to. She knows what she wants to say, but that’s almost never what leaves her mouth.

Still in the back of her head, there’s a wiggling part that kinda smarts at what you say. Best friends. That’s exactly what she needs, she thinks, a genuine best friend, though that thought directed at you makes her chest tighten in a way she doesn’t know how to handle, for reasons she doesn’t want to think about.

“You seem... really sweet, too,” Cate admits, biting her lip the moment the words leave her mouth. She hates how transparent she’s being but with you... it’s hard to hide how much she’s already attached.

Your smile grows even warmer. “Good! ‘Cause I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, Cate.”

Cate lets out a nervous laugh, trying to mask the overwhelming flood of emotions that sentence sparks. "Yeah... I’m okay with that." More than okay, she thinks, but she can’t say that out loud.

—

It’s late, and the two of you are sitting on the loveseat couch in your dorm room that you’d somehow managed to acquire (somehow being you sweet-talking a frat boy out of one, not that anyone else needed to know that), mid-way through watching some animated movie Cate can’t remember the name of but you’d forced her to watch (‘forced’ meaning you asked her once to watch it and she caved) once you realized she’d never seen it. You’ve been leaning against Cate’s side for most of it, your head resting on her shoulder, legs thrown over the arm of the couch, and she’s been tense the whole time, back ramrod straight, trying her best not to move too much, not to let her nerves show. She’s terrified that if she moves, you’ll realize how fast her heart is racing.

It’s silent in the room until you let out a soft sigh, shifting slightly where you’re laying basically your entire body against her side. Cate can’t help but somehow stiffen up more. This doesn’t escape your notice, just like anything else that has to do with her, and you lift your head, turning it to look at her.

“You okay?” The concern in your voice makes her heart squeeze and she makes a conscious effort to relax a little. 

“Yeah,” she slips you a tight smile, her eyes darting back and forth between the screen and your face. More than okay if she’s being honest.

You nod, a soft hum of contentment leaving your lips as you lay your head back down on her shoulder, pulling your legs closer to you on the couch and loosely wrapping an arm around hers. Cate’s breath hitches despite her best efforts to focus on anything other than your bare palm on her arm. “Yeah,” you echo, the sound full of a kind of relaxation Cate desperately wishes she could hit.

It falls silent in the room again, the neon colors on the screen glowing brightly around the room, casting long shadows where the light can’t quite reach. There’s almost something either poetic or ironic in that, Cate thinks. Maybe she could figure it out if she could think about something other than the heat of your skin or your breath fanning out over her arm, your eyes still focused solely on the screen.

She feels like she should say something more, but the words get stuck in her throat, but all she can think about is how warm you feel against her, how much she wants this moment to last forever.

You glance up at her again, noticing the distant look on her face, and nudge her with a playful grin. "You’re still watching, right?" you tease, your voice light but laced with affection. “This is my favorite part.”

Cate blinks, momentarily startled, then forces a sheepish smile. “Uh, yeah. Totally.” But in reality, she hasn’t processed a single frame of the movie. How could she, when you’re so close? When your every movement sends ripples of warmth through her?

The movie continues to play, but all Cate can focus on is how natural it feels, how right it feels, sitting next to you like this.

—

It’s been a few weeks since you two moved in together, and Cate is slowly starting to feel more comfortable around you. She’s still a little awkward, old habits die hard (especially ones like hers), but she’s not as jumpy as she used to be. Especially not now when, where there used to be hard spots of tension in every silence between you two, are now small, quiet moments that are more comforting than they are terrifying.

So today, when you suggested grabbing coffee at the campus café, Cate agreed. Even if the thought of spending time alone with you, even if it is in a public space, still makes her heart race, she just couldn’t find it in herself to say no this time. She’s sitting across from you, absently stirring her drink as you talk about anything and everything, your hands doing most of the speaking for you when you bring it up. 

“So…” She can already tell you think you’re taking a risk bringing it up, which makes her stomach twist a little. “There’s this little hangout thing – not a party!” You reassure immediately, hand coming up to stop any protests she might have, already well aware that parties aren’t her thing; too many people, too much noise, too much of a risk of something bad happening. “It’s not a party, it’s just, like, five or six people, I swear.”

“You should come with me!” you say, your eyes lighting up. “It’ll be fun, I promise.” It’s a long shot, asking her to go to a party (or anything, really), and you both know it, but you never skip asking her anyway, despite her numerous rejections. It makes her feel… warm? That you never give up on her. That alone makes her reconsider her usual knee-jerk reaction of saying ‘no’.

Her fingers toy with the rim of her cup, buying her a moment to think. “I don’t know...” she begins, her voice hesitant. “Parties aren’t really my thing.” She glances up at you, biting her lip. “But... maybe.”

You nearly spill your coffee as you sit up straighter, eyes wide and a hopeful smile on your face. “Wait—really? You’d come?”

