#god franks stupid fucking legs i love him

[frnkiebby]

i fucking can’t~🎃

[herecomethatboi]

Dbd killers x gn! Reader pt.2

Part two of MC slamming killers against the wall. Now it's MC who gets slammed lol

(I remembered like... A few days ago that I have a Tumblr account and I have 70+ followers??? Oh my god??? I love you guys, and i'm so sorry for delaying this. School, life and my love life just ✨love✨ to make me suffer🥲)

((LET'S GOOO))

The Ghostface:

The cat and mouse play begun, once you heard him giggle like a kid opening Christmas presents. The chase went on for what seemed like hours.

But of course, by the rules of the Entity's Realm, he caught up.

The breath was knocked out of you as you were thrown on your front and you tried to buck him off, although now he remembered he actually has his supernatural strengh to pin you down.

He was huffing, you were out of breath and he turned you -rather harshly- on your back making you grunt. He sat on your stomach, then he raised his knife.

You thought he will stab you in the skull, so you winced and closed you eyes while shielding your face with your arms.

With a swift motion he stabbed it into the ground next to you. You lowered your arms and opened your eyes to see his...face.

The mask was thrown somewhere else.

He had a grin on his face. An arogant, stupid grin on his face.

"Caught you now..." His voice was raspy, like he hasnt used it in a while. "Thought you could run away from me?"

"No, I-"

"I think I should return the favour, no?" He cut you off with a grin. At your lack of response his grin grew. "Not so bold now, hmm?"

You glared up at him and tried to push him off, which made him grab your wrists in his hands and pin them above your head.

"Awh, last time you were rougher, i'm almost disappointed." He giggled again.

That was the last straw, and whatever adrenaline you had in your system came in the form of pushing against him and switching positions.

"I can be rough, just like last time." You grinned down at his stupid face with that stupid grin.

"Oh, please, do go on." He... Pleaded? It sounded like teasing, but the honest begging undertone was so obvious.

So, you kissed him. Pinned his arms down by his wrists, and did the knee thing, which made him shiver.

He pulled back, not expecting you to ACTUALLY do something with him.

"Oh God..." He breathed out. His cheeks were pink, highlighting some of his freckles.

"My name should be what you call." You said as you applied pressure between his legs, which made him arch up just a tiny bit.

"Oh...God..." He moved against your knee, trying to find some release.

"Good boy."

The Entity watched with pop-corn as the scene unfolded.

The Legion, Frank:

You were repairing a gen when he randomly appeared next to you. You jumped back, let out a tiny scream (and had a mini heartattack) making the generator explode, which he laughed at.

"Am I that scary? Come on now." He laughed, you glared at him.

"Oh, should I start listing why a SURVIVOR should be afraid of a KILLER?!?" You asked rather harshly. His laughing turned into snickering.

"Yeah, well, this killer has to remind you where your place is after the last time we met." You were pinned against the gen when he finished that sentence. "After all, i'm a big, scary, merciless killer. Am I not?"

You stared at him with widenes eyes for a moment, then your expression turned blank and you clicked your tongue.

"Says the guy who whimpers like a girl." That did the trick, since he started stuttering non-sense that wasn't helping his case.

"WELL FUCK YOU- you... uh- you- uhm- FUCK- uhmmmm-" You chuckled and waited for him to form a sentence.

He stabbed you angrily and ran away, like the baby he is.

Then, when he got back, he started ranting about you to the Legion, who collectively told him to fuck your brains out or you will.

Frank didn't like that, but kept it in mind.

Michael Myers:

You were alas the last one yet again. You found the hatch, but decided to just sit down next to it and wait.

Michael was nearby, you could feel it.

Ever since... THAT, he's been focusing his attention on you, even in the camp where supposedly, no killer can come too close or enter, you felt that piercing gaze on the back of your head.

It wasn't pleasant, to say the least.

So, you decided to finally have a one-sided conversation with the Shape.

If, he lets you, of course.

It took some time, but he came forward, staring at you then the hatch, then back at you, pointing his knife slightly to your only escape.

"I know, I know, I just... Wanted to talk. If it's okay?" You stood up slowly, he lowered his knife to his usual resting position. "I'm sorry. I know it was shitty of me to do that, and I wanted to know if we could just... Go back to the usual trials?" You asked, unsure of his response.

You certainly didn't expect him to slam you against the wall behind you with a hand around your throat. He wasn't choking you, just holding it, as if you were made out of porcelain.

(Which, to be honest, compared to his strengh, your neck could be considered delecate)

You froze. His breathing was deep, but calculated and slow. He then dropped his knife (which was a surprise) and lifted his mask above his lips.

Then with the same fashion you did, he kissed you forcefully.

You stopped breathing for a moment and tensed up.

The kiss ended just as quick as the last one. Then he pulled his mask back down, let go of your neck and left, leaving his knife behind.

You returned to the camp with his knife hidden away, and shocked.

+Pyramid Head: (Ya'll, he has long tongue🤭)

He's been having bad trials lately. Something was wrong, but he didn't know what it was.

Everything just felt... Off.

Then the trial with you happened.

You were new, a complete stranger, and yet, nothing indicated that you were a bad person who deserved to be punished.

Pyramid had this dawning feeling about some survivors, and you were just the same.

Wrong place, wrong time.

He didn't find it in his soul to make people like you suffer. But sometimes. People like you just piss him off.

He finished off Ada, leaving you injured somewhere on the map. He found the hatch before you, but he ignored it and went after the smell of blood.

Then he found you and with a swift motion you were against the wall.

You tried to fight, which pissed him off some more, making him let out some grunts, but nothing made you stop.

So, he had an idea.

