#everyone's taste here: pathetic men

[danny-chase]

he’s a mary sue to you, in my mind he has wet pathetic eyes

[dmitriene]

cw: possible dubcon, cheating in toxic relationship, reader is simon's dream girl.

retired simon ghost riley that dreams about having a sweet little bird to himself, adorable housewife that would make his days brighter by her tasteful cooking and little sanctuary between her supple thighs, all his to keep and devour.

that's when he meets you, sugary sweet thing that moved into his neighborhood, just a small road across his house where your own located, place slightly big for you alone to live, until he founds out you have a husband.

some disgusting likeness of a person, a man that treats you nothing like some pet, all sugary to you when someone's near, but making you carry your things all by yourself inside the house, letting himself huff at you displeased, tell you to “not annoy him„ when you suggest to say hello to the neighbors.

simon knows it's not a problem for him at this point, when someday he hears how you argue with your husband outside, for everyone near to hear, with your soft voice breaking down, hands clutched in shaking fists.

it's clear as a day that you need someone better, him, and not anyone else, not your pathetic type of a husband that makes you always wander outside alone, you need kind of a man that wouldn't make you shed your tears in vain, on the porch outside.

that's how he founds you, sitting late in the cold evening with your hands concealing your face that you can't stop wiping, your eyes and nose a watery mess, not even noticing someone approaching you.

simon's appearance makes you yelp, like a ghost appearing in front of you to snatch you away, and you jump on your legs, skittish, looking at him with hurt and distrust as you back away towards the door, until he lifts his arms in surrend and grumbles for you to “calm down, little tigress„

you do calm down, defiance slipping away under his hard and dark gaze as you mumble about what he wanted, that your husband isn't home right now if he's here for him, and it makes simon frown, all but wondering why would your husband mess with men that look like him, as you break in tears again.

little hiccups and chocked sobs slipping past your lips in broken melody, streaming down your wet cheeks and lingering on your lips where you lick them off, whimpering, and simon takes it like an opportunity.

his rough voice turning in grumbled coos, as quiet and soothing as he can muster when his hand settles on your lower back, a light touch, making his skin tingle as he tries to press you closer to him, close the distance and step away from your porch, which you do.

walking towards him on your own, where you brush against his sturdy chest gently, making him tug you in his arms for a careful hug, he knows he needs to be cautious with you, studies the way you remain a little stiff, and there's a lingering doubt in your head, because he's a stranger, an unfamiliar man, but you need this.

need these soothing cooes in your ear, a small pats on your hair as his thumb rubs circles on the small of your back, murmurs reassuringly about how “it's gonna be alright, little one„ and leads you with him, further away.

across the small road, from your house and towards his own, and you don't really resist, only hiccup brokenly about where he leads you, still attentive, smart girl that soon would be his, as he murmurs something about a cup of water.

he lurs you inside his house so easily, pressing a glass of water inside your hand and making you drink it down, cold liquid soothing your slightly raw throat, as he gazes at you openly, swallowing whole and still pressing you closer, calloused hand on your back that he can't stop rubbing.

you don't understand your own situation until he takes the empty glass from your shaking hand, as his own lifts to cup your cheek, and it's too intimate for a stranger, despite that you both live in the same neighborhood, because you barely talked once to each other, yet, it can't down the yearning inside of you.

for some care, the gentleness with which simon rubs at your cheek, looks into your still slightly damp eyes, before he lowers his face and brushes his lips carefully against yours, testing the waters.

through he's already bounded you against him, your softness brushing against his sturdy frame, and it takes nothing for him to take you apart, devour, greedy hands all over you without a fuss, every little whine and whimper devoured by simon's mouth.

devoured like your glossy pussy that he eats on the counter, perching you on the cold and harsh surface with his warm tongue ravaging the rich sweetness between your puffy folds, pink muscle wiggling inside your tight hole as he slurps and thrusts inside of you, hungry.

separating your soul from flesh and bones with his kisses, feral and ardoring touches that he softens as soon as you twitch under him, soothing you with a sharp suck on your clit that makes you mewl, shooting sparks to your eyes.

simon spares you on his cock in his own bed, on soft and dark sheets that look better with your body sprawled on them, supple flesh naked with your fat for him to grope, at your round tits, at the doughy thighs that he spreads to see the way his rudy cock nudges against your sopping and tight entrance.

he would keep you here, to himself alone, fuck you until his hips would sputter and his cock fill your pulsing hole with thick cum, intil you would pass away overstimulated and trembling, satiated, cheeks wet and warm with tears not from hurt, but from pleasure, the one simon kisses off your face while you curl on his chest and snore quietly.

you wouldn't need to come back to your husband, to the house that next day would be empty from half of the things that were belonging to him, he will disappear without a trace and leave your life as pure as if nothing had happened, letting simon keep you, make you his.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[bruisedboys]

jealous finnick?

jealous finnick will be the death of me!!!!!!

finnick odair x fem!reader

Breakfast in District 13 is an unusual affair. Nothing like you’re used to, being from District 4. It’s the same every morning — boring grey oatmeal with either honey or berries, depending on the day. It’s only as you take your seat next to Finnick that you realise you’ve forgotten the very crucial toppings.

“Oh no, I forgot to get berries,” you bemoan. They’re definitely all gone by now, seeing as they’re in popular demand — the oatmeal served in 13 tastes like cardboard without them.

“Here, have mine,” Gale says from across the table. You open your mouth to protest but he’s already spooning a big heap of berries into your bowl. They bleed red and purple into your otherwise plain oatmeal. “I don’t like ‘em, anyway. Too sour.”

“Oh.” You smile at him, flattered. Gale’s been nothing but kind to you since you arrived in District 13. You haven’t put it down to anything other than friendliness. Though it’s possible you’re too enamoured with the blonde next to you that you’re completely oblivious to other men’s advances. “Thanks, Gale.”

Gales smiles back and shrugs. “No problem, Y/N.”

Next to you and unbeknownst to you, Finnick scowls. He hates that Gale’s so nice to you. Loathes it. He knows it’s because you’re a ray of sunshine who draws even the coldest of people in (believe him, he’s experienced it), but the fact that Gale gave you his berries before Finnick could even offer his makes his blood boil. 

Who does he think he is? Everyone knows you’re Finnick’s girl, he’s made it very clear. It’s the whole reason you’re here, after all — Finnick specifically requested you be picked up from home before the Quarter Quell ended, to prevent anything from happening to you.

Breakfast passes without further incident. If you notice Finnick’s sour mood, you don’t mention it. You’re leaving the canteen with everyone else when Finnick grabs your waist and pulls you to the side, into an empty hallway. He peers over your shoulder to make sure Gale’s good and gone, watching the back of his head with a glare that could kill, before turning his attention to you.

“Finnick,” you say, clearly confused at his sudden manhandling. “What’s the matter with you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Finnick says shortly.

“You look mad.”

“I’m not.”

You squint at him. “You’re definitely mad. Why are you—?”

Finnick forgoes restraint and yanks you forward, pressing his mouth to yours before you can say anything else. His chest burns with molten hot jealousy, it climbs up his throat and pours into the kiss, hot and sticky. The heat ebbs though, when you kiss him back just as fervently, replaced by a fuzzy warmth only you can make him feel. It buzzes in his chest and down his arms, flares out his palm as he takes your face into one hot hand.

He pulls back just as suddenly as he’d drawn in. “You know Gale’s flirting with you, right?” He says abruptly, thumb pressed to your cheekbone.

You blink up at him, still dazed from his kissing. “What?” You ask, half laughing. “No, he’s not.”

“He is. He gave you his berries. I was going to give you mine.”

You raise both eyebrows. “He was just being nice to me.”

“Yeah, well, that’s my job.”

Finnick supposes he sounds quite pathetic. He doesn’t really care, not when your eyes go all gooey and you reach up on your tiptoes to push a curl from his forehead.

“Are you jealous?” You ask him softly, tucking his hair behind his ear. Your breath fans over his mouth and your hand lingers at his throat. “You sound jealous.”

Finnick rolls his eyes. “So what if I am? Just— have mine next time, okay?”

You smile at him, pretty as starlight. “Okay. But you don’t have to be jealous, you know? I only want you.”

Woah, Finnick thinks. “I know,” he says, too quick, his voice a notch too high.

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Do you though?” You ask, definitely teasing now. He supposes he got off lucky, you could’ve done much worse finding out he’s so sickeningly jealous over Gale, of all people.

Still, Finnick narrows his eyes at you. “Alright, that’s enough.”

Your answering giggle is smothered as Finnick swoops in to kiss you again.

-

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍

[star-suh]

Blackmail

Kim Mingyu x Male Reader

cw: top mingyu, rough sex, blackmailing, mingyu is a father as if he has a kid and a wife and an asshole too, toxic masculinity(?) is just a comment mingyu says),cheating, y/n is a closeted gay, car sex, feminization, unprotected sex, tummy bulge.

an: so i finally could finish this but my perfectionism is telling that could've been better lol.

—

y/n is a teacher at the local high school and one of his students is a pain in the ass, not paying attention, throwing paper balls, bothering his classmates. one day fed up with this, y/n scolds him "hey you brat, what are you doing?. you think just because your parents have money you can do whatever you want?", "hell yeah" the bastard replied cockily. y/n just laughed and rolled his eyes "you're a typical daddy and mommy's boy hiding insecurities behind all that money… so i ask you to leave the classroom and go to the principal. oh and you can't come back to class until your parents come do you hear me?" yelling that last one part. the boy told that to his parents overexaggerating things so they can 'punish' the teacher. mingyu, the dad, decided to investigate about him and use that information as a way to blackmail him, he found out that y/n frequents a gay bar and after that he always leaves with a man to a motel.