Cate feels her heart skip a beat at your genuine surprise and excitement. A small, tentative smile pulls at her lips, and for once, she lets herself enjoy the idea. “Yeah,” she shrugs, trying to sound casual even though her heart is racing. “Why not, right?”

You grin from ear to ear, letting out a little squeal of excitement, making her feel a little braver for saying yes. “This is awesome, Cate! You won’t regret it, I swear.”

She hopes you’re right.

—

Later that night, Cate stands in front of the mirror, adjusting her shirt nervously for what feels like the hundredth time. She’s never been comfortable with events like this, even if it is nothing big, just a small gathering with some people from your class like you’d said. Despite the anxiety gnawing at her, she’s determined to at least try, especially since it means spending more time with you outside of classes. She tugs at the sleeves of her shirt, her eyes lingering on her gloves.

Your soft knock on the open closet door pulls her from her thoughts. You poke your head around it, a playful grin on your face. “You ready?”

Nope. She is absolutely in no way prepared for this. At all. Cate takes a deep breath, her lips quirking into a small, hesitant smile. “Yup,” she chirps, though there’s still audible uncertainty in her voice.

You walk over to her, gently reaching out to fix a stray strand of hair that’s fallen out of place. Your fingers barely graze her skin, but it’s enough to send her pulse racing. “You look great, Cate.”

Cate’s breath catches at the compliment, and she gives a soft, nervous laugh. “Thanks,” she murmurs, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “You too. I mean, you also look great.” She's not entirely sure that covers it.

You grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. “Don’t worry,” you say reassuringly, “I’ll be right there with you the whole time.”

For some reason, that promise makes all the difference. Cate takes another steadying breath and follows you to the door, feeling just a little braver with you by her side.

Maybe tonight, she’ll finally stop holding herself back.

—

A few weeks later and the two of you are lying on your beds, the lights dimmed, just talking about anything and everything. These late-night conversations have become a nightly routine since moving in together, and Cate is starting to feel like she can really open up to you in ways she hasn’t with anyone else. There's something about the quiet of the room, the gentle rhythm of your voice, and the way you listen without judgment that makes her feel... safe, she thinks. 

You stretch out, letting your arm dangle off the edge of the bed, glancing over at her. “Hey, Cate,” you ask softly, “what’s your family like?”

Cate hesitates, staring up at the ceiling. She’s never been good at talking about them—the weight of her past always feels too heavy, too personal. But with you, it doesn’t feel quite as suffocating. There's something about the way you ask, like you’re genuinely interested, but not pushing her to share more than she’s comfortable with. She still isn’t sure how much she wants to reveal, but the silence that follows your question is patient, giving her room to breathe.

She finally speaks, her voice low. “My family’s... complicated.” She shifts slightly on her bed, pulling at the sleeve of her shirt. “I don’t really talk to them much anymore.”

You turn your head to look at her, your voice soft and full of understanding. “I’m sorry, Cate.”

Cate swallows, feeling a familiar tightness in her chest. She doesn’t want to go too deep, doesn’t want to drag the mood down, so she shrugs, trying to make it seem like it’s not that big of a deal. “It’s okay. I’m... kinda used to it by now.” Her voice wavers slightly, betraying her attempt at nonchalance.

The room falls into a thoughtful silence. It’s not uncomfortable, just heavy with the unspoken weight of everything Cate has never said aloud. You don’t push for more, just let her words hang in the air, like you’re giving her the space to share if she wants to. After a long pause, you break the silence with a soft chuckle.

“You know, I think we’re kind of like family now,” you say, the warmth in your tone unmistakable. You roll over on your side, facing her, your face half-lit by the soft glow from the window. “I mean, we live together, we spend a lot of time together, grocery shopping... pretty much checks all the boxes, right?”

Cate turns her head slightly, surprised by your words. The idea catches her off-guard, but not in a bad way. It’s just... new. “Yeah?” she murmurs, her voice uncertain. “You think so?”

“Definitely,” you say with a grin. “And you don’t have to think about any of that shit with your family right now. You've got me.” You scoot a little closer on your bed, giving her an earnest look. “So... if you ever wanna, like, talk about it, I’m here. But if not, that’s cool too. It won’t hurt my feelings or anything.”

Cate’s heart skips a beat. It’s not the words themselves that get to her—it’s the sincerity behind them. The way you say it, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, makes her feel like maybe she’s not as alone as she thought.

A small, genuine smile tugs at her lips. “Yeah,” she murmurs, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “I guess.”

You flash her another warm smile, your voice light. “See? I’m not so bad to have around, right?”

Cate chuckles softly, the sound easing some of the tension in her shoulders. “Eh, you’re alright,” she teases gently, heaving an exasperated sounding sigh. “Guess I could do worse.”

You laugh, a playful glint in your eye. “Wow, thanks, I think? High praise coming from you.”

Cate rolls her eyes, but there’s no denying the smile that’s still on her face. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” you reply, your grin widening as you settle back into your pillow. The easy banter between you both feels like a balm, soothing the heaviness of the earlier conversation.