On the front of his head, there's a little opening for his tongue to escape.

So, he did just that and stuck it into your mouth.

It was gross, sure, it didn't feel like a normal tongue, but it was an interesting experience (for him too).

When you stopped, he took out his tongue, tossed you on his shoulder and walked back to the hatch, then he dropped you and left.

He started at his reflection for hours, not knowing WHY he just... Did what he did. But kept that in mind to do it again.

Pyramid could smell the sweet sweet arousal from you, which gave him images he never did and a new hard problem to deal with.

Screw you. (Affectionatelly)

+Evan MacMillan:

Evan had a feeling someone was down in the basement, and he was right. You were there, with your newly found flashlight, frozen in place as he took up the place in the only way for you to escape.

He knew it was over for you, so he took a step toward you, but was met with something hitting his square in the forehead, harshly.

Trapper was stunned the moment you threw a flashlight at him, hitting him on his mask and cracking the top layer off of it.

He almost dropped his weapon at the impact.

He just stood there at the stairs of the basement while you looked between the flashlight on the floor and him, mortified.

Evan huffed and marched to you, which made you let out a panicked noot noot and tried to avoid his reach, which was useless.

He grabbed you, but he didn't expect to be met with the sheer force of adrenaline from you and be slammed against the hooks pillar (is it a pillar???).

You grabbed his mask, threw it away, grabbed his face and kissed him.

He just froze up, not knowing what in the nine Hells he's suppose to do.

Then, you were running away.

The kiss was... Something else for him. Which made him hide in the basement, and just rethink his life decissions.

[chellestrash]

Private Matters

Chapter VI

Cam!Boy Frank Castle x Female Reader

Story summary: After stumbling upon a cam website one night you quickly discover your favorite streamer. Unable to get the thoughts and images of him out of your mind you decide to become a supporter and the two of you grow closer to each other over time. Things get complicated when your close friend, neighbor, and crush decides to express his feelings for you.

Chapter summary: Forced to take care of yourself on your own after Frank left for work you decide on some help from a certain someone. Some time later you meet up with your neighbor and he does his best to prove to you how bad he left for leaving you hanging the last time.

Chapter warnings: explicit language, explicit content, smut, porn, masturbation, public sex, oral sex, teasing, pet names and more stuff like that

Word count: 5.8k

A/N: Okay SO...long time no see...but it's out now! I hope you guys didn't forget this story yet, im going to finish it i promise, and I'll try to get the next chapter out a lot faster than this one. Reblogs and feedback are oh so welcome and thank you for reading! Hope you'll enjoy this one. Thank you @chelseasdagger for proofreading and helping with editing this one! Love you!

Ejoy!

Series Masterlist

So there you were, laying on your living room couch in an overwhelming silence that highlighted how lonely your apartment currently felt. With your leg falling off the seat and your eyes stuck on the ceiling above, you let the next couple of minutes pass you by, quietly reminiscing on the feeling of Frank's touch, somehow still present on your skin. Dragging your palm down your face, you sigh loudly, hoping the frustration and disappointment of the situation leaves with the breathed out air. Your eyes drop, focusing on the front door that closed behind your favorite neighbor just a moment prior. Your brain, against your will, focuses back on what could've happened if the alert on his phone hadn’t, rudely, interrupted the plans you two had for the rest of the afternoon.

Grabbing your phone, you check the notification quickly but there's nothing really worth your time.

With no further plans for the day occupying your mind, you scroll for a bit, hoping to distract your mind and make the feeling between your legs disappear before it's too late. 

With a loud sigh, you adjust your position on the couch, letting your legs fall open slowly as you close your eyes and try your best not to let your mind slip back to Frank. Unsuccessfully. 

With your eyes closed, your mind begins to wander, wander back to the touch that previously left your body so abruptly. The way Frank's fingers felt, brushing over your skin gently but impatiently. The way he pulled you closer, not wanting this moment to slip away from you, and his lips. God, his lips. Your hips shift slightly at the memory when a barely audible moan escapes your mouth. Brushing the side of your neck gently with your fingertips, you trace over the trail of kisses he left on your skin.

“God.”

You grunt, opening your eyes after realizing how dumb what you're doing had to look. After debating on texting Frank, you ultimately decide that sending him a 'Hi, I'm horny now and need your help,’ in the middle of his work day was probably not the smartest move at this point in…whatever the hell you two had going on together.

“So fucking stupid.”

You mumble, quickly unlocking your phone, knowing god-damn well what page you need to open to deal with this whole thing. You sigh, rubbing your fingers over your eyes once “The Punisher” shows up in the suggested searches before you even have the time to type out the whole name of the page. You shake your head and click on the link that takes you right where you needed to be.

You scroll past the introduction that you've previously had time to familiarize yourself with on one of your visits to the site and glance over the thumbnails for new content. Your eyes freeze for a second as you scan over the title of the nearest livestream, “highly requested”, and then the hashtags underneath “pocket pussy”. Closing your eyes, you fight against your body's initial reaction with a loud sigh and scroll past the link, instead opting for the gallery of recently added photos. 

It takes a moment to get through the new ones you haven't seen before; those that had been posted in the span of the last couple of days. The one that immediately draws your attention is a close up on the bulge in his dark gray boxers. You close your eyes for a second, and it's enough for your head to slip back to Frank. You feel the warmth of his cock under the fabric of his boxers, you feel it in the palm of your hand where you felt it not long ago and where you feel like you should still be feeling it right now. 

Pushing your legs together slightly, you open your eyes and flip through a couple more photos but find yourself unable to really focus on the guy from the internet and focusing on your next-door neighbor instead. You try a couple more photos and even a couple of the highlighted clips saved on his pages, but much to your ‘surprise’ none of them really work as well as you're sure they would if it wasn't for your little bit of Frank Castle branded fun. 