"hello mr. kim" welcomed the teacher "i told you to come here to talk about your son's behavior. he's very disrespectful towards me and his classmates and that's not ok" mingyu was just listening to everything with a smirk on his face and his arms crossed "that's all?" he laughs "here mr. y/n" mingyu handles an envelope to y/n he opens it and it's full of pics of him with men and there's even a flash drive "your blowing skills are good mr. y/n how much do you think this would cost?" he asks tapping the object.

"please don't spread these pics anywhere.. i beg" said the teacher scared "i won't say something to your son ever again.. or… or if you want i can leave the school ye-yeah that's it i'm quitting the job here just… just destroy this pics please" y/n grabbed the man by the hands "why you're so worried about this? you could be a good star in the porn world". "no one knows about it" y/n lowered his head "please… no one needs to know this…" his hands were shaking trying to convince mingyu. "so you'll do everything i want right?" mingyu tapped his chin with his fingers "listen i will talk to my son and tell him to behave a little more but in exchange you have to met me tomorrow night, give me your number i'll send you the address later" mingyu winks and leaves…

y/n was now sitting besides mingyu in his car, "so what do you want me to do?" asked a sad y/n, mingyu passed his phone to y/n in where his video was playing "watching that video got me so fucking hard" he palmed the growing bulge on his pants he then unzipped it and pull his cock out "i want to feel that pretty mouth of yours around my cock too. suck it" he whispered guiding y/n towards his cock, "fuck so wet and warm" grunted mingyu, y/n started to feel dizzy smelling mingyu's musky cock. "such a perfect cock" muttered y/n worshiping every vein, the thick shaft, the size of it, "look at you, I thought you would put on a fight but you already gave in to me. pathetic bitch" laughed the rich man who started to mouthfuck y/n at a harsh pace.

some minutes have passed and mingyu's cock was dripping with y/n's thick saliva, mingyu stopped y/n from sucking his balls "c'mon let's go to the back seats" there mingyu discarded his pants and leaned on his back "let me taste that used pussy" y/n obeyed an accommodate himself in a 69 position so he can keep sucking mingyu while he eat his ass out. mingyu started with doing circles with his fingers on y/n's rim, then spat on it and introduced the first finger "mmh is indeed warm" then he introduces a second finger.. the third and lasty a fourth one all of them knuckles deep going in and out "i'm started to get why everyone on that bar wants this pussy is so fucking tight. more than my wife's" mentioned mingyu, "hngh" moaned y/n with his mouth full of cock. grabbing him by the waist mingyu lifted y/n and started to eat his ass enjoying how it clenchez every time he introduces his tongue "such a tasty manpussy"...

mingyu groped y/n's chest and started playing with his nipples, tweaking and pinching them to get those pretty moans out of y/n's mouth then used his mouth to lick and bite them 'he's moaning a lot… i guess this is a sensitive part for him… kinda like it' thought mingyu.

now tapping his cock's head on y/n's clenching hole mingyu was getting ready to pound him "please wait… use a condom i've never done it without one" pleaded y/n, "fuck off you're not the one in charge here i'm gonna breed your manpussy you like it or not" mingyu grunted putting the cock's tip already inside "that also means that i'm gonna mark this pussy as mine" an in one thrust he put it all at once forming a bulge on y/n's lower tummy "woah look at that" he laughed "you're took it balls deep not like my wife she can barely take half of it" he whispered that last part licking a stripe from y/n's nipple to his ear. both stayed like that for a moment until mingyu started to move every thrust being harsher than the last one "please be more gentle" squirmed y/n pressing his hand against mingyu's stomach trying to stop him but he quit it "don't be boring dude, you're a man just endure it and let me enjoy your pussy" he then pulls out and spat on his shaft and sucked y/n's hole introducing his cock right after repeating the action during some minutes.

"tell me how it feels" demanded mingyu putting his hand around y/n's neck, applying some pressure and moving his hips quite gently to make y/n feel good "it's sooo big… it feels so good how it stretches me… i like.. i like how it is throbbing inside me… can't wait to feel your cum" that's when mingyu realized y/n was already his. "so you want my cum inside you that bad huh?. what a whore. then be my side pussy and i'm gonna pump you up every day with my warm sperm" a dizzy y/n just kissed mingyu as a way to said yes, he was desperate, mingyu is making him feel things no one ever has. y/n knew what he was doing was wrong but the pleasure was immense… he just wanted more and more.

mingyu was now fucking y/n in a quite uncomfortable doggy style position pressing the bottom's head against the window with his hand, traces of saliva and sweat being smeared in the glass everytime mingyu thrusted harshly. with a loud grunt and a last hard thrust mingyu came inside y/n “don't you dare to waste any drop you whore. keep it all inside your pussy” the top rode his high with a couple of last thrusts.

he pulls out and start using his fingers to scoop the cum and put it back inside the gaping hole, savouring the delicious wet sounds “you have a taste pussy professor. glad it's all mine now… right?” mingyu licked his ear waiting for his response, “yeah” it's the only thing that comes out of y/n's mouth, his tired self just enjoying mingyu's breath ghosting over his neck. “good boy” mi gyu added kissing his forehead and then driving towards a hotel.

the next day y/n woke up in a hotel room, his lower back in so much pain with a note on his side that reads a number that y/n calls “hello?”, “good morning slut” mingyu's sexy voice answers “i have some news for you… i won't spread these pictures of you but in exchange i want to keep fucking your pussy, my wife's it's not as thight as yours and also i can breed you as much as i want. so… deal?” y/n hesitates but eventually responds “...deal” hanging up the call while gathering his things to go home. on the other side of the call mingyu just laughs and lick his lips while driving towards his job.

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Prompt:

Pairing: Mafia! Octavinelle and MC/Yuu/ Reader

Genre: Hurt/ Comfort ig? Slight crack

TW: Kidnapping, blood, minor character deaths, mc does get a little hurt, mentions of guns, usage of guns, violence (because mafia au), mc also curses at one point, talk of killing people, the prefect wears earrings and has hair (i saw someone use put this in warnings once). Let me know if I should add anything else!

AN: First request for TWST ^^ It's my first time writing for the Octavinelle trio, so please forgive me if they're ooc, I tried my best. This was very fun to work on! Send me asks if you wanna know more about my version of mafia!twst because I had so many thoughts about this entire au but I couldn't fit everything in one post lol. Not really happy with the ending (when am I ever) but I hope you enjoy!

"I'm telling you, you don't wanna do this," You warned your captors for the third time as they checked the cuffs holding you up by your arms. It was an uncomfortable position, kneeling with your arms restrained with metal chains above your head. Your shoulders felt sore, and with how every movement made the skin of your wrists rub against the harsh metal, you just knew that you were going to be sporting some pretty nasty bruises around them.

Vil was going to be furious about that.

You watched as the leader came into your range of vision, a self-satisfied smirk painting his face as he walked over to you. There was quite some distance for him to cross to reach you, and he took his sweet time as he leisurely walked over to you. Probably an intimidation tactic, just like how making you kneel was.

You looked at him, unperturbed. Your eyes roamed over the man, who for all his intimidation tactics, was nothing but a poor little boy way in over his head. A reckless little minnow who didn't know his place, as Floyd would say.

Speaking of Floyd. You grimaced at the monstrosity of an outfit the man was wearing. In all your time as a valued member of the mafia, you had seen many outlandish outfits, courtsey of the more openly unhinged Leech twin and the field of work you were in (power had a way of killing the fashion sense of people and letting it rot inside their head). But this... was on a whole another level.

You mentally lit a candle for everyone who had to witness the... very unique display.

A sharp slap snapped you out of your thoughts. 'Did this man, just backhand me? Well fuck you too bitch', You thought to yourself as you looked back at the still smirking man. You could feel a bit of wetness at the edge of your lip, a slight stinging also being felt at the same spot. Your tongue darted out, recognizing the metallic taste of blood as you gingerly licked at the small wound.

"So this is the little Prefect of Night Raven, hm? How... pathetic. Truly, the mafia organization has fallen if they allow the likes of you to hold any position higher than a discardable pawn," he huffed, and you resisted rolling your eyes. Here comes the villainous monologue, you thought to yourself.

As the man spoke, you took note of the people in the room. Apart from you and the man, there were five other men, all very familiar faces. All of them were earlier members of NRC, who left the organization 'honorably' before your appointment as the consigliere to Dire Crowley, the main boss.

There was nothing honorable about the way they were treating you right now though.

Very reluctantly, you listened to the man's speech about how he was basically aiming to cripple Night Raven Mafia by killing you. You forced back a yawn through the speech that was supposed to strike fear into your heart; unfortunately for him, you dealt with seven very unpredictable and occasionally difficult underbosses on a daily basis. Said underbosses must have already been informed of your forced absence.

Now it was just a matter of waiting and watching to see exactly who would come to your rescue...

The door slammed open as soon as you thought that, and the eyes of every person in the room turned to it. You smiled as a very familiar face entered the room, his mismatched eyes dark and foreboding.

"Hi Floyd," you chirped, unfazed by the frown on his face and the dangerous aura around him. Floyd's eyes met yours for a moment, brightening at seeing you, before turning even harsher when he saw the state you were in; clothes (gifted to you by Riddle) rumpled, carefully styled hair (courtesy of Vil) in a disarray, and a slight swelling on the side of your face you were struck at (which would send nearly everyone into a murderous frenzy).

"Who touched my Shrimpy?" Floyd growled out at the men. "Don'tcha know that I'm the only one allowed to rough them up? You're just begging to be squeezed to death."

At this point, the men, who were earlier frozen in fear, started to fumble with their guns. Before they could even get their weapons out, gunshots rang throughout the room, each man dropping to the floor one by one.

"Ah, pardon me, but I would prefer if you did not aim your weapons at my brother," a familiar voice spoke from behind Floyd to the now dead men in the room.

You grimaced at the blood now flowing out and seeping onto the floor, the puddle growing in size and inching closer to you.