—

You and Cate are sitting on the bed, talking like usual, but there’s something different about today—something a little heavier in the air. Cate’s been quieter than normal, her gloved hands resting tensely in her lap, fingers curling and uncurling against the fabric. You can tell something’s bothering her, the way her gaze keeps flicking down to her hands, then back up at you, as if she’s debating something in her head.

You wait for her to speak, sensing that there’s something she wants to say but is struggling to get out. Finally, you reach over and place your hand on top of hers, your thumb tracing gentle circles over the soft leather. “Cate... what’s going on?” Your voice is full of care, inviting her to share what’s going through her head, even when you both know you already know.

It’s silent in the room for a moment before you speak again. “It’s about your gloves, right?” A gross underestimation and you both know it. “You don’t have to wear those if you don’t want to. Not around me.”

Cate’s breath hitches, her eyes widening as she pulls her hands away instinctively. “I– I do,” she whispers, almost like she’s trying to convince herself as much as you. “You don’t understand. If I touch someone, tell them to do something... they have to. I can’t just take it back. What if I say something I don’t mean? What if I hurt you without even realizing it?”

Your expression softens as you scoot closer, your knees brushing against hers. “I trust you, Cate,” you say firmly, but with a gentleness that makes her heart ache. “C’mon, I know you’d never hurt me. Not like that.”

Cate bites her lip, her gaze dropping again to the gloves. She’s heard those words from you before, but it’s hard to believe them, especially when the memories of what happened to her brother still haunt her. “It’s not that simple,” she mutters, her voice tight. “I could slip up. All it takes is– is a touch and a word, and I could—” She stutters through her words before they break off, biting her lip. The thought of losing control terrifies her.

You lean forward, holding her hands tighter, not letting go this time. “I do know,” you say softly, your eyes searching hers. “I know, Cate, what you can do, what happened to your brother, but I also know you. And I’m not scared of you because I know it wasn’t your fault. Not even a little.”

Cate’s breath catches, her heart pounding as she stares at you with wide, searching eyes. No one’s ever said that to her—not like this. Not with so much confidence in her. She wants to believe you, wants to trust that she won’t make a mistake... but the fear of losing control, of saying something she can’t take back, always lingers at the edge of her thoughts.

She looks away, her voice trembling. “But what if—”

“No ‘what ifs,’ Cate,” you interrupt gently, moving her hand up to your cheek, even with the glove still on. “You can take them off. I want you to. Please?”

Cate’s heart pounds, her fingers trembling beneath the leather. She hesitates for a long moment, her mind racing with a hundred different reasons why she shouldn’t. But something about the way you’re holding her hand—like it’s nothing, like you don’t see the danger—makes her want to try.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, she reaches for the edge of one glove, pulling it off with trembling fingers. Her hand feels exposed, vulnerable, but you don’t flinch. You just hold her gaze, calm and patient, as if this is the most natural thing in the world.

She pulls off the second glove, her bare hands now resting in yours. She waits—waits for something to go wrong, for the fear to take over. But nothing happens. You don’t pull away. You don’t flinch. Instead, you gently lift her hand back to your cheek, letting her feel the warmth of your skin.

“See?” you whisper, your voice gentle. “You’re in control, Cate. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

Cate’s breath hitches, her chest tight with emotion. She can hardly believe what’s happening—she’s touching you, skin to skin, and it’s okay. It’s more than okay. It feels... right.

“I never thought I’d be able to do this,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “I was so scared I’d mess up... that I’d say something and lose you.”

You smile softly, still holding her hand against your cheek. “You don’t have to be afraid, not with me. I trust you, Cate. I always have.”

Cate’s heart swells, the weight of her fear slowly lifting. For the first time in what feels like forever, she feels safe. Not just because of your touch, but because of the way you believe in her—like she’s more than just her power, more than her fear.

“I... I trust you too,” she finally whispers, a small smile tugging at her lips. She holds onto your touch, the warmth of your hand grounding her in a way she’s never felt before. “Thank you. For believing in me.”

And in that moment, with your hand in hers, the fear that’s haunted her for so long feels just a little bit lighter. Light enough to get everything else off of her chest.

Cate swallows hard, feeling like her heart’s going to burst right out of her chest. She tries to steady herself, but the weight of everything she’s been bottling up is too much. She glances down at her hands, then back at you, and before she can stop herself, the words start to spill out—awkward, messy, but real. “I... I’m scared because... because I care about you. Like, a lot. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone, and... and the thought of hurting you... it just—it freaks me out.”

She looks away as soon as she says it, like she’s half-expecting you to laugh or push her away. But you don’t. Her heart skips a beat when she hears your voice, soft and closer than she expected.

Your heart skips a beat at her confession, but you don’t pull away. “Cate, you’re not gonna hurt me.” You lean in, your voice a little quieter, a little more vulnerable. “I care about you too... more than you know.”

Her head snaps up, eyes wide as she stares at you like she can’t believe what she just heard. “Wait... you—you do?”