You scoff at your own thoughts loudly, rolling your eyes back and dragging your hand down your face as the frustration washed over your body once again before opening up your messages. Your thumb hovers over Frank's name for a moment as you question your choices, per usual. 

Thinking about you.

You cringe at the words instantly, shaking your head to highlight the feeling to…yourself? Working quickly on the digital keyboard, you try to word your message in a couple different ways, feeling a slight embarrassment at every single alternation, eventually steeling on a quick. 

How's work?

Hitting send, you raise your eyebrows and shake your head softly at your own incapability to talk to a man you were just about to fuck on your couch not so long ago. The message hangs in the air, unread for a while, and you assume he's busy. You let it sit there for a bit longer, attempting to distract yourself with some everyday chores around the apartment, before eventually laying back down on the couch again. No answer. 

“He's at work, he's busy.”

You explain to yourself once more and work on convincing yourself it's a pretty plausible scenario since…you knew he was working. After a few more minutes you sigh quietly, accepting your defeat.

Hesitantly, you exit the messages app and open the browser on your phone one more time. The designated page already open and ready since you didn't bother to close it up before. 

“Alright, you win.”

You mumble quietly under your breath while scrolling back up to the top of the page. Today's livestream only started a few minutes ago and as much as you hate you know their usual length, you're aware there's quite a bit of time left till he's done for the day. You click the link and stare at the small screen of your phone before deciding to grab your laptop from the other room for a more…engaged experience. 

Back on the page yet again, you click open the live transmission before sitting back on the couch and finally decide to let yourself relax properly.

You watch the quick introduction where he gets in the frame and greets the chat, quickly getting rid of his shirt, leaving him only in his dark, navy jeans and you catch yourself smiling at the deep, rumbly voice. You would be lying if you said you didn't enjoy the way he sounded. Aware of the fact that voice changers exist and people who do things like The Punisher tend to use them more often than not, you never really thought that much of his voice…well, except for how much you liked it of course and how it got to you. Besides all of that, he sounded strangely familiar, but you couldn't quite put your finger on the reason why. For some reason, you took notice of it this time more than you usually would. 

“Think I might need some help today.”

His words quickly get you to focus back on the visuals more so than the audio of the stream. The frame is, as usual, cut off right below his shoulder. There is no way to see his face and as he reads out the couple of alerts from the chat you begin to wonder if anyone actually knows what he looks like. The thoughts leave your head as quickly as they appeared the second the man on your screen stands up to approach the camera. He takes a step towards the viewers and turns to the side. “You guys seeing this?”

He starts, stating the obvious as your eyes focus on the bulge in his dark jeans. The outline of his cock is as prominent as it possibly could be. The shadows only accentuate the shape, not leaving much up to the imagination. The alerts and tips in the chat ramp up pretty quickly as the community reacts to his state. He chuckles deeply and raises his hands up, but still keeps them in frame. 

“Okay, okaaay, settle down. The show hasn't even started yet and you guys act like this?”

He clicks his tongue. 

“‘Least wait till you see it, huh?”

The cockiness of the statement makes the corner of your lips pull up slightly.

The man sits back onto his chair, pushing his legs open with a grunt, palming himself over the jeans. Your head kicks you back to the way you pushed your hand against Frank's bulge. You let your head fall back against the couch and rub your hand over your forehead, debating on closing up the site completely and calling Frank.

“He's working.”

You repeat to yourself one more time, unable to believe how hard it apparently was for you to get over the situation. It felt embarrassing, considering the fact that he most likely already moved on from what happened this morning and was definitely not slipping back to the feeling of your hands on his body every couple of minutes while desperately trying to focus on something else. Grabbing your phone off the coffee table, you check for messages one more time. No response. 

Your eyes trail back to the computer screen, and you watch the man push his hips up slightly to pull the jeans down, about halfway down his thighs, the fabric of the pants digging into his skin.

Shit.

You curse yourself in your head and throw your phone on the couch, attempting to focus entirely on the livestream now. The center of his palm rubs over his cock through the fabric of his boxers and a low, raspy grunt leaves his throat when his hips push up, chasing the sensation. You do the same, lifting your hips up to shift on the couch slightly, feeling the faint pulsation between your thighs. 

He hums quietly, slipping his hand under the fabric and wrapping his fingers around his cock.

“God damn.”

He mumbles in a low voice, inhaling through his teeth quickly once he tightens the grip around himself.

“Shit.”

You whisper, pressing your legs together, playing with the hem of your pants for a moment as you think this over one more time. 

“Aright-”

His voice makes you look back up at the screen.

“About the highly requested part…”

He starts, referencing the title chosen for today's stream. Reaching for something out of view he moves forward on the chair slightly, and you’re not sure if he does it just because or to very subtly show off the darker spot on his boxers right where the outline of his tip pushes against the fabric. With a quiet grunt, he now brings the object into the chat’s view, and you suddenly remember the tag on the video you noticed after you first opened up the page. 

You feel a slight twitch between your legs when he presents the see-through, silicone masturbator to the camera and laughs out loud.

“Yeah? S’that what y’all wanted?”

His fingers wrap around the toy and for a second you feel Frank's big palms on the sides of your face. It feels insane how despite having this whole god-damn show in front of you, your brain still clings to that moment with Frank from the morning, but you can't help it. All you can really think to do right now is to give into what your brain and your body clearly need. You rest your back against the back of the couch and quickly slip your pants down and off your legs. Letting them fall on the floor, you spread your legs open and, with your eyes on the screen and your mind back with Frank, you let your hand slip between your thighs. Humming quietly, you push into the touch and close your eyes while slowly circling your clit over the fabric of your panties. It doesn't take long before you touch yourself properly, with the livestream playing in the background and your brain unable to disconnect from the memory of the morning. You're not even surprised by the fact of how quickly you manage to get yourself close. 