"Jade, get me out of these things," you said, successfully getting his attention as you rattled the chains holding you up.

"Ah, of course dear Prefect," Jade hummed, and you did not need to look at his face to know that he was smiling. Jade walked over to you, stopping only to take the keys to your chains from the pocket of the leader. Placing the key into the lock and turning it released you from your uncomfortable position, and you yelped as you flopped onto the ground unceremoniously.

"Shrimpy~" Floyd's rapid changes in mood was one thing you did not believe you would ever get used to, "did you really get kidnapped by this sad little bunch of minnows?" He asked, pulling you to your feet and slightly spinning you.

"Shrimpy is so helpless~"

"Indeed," Jade smiled, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. You would never get used to the all too malicious upturn of Jade's lips either. He took you from Floyd's arms, ignoring his twin's grumbling as he dusted off your clothes. "Pray tell, how could such... insignificant little men capture you, dear Prefect?"

Before you could answer, a third voice rang through the room. "Jade! Floyd! I told you not to kill any of them!" Azul huffed as he entered your line of vision, glaring at the two men who sandwiched you.

"Ah, pardon me Azul, but they were going to aim their weapons at Floyd. Not to mention how terribly they were treating the Prefect," Jade hummed, not at all repentant of his actions. Azul huffed in frustration, glaring at his consigliere.

You gave him a little wave, and Azul's eyes softened as they met yours. He looked calm and collected as he walked over to you, but the trembling of his hands as he held yours gave his true feelings away. His eyes quickly scanned your body for wounds, narrowing in displeasure at the reddened skin around your wrists and the cut on the corner of your lip.

"Prefect."

"Azul," you said, not missing the way his eyes relaxed considerably as he saw you wearing the seashell earrings he had gifted you. "Ah, so that was how Idia-san found out you were kidnapped almost immediately," he hummed. You raised an eyebrow at his words.

"The earrings have trackers in them," Jade helpfully explained.

"Well, in any case, we must take you back to the Lounge. Everyone else must have assembled there by now."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because, Prefect, we were supposed to bring your kidnappers so that a joint decision could be taken for their punishment," Azul sighed as he pushed his glasses up his nose slightly.

You glanced at your kidnappers, wrinkling your nose as the blood puddle slowly crept closer to your shoes. "They're dead."

"A most unfortunate incident, yes. But, nevertheless, their identities will suffice for now. This just goes to show that we must never leave any loose ties," Azul said ominously. "Perhaps my dear colleagues will learn a lesson from this."

"... Sure. And how did you three manage to make them stay back at the Lounge while you carried out this rescue mission?"

"The heads found it best to send us three since we were most likely to bring your captors back alive," Azul said, glaring at Floyd who just roamed around the room disinterested in the conversation. "Well, that is what Crewel and Trein thought, at least."

You chuckled. "I don't think the outcome would've been any different with the others either so... let's just get to the Lounge."

Azul smiled. "As you wish, Prefect."

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒏𝒐 𝒇𝒖𝒓𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅

I'm already deciding on part 3, so don't bother asking for it! do feel free to send in suggestions, characters for her to end up with, etc.

find part 1 here.

summary - after your breakup with steve, you change, no longer wanting to deal with your emotions. after months of your team not hearing from or seeing you, they decide to track you down.

warning - angst, death.

the gif and header I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

The Avengers were worried. Your friends and family were concerned. Hell, even your asshole of an ex was worried. It has been months since anyone had seen or heard from you, not since the day of the gathering. The house you and Steve used to live in was burnt to a crisp. Nothing was left. You had just disappeared. Steve ended up getting a couple of bruises and some broken bones that healed from your friends. They knew he was the reason for this.

You stood there, covered in blood and surrounded by dead bodies. You had been minding your own business, wanting to grab some food and return to your cabin, but these men. Oh, these men. Why did they have to think they were better than you? Why couldn’t they have minded their own business and left you alone? Was their entire species built on invading a woman’s life? Could they not just fuck off. You were so annoyed, looking around at the pathetic beings that lay bloody and lifeless. “Men.” You growl quietly before bending down to grab your bags full of food and return to where you call home. You guess this could be a time to think about everything you have done and that has happened. 

Sure, burning your house down was probably a bit over the top. But you wanted to get rid of the memory of Steve, and that was the only thing you could think of at the time. Some may call you childish or crazy for how you dealt with your emotions, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care anymore. You had spent years in a relationship with a man who was stuck in the past, who had thought you were only meant to cook, clean and bear his children. Steve didn’t really love you, he just wanted to use you, and it took him behaving like a child and throwing a tantrum for you to see he wasn’t meant for you.

It doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun. In the end, you did love him. He did have a piece of your heart. The woman inside of you was grieving and hurting. She begged you to forgive him, make him see you were meant for him. But you were stronger than her. You know that no man could ever treat you like that. You know he wasn’t right for you, and you were on a war path. You groaned as you walked up the stairs and onto your porch. Making your way into your house, you walk past everything and to the kitchen, where you place the bags down. “Hello, people who do not live here.” You hum, facing your old team members, who look shocked as you are covered in blood. 

“Y/n?” Nat steps forward, looking you up and down, trying to determine if the blood is yours. You nod, digging into the bag and pulling out your food. You reach over and grab a fork as you begin to dig in. 

“That’s my name.” You give a sarcastic smile, chewing on your food. Your eyes move over everyone before focusing on your ex. “What’s he doing here? I thought you were too busy finding someone else to put up with your shit? Ya know…” You jump up onto the counter, swinging your legs as you glare. “Someone who would make a better mother than I would.” You smile before stuffing more food into your mouth, humming at its taste. 

Tony tilts his head, making his way over to you, unafraid. “You’ve changed.” His eyes move over your face, and yours connect with him. He smiles. “I like it.” He pulls you into a hug, “I missed you, kid.” You smile, patting his back.

“Missed you too, dumbass.” He pulls back, and the rest of the Avengers make their way over to hug you, letting you know how much they’ve missed you and how worried they’ve been. “So… Whatcha doing here? I won’t ask how you found me because that’d be a stupid question.” 

“As we said, we were worried.” Nat tilts her head, “were you attacked?” You shrug, chewing your food more. “Y/n?”

“Sorta, I guess? I don’t know. Men don’t know how to mind their business.” Your focus moves to the container in your hand, barely noticing the looks they give each other. “Yes, I killed them, and it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal?! You murdered people! See, this is why I said what I said.” Steve growls, staring you down as he tries to make you uncomfortable. 

“What is it, asshole day?” You groan, tilting your head back as you feel a headache form. “Yes, Steven. I murdered people, and again, you’ve stated I wouldn’t be a good mother. How about you get over that?” You hum, shovelling more food into your mouth as you stare at him without emotion. You point your fork at him. “Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you're the problem? Maybe you're the one who wouldn’t make a good parent? I mean, let’s face it, you have issues. You can’t even keep anything good in your life, and when you do find something good, you try and destroy it because you are so self-absorbed.” You roll your eyes, ignoring how some team members chuckle as you tear the retired Captain a new one. “You think you're better than any of us? You’ve killed, too. You’ve done worse. So what if I did the world a favour and took out some pathetic men? What are you going to do? What is worse than you ripping my heart out like I meant nothing to you?” You place the food down, hop off the counter and approach him with a glare. 

And the dumbass decides to open his mouth. “Well, if you want my opinion–” 

“I don’t.” Your glare hardens, jaw clenching as you stop yourself from killing him, especially in front of your friends and family. “I have my own.” Everyone’s breath hitches when you step closer to the towering man. “Now, if you don’t mind. I don’t want trash in my house, so I suggest you find the door before I set you on fire.” You growl lowly, sending shivers up everyone’s spines before you turn and go into your bathroom, needing to get the blood of the useless off of you. 

Once you finish showering and changing into comfier clothes, you return and stop when you notice everyone bar one, still here. “Oh, you guys didn’t leave?” You look over and see Wanda preparing a feast in your kitchen while everyone else makes themselves at home around your cabin. You look around to make sure Steve isn’t hiding around a corner. “Huh, I guess trash does know how to take itself out.” Your head turns as you hear Tony laugh, nearly falling out of his seat.

“Oh, kid. You don’t know how much I missed you and your sarcasm.” He sips the very expensive whiskey that you may or may not have stolen from him. “Morgan’s missed you too, especially how you’d teach her your sarcastic ways.” You smile softly, accepting a glass from Natasha as she walks up to you. 

“I’ve missed her too. I’m sorry for not rushing over when she got hurt.” You take a sip, leaning into Natasha as she wraps an arm around you. 

Tony shrugs. “It’s not your fault. Don’t apologise. She had help plus. She isn’t even your kid. You shouldn’t have to apologise for not rushing to someone else’s kid.” He rubs his forehead, “It’s not your job to do that. Sure, when you are on the field. I get it because that’s our job.” Tony points at you. “Don’t let Captain tightass get to you. You’d be a wonderful mother.” 

You smile, “Thanks, Tony. Always one for wise words.” You smile when Wanda comes around and kisses your cheek softly, mentioning that dinner’s ready. You all head over to the table and sit down, feeling a pair of eyes on you. You turn and notice Bucky staring at you with a soft smile. “What’s up, Buck?” 

He shakes his head, “nothing. I just want you to know that I tried talking some sense into him, and when he didn’t listen and we found out the truth of your disappearance, we kicked his ass.” You giggle, shaking your head at the image. Bucky flashes a proud smile at making you laugh. He’s happy you’re smiling and loves his best friend, but Steve didn’t deserve someone like you. You deserved the world, and he knew the rest of the team was thinking it.