“Yeah.” You nod, looking just as nervous but still smiling a little. “I’ve felt like this for a while. I just... didn’t know how to say it.”

Cate opens her mouth, but all that comes out is this weird little half-laugh, half-gasp sound, like she’s trying to process it all. “You’re serious? You like... you’ve liked me?”

“Yeah. For a while now.”

There’s this awkward pause where you’re both kind of just staring at each other, unsure of what to say next. Cate lets out a shaky breath, her fingers twitching in your grasp, and she looks down again, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

Your smile softens, and you reach out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to think about that. I’m not going anywhere.”

Cate’s throat tightens, and she feels her eyes starting to sting. She blinks quickly, trying to hold back the tears, but it’s no use. They’re not just tears of fear anymore. It’s everything—relief, hope, something she hasn’t let herself feel in a long time. She leans in without really thinking, her forehead resting against yours, her voice barely audible, trembling just a little.

“Promise?” she whispers, her breath warm against your skin.

You nod, your eyes closing as you hold her just a little tighter. “Promise.”

In that moment, Cate finally lets herself believe it might be okay.

[descendantsramblings]

Hi :)) idk if you’re accepting requests but I was just thinking…

I remembered that Hook canonically went to Eaton College, which is a pretty prestigious university, so he must actually be really fricking smart. I wish I knew what he studied tho :/ So anyway, I was hoping maybe you would write something (preferably x reader?) where he surprises everyone with his intelligence? I feel like the other VKs probably don’t actually know just how clever he is and would be taken off guard to realise it. I don’t have any specific situations in mind but I’d really like to see maybe reader acknowledge and recognise him as more than the pretty rebel he lets everyone see him as

I’m always accepting requests, it’s so fun getting to make things for someone, and it’s great writing practice. I’m almost done with all the ones I have, keep them coming 🩵

I love secretly smart characters, making a right old Evie out of him right now. I love him. (I had so many tabs open to get this right, so so many. I did Chemistry for the gag but it wasn’t worth the gag.)

Studious

James Hook x VK!Reader

Pronouns used: they/them/theirs

Summary: If it means that much to his partner, Hook can be a bit of a tutor

Warnings: pet names, swearing, sexual references, high school chemistry (Like the actual class that made me cry when I was a student), does sword fighting need a trigger warning?, Or fake moaning? Hook's partner making a joke about him having a thing for Morgie, Uliana almost makes a potion explode

Word Count: 3.5K

      Nervous fingers are shuffling through flashcards as the pirate walks into their dorm. His smirk being accompanied by raised eyebrows as he leans on the door frame, taking in the sight. They have their textbook and notebook spread out across the floor, sitting cross legged between the two. Pens and highlighters strewn around them and an empty notebook and study guide directly before them. (Y/n) is staring at them with a pout and wide eyes, huffing as they drop the flash cards beside them. “This is fucking ridiculous,” the words are barely a mumble, popping the knuckles on stressed hands as they say it. They stretch their shoulders back as well before reaching back down for the collection of brightly colored cardstock. 

   “Since when do you have to study, wizkid?” The words make their head shoot up, staring at the boy they hadn’t noticed had entered. “Since Chemistry is kicking my ass, I have to pass this exam or I’m going to fail the class again. If I fail it twice this year I won’t have enough credits to be a senior next year,” their voice is far too fast, rambling on as they reach back down for their study guide. “I thought you exempted all your exams,” he tilts his head as he speaks, watching them shuffle their cards for the third time since he made his way into the room. “Yeah, well I bombed my last two tests -like fifty-two and thirty-five level bombed- and all the As and Bs I have on experiments can’t save me there. So either I make an A on this exam or I fail the entire class for the second time. I am so royally screwed.” With a sigh, Hook makes his way over to the villain on the floor, falling to sit before them with crossed legs and an outstretched hand. “Give me the cards.” “No, I seriously need to study, James. I cannot go do whatever Uli sent you in here  for right now.” 

   He scoffs, leaning forward to snatch the cards from their loose grip on them. “I can come see my partner just because I want to be around them, you know. I don’t always have to be doing something for the group. I do enjoy your company, wouldn't be your boyfriend otherwise.” Dark eyes widen mockingly with raised brows as he finished the sentiment, head shaking in a near-bratty manner. He flips through the cards, letting his eyes ghost over the words and formulas. This was basic chemistry. He did this his sophomore year, he could probably do it in his sleep. “Even then, James, I really need to study. I cannot fail this again.” He lets his eyes cut up to them, a smirk still present across his pouty lips. “Oh of course you do, I can’t have my partner as a super senior. That’s just embarrassing for us both,” he drops the cards into his lap, reaching over for their study guide. He flips it over a time or two, barely reading it. 