With the sounds, the visuals in front of you and your brain doing its best to make sure the image of your half-naked neighbor replays in your head over and over and over again, you give into your body's intense desire.

"Oh, fuck."

He grunts again, raising his hips and stretching the toy around his length. The wet sounds spill from your laptop's speaker, and your legs twitch slightly when a loud moan follows.

"Shit."

With your eyes glued to the screen, you watch him pull the silicone sleeve up his cock, up, up and over the tip until he slips out of it completely. The thin strings of his pre-cum stretch out between his body and the toy, and you involuntarily sink your teeth into your lower lip. Allowing your brain to wander, you think about Frank again, focusing on the feeling of his bulge pressed against the palm of your hand. You try to imagine how he looked under the fabric, how he'd twitch against you if you grabbed him tighter, how he'd feel inside you. Your body reacts to the thought, legs twitch again as you speed up the movement, feeling your climax getting closer.

“...Do you think porn is cheating?”

You ask a bit unexpectedly, definitely getting the attention of a couple of people sitting around the two of you at the somewhat fancy restaurant Frank chose for your dinner date. To be completely honest, this wasn't the way you pictured him "making it up to you" like he promised the other day after he had to leave for work so abruptly, but you chose not to comment on the fact. It wasn't like you didn't want to go, or didn't enjoy this... you just simply pictured something in a slightly… different manner.

The older lady dining with her friends to your left gives you a very distinctive glare, making sure you know she heard you, and she does not think your conversation is appropriate. You choose to ignore her, rolling your eyes slightly before focusing your attention back on your date.

“Like doing it?”

Frank answers with a question, seemingly without a second thought, and you chuckle with a confused expression.

“What?!”

You shake your head, laughing louder now, ignoring another glare from the old lady and keeping your eyes on the man sitting opposite of you at the small, round table. 

“No, just- like watching?”

You explain your question, already knowing god-damn well you won't just get a straight answer, not from Frank Castle. He seems to be unable to do that, at least in any conversations he has with you.

“Ooooo, oh, just watching, huh?”

He nods with a slight smirk, poking his food with the fork, and you nod as well, giving him a big smile with your silent confirmation.

“Like, if I was watching someone do it and was thinking about you? Hmm?”  

You imply oh, so very subtly and Frank glances up now, eyebrows pulled together, the smirk never leaving that god-damn pretty face of his.

“That a confession, or?”

He teases and you roll your eyes with a loud scoff, so absolutely ready to deny the thing you confessed seconds earlier as if nothing happened.

“Oh, shut up.”

You play it off, but he's not ready to let go of it yet.

“Nah, you started, now I wanna know.”

He states, crossing his arms in front of his chest, determined to get the answer from you.

“I asked you first.”

Oh, that's very mature, you tell yourself, adding to the whole thing by mirroring his pose at the table, raising an eyebrow as you silently push him to answer your question first.

“Alright.”

He breaks first, admitting you're right with a small nod.

“I mean…guess as long as you don't know the person?”

He settles on his answer pretty quickly before taking a sip of the beer he ordered earlier. The same one he buys at the bar from you. The same one you pour with a small smile the moment you see him walking through the door at work.

“Why?”

He continues, bringing your consciousness back to the present, scrunching his nose with a cocky smile before squinting to try and read you.

“You wanna tell me something? Huh?”

He tilts his head to the side slightly before licking his lips and you realize he's serious. You don't really think he would mind it, if you told him he left you so horny you had to fuck yourself the other night.

“Oh, you wish.”

You mumble, pushing your ass back on the chair before leaning down on the table, chest exposed a bit more as you rest your chin in your hands.

“What would you wanna hear?”

The question leaves your lips and to your amusement, Frank's reaction only adds to the sudden rush of confidence that fills your entire body.

He grunts loudly, shifting on the chair slightly before clearing his throat, and you fight back the smile, sinking your teeth into your lower lip.

“Did you want me to just admit to it out loud? Hmm?”

You tilt your head to the side now with a wide grin on your face.

“Okay just-”

He starts, but you cut him off quickly.

“Did you just want to hear yes? Hmm?”

You keep pushing and he sighs loudly.

“That what you wanted me to say? Yeah, that's exactly what I did Frank, I just…”

You put on your showgirl voice and he shakes his head with a quiet,

“Christ.”

“Just couldn't help myself, couldn't stop thinking about you.”

You lower your voice and lean forward, closer to him, brushing your leg against his under the table and watching him move slightly on the chair again. 

“That what you expected to hear?”

You ask again, this time casually as if nothing ever happened, and watch as he opens his mouth but no word leaves his lips. 

“I beat you at your own game, Castle?”

He nods quickly, breathing out a quiet laugh.

“Think you did, sweetheart, yeah.”

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname and you once again curse yourself in your head, your mind slipping to your favorite pastime activity as of late. 

“Guess all that shit we did really got to you, huh?”

He speaks after a moment and you raise your eyebrows, surprised with his final attempt to gain the higher ground in this situation.

“I mean, you're the one walking out of my place with a hard on, Castle.”

You point out quickly, probably quicker than he was expecting because he chokes on the beer, caught off guard by your counterattack. 

“Alright.”

He starts, wiping his chin as you laugh louder than before, celebrating your victory, watching him be stared down the older lady who has definitely had enough of the two of you at this point in the evening.