“Thank you, you guys didn’t have to do that. I know you’ve known him longer than you’ve known me, but I appreciate the love you’ve shown me.” You thank them, feeling loved even though deep down you feel broken. Once dinner was over, they said their goodbyes and left, promising that they’ll come and see you again. You were left alone once again. Left in your thoughts as the broken woman inside you pounded against your heart, she wanted out. She wanted to cry and grieve the relationship you once had. But anger was better than tears, better than grief, better than guilt. You walked into your bathroom and stared at yourself in the mirror. The person staring back at you wasn’t who Steve had left. She was different. “How could you have been so stupid?” You spoke to her, watching her mouth move like yours did. “Why did you fall for him?! Why did you give your heart over?!” You screamed, your fist flying forward and shattering the glass. 

You were better off alone. Maybe one day you could open your heart again, and maybe one day you’ll find the person right for you. But right now, you needed to find yourself, find the woman you were without him. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

part 3

[dollwritesarchive]

PATHETIC ROY OR JASON WITH READER PLEASE

I want theses men sobbing and moaning ‼️

Love you byw

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), dark fic, fem!villain!reader, dub con / reluctant consent, light bondage, sex pollen, mentions of violence and injuries, desperate boys, over the panties stimulation, teasing, little bit of foot/heel fetish, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ HOW ABOUT BOTH AT THE SAME TIME. i couldn’t help myself. i miss my boyos. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

you felt powerful.

no, that wasn’t true.

breaking men down was kind of your thing; you always felt powerful. but right here, right now, with Red Hood and Arsenal on their knees in front of you, you felt something else entirely.

you felt like a goddess.

your goons had outmanned, ambushed, beaten, and stripped them of their gear and weapons. then, dragged them, bound together back-to-back, their wrists cinched behind them, straight to you.

you swoon with impish glee remembering just how righteously they’d fought against your poison, even as it emanated from you, replacing your natural pheromones with something much stronger— impossible to resist. everyone always crumbled eventually.

the redhead had broken first, olive eyes glazing over when you pressed the stiletto heel on his thigh, and he leaned forward to nuzzle against your stocking-clad thigh. “Let me eat your pussy,” he’d moaned, eyelids heavy, tongue hanging out to trace the hem of lace where your thigh-his ended and your skin began. he had no idea that your pores oozed that same drug, and he collected a double dose on his tongue that dismantled his will. “Fuck.” he grunted when your crimson claws gripped unruly auburn at the roots and jerked his head back. the poor thing couldn’t even keep his eyes opened, but his hips bucked wildly, jabbing a rock hard cock with a swollen, red tip into the air wishing he could feel you wrap around him.

“You want my pussy, Arsenal?” you croon, pressed the sharp tip of your heel against his chest and press into it. your free hand slips along the zipper of your suit at the hip until the pieces flutter against your thigh like limp wings, and you allowed him to gawk at the skimpy strip of fabric that separated his mouth from what he really wanted. “Do you want to kiss my warm lips? Suck on my clit until I’m cumming all over your face?” he was nodding to each word, lapping at his own lips like a hungry mutt as your fingers delve down to rub against your panties, pulling them taut as you do so to show your shape through them, “Will you go crazy without a taste?”

Roy nods again, inching closer on his knees, and you plant your foot between his legs, so that he can rub his cock against your calf as he leans in. “Please,” he breathes out, husky and ragged, tongue hanging out of his mouth just begging for you to perch yourself upon it. “Please just fuckin’ give it to me!” you bite down hard on your lip, soaking a patch through your panties when you hear his voice break; was he on the verge of tears? driven so mad with lust that he was about to cry?

well, it would’ve just been rude for you not to give him what he wanted.

pushing his face down, you jut your hips and his countenance smashes against your clothed cunt— an audible and gurgling whimper rumbling from his lips. you watched his eyes cross, and roll back, as he smothered in your scent, his open mouth sucking and kissing at the damp fabric. you pulled on his roots, drawing in a sharp breath. “Work for it, Speedy,” you taunt, pushing harder to bob his head up and down between your thighs, your head drops back in ecstasy, “and I’ll let you drink my cum from the source—“

“Goddammit, Roy…” Red Hood mutters, his dark mop damp from sweat and still hanging forward. your brow quirks, and you tilt your head, running your free hand over his shoulder.

“Now, now,” you coo, scraping your nails over the firm muscle pads until you can hook your fingers around his throat and tilt his head back to look up at you. his eyes are hazy, and his lips are chapped, the bottom tier swollen from how hard he’d been biting down. there was also a split in the corner from where he’d taken a fist to it. also, almost to your surprise, when you stare down the length of him, you can watch his broad chest heave, sweat running down in racing ripples.

more than that, though, was his throbbing cock, hard and stabbing upwards towards his bellybutton. so, he hadn’t been able to fight it, after all. he was simply suffering in silence and hoping you didn’t notice. “There’s no reason to be jealous of him,” you purr, grabbing hold of his chin with your thumb delving into his mouth. his pupils blow themselves out, admitting his own defeat, and his slack lips allow your digit to prod, his tongue dancing over it as if welcoming you inside, as he fought to stare up into your eyes. “I’ve got plenty of uses for you both.” you lift your foot, balancing on one, and run the toe of your stiletto from his base to the pulsating tip.

Jason moans, his brows furrowing as if he wasn’t ready to give in, but his sex told a different story. “You wicked bitch, I’m gonna…” he gurgles, but you only giggle. he couldn’t even form his threat before he was leaning back against your thigh, eyelids heavy, rocking his hips to meet the gentle brush of your shoe over his length. just a couple of slow, butterfly strokes along the bottom of his shaft, before you bump the sensitive head and his release dribbles out with a slew of half-drunk curses spilling from his open mouth.

with Roy’s desperate grinding, he’d also dropped off along the way, cumming over your nylon stockings with a muffled whine of pure ecstasy, but the boys weren’t done yet. and they both seem to realize at once— when their cocks were still hard and aching. when their climax hadn’t satiated their lust, and they were only all the more sensitive.

“Oops, did I forget to mention?” you ponder, playfully sliding your fingers in at out of Jason’s whimpering mouth, and you grind against Roy’s to feel his nose bump against your clit; you mewl with impish glee, “Cumming only intensifies the poison, boys.” Jason squints, a helpless groan escaping between your fingers as his last stream spurts out on to the floor, and you lean over, as close to him as you could, to murmur, “And you two are going to be my favorite human sex toys— two obedient, unyielding cocks for me to use how I please, over and over again.”

[kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings]

Douma/Doma with a pregnant S/O - SFW+NSFW Headcanons

This was requested just after the Akaza version of these headcanons was posted - which you can find HERE - and @alastor96​ requested a Douma/Doma version (´∀｀•)

Obviously Minors DNI 

So! Without further ado, here are some headcanons for Douma/Doma with a pregnant S/O (^○^.) I hope you enjoy! 

SFW:

Genuinely thinks your joking when you tell him your pregnant - “That’s nice dear!” He says with a chirp while continuing his activity (pruning)

It takes two days for it to click that your not joking....

Douma pauses, mid-sermon, eyes blinking owlishly as the gears turn in his head before leaving to find you

Listen sometimes he’s smart and sometimes he’s downright stupid

Very apologetic and very excited!

Quickly becomes one of those men who brags about their S/O and baby

Literally manages to bring you up in conversations every single time he’s talking to someone (and no, they can’t escape)

Whenever there’s a Upper moon meeting Douma will absolutely whine and whinge about having to leave your side - “I want my wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiifeeeee,” He whines (pathetically) “ I need to be with my wife and baaaaaabbbby”

Everyone gets sick of hearing him - especially akaza with his equally as pregnant wife (half the time he just ups and leaves anyway) - but they usually put up with it....kinda?

Becomes protective 

Like, SUPER protective - still threatens people sweetly with honeyed words and a saccharine smile if he thinks there too close to you but this time its more feral? politely feral??

He’s not above growling at a person 

“Maybe I should get you a guard dog?” - you don’t know if he means a actual dog or something else and you don’t bother asking cause you just say no and having to deal with his whining as he follows you around trying to convince you that you need one

You have to have at least THREE cult members with you if Douma can’t be - only the strongest members get picked of course - for protection and so you don’t have to lift a finger

When he’s with you Douma is a hover - standing as close by as possible with a new found worry about you, the baby and your body

Everything that could be a hazard to you and the baby gets removed.... very quickly...

All of your cravings are met with ease as Douma makes sure that whatever your wanting gets made - with a taste test from him to make sure that its okay to consume (you once made him cry with how spicey you wanted something)

But Douma will also make sure that your eating a balanced diet that keeps you (and the baby) healthy and happy

Also makes sure that you drink things that are good and keep you hydrated - lots of floral + herbal teas such as chamomile, lavender, ginger and mint greentea

decked out the bed with loads of blankets and pillows so your always comfy - literally went out and found the comfiest and softest materials and brought them home like a penguin bringing rocks for the nest  

Has to be the big spoon when sleeping with his hands cradling your tummy - yes, he has woken up to you shifting and moved you back into position and no, you don’t wake up since you now sleep like the dead

This man has no names picked out 

Douma was genuinely gonna call the baby “Baby” or “Child 1″

Although he does go all-out with the baby’s room - it’s already filled with beautiful items, clothes and toys 

NSFW:

Douma always enjoys fucking you in front of the mirror and that still occurs - with great pleasure

Likes it when you lean and rely on him more

Your naked pregnant body leaning against his - back to his well muscled chest - as his fingers slip inside your plush pussy with ease, leaving your essence to drip onto the bed and coat your thighs

Your form ethereal - skin dewy, flushed and eyes lined with pretty tears

Of course, he’s alot more softer with you

ALOT more

He’s less likely to push your body past its limits like he’d usually do before you were pregnant - no pushing your legs to your ears with his dick bulling your pussy and making it kiss your womb

Vanilla sex is where its at (and he actually really enjoys it) although anal is still on the table....