  “Okay,” they draw out the word, reaching out to snatch their cards back from where they rest on his thigh, “Then let me study. Really, Honey, can’t you go harass Morgie or Bridget or something?” “Why harass them when my favorite person is right here struggling with the easiest subject ever? That’s much better material.”  (Y/n) scoffs, looking up at him from their flashcards. James is too busy looking over the back of their study guide to give them so much as a second glance, but his face holds this cocky expression. As if the boy is challenging them to snap back. “The easiest subject ever? As if. I bet you got a B in there at absolute best. I need more than a B on this to pass.” “I actually finished Chemistry One with a perfect score and finished AP Chemistry Two with a ninety-nine percent, since you’re asking.” He drops the papers into his lap, raising an eyebrow with the same challenging look in his eye as when he’s sparring against them. His hand shoots out for the cards again, flipping it from the one that they had been looking at and giving it a sparing glance. Eyes cutting back up to his partner just as quickly as they cut down, “Now, what is the definition of an intensive property?” 

    So they’re really doing this? (Y/n) guesses they shouldn’t argue, they do need the help. And if James is anywhere near as good as he says, this might be their best bet. “An intensive property is,” they let their eyes dart around the room, as if the decor on their walls would hold the answer. “Come on now, Love. Don’t draw it out. What’s an intensive property?” They bite their lip, looking down to their empty lap, “An intensive property is a property which does not rely on the amount of matter present.” A golden hook comes into their line of sight, tucking under their chin to lift their head up. When they look at Hook, he’s inches away from them, “Okay, and what are examples of an intensive property?” The hook beneath their chin moves, the sharp edge barely hovering below their skin. No looking away this time, that was a silent command for their eyes on him. “Boiling and melting points, density, and,” they snap their fingers, dragging out the one syllable word as they think. “And? Come on now, you know this.” “And,” they lock eyes with him, by god those brown eyes were captivating. It was like they were electric, sparking with some sense of excitement and pride that they couldn’t understand. Electric, that’s something right? Electricity isn’t a property of something though, but it seemed right. Why does it seem right? What did electricity have to do with intensive properties? “Conductivity,” they subconsciously cross the fingers on their right hand, staring into their boyfriend’s eyes with a longing to be correct. He nods, pulling them forward slightly. James kisses them with a feather light touch, smiling against their lips as they attempt to draw him closer. “See, I knew you knew it.” 

   They don’t get to respond before he’s drawing back, completely withdrawing his touch as he flips to the next card, dropping “intensive properties” to his lap. “What’s an atomic number?”  “What? No, what was that? You barely kissed me,” they’re pouting, reaching out for a jaw that’s pulling away from them. “What’s an atomic number?” He raises his eyebrows as he speaks, pulling further away as they get on their knees to chase his fleeting lips, “If you want to kiss me you have to answer the question.” “The number of neutrons in an atom's nucleus. Now kiss me again,” they’re fully perched on their knees now, leaning over him as he leans back to get away. James makes a loud noise similar to the sound of a buzzer going off, dropping the card in his hand and using them to cover his mouth. “What is an isotope?” (Y/n) falls back with a huff, completely discouraged as they stare with gaped lips, “What? Where’s my kiss?” 

     He pulls the cards down to smirk over the neon green paper, “I don’t reward wrong answers.” “I wasn’t wrong!” “You were, it’s not the neutrons in the nucleus but what?” A frown crosses the villain’s lips, shoulders slumping as they realize what they’d done. “Protons.” He nods, humming as he raises his brows, “Okay, new question, what’s an isotope?” “You’re awful, this is awful.”  “What’s an isotope?” They rise back up on their knees with a smirk, “What about, one kiss when I correct myself, two kisses when I’m right the first time?” He shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he does, “How about you tell me what an isotope is?” “Oh come on,” they’re whining, a hand wrapping around his hook. “Come on and answer the question.” His brows are raised, watching them pout. With wide eyes and batted lashes they let a hand trail up from metal to leather, slowly making its way up to his shoulder. “Captain, won’t you please give me a kiss? I want one so bad. I need your lips.” In any other circumstance that would work, it always worked. But James was already glowing as he looked over notecards, shaking his head with his smirk far more of a smile than normal. “That’s not going to work this time, Love. Now answer the question.” This might just be his new torture method, and by god is it working. (Y/n) was going to go crazy if they didn’t get what they wanted soon. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

   As a pirate, Hook was no stranger to drawing out torture, but he couldn’t stand to sit still for long. His love of chemistry and watching the gorgeous villain in front of him squirm could only keep him bound to one place for so long until he felt as if he might be going stir crazy. Which is how they ended up in a clearing in the woods, standing in a wide stance with swords balanced in their hands. Iron making a sharp “X” between them as they press against one another.  The ravenous look in (Y/n)’s eyes surely matched the crazed look in his, smirks present on either villain’s lips. They made one hell of a sparring partner, he’d learned that the day they met. Never took much to get the two of them alone like this either, the boy longed for the other villain’s sportsmanship. A worthy opponent was hard to come by outside of Neverland, and his lover looked so good while sword fighting that he struggled to focus. Now though, as he spits out questions they struggle to follow, it seems like they knew how he normally felt. 