“Alright, you think you won, huh?”

He asks menacingly, lowering his voice slightly. You nod enthusiastically, finishing your drink quickly before innocently resting your face on your hands, elbows on the table, staring straight into his big, brown eyes. 

“I do think so, yeah.”

“Mhm.”

He hums, and you know god-damn well he's not willing to give up just yet. Looking past you at the door to the bathroom, he thinks over the choice he's about to make, like he hasn't already imagined it at least three times since you started talking. 

“Know how I said I'll make that shit up to you?”

He mumbles quietly now before glancing back over his shoulder. 

"The thing we started? At your place? Hmm?"

“Yeah?”

“Think you’re up for it right now?”

He asks, leaning over the table, and you swear your vision goes a little blurry at the thought. You feel the blood rising up to your cheeks and the subtle tingling sensation between your legs. Your body answers for you as you shift in your chair slightly.

“Frank..."

He smirks, watching your reaction, before glancing around the room quickly to check for people who could potentially be listening to your conversation.

“Yeah?"

"Yeah, fuck it, let's go."

He scoffs, shaking his head before nodding towards the bathroom quickly.

"Go, I’ll pay."

“If your phone goes off again-”

You warn him, already getting up from the table and collecting your things in an excitement-filled rush. Frank chuckles loudly with a sly smirk on his face, looking around the room, impatiently waiting for one of the waiters to notice him trying to pay. You turn around and quickly make your way towards the bathroom, turning to walk down the small corridor before you stop in front of the doors. Looking back over your shoulder, you try to assess the situation. It's not like anyone from the main part of the restaurant could see at this point.

“In here.”

You jump slightly at Frank's voice as he walks over to you from behind, you feel his hand on yours and follow as he pushes the door open. 

It's one of those... more elegant looking public bathrooms; it feels fancy, it's clean, it fits the level of elegance portrayed throughout the whole restaurant.

"Don't know how long we h-"

You hear the door shut behind Frank and turn around to face him, cupping his cheeks with your palms quickly. You pull him into the kiss and he grunts into your lips loudly while you two stumble to the counter under the big mirrors on the other side of the bathroom.  With your lips pushed against his you gasp quietly, feeling the cold imitation marble pressing into your ass. You're not sure what exactly makes your brain switch off when he's this close to you. Is it the fact that you've been waiting for this since the last time you've seen each other, unable to focus on…anything really, your brain occupied by the memory of his touch. Is it the way his lips feel against yours, how he follows when you tilt your head to the side, push your tongue past his lips and your fingers through his hair? Is it the way he reads your body, knowing and understanding when, where and how to touch you?

Once again, you're not sure, but you know all you can focus on at this very moment is Frank Castle's body pushing against yours while his lips trace down your neck hungrily.

“Oh, fuck-”

You mumble, tilting your head down when the kisses grow rougher against your skin. Dragging his hand down your body, he stops right at your ass, his thumb brushing over the fabric while his other hand holds the side of your face as his lips find their way back to yours once again. 

He grunts loud once you touch him over the fabric of his pants. Pulling away from the kiss he glances down, focuses on how your fingers feel him and work over the growing bulge between his legs. He lets out a deep, low hum,  closing his eyes for a second before staring into your eyes again.

“You feel that? Hmm?”

You nod, pushing your palm against him harder, satisfied with the effect you clearly have on him. He glances back at the bathroom door over his shoulder before turning back to face you again, panting quietly as his lips part, and he asks you a question.

“You want this?”

He asks, hand slipping under the black dress you chose to wear to the dinner. His thumb brushes over the skin of your thigh and you reach forward to hook your fingers over the waistband of his pants.

“Frank, I'm not fucking leaving after all that.”

He scoffs, looking off to the side with a big smirk before looking back at you, shaking his head at your words. 

“God damn, sweetheart.”

His hand moves higher up your thigh and you push your legs apart slightly with an inviting hum. He glances back at the door one more time and you squeeze his cock tightly to get his attention back. Frank grunts, loudly this time and grabs your wrist before turning to face you again.

“Yeah, fuck it.”

He mumbles and you cup his face before pulling him close to you again. With your lips crashing against his, he slips his hands down below your ass before pulling you up and helping you up on top of the cold counter top. Pushing your legs apart, he steps between them and even closer to you. You moan into the kiss, feeling his hand touch you over the underwear under your dress, and your hips buck up into the touch. 

He chuckles against you, breaking the kiss slightly before mumbling quietly.

“Shit. Look at you.”

He teases, but you wouldn't be yourself if you just let him have it.

“Yeah, you're the one talking?”

Rubbing your palm against his cock, you feel how hard he is now, straining against the tick fabric.

He grinds, bucking into your palm, and you part your lips, grinning at his reaction.

“Shit, look at you, Frankie.”

You turn his own words against him before quickly working the zipper of his pants undone, but he wraps his fingers around your wrist before you can finish.

“Yeah, no, we're not doing that, sweetheart.”

You frown, looking at him with a confused expression as you try to read his intentions.

“Said I’ll make it up to you.”

Your legs twitch slightly at the words.

“Think I can do that?”

He mumbles with his fingers still wrapped around your wrists.

“Promised I'd do it, right?”

He continues quietly, dropping down on one knee and then slowly on the other, right here, right between your legs, right in front of you in the middle of the bathroom at a restaurant you didn't even know existed a couple of hours ago. The sounds of a busy room full of people on the other side of the wall slips through the cracks under the door.

FUCK

You curse in your head while slowly spreading your legs apart in front of him. Frank's hands move from your wrists to your thighs, rubbing slowly up and down your body. He strategically pushes the hem of your dress up your body before resting his head against your left thigh, clearly taking his fucking time.