Takes his time more, all slow + sensual as he purrs and mewls into your kisses - breath mingling together 

Enjoys sex while spooning 

Will make sure that you know just how much you make him horny with your pretty body 

Much like Akaza, Douma does accidentally overstimulate - although sometimes its not an accident and he just anted to bully you - you until tears prick your waterline and make your lashes dewy

Fingers and mouths your pussy til you whine and moan like a whore with your pussy making lewd squelches and gushes onto him

Leaves hickies + bites all on your shoulders, neck and chest (as usual) although this time he makes sure that their more obvious - make it obvious that your his and only his and that you are worthy enough of him

Mouths, nibbles and bites with precision 

Becomes a 100% more handsy with your breasts - loves feeling them spill out between his fingers as he squeezes 

Moans when you start lactating (lust filed hearts filling his eyes when it first happens) - your milk warm and sweet as he sucks and mouths at your sensitive nipples 

Starts to bully your nipples more, until their stiff + sensitive and milk drips out as you whimper

Douma had always enjoyed fucking you raw but now he can do it as much as possible - “Can’t get a pregnant person pregnant!” is his logic 

[feanoryen]

Finweans ranked by Aura

Feanor - So powerful he sucked the life force out of his mother, invented a ton of cool shit, had more children with his wife than any of the other Eldar, died in battle while his body combusted into flames because he was just that hot, & the King of the Valar who he hated cried over him.

Earendil - Cool as hell, has a wife who's cool as hell. Predestined to be a hero even though he comes from a basic vanilla bloodline (besides his great grandpa Fingolfin). Even though most of his ancestors were nobodies or flops, most of his descendants that came after him were cool as hell.

Maedhros - Might have been higher than his father & cousin if he didn't khs, Lowkey an Aura loss moment but he makes up for a lot with his gorgeous red hair, height, surviving Morgoth's torture, & sorta fulfilling his dad's dumb oath.

Fingolfin - The only good thing his bland vanilla mother did was give birth to him. He was a total badass I've got to admit even as a Feanorian stan. Him crossing the helcaraxë & his death were top Aura moments.

Elrond/Elros - They're twins so they can share a spot too. Both badass as hell.

Fingon - Called "the Valient", braids gold into his hair, saved his sexy redheaded cousin, & became King of the Noldor. Everything about him screams Aura.

Galadriel - Despite the fact she's a Feanor anti (Booooo!!!), she admittedly has a ton of Aura. She's smarter than possibly everyone else here given she survived when the rest of her generation either got themselves killed or spends all their time being a sad beach cryptid.

Gil-Galad - Cool as hell, managed to make an alliance Maedhros could only dream of.

Maglor - Has a couple Aura loss moments but in the end he LIVED which is an Aura gain. Also gets Aura points for having the best voice in Arda.

Celebrimbor - Pretty rad dude, love how he's more like Feanor than his father Curufinwe Jr is, unfortunately he died.

Finrod - His death is cool as fuck. Looses points for cockblocking his little brother & dying for that basic joe Beren though.

Caranthir - Goth Icon. Love how despite his raging anger issues he's also an awesome guy you'd want to be friends with.

Finwe - A massive flop in a ton of ways but definitely still has Aura. Looses Aura points for failing Feanor & choosing to marry an unsexy Vanya when he could've waited for his sexy talented silver haired Noldo wife to come back to life. Only good thing about him besides his awesome hair is that he's Feanor & Fingolfin's father.

Aredhel - Cool as hell but has terrible taste in men. Her whole white aesthetic & her wild personality gain her Aura points though.

Turgon - The only cool thing about him is that he built Gondolin which wins him some Aura points. Looses Aura points for getting played by his nephew & dying pathetically though.

Idril - She's cool I guess, the only thing of note that she did was give birth to the chad Earendil. Tuor is such a basic guy though, he's not the worst but she could do better.

Aegnor - Cool hair. Pulled a baddie. Fumbled the baddie.

Angrod - Not the most stand out Finwean but he seems to be a mama's boy & he didn't do anything wrong so I'll put him above the family flops.

Finduilas - She's a sweetie but she looses Aura points for falling out of love with a great guy like Gwindor & falling in love with Turin the walking L.

Celegorm - Stupid as hell for trying to use a powerful half-Angel as a political weapon against her father. Looses more Aura points for getting abandoned by his dog & dying at the hands of said half-Angel's 30 y/o mortal son while he's over 1000 y/o. Gains some Aura points for being able to talk to animals, his hair, & his hot bastard energy.

Curufin - Feanor with 99% less Aura. His only achievement is having Celebrimbor yet he still couldn't even succeed at being Feanor 2.0 and having 7 kids to continue the family line. Had the chance to kill Eol but didn't which led to his favorite cousin dying (that's a huge L).

Finarfin - Takes after his mother in the sense he's vanilla af. The tiny percent of Aura he has is from his Noldo side obviously and he used that to pull a baddie like Earwen. All his kids get their Aura from their mother's side.

Orodreth - I like the guy, but he's definitely a dumbass with no Aura. He inherited a kingdom but isn't particularly good at anything. His only accomplishment is possibly fathering Gil-Galad.

Maeglin - Orodreth might have no Aura but this guy has negative Aura. His childhood sucked but he's such a walking L that's he's somehow more of a loser than both Celegorm & Eol combined.

[crepesuzette2023]

In the spirit of that comment, do you have any recs for fics about prostitute, wife, princess, slut, omega Paul?

Answering this ask gives me great personal happiness.

Here are some stories that celebrate the energy of slutty Paul, and the men who feed on it. I'm sure this collection is pathetically incomplete. Feel free to add...!

FOCUS ON JOHN AND PAUL

A Taste of Honey (@muzaktomyears). John fantasizes: what if Paul were a woman? (He'd be a tart.)

Bound & Determined (@aquarianshift). Paul likes to be tied up during sex.

Club Sandwich (@javelinbk & @scurator). 1967. A party at Cavendish. John finds Paul sandwiched between two men...

baby, it's all relative (@pauls1967moustache). Early days. John vs. Jim vibes. Paul is a slut and John is his Daddy.

Look in My Direction (@adriennefrombrooklyn). Porn with intense feelings. Paul is obsessed with John's hands.

Anywhere (Hxrny_Mxcca). John takes Paul anywhere he can have him.

Got to Get Down (@eveepe). Paul drives John insane by means of his small and perfect cock. "You can watch me."

Non Nobis Solum (downtothelastdrop). Schoolboy Paul is a match for art student John.

John's Slut (erithromycin). The title might be a bit cryptic, but basically, Paul is John's slut (and John is obsessed with him).

I Need You (@macca-is-art). Omega Paul makes his needs known to alpha John. Comic/graphic short story.

PAUL AND HIS BANDMATES

Come Together (@scurator). In a just world, everyone comes on Paul.

Can I Take My Friend to Bed (manhattanvalleys). Paul takes them all, one after the other. Technically, he is being fucked, but I've said it before: no matter where the cocks go, he's the one who fucks them. Yes, even you, John.

The One Where Paul is Bound and Determined (@averyirragularhead). Follow up to "Bound and Determined," with the whole band participating.

PAUL AND GEORGE MARTIN

what's that man holding in his hand (manhattanvalleys). "Shortly before Wings go on stage at the Forum in 1976, Paul gives George Martin three and a half minutes to work out his feelings about “She’s Leaving Home.” This is my favorite part of...:

Paul/GM Impact Play (manhattanvalleys). Series. Hot and intense.

PAUL AND ROBERT FRASER

Ambrosiano (bookofapril). To distract him from hard work in the studio, Robert takes Paul on a slutty vacation in Italy.

The Rockingham Club Mystery (@swinginglondon42). Robert finds out Paul has been with another man. It turns both of them on...

Swinging London (@swinginglondon42). Vignettes. Paul/Robert, and caning.

Coast Starlight (bookofapril). 1973. Paul and Robert on Fire Island. Romance...and an orgy! This is actually a deep, fulfilling love story. Much more than 'just' smut, not that there's anything wrong with that Paul is very much beloved in this story.

PAUL/PAUL

Birney (bookofapril). Paul makes love to his perfect person.

[teyums]

“Everyone knows. Everyone knows. She f*cks you.”

Ao’nung headcanon (no use of yn!)

⚠️ All characters are age 18 or over in this story. I will not write Ao’nung in a suggestive manner unless he is aged up.

Wc: 1.2k

I myself haven’t seen anyone write Ao’nung as submissive so I was happy to. And personally, I think this fits him way more hehe. 🤭

includes: suggestive/strong language.

part two

• Because Ao’nung is such a dickhead and so headstrong all the time, I think its pretty damn obvious that it’s merely a tough front he puts on to throw any one off from finding out he’s submissive as hell, especially you. He’s actually a sucker for the woman he loves. This man literally WORSHIPS the ground you walk on and he lives for that shit. That big and bad act is simply a disguise to hide the fact that he’s actually a bitch boy. He would definitely listen to whatever you say and follow your directions to a T.

•He’s had women pine after him before but they quickly gave up because he’s so damn rude, leaving him with zero potential mates before you came along. No other na’vi woman was willing to put up with his attitude, or better yet, see right through that shit and squash it like you did. Or maybe no other woman had the power to. The mere thought of you was enough to get this man off, he was like putty in your hands; completely infatuated with you.

Something in your bones always told you that bully act was one big bluff. The first time Ao’nung hurt your feelings while you were dating, you denied his want to touch you for two whole days. When he expressed his disapproval of your decision, you made him get on his knees and beg for forgiveness, or he wouldn’t be able to touch you for two weeks. Two weeks without touching you for Ao’nung would feel like two years. It’s not a surprise that he’s incredibly clingy and gets upset when he can’t be near you 24/7, so you knew exactly what to hold against him when he made you mad. Jeez, what a fuckin baby. Talk about mommy issues.