    They might have quick feet and strong arms, but their pretty mind is making them lag behind. Each time their swords would cross, he’d spurt out a new question, holding them hostage until they could find an answer he saw as fitting. Each wrong answer was met with a strike to their left, correct answers with a strike to their right. They’d start a new battle, clashing metal and devious laughter until one of them could find the other pinned once again. It was the most fun he’d had in years, that annoyed little pout on their face with each new question seemed to only make the game all the more fun. “What’s the atomic number of gold?” “Hook,” despite their tense body language, the name comes out on a whine, pout growing more than the boy thought was possible. “It is gold, yes, now what would its atomic number be?” He’s chuckling to himself and he awaits their response. Their eyes flicker around him, lip between their teeth. “Seventy-nine.” He jumps back from them, sword striking out at their right side. The motion is caught by their own sword while (Y/n) lets out a giggle. 

   “I got it right!” They use their sword to force the tip of his away, turning their body to the left as they strike out above his left shoulder. “That you did, Love,” he swings to the right with a smile, bringing his sword up to push against theirs. He twists his body, gaining the upper hand as he pushes against them. (Y/n) is cringing, realizing how close they were to being cornered by him again. How could they let themself get so distracted? He’s pushing them back, and though they push forward, their sword slides down again, both villains ending up eye to eye with a new iron cross section between them. “You made that too easy,” James smirks, looking them up and down. “I didn’t, you just, that question threw me off. I don’t even know how I knew the answer.” He shakes his head, “You can’t let yourself get thrown off in a sword fight love. Your other opponents might not be as forgiving as me.” He leans over the swords for a moment, pecking their lips before he squares his shoulders back. 

   Hook’s resistance was always strong and unforgiving in a fight, even when he allowed himself a moment of calm in the storm he created. The boy pushes harder on their swords, smirking at his lover as he raises an eyebrow. “What’s a homogeneous mixture?” There’s this flicker of something in his partner’s eyes. A giggle escaping their lips as they smile at him, head tilting to the side. “Isn’t that what you and Morgie are?” He pushes rougher against them, feeling the way their laughter shakes the sword in their iron grip. “Very funny, Darling. Now answer the question, unless you want to walk the plank,” he’s stepping closer, their swords sliding ever so slightly straighter against each other. “You wouldn’t dare, you love me too much.” He hums, shaking his head, “Positive? According to you, I love Morgie, so which is it?” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

     “You two are late,” she doesn’t look up from her cauldron as she speaks, Uliana automatically knows who’s wandering in by their footsteps. The sounds are perfectly in sync, heavy pairs of boots falling in time as if they moved as one. When the two become visible in the hideout, their faces are red with a sweat sheen across their foreheads. Hook’s arm adoringly around (Y/n)’s waist as they lean against him,  the clothing of both teens ruffled from the movements they’d made while jousting. It’s cozy, needy, and the couple’s appearance quickly attracts the attention of Morgie and Hades. Both boys look to their friends with a smirk, cutting each other a sparing glance before turning back. “What have you two been up to?” Hades gives them a once over taking in how Hook’s shirt had come untucked and the wrinkles in the hem of (Y/n)’s top. “Been helping (Y/n) study for chemistry,” Hook shrugs, falling into a chair and pulling his partner down into his lap. Warm arms encapsulate the villain as they lean into his touch, smiling as his head settles on their left shoulder. A kiss being pressed to the shell of their ear earning the boy a hum.

     The sound of Hades laughing fills the room, his eyes rolling in their sockets, “Yeah, I’m sure you have been.” Hook can tell where this is going from a mile away, especially with the gorgeous look of exhaustion taking over his lover’s face. Relaxed muscles that are hidden behind heat blushed flesh. Sweat shines on their forehead and neck while their eyelids hang lower than normal. (Y/n) always looked tired and blissed out after a good duel, smiling lazily as they cling to him. He knew how they looked, and with the genuine topic at hand it definitely seemed like Hook had done nothing more than making an innuendo. If he was honest, part of him hoped that the boys thought it was an innuendo, tutoring just wasn’t his style. “We were, Hades. Excellent study session, actually. Of course, (Y/n) has always been the smartest person I know.” The god raises his brows, smirk growing as he turns to Morgie, “You don’t say. Morgie, I bet you overhear a lot of those study sessions, don’t you?” The sorcerer smirks right back, an evil glint resting in his eyes, “Oh yeah, I think the last one was English though. Studying a poem maybe?” 