“Frank, I swear to god if someone walks in now-."

You grunt, moving your hands away from him before quickly pulling the skirt up. He's quick to help, hooking his fingers over the hem of your panties before pulling them down your legs quickly. Making sure not to let the fabric touch the floor, he hides the small piece of fabric in his pocket before glancing over at the main door to the bathroom one more time.

"Yeah, what you gonna do then, huh?"

He asks, eyebrow raised, waiting for your answer. You roll your eyes and pull him closer.

“Shut up."

“Yes ma'am.”

He nods, pushing your legs apart more before shoving his face between them. You’re covering your mouth the second you feel Frank's tongue press against you in an attempt to silence the satisfied moan.

He chuckles, the deep, groggy sound rumbles between your legs and you buck your hips forward, chasing the feeling. Frank moves his hands to your lower back, digging his fingers into your back in order to pull you forward, closer to him. Pushing your legs apart further, you encourage him to continue, your fingers push through his hair as your mouth falls open at the warm sensation. 

“You got any idea how long I've thought about this?”

He mumbles, pulling away to stare up at you, and you tilt your head to the side.

“Oh, so you’ve pictured eating me out before, Frank?”

You point out just to get to him, fingers in his hair while he scoffs and shakes his head at your words now.

“You just can't give it a rest, huh?”

He teases, moving closer to you again. His hand moves between your legs once more, his eyes still fixed on yours. 

“Can't help it.”

You mumble, feeling the warm sensation of his breath on your skin. Your body shakes in excitement, despite your efforts to hide it, but it's not like there's much you can do to fight against it. 

“Can't get over the fact that you've thought about it before, either.”

You admit, and he glances up at you again before pushing his tongue between your folds. Your hips push forward and you moan quietly, letting yourself enjoy the feeling.

“Have you?”

Frank mumbles against your body quickly before continuing to work like that.

“Frank-”

You start, biting into your lower lip as you grip his hair tighter once he makes you feel even better. 

“Mhm?”

“Do you-”

You grunt as he chooses to continue talking.

“You seriously think,”

Another grunt as you feel yourself getting closer.

"You seriously think I haven't thought about us fucking before?”

Frank's loud grunt fills the bathroom of the restaurant, and your eyes widen slightly at the sound. His tongue presses harder against you and the pace grows faster as you let your head fall back, resting against the big mirror on the wall behind you.

The pleasure building up inside your body successfully manages to drown out the outside noise of the busy restaurant and for a moment you completely forget where you are. Your eyes close and your mind slips back to your apartment, to how you two got so close only a day before this, how he promised he'd make it all up to you and, now, taking care of how you feel—he was doing exactly that.

Your body twitches, warning both you and him that you're now closer than either of you thought you were. 

“Really?”

He starts, going for another tease, but you push your legs together, pressing them against either side of his head and he grunts loudly once more. 

“Don't-”

You attempt to steady your breathing, scolding him.

“Don't even start.”

You warn him, wrapping your legs around his back and feel how they shake with his deep laugh. 

“Okay, yeah, let me just-”

He focuses completely on you from that moment and you can tell. His fingers dig into your legs as he holds you close. The tip of his nose brushes your clit while his tongue slips inside you. He looks up from time to time, searching for encouragement, seeking your approval or watching your reaction.

“Oh, fuck-”

The words slip past your lips and act as a cue for him, opening his mouth wider as he works his tongue against your clit. Making sure it feels good to you, he works your body with his tongue, his mouth, brushing over your exposed thighs with his rough fingers.

You feel your heart pounding against your chest, the blood rushing to your cheeks, and your body shaking slightly as he finally pushes you over the edge. Your entire body clenches around him once he slips his fingers inside you quickly. You grip onto his body, your hips bucking up and into his touch as you ride out the climax. The many moans, probably louder than they should be, escape your mouth before he moves his hand up to your mouth. 

“Shhhh.”

He whispers, chuckling between the loud pants while watching your body slowly calm down after everything now.

You swallow hard; you're breathing faster than normal, your heart pounding in your chest, your legs now pressed together as you feel your body keep twitching at the memory of the feeling.

“Shit.”

You mumble quietly, attempting to get down from the bathroom counter, managing to succeed after another moment. Your legs shake slightly and you hold onto Frank when he gets up from his knees. 

“You okay?”

He asks, staring at your reflection as you do your best to make yourself look somewhat presentable again. 

“Don't- just don't-.”

You take a deep breath in, earning yourself another chuckle from your neighbor before he steps up to the sink, deciding to clean himself up. You straighten up your dress and turn around to look at his reflection. 

“So now should I-”

You start, moving closer to him, but before he can answer the bathroom door swings open suddenly. 

You all freeze for a moment: Frank, you and the man now standing by the bathroom door. There's a moment of silence where neither of you know what to say and as you turn to face the young looking waiter directly with your mouth open, he decides to take the initiative.

“You…shouldn't be here, Miss.”

He points out the obvious, clearly not really sure how to react, and you decide to make it as easy for all of you as possible.

“Oh shit, it's the men’s room? I'm so sorry, I didn't realize.”

You grab onto Frank's wrist, speed walking past the confused worker and make your way around the many tables and unsuspecting people, quickly moving towards the main entrance to the restaurant, leading him outside. A loud, relieved sigh leaves your body once you finally make your way outside. 

“Okay so…”

You start after a moment when the cool, evening air sobers you up a bit. Clearing your throat, Frank does the same, trying his best to ignore the way his cock strains against the fabric of his pants.

“Yeah, we should…”

“You wanna call an Uber?”