“Baby, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it, will you forgive me?” He spoke softly and looked down at you with doe eyes, hoping to get off the hook and have this be over with. You stood in front of him and let out a dry laugh, arms crossed and expression unamused. Now he knew good and well you wouldn’t go that easy. Him being an entire foot taller than you didn’t phase you and he knew that. Some of the other men laughed when they would see a sight such as this. How is such a small, feeble woman controlling the olo’eyktan’s son like she’s his handler? What kind of spell did you put on him?

You stared up at Ao’nung through your long lashes, hard. Completely unwavered by his attempt at winning you over.

He sighed and reached for you, but before he could even brush a finger against your arm you swatted his hand away.

“You don’t get to touch.” You hissed, earning a whine and almost a frustrated stomp from the boy who seemed sooo tough.

God, you loved to see him squirm.

“Beg for it.” You demanded, your gaze mean and unfaltering. You didn’t feel bad, Ao’nung treated everyone else like this and you were simply giving him a taste of his own medicine. Besides, he liked it anyway. The boy has a thing for dominant women, who would have guessed.

He sighed, looking around at the other na’vi strolling on the beach and cursing under his breath. “Please, please forgive me.” He spoke, sounding so much smaller than before, both in voice and confidence.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Is this what you call begging, Ao’nung? That’s pathetic, you know better. Do not waste my time.”

“Ugh… right now? Like, here? People will see me.” He lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck and spoke in a hushed tone so nobody around would hear what he was saying. He had an image to uphold, the tough son of the olo’eyktan who didn’t take shit from anybody and gave shit to everybody. If anyone saw you controlling him like this, he feared it would damage his “reputation”. Or more so his ego.

You didn’t care though, this shit turned you on. And no matter how much he complained about it, you knew it turned him on too. He would never hide the way he looked at you as if he wanted to pounce, and his body gave him up as if you had offered it a cash reward.

“Fine, three weeks.” You responded plainly and shrugged after upping his timeout, turning on your heels to walk until he grabbed your wrist and sunk down to his knees before your footing could even change in the sand.

“Wait, wait! Please, my love… I’m sorry” He apologized, genuinely this time. You could hear the desperation in his voice and it made your core tingle with need. He held your smaller sized hand in both of his much larger ones and pressed his lips against the back of it, smothering it with kisses incessantly and apologizing between each one.

Ao’nung was aware of what he had just been told, no touching. But he couldn’t help himself, he needed his hands on you every minute of the day, whether it be him kissing the back of your hand as if you were royalty or you playing in his hair while he dozed away on your chest. At this point, you had long forgiven him but seeing this big so called ‘bully’ down on his knees in front of you to earn back something so simple as the right to touch you, made you hot. You raised an eyebrow and lifted your chin at him, taking your hand back and placing your hands on your hips in an attempt to look unimpressed.

His eyes widened slightly and he shook his head, wrapping his muscular arms around your torso he hugged you tightly from below.

“Please princess, I will do anything… whatever you want. I’ll be good from now on, I promise. Just take me off punishment.” He whined desperately, the side of his face pressed just below your navel, his grip on you strong.

Feeling your breath quietly catch in your throat as you watched him, you re-centered yourself to stop your legs from trembling. Many thoughts passed through your mind and you felt your skin heating up with his face pressed up against your body. You hummed, trying to decide on one of many options and gently brushing your fingers back between the lines of scalp next to his braids.

“Anything I want?” You cooed, chewing on your bottom lip slightly and earning an instant nod from the boy who was at your complete disposal.

“Ao’nung, up.” You beckoned and used your hand to raise his chin, seeing him look up at you in admiration from below as he quickly rose back to his feet at your direction. Taking his hand, you eyed him up and down deviously while he became more and more impatient with every second that passed. The shadow on his loincloth looked much different than it did when this conversation had started. The fabric was beginning to stretch, becoming taut and hinting at his arousal. He witnessed hunger and desire cloud your eyes, his tongue peeking out to lick at his bottom lip and his eyes watching you feverishly while he waited on your next move.

“Come.” You giggled, turning around and pulling him along like a lost puppy. A sigh of relief left his lips and the goofiest smile painted its way onto his face. You could damn near see the hearts flying in a halo around this boy’s head, he was so lovestruck. His ears perked up and his stride looked drunken as he allowed you to drag him back to your tent, his eyes falling to your backside and exposing how eager he was to fulfill whatever promise he had made to you.

a/n: Alright I’m back in my groove now yall! This was so fun to write and it came to me so easily. I’m a sucker for obedient men who do as they’re told, what can I say. 🫠 I’m not sure how far in detail i’ll go when it comes to smut with ao’nung or neteyam (aged up ofc). I do know that I’ll probably get requests for multiple parts so If I write more you might see an increase in strong language or suggestive/m🅰️ture themes but I’ll have to see about that. I hope you guys enjoyed! Please like and reblog if you can, it’s much appreciated. 💞

tag list ⬇️

@mcdonalds-playground

[marinas-drafts]

Road Head

A Sarge & lil Mama scene

Summary: Elaine plays the loving spouse, the avid groupie, the shy novice -all in the time it takes to please her husband while pondering exactly what her life has become in the Amphetamine blur of their third nation-wide tour.

Warnings: 18+ rough oral sex (m. receiving) drug mentions, mentions of drinking, angst, role play of a sort (pretending the wife isn’t his wife), some obvious marital dissatisfaction, some disassociation, slight degradation and cum on the face -I swear this isn’t fully miserable but please proceed with caution, this is rather universe a-typical with its smut, not much tender loving care except faintly at the end, if you get my drift

Fully Co-Authored with @elvisabutler in a single, angst-fueled evening

Masterlist

Date: 1974, somewhere on Tour

It was right about now that Elaine realized she’d succeeded in reinventing herself just a little too well.

It was the look of recognition or lack of recognition that led her to that realization. The man above her was Elvis Presley but the woman where she knelt was not Elaine Presley. She wasn’t even Laney or Tink, she was just another girl on her knees looking up between overdone eyelashes and perfectly coiffed hair at the man with hips and lips to kill for. She felt shame then, at that realization, but odder still was the relief that flooded next. Here was no standard of behavior to reach, no image to match up to, no history weighing her down, there was only the heat then and now the musky smell of his stage sweat and the unrelenting grip of his hand on the back of her neck, keeping the rhythm he wanted without a second thought to what might suit her.

How was he to know?

She was a stranger, and strangers haven’t got tastes that men like Elvis Presley would deign to cater to. Moreover even if they did, even if men like Elvis Presley did deign to cater to them, it would be at the expense of doing something for him. It would be at the expense of catering to a whim or a mythical fancy that his drug-addled mind had dreamed up.

No, this was better, Elaine can become the lips he wants stretched across his cock. Elaine can- Elaine can play the virgin who doesn’t know how to take an uncut cock between her perfectly done lipstick. Elaine can play the experienced road girl who hasn’t ever had an uncut cock but oh Elvis, I can do it, I’ll make you feel good. Elaine can be everything but little Elaine Presley who wants to nuzzle at the patch of hair at the base of his cock like she had when they were first married.

Elaine would like to think that the little Mrs. Presley of days gone by wouldn’t recognize this tour hardened woman with spit and precum coating her throat and chest in a glistening film, messy in a deplorable, filthy, back alley sort of way that only the basest of masculine desires could appreciate -but she knows she would. Always so eager to keep his eye on her even back then, anything for Elvis, anything at all. Anything to keep the man who was so obsessed with her that he pushed her against her father’s door and asked her to marry him. Promised to give her everything she ever wanted. Anything to keep the man who she thought she lost forever after she lost Jo, the man she’d thought she’d won back with Marie.

But do ya love me, Elvis? Me?

This is what that little Mrs. Presley had led her to: a life of pleasing and chasing after a man who’s supposed to just be hers. It’s as pathetic as some of the papers would make it seem and yet it’s not. It’s worse because this wasn’t how everything was supposed to go. She should be happy and round with another baby. She should be riding him in the bus and reminding everyone to get out so she can enjoy her husband, with him laughing at how ‘y’all heard Laney’.

Instead her knees are on the floor and her tongue plays with the slit of his cock as her hand plays with his balls lazily inhaling every bit of his sweat soaked musk as she can. Taking comfort in the burning gag of him pushing too deep too fast, perking up at every “fuck yeah” he groans, contenting herself with making that left leg of his shimmy -it’s still him, slight belly paunching above her, and at least it’s still her and her stupidly hopeful heart when he hisses fast and frantic,

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna-“ tapping her cheek hurriedly because she knows this routine well enough to not be so foolish as to keep him in her mouth for this, her willingness to swallow yet again wasted on a man of such peculiar tastes.

Instead she makes sure her eyes are smiling along with her mouth, not too stiff and not too knowing, just the right sorta cheerful blankness he can tug the last bit of his pleasure to before coating her hair like a teenaged boy.

The first few times there was a twitch to her eye as the warmth of his release started to slide down to her forehead. The sensation making her gag more than his cock ever had but now this has become an old hat, a parlor trick she could show off.

See? This is how you keep a man like Elvis Presley.

You let him come in your hair after you sucked him within an inch of his life and you let him maybe take care of you, talk like one of the boys and mention how your beaver needs attention. Or maybe it’s just how she keeps him, pretending she isn’t his wife who wants more kids and who asks for them only to be brushed off. Pretending she isn’t his wife who hurls an insult or five at him when the champagne courses through her.

Of course, it’s got its comedic side, every tragedy does, and it fuels her grin as she waits patiently on her knees for his eyes to focus and his voice to rasp the inevitable, “c’mon let’s get ya up honey, let’s take care of that widdle pussy”. Because the joke is only a wife of nearly two decades would know which uppers he took based off of the time it took for him to blast off. No backstage girl could make a mental note that it was the New York doctor’s blend if he didn’t last longer than ten, and the Californian’s if they were creeping up nearer to forty. Her jaw aches tonight. Valuable as this information is she wishes idly as his cum stings her eye that she could somehow apply it to his general health. His boners seem to be doing fine, and it comforts her ego, but it’s his heart she frets over more and more each day.