    (Y/n) feels Hook’s hand sneak onto their thigh as the boys talk, an amused smirk resting on their face. He lets his fingers spread, taking up as much of the plush part of their leg as he can. “Really, Morgie? Why would you say that?” Hades is letting his eyes flicker between the overly cozy couple and Morgie as he speaks, watching for tell-tale signs that the villains were flustered. “Oh you know, I just recognized the opening line,” his finger taps his chin as he speaks, “What was it again? Oh yeah!” Morgie’s face falls to mimic a blissed out expression, hand gripping on his chest as he speaks on a nearly pornographic moan, “Oh Captain, my Captain!” Hades and Morgie fall into each other’s sides laughing, the noise they’re making earning an annoyed scoff from a preoccupied Uliana. “If you two idiots could make yourself useful, that would be great,” she’s turning, grabbing a vial of rattlesnake venom from a shelf. 

   “Study session isn’t over, Love,” Hook’s voice is soft, plush lips moving against the shell of their ear as he whispers. His words lead to them whining, head falling back against his shoulder as they pout. “My head is too full, Baby. I’ve had enough.” He chuckles, kissing their cheek as his finger moves across their thigh in an “S” shape. “Tell me the element,” he whispers, repeating the shape across their leg. “Sulfur,” they mumble, eyes focusing in on the way Uliana moves. He kisses their shoulder, “Good job.” He draws a circle next. “Oxygen.” Another kiss falls on their shoulder. It becomes a pattern. He’d draw the symbol of an element on their thigh, they would tell him the name of it. The shape repeats until they get it right, ones they got correct on the first try lead to them being rewarded with a kiss to the shoulder or neck. 

    Somewhere, though it’s partially tuned out by the pirate and his lover, Morgie is explaining what Uliana is up to.  Something about making a potion to sneak into Charming’s food, apparently he spilt Uliana’s drink all over her when she was leaving a coffee shop. Some sort of spell to make the boy clumsy enough to spill everything on himself for twenty four hours. (Y/n) can’t focus on that, not with the way that James is tracing a “Y” on their inner thigh. What element’s symbol was “Y”? “You’re making that up,” they mumble and he shakes his head against them in response. “Think harder.” “It’s too hard to think when you’re doing it there,” the words come out in a hiss, eyes cutting over their shoulder to see the smirk on his face. “Try harder then, Love.” 

   Maleficent makes her way past them, holding a little vial of something as she does. “It took forever to find this shit in the AP Chem room, just so you know. Better be worth the trouble.” Uliana scoffs, reaching an arm out for it, “It will be.” Hades and Morgie stand up to follow the dark pixie, the god cutting James and (Y/n) a look. His eyes zero in on Hook’s hand, laughing softly, “God, Hook, you are just insatiable.” The pirate winks at him over (Y/n)’s shoulder, kissing their shoulder as they softly mumble, “Yttrium.” “Good job,” he coos, letting his eyes follow the other villains. Maleficent said she’d taken something from the chem room, what is it?     “What you got there, Mali?” She turns to smirk at Hook, “Finishing ingredient to the potion. Though, it looks like we could have just got it off of (Y/n). What have you been doing to them to have them sweating like that, Hook?” His brows furrow, looking at the vial of powder in Uliana’s hand as she stands dangerously close to the fire-heated cauldron. They could get it from (Y/n)’s sweat? What could she be- his blood runs cold as Uliana goes to pull the stopper out of the bottle.

  “Uliana, don’t!” He’s throwing a very startled (Y/n) off of his lap as he jumps up, running towards the group. “What, you have a soft spot for Charming now?” He’s shaking his head furiously as he reaches out for the vial. “You can’t put that in there right now. It needs to cool.” Her  arms cross, holding the vial away from his panicked hand. “What are you talking about?”  Dark eyes stay trained on the vial, shaking his head as he speaks, “That’s sodium, right? That’s what the joke about the sweat means?” She nods, a brow raised as she waves a hand for him to hurry up and explain himself. “So, you cannot add heat to sodium.” “People add heat to salt all the time, Hook. We’ll be fine.”  She’s not listening, she never listens.

   “It’s not salt, Uli. Sodium is only half of salt.” “The other half is chlorine,” (Y/n) calls out from the other side of the room. And Hook smiles slightly, giving them a thumbs up behind his back. “So what, you’re saying that I can’t use it?” Uliana is obviously growing tired of him, but there seems to be a gear turning in Maleficent's head. “Not with heat, unless you don’t like having eyebrows,” Hook shakes his head, an arm once again reaching out for the vial. “Are you threatening me?” He groans, dragging his hand down his face, “Fine Uliana, add heat to Sodium and make it explode. Explode with it for all I care. It’s your funeral.”  Hades looks between the two, watching Hook storm away from them as he extinguishes the fire under the cauldron. “Uliana, just let it cool. Hook, you two were actually studying chemistry?” He scoffs, waving him off, “I am more than a pretty face, Hades.” “But, you were all tired and sweaty?” “Made me answer questions while we were sword fighting,” (Y/n) shrugs. “But, his hand moving on your inner thigh?” “Tracing atomic symbols on their thigh,” Hook shrugs, reaching out for his partner who walks into his arms with a giggle. They were actually studying? Who in their right mind studies like that? Not that Hades has ever thought the couple were in their right mind.