You suggest, and he nods quickly, pulling up his phone at the same time.

“We’ll get back faster.”

“Yep.”

You nod, fighting back the big smile quickly growing on your face as you watch him work his phone, casually taking care of your transport as if nothing ever happened. 

The car shows up shortly after he books the ride and you get inside after Frank opens the door for you. You hold onto the back of your dress as you bend down to get into the car and you hear a quiet chuckle behind you.

You take your seat and Frank does the same, resting his hand on your thigh the second you nudge your knee into his, his fingers digging into your skin as he clears his throat. Shifting on the backseat sligtly he pulls the fabric of his pants away from his body, doing his best to keep it together and not let his mind slip back to the images from couple minutes ago.

“You think they’ll let us inside next time?”

He tilts his head closer to you and you breathe out a laugh.

“I mean we didn’t do anything.”

You lower your voice, glancing at the driver before resting your head against Franks shoulder.

“I think no one saw us…except that one guy.”

“Yeah okay, ill let you belive that.”

You laugh again, before exhaliging loudly.

Frank glance at his phone, making sure the driver has the correct  address, the building you two lived at, before relaxing into the backseat.

“So, you guys having a good evening?”

The man attempts to strike up a conversation and you quickly turn to Frank, watching his stoic expression while he nods.

“Guess you could say that.”

His palm squeezes your leg tightly before he pulls you in closer, letting you rest your body against his completely.

Taglist:

taglist

@chelseasdagger @lorilane33 @dreadfulxives18 @5thelement @desert-fern

@joybabyjune @ohgodthebogisback

@barnesbabee @babeincolor @liadamerondjarin @therashslingingslasher @lostfleurs @httpwintersoldier @witchychanel @atemydadforbreakfast @sumo-b98 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocksstarlight @violetcyerce

@groovypandaeagle @aishaleblanc @corruptedfool

[dtrghost]

omg this is my first time requesting but TF141 with a reader whose love language is insulting them ( they probably insult her back 😭) thank you!!!

That is so me. Literally.

Synopsis: TF141 With a reader who just can't help but insult them, yes. This contains Johnny, Simon, Price, and dearest Kyle

Warnings: 18+ Content and references to smut, cursing, etc

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

Now with this guy, it definitely goes both ways. At first he was confused and rather offended with the insults you threw at him, followed by your head falling back to laugh at what he thought was him. You noticed how he got upset and quickly reassured him that you meant no harm by it and that it was just how you showed you loved him. He found it weird at first, but he accepted it, knowing that he meant the world to you and simply followed along.

"Hey Ghost, maybe if you weren't so ass at shooting we wouldn't have to do this stupid training exercise." He huffed, rolling his eyes at your wheezy laugh as you put your sniper down for a minute, cackling loudly and hitting your chest to get some air into your lungs.

"Right, I hit your cervix pretty when I was fucking you like a slag last night." You gasped, both of your cracking up even more as you gently shoved him. Now, there's a downside to your language, because god forbid you crack a joke about him that he didn't like, especially when he was already mad to begin with, like after a failed mission, he'd be sure to let you know just where your bad mouth would get you.

"Just like that, my perfect little slut." He'd moan, fucking your mouth and forcing his cock deep into your throat as you gagged and choked around him.

"Put that dirty little mouth of yours to better use."

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish:

He didn't get mad, he first gave you a puppy look, thinking you meant the insults you threw at him. But when you took your time to explain yourself, he'd laugh it off and gave you the go ahead. Johnny had nothing to be insecure about, he was hot, he had money, and he was the youngest candidate to pass the SAS selection, so he took what you said with a grain of salt.

"Weird they call you soap, smells like you haven't used any in days." He just chuckled, wrapping his arms around you with a wolfish grin.

"Alright lass. I'll let you have that one." You had been right at the time, he just got back from a mission where he sat in the mud for god knows how long and then had to lug his ass to the landing zone in the rain. Don't get me wrong, he'll bite back lightheartedly, but he loves soaking up your love for him, even if it isn't the most conventional.

But when he's not having it, you get to see the less light, funny side of him. He'd been fucking you stupid, pounding into you madly with his hand wrapped around your throat. You begged for him to let up, your legs shaking as tears rushed down your cheeks.

"Sorry lass? Couldn't quite hear ya. Mind tryin' again for me?" And he'd squeeze tighter to ensure not a word was heard from you.

"This'll teach you to behave darling. Remind you to address your sergeant properly."

Captain John Price:

This man is a DILF. Hot damn. To be frank, he's a laidback captain. He's not going to overreact and threaten to dishonorable discharge you for insubordination and disrespecting a superior officer because you told him he had a small dick. At first he was a bit surprised how comfortable you were insulting him with his rank, but if anything he liked it. He liked a challenge, though it was an easy one for him.

"You never react ya know. Why is that? The rest of the team bites back and you just, take it." He chuckled at your observation, shrugging and shooting a quick glare at the man who almost took a sit next to you at the bar you both occupied.

"I know you like the back of my hand princess. The insults you throw at those soldiers are far different than the ones handed to me. It's love princess, all it is." He then relentlessly teased you about the deep redness in your cheeks which you countered with eye rolls and mocking faces, because he was right, and he knew that. He analyzed everything you've ever said and done to him, how your body reacts, how your eyes portray every intention and emotion you're sending him.

But, just like the rest. Sometimes Price had to fuck the brat out of you. You'd made a comment, and he was having a rough day.

"How's the sex life then? Old man like him able to keep it up?" Soap joked.

"Some viagra wouldn't hurt. Maybe it'd actually get me to the yellow brick road." DAAAAMMMNNNN. Was the essential reaction. Of course you drew back and told him you were kidding, but the tight grip he had on your waist was a tell tale sign that he didn't like what he heard.