She’s gotten wonderfully good at that -fretting. Elaine does it at all hours of the day and night, can multitask with another endeavor and keep at it like a champ. There’s a couple hundred photos of her on this tour smiling her best wifely smile and all the while her mind is awhirl with worry. She assures Elvis it annoys her even worse that it annoys him, this worrying she does. When she’s tipsier than she would like to admit she sometimes lets out a sneered “someone has to.”

Because even while she’s on her knees she worries for Daisy, worries her daughter is making a life similar to this Amphetamine blur she herself lives in, somewhere on the rock n’ roll Highway but not with a man who’s promised her what Elvis has promised Elaine. Her daughter would probably scoff at Elvis’ promises. Most of their children might by now and she wishes that kept him up at night alongside her.

Maybe that’s why the pills are necessary after all.

It’s only after the uppers start to wear off and her champagne runs her down that she’s curled beside him, hair and face devoid of his release and as clean as the day she was born that he seems to remember who she is. He seems to remember who she is and whispers against her hair. “Ya a‘right, Tink?”

To his credit he asks, he always asks and the answer should be easy, she should say she doesn’t know. She should say the truth that sits on the top of her tongue but she’s his wife and she wants him to be happy. “I’m alright, Naughty.”

Maybe if they say it enough, maybe if she believes it enough she can make it true. Until then the lies will do.

Hope y’all enjoyed! Your “bugging” and “screaming” is music to my ears, fuel to my fire and keeps me writing, please never hold back -this is a safe space for feral little Elvis loving rodents…like you and me.

If you’d like to be tagged in this particular series please drop a note below. I’ll admit I’m disorganized and have trouble keeping all the requests sorted when they’re scattered, what I do check regularly are the requests in the notes for chapters -and I do manage to get those added. So, if you’ve put in a request and I’ve failed ya, or if you’re new and would like to be added, please pop a note below. Xoxo 💋

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@loving-elvis

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@soloangel

@xenaspace3-blog

@60svintage

@whatstruthgottodowithit

[spikesbunny]

♥︎ WAP (WORSHIP AND PRAISE) ♥︎

+ warnings: sub reader, praise kink, worship kink (arle receiving), oral (arle receiving), mommy kink, tit sucking

+ ft: arlecchino x fem reader

+ wc: 0.7k

+ note: this is purely self indulgent and i know at least half of you agree with me on this.

reposting from @/roronoaism, all content is mine!!

nsfw under cut, minors + men dni!!!

arlecchino looks down at you from her seat, your pretty figure seated between her legs.

she wouldn't let you eat her out just yet, no, she preferred you show her how much you wanted her.

and so you did. your lips started on her foot, slowly pressing delicate kisses up her legs and calves, murmuring how pretty she was and how badly you wanted her, how much she made you crave her.

and all she did was smile down, and coo praise at you, calling you her "good girl" and "mommy's little princess". the words sent liquid fire pooling in your stomach, an urge for her to take you in the most nasty ways filling your mind as your kisses turn from innocent to needy, your tongue licking stripes up her lean legs, traveling up to her thighs.

your actions were clearly affecting her, but not so much as they affected you. you could barely control yourself, the urge to be under her, to be mommy compliant toy seeping into your brain and corrupting any other thoughts left.

"look at your, darlin, so good f' me" she purred as your kisses and licks roamed up her thighs, your much smaller hands massaging her hips. you looked up, practically begging her, begging for a taste. "please?" was all you could whimper out, without sounding too pathetic.

arle's hand moves to your cheek, cupping it as her red eyes glare down at you, pooling on more heat in your core. "not yet, doll, you've barely made it halfway up my body, mm? don'tcha worry that sweet head of yours, you'll get a lick soon."

you nod eagerly, continuing to plant kisses up her toned abdomen, tracing your name into it with your tongue. arle smirks down, cooing "good girl" and praise as you do so, causing you to quickly continue, pressing sloppier kisses and lick long stripes up her torso, making your way to her chest.

her thin lips pull into a smile, throwing off her bra for you as you eagerly latch onto a nipple, suckling away as your hand gropes the other.

arle hisses softly, a hand pressing your face closer to her chest. "so good f' me, yea? mommy's so proud of you."

you can't help but groan against her, looking up as you play with her one breast, your mouth on the other. you looked pathetic, drool clinging to your lips. it was a sight for arle's eyes, her hand brushing through your hair.

"come on, darlin, i know you wanna stay here for a bit, but didn't ya want a treat?"

it was all she had to say for you to latch off, desperation getting the better of you. you hurriedly kiss up her collar bone and shoulders, trailing down her arms. you whisper how beautiful she was under your breath, loud enough for your lover to hear, as you reach her hands, kissing each knuckle tenderly.

the action was sweet, but your intentions were far from it. you finally retreated, moving back up to kiss and suck at her neck, leaving little marks behind, the way she liked it. she wanted everyone to know you were hers, and she was yours, and was never afraid to expose the little marks in public.

it was hot, if not downright endearing.

at last, you make your way up to her face, kissing her cheek and jawline, pressing your forehead against hers as she coos how good you were for her, how sweet your words were and how much they went to her.

her hand cups your cheek again. "now, darlin, mommy thinks its time you get your treat, don't you?"

you nod, 'yes' and 'please' being all that left your mouth, sprinkled with 'thank you's as you nestle open her legs, resting your head on her thigh as you admire her, pressing your last few kisses onto her.

it didn't take long for you to finally bury your face between her legs, lapping at her like some puppy. your tongue alternated from pressing into her and licking shapes onto her clit, movements sporadic and desperate. you needed her, needed to taste her. you threw her legs over your shoulders, trying to get closer.

arle's hand tangled into your hair, 'so goods' and 'you're being so good for mommy', your licks getting more desperate and relentless as her lips dripped praise at you.

arle's head was thrown back, hand tightening in your hair as she coats your tongue and lips, you gladly lapping up every last drop of her.

"oh baby doll, do you want more?"

you nodded, eager to please your mommy. anything for her.

©2024 spikesbunny - please do not repost or translate my works on other media sites ♡

[submenarehotties]

“ under 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 control! „

submissive! ryomen sukuna x dominant! female! reader.

(does not follow the plot of the jjk manga or anime)

cw's + tw's: nsfw, explicit language, posessive! sukuna, needy! sukuna, oral (reader receives), degradation kink, praise kink.

summary: what if sukuna was never the king of curses? what if there was only the queen of curses and sukuna was your slave?

note: this is a thirst. lowercase intended.

word count: 0.5K+

to others, you were a scary curse that commanded to be obeyed, to sukuna, you were his precious mistress, his queen. sukuna would do anything for you.

sukuna bit his lip as he stared at your thighs, your dress revealing more than he liked to everyone else - even if you were alone with him at the moment. sukuna never liked prying eyes. even if you didn’t belong to him, he’d always kill the men and women that dared look at the areas you only allowed him to look at.

“you’re staring, what is it?” you questioned as you worked on a scribe.

“i’m hungry, my queen.” sukuna whispered, coming up from behind you, and placing a hand on your bare thigh gently, as if not wanting to anger you.

your face didn’t change. you were focused on work. sukuna lowered himself onto his knees.

“c’monnnn~” sukuna whined, placing kisses on your thigh.

“pay attention to me.” sukuna continued, resting his chin on your thigh, his desperate eyes waiting for yours to look into his.

finally, you’d directed your attention to him. there’s a reason that sukuna was your only slave, you hate when they beg for attention.

“if you’re hungry, go eat something. you don’t need my permission to do normal everyday necessities.” you replied, taking a very deep breath then continuing to write.

sukuna had slyly smiled at you at that, though you didn’t see his smile - you were already back to working. suddenly you felt a finger pull down your panties and seconds later a tongue eagerly lapped at your pussy, making you grip your pen tightly that it snapped in half.

sukuna sucked at your clit, desperate to taste you. after all, he was hungry.

“you damn brat.” you mutter, abandoning your work and tangling your fingers into sukuna’s hair.

sukuna purred at the degradation, his teeth grazing your clit.

“so this is what you were hungry for?” you moaned, pulling sukuna’s head closer to your pussy.

sukuna hummed in response, his tongue pushing inside you, you tightened around his tongue, making his groan and hold your thighs. you may just suck him inside, not that he wouldn’t like that.

sukuna felt so hot and weak, your red eyes locked on his face. he had no doubt you were smirking at him. sukuna continued to suck and lap at you. you finally came with a raspy groan, it made sukuna hard just to touch you. sukuna happily sucked up your juices, groaning at your taste.

sukuna was going to continue lapping at you for another orgasm, and you were fine with that but you wanted to take a look at sukuna first. you pulled sukuna’s head away from your pussy, and he whined in disapproval.

sukuna’s face glistened with sweat and your juices. he looked pathetic. his eyes were glazed over, his gaze locked on your bare pussy with hunger. he wanted more.

“hungry.” was the only word he could murmur, before diving back in.

you lightly gasped, caught off guard, but you quickly recovered, massaging sukuna’s head with a pleased smile on your face, “good boy. pleasuring your queen so good, slave.”

sukuna could never see himself above you. sukuna may become your husband, but he’ll never be the king of curses, because you’ll always fulfill both titles. sukuna knows his place - under your control.

a/n: OKAY, this was supposed to be shorter but the writing got away from me and it kept getting longer 😭🙏!! also we def need more sub sukuna dw i got ur back. & trying to get over my miguel o’hara obsession, the struggle is horrible. my fingers want to write abt him so bad 😫.

click here for my masterlist(s).

© 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 2023. All Rights Reserved.