[cherubharrington]

This is s2 rafe btw

So come inside and be with me, alone with me, alone

You cried into your sleeve, tears were falling down Rafes face. You couldn’t look at him, it pained you too. He wasn’t who he said he was. And it hurt so bad. It hurt to know that you’d been laying with a stranger.

“I fucked up, okay. I did really bad things. But I met you and I want to change. I want to be better.”

Then I wouldn’t have to scream your name

You were shaking your head, you couldn’t even look at him.

“Rafe please, I can’t I can’t.” Tears were falling down your face. “Just get away from me.” You ran off, Rafe hot on your trail. You wanted him to stop. To turn back and leave you alone.

He had killed an innocent life. All because he wanted to protect his father. His father who had potentially killed John Bs dad. This was too much for you to take in.

“Baby, please! Baby, wait!” It sounded wrong now, hearing him call you that.

Atop of every roof in the city of my heart

“Get away from me, Rafe! Get away!” You cried harder, ran as fast as you could.

“I want to be different, okay! I don’t want to be angry Rafe anymore!”

“Murderer!”

“Don’t say that baby. Don’t say that.” He says, he finally has gotten you and now you can’t escape. His face is crumbled up like a piece of paper. His eyes are red from crying. But you want to run, not be so close to him. He scared you.

“I’m not your baby. Let. Me. Go.” But his grip had only gotten tighter. He wasn’t letting go and that was clear.

“No, no. I’m not letting you go. I can’t baby, what don’t you understand. You’re mine.” The words felt so icky to hear. You didn’t want to be his. You weren’t his and you were never going to be again.

“I mean it Rafe! Let go!” You pushed him away roughly, finally freeing yourself.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to kill her! She was going to hurt my dad! I was just trying to protect him!”

If I could see you, once more to see you

He was full on sobbing and nothing in you wanted to hug him. Comfort him. He was the lowest of the low to you. He attempted to hug you, to wrap around his arms. To kiss you, but you shoved him off.

“I’m done! I’m done, Rafe!”

He shook his head, a loud noise came from somewhere around the dock. He turned to look and that was your cue from the pogues to run. You did, seeing a boat approaching.

“Y/n! No!” Rafe screamed, the boat came close enough for you to jump in.

“We got you, we got you.” John B said. As he caught you. Sarah on your other side.

“Give her back to me! She’s mine!” Jj drove the boat as fast as he could. Away from Rafe. You could hear Rafe screaming. But you were free, away.

[frnkiebby]

https://www.etsy.com/listing/1424870442/this-smells-like-frank-mcr-scented-soy?click_key=c3d6fe28d35eef950c305befcb306e1b5556581e%3A1424870442&click_sum=bd93cf9b&ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=my+chemical+romance&ref=sr_gallery-2-4&organic_search_click=1&cns=1&content_source=aed75c412464990df13f6599a81663ced245c3c6%253A1424870442 “ buys you this candle “

*is mildly concerned*

apple, yes. harvest spice, yes. New Jersey?

listen i love NJ for MCR and Frank and the music scene but other than that i avoid it like the plague. i don’t know anyone in NY and New England who has much of anything good to say about NJ. aside from Frank and MCR. and the music.

[crossbackpoke-check]

about to be sooo nosy so. my apologies. but. morgan frost? girlfriend? do share (or don’t! again this is so nosy i’m sorry)

for legal purposes i can neither confirm nor deny anything about morgan and his girlfriend but afaik i think he’s single right now? at one point (within the past four years 😭) he did for sure have a girlfriend and that is the extent of my wag knowledge

[rosicheeks]

😬

[kayzero]

i forgot that january 1st means that every price in every store in existence gets raised arbitrarily but god damn if mcdonalds didn’t remind me happy fuckin new year

[toomuchdickfort]

Vent abt smth that gets on my Nerves

[lilgynt]

boy mom math is waking up ur daughter from across the house to throw out trash when ur son is in the same room

[munamania]

i mean it’s just kinda crazy cause. and forgive me if i sound somewhat spoiled here but. this trip im doing to take more credits and get experience and make connections etc is obviously expensive and i talked abt it with my parents. a lot before trying to do it. and somehow my dad didn’t understand that yk we would have to pay for it. ??? and is putting me in this spot of ‘figuring out what we’re gonna do about it’ and it’s like dude. i mean i’m going i paid for my fucking flights you know i’m. regardless i’ll be there. and i make $10/hr i have not been able to work consistently and when you don’t have thousands and thousands of dollars just sitting there accumulating more interest it doesn’t fucking last. like what exactly do you want me to say? i’ll drain all my accounts and give what little i have to you? tldr my main point here is the only way this man truly shows any kind of affection is through money and since he fucked me up im glad to take advantage of that lol like why wouldn’t i. so to have it thrown back in my face is just um an awful feeling. like im not even worth this to you. this is just too much. it truly does feel like someone put a number on love and im just not up there

[hellfireeddiemunson]

my coworker who closes most of the week is so lazy i cannot stand it