[ohgriftwearereallyinitnow]

I wrote something but I honestly don’t have the energy to finish it. But I also really like it. Comments, reactions and replies welcome.

heres like 1500 words of Leverage ot3 angst

cw: canon typical violence, mention of blood/bodies/injuries/nightmares but nothing too graphic:

Eliot's wrist buckled under the force of his punch and he knew it was over. He knew it immediately, in the way that you do when unforgivable words leave your mouth and that tell tale silence falls. The twist in the movement had knocked the breath out of him pulling his focus to his cracked rib. It only took him a second to recover but in that time the pain in his wrist set in. The rest of his senses dulled as shock enveloped him, dulling the pain. He had two more guys to take out before the team was done, fifteen give or take already lay groaning on the floor. Alec was trying to fight one of them off, rather pathetically if Eliot were being honest. He stopped listening, focusing on the pain for one moment. A quick glance told him his right arm was useless, the pulsing ache he could ignore but he knew from experience that if he kept pushing he’d lose control real fast. He really didn’t feel like killing anyone today. Especially when-

A scream pulled their attention to the doorway and a burly man with a buzz cut and a nasty snarl of a smile on his face entered the room, a body draped over his shoulder. Eliot couldn’t see who it was. Then it hit them like a punch right to the solar plexus. Parker. Then Eliot saw it; the blood trail following the man into the room, dripping from the ends of her blonde hair. Suddenly he thought he was going to be sick. The fuzz in his head had become overwhelming. Everyone moved in slow motion.

“Eliot!” Alec dodged the bodyguard’s right hook and he didn’t even have the wherewithal to hide the shock from his face. He threw a terrified glance at Eliot when the guy pulled out a pistol. “I need a little help here! Come on!” Eliot had clocked the gun the moment the bodyguard walked in but then he assumed it wouldn’t be a problem. The situation had clearly changed.

The anger and panic in Alec’s voice sounded far away like he was yelling from a different room. Alec turned to the man with Parker over his shoulder.

“What did you do?!” The hacker lunged at the man and before anyone could react Buzz Cut lifted his arm. Two echoing gun shots pulled Eliot back into his body. He gulped in air as time caught up with him. A fire inside him shook what was left of the shock out of his system and finally he snarled, bright eyed and furious at the two men who had just taken the people he loved most.

A loud BANG echoed off the walls. This was it. He tasted blood. With everything left in his body he lunged at the man with the gun but he didn’t make it that far. A third gunshot. But maybe it was better that way.

##

Eliot was lying on his back. His hair was damp and his breath came in short, shallow, sharp gasps. The ground became soft around him. Someone was shouting his name in his ear. It was like they were right there-

“ELIOT?”

But...how?

“Eliot, you’re safe! You’re here with us.” The ground bounced beneath him like it was soft, like there were springs. A bed. Eliot couldn’t move. His thoughts were slow, he couldn’t figure out what was happening.

This time when Alec spoke it was with trepidation. “What’s wrong with him?”

Wrong with me?

“Nightmares,” Parker spoke from experience. She looked up at Alec and motioned him to move away. “Don’t touch him, he could get violent.”

A dream. Eliot opened his eyes. Alec and Parker pulled back in sync. They were ready for the man in their bed to react with the violence they’d become accustomed to, although never directed at them. It hurt him to think that they would ever be afraid of him. That they could even for a second think he’d do anything to hurt them.

He didn’t say anything, neither of them did. He just kept breathing. Nightmares were not a new occurrence for Eliot, he’d been having them since his service. What was different is how seeing Parker’s body and Alec shot affected him. He had just shut down, gone numb, something he promised himself he wouldn’t do again. He was not a hired gun. He was a hitter and a good one. For a team that needed him. Pure anger pulsed through him as he remembered the dream. Then his chest ached.

“E- Eliot,” Alec said softly. “Can you hear me? Are you awake?”

Eliot looked at him and then at Parker. Something in his stomach dropped. These are the people he most cared about. Parker took a measured risk and put her cold hand on his cheek. Eliot leaned into it, blinking at her. Just feeling their presence.

“You were-” he didn’t want to say it.

She shook her head. “I’m right here.” When he was sure she wasn’t lying he turned his attention to Alec, eyes wide. “Hardison,” Parker growled.

Alec’s eyes were glued to Eliot’s pale face. “You were sleep fighting - which really isn’t that weird - you do that all the time. But then you started yelling our names. I thought you were mad, I thought I pulled your hair in my sleep or put pressure on your cracked rib. But then you started…” Parker took his hand, steadying him. “You were crying, man.”

Eliot wiped his face and sat up. “I gotta-” he needed air. “I have to go.” When he got up Alec reached for him but he wouldn’t be pulled back. He needed room to think. All he could do was focus on their smell, their soft warm bodies next to him. Warm. All he wanted to do was feel the blood pulsing under their skin, feel their chest rising and falling. The ultimate signal that their breaths were still coming, that they were still here. Solidify that his dream was nothing more than that. A fiction his brain had come up with to deal with….

“Eliot.” Parker called, worry deep in her voice. He didn’t look back. In fact he changed into sweats - in plain view of the bed - and went out for a run.

Confusing her like this ached deep in his stomach. He’d promised never to give her mixed signals, she explicitly asked him when she was still struggling with voicing the things she was feeling. He insisted it was just as hard for him but he knew what she meant. She’d spent too many years yearning after abusive people, family who couldn’t decipher the difference between pain and love, relationships where manipulation was top priority. She’d become hardened, faced everything with a smile but she hadn’t let anyone in for years before them. She’d come so far since then. He’d promised he wouldn’t hurt her- or either of them - you don’t get into this business without needing to hide some scars yourself.

And yet. He never thought about how losing them would hurt him.

##

The run had given him time to think but it hadn’t calmed his nerves. He was still weighed down by the contents of his dream, still jumping at every sound. This was not good, a spring loaded hitter was dangerous. Every time he closed his eyes he snapped right back to seeing them both, lying still and covered in blood. It was hard to get close to people as a Hitter. He knew that, they knew that. But somehow they’d snuck up on him.

After three hours of running his chest was burning and he was legitimately worried his legs were about to give out under him. But he didn’t want to see them. Not because he didn’t want to see them, because he did. More than anything he wanted to collapse into their arms and let them take care of him like they often did in the comfort of their shared apartment. A role reversal that took him a long time to come to terms with but now treasured above all else. But he didn’t want to be reminded that he’d acquired such a weakness. Knowing that he had to deal with that, and that knowing he’d die for them at any given moment. It killed him to think about leaving them open to threats from all sides.

It wasn’t dying he was afraid of. It was losing them, not being a part of this thing they’d built. This comfort they’d fought endlessly to achieve. He coughed and his throat burned.

Entering the seemingly empty apartment from the front door always set off alarm bells in his head. He always felt the urge to check every bedroom for intruders and tense his shoulders for a fight. Today he was too mentally and physically exhausted.

Then just like that it hit him; he more than anyone could die tomorrow, he probably would. He had to tell them what they meant to him. He listened closely, waiting to hear the soft whispers of their voices. When he didn’t he wondered if they’d gone back to sleep. But Parker wasn’t the type to fall back asleep after something like that.

[theflirtmeister]

38 for the writing meme, you know I gotta ask for hoffheight 🫡🫡

Amanda refuses to go downstairs to collect the boy’s corpse. She stands at the top of the basement stairs shaking like a small dog, mascara thick and clumpy on her lashes as she blinks wetly at the darkness below. Mark is almost sickened by it - that this is John’s latest recruit, this is who he’s throwing blind faith into.

“I’ll do it,” Mark says, when the trembling verges on pathetic. “Give me the bag.”

Their fingers brush as she hands it over, and some horrible part of his brain screams Angie! Angie! before he shoves the thought aside. The bag crinkles in his hot palms, and he shoves it into his trouser pockets before he can think twice about it. Amanda looks like she’s about to thank him, and he barges past her before she has the chance.

The bathroom is dark, with only the sounds of dripping water for company. It stinks of blood and rotting flesh - the Doctor’s foot festering on the tiles. Hoffman kicks it so that it skids across the floor, hitting a soft lump lying at the other end of the room, still chained. 

Adam Faulkner-Stanheight makes a confused noise at the back of his throat.

Mark steps back in surprise. He thought the boy was dead, everyone thought the boy was dead. There’s a series of bin bags upstairs that they’re going to dispose of his body in, once Mark’s carved it up. John had practically signed the death certificate. Yet Adam is lifting his head from the floor, blinking at the intruder, eyes and nose red from crying.

“Lawrence?” He slurs.

Mark doesn’t reply. He doesn’t know what to do. He can’t stop staring at Adam, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, the way his shirt is clinging to the outline of his ribs. He’s very pretty, like something out of a painting. Mark doesn’t normally go for pretty boys, he likes men who can throw him around, who will press him to the floor and make him cry. He could probably make Adam cry.

“Lawrence?” Adam says again. He sounds frightened. 

Mark takes a step forward, then another, until his feet are brushing against Adam’s legs. Adam tilts his head up to look at Mark, eyes rimmed red. His skin is tinged with green - he’ll probably bleed out or die of starvation if Mark doesn’t suffocate him. If Mark doesn’t put his hands on him.

He drops down onto one knee, staring into Adam’s face, unable to look away. Adam looks back blearily, then raises one slender arm, and touches his knuckles to Mark’s cheek. His fingers are cold against Mark’s hot skin, and his lips part slightly, as if in amazement. 

“You came back.” Adam says, and kisses Mark.

His mouth is dry and chapped, and he tastes like a corpse. Mark kisses back, cupping Adam’s face between his hands, increasing the pressure until they’re both unable to breathe. He breaks away, panting, and Adam whimpers, wanting more. 

“Shush,” Mark says soothingly, reaching into his pocket. The bag crinkles, but at the bottom is a key, tarnished metal. “I’m here to save you.”

Adam’s gaze is unfocused, but he smiles anyway, gums pale white. 

“Lawrence.” He sighs, and Mark can be Lawrence, for a little while.