"You sure about that love? Don't wanna take it back before it's too late?" He whispered huskily into your ear. He knew you wouldn't, he knew you liked being his dirty little slut.

"That's it. Taking your daddy's cock like you were meant to. You reach that yellow brick road yet love? fuck sure looks like it, you've made a mess all over m'cock already."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

You and Kyle fit perfectly, like a match made in heaven. It was like a challenge between the two of you on who had the better insults. He's incredibly intelligent, 500 IQ lookin ass. But sometimes you were just that much better, and he accepted that wholeheartedly, because at the end of the day, this was how you showed your love, and he wanted nothing more to embrace that.

Sometimes he'd even reward you. He'd get touchy (more than usual) and the day would end with him on his knees in front of you, worshipping your pussy and body like it's what he was made to do.

"I'm so lucky to have such a smart, clever girl like you. Fuck you're perfect in every way." And you were. Even if you could be the meanest fucker on the planet.

And that's it!! I'm sorry if it didn't meet your expectations or you had something different in mind but based off what I've read this is what I think they'd be like!! Thank you for the request @angieisbroke and I hope you enjoyed <333.

[minty-mumbles]

Whumptober Day 3: “Make it stop”

TW: Blood and injury, medical aid without painkillers, restraints, unreliable narrator (kind of)

A/N: Yeah I know it's the 5th and this is late. I forgot I was doing whumptober to be totally honest, I'm so sorry lol

(Read on AO3)

~~~

Let it be known that Wind hated Wild’s era. He really did. 

Wind hated Wild’s stupid era because it had stupid moblins who had stupid bomb barrels that they liked to pick up and throw. 

To be frank, Wind was used to explosions. Many members of their group didn’t hesitate to use bombs for their own benefit. But the heroes’ habit of exploding things was only fun and exciting when it was them who were the ones doing the exploding. When it was a moblin in Wild’s era with a bomb barrel, it was decidedly less fun.

Fuck.

Wind winced as he was jostled slightly, the movement sending shooting pain through his back

Damn Wild’s era. Damn it all to Demise. 

Wind was jostled again, and a strangled wheeze forced itself from his mouth. Distantly, Wind could hear the heavy drawl of Twilight’s accent. The rancher was probably apologizing. 

Wind hummed in acknowledgment, but didn’t pick his head up from the shoulder it was resting on. He tightened his hold around Twilight’s neck the best he could without strangling him. As hard as he tried, though, it was difficult to keep a grip on someone when you were bleeding out. Twilight’s arms hooked under Wind’s legs were really the only thing keeping Wind from falling to the ground at this point.

Every step Twilight took was agony, making what was left of his tunic rub against the open wounds on his back. They'd been walking for at least ten minutes now, and Wind’s world had narrowed down to the repetitive movement and corresponding spikes of pain that came with it. 

He was broken out of his daze when Twilight's gate slowed down. Wind lifted his head ever so slightly, and found that they had arrived at their destination.

A stable. Wind couldn't remember which one it was.

Wind barely had time to send up a silent prayer of thanks to whatever god allowed them to finally arrive before people were swarming out of the strangely shaped tent and surrounding Twilight and Wind.

Wind only tucked his head back into the crook of Twilight’s neck, trying his best to ignore both the loud conversation happening around him and the blood he could feel trickling down his back.

What he wouldn’t give to be wrapped up in a warm blanket in front of a fire right now. Maybe with a cup of hot apple cider, cuddled up against one of the other heroes. Maybe Sky…. Sky was the best at cuddles, even if he had a tendency to fall asleep and then not let you go until he woke. But Wind wouldn’t mind that right now, to be honest.

He would love to be able to cuddle someone and have their arms wrapped around his back without any pain. Wind knew that was a wistful thought. No one would be touching his back without it causing pain anytime soon. 

That stupid moblin had made sure of that. 

Wind hoped one of the other heroes had killed it in a very painful way. He scowled into Twilight's neck at the thought of what had happened, and- 

Oh, Twilight was moving again. 

Great.

Wind sighed, and fought back tears. He was in pain and this whole situation sucked, but he was not going to cry.

He wasn’t.

He just felt dizzy. His thoughts were swimming and his muscles were too weak to support himself. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t convince himself to raise his head from where it was buried in Twilight’s pelt and try to focus on his surroundings. That was probably the effect of the blood loss and shock setting in, Wind thought faintly.

But then he had no choice but to move because Twilight was releasing Wind’s legs. Wind had half a second to panic, thinking he would hit the ground. 

He didn’t. Instead, he found himself sitting on the edge of one of the beds inside the stables. Wind wondered briefly when they had moved inside, but decided it wasn’t the most important thing at the moment. 

Suddenly, hands were touching him. For a few seconds, he resisted the touch. He didn’t know who was touching him and he did not appreciate it. But he was too weak to do anything about it and found himself being maneuvered anyways. 

He found himself laying face down in the bed. His face rubbed into the fabric beneath him, and it took him a second to realize that it wasn’t the blankets he was feeling. It was a towel, spread out over the bed. 

That was good. Wind was glad someone had thought to do that. He wouldn’t want to get blood on the stable’s bed. That would be pretty rude. But! With the towel under him, Wind could take a nap here and not get any blood on the bed! That sounded like a really good idea, in Wind’s humble opinion.

And now that he wasn’t constantly being jostled around by Twilight, the pain was actually starting to fade! It still hurt, but it was a dull background pain that he could ignore. 

Wind didn’t know how long he lay there, content to drift in and out of awareness. He could hear people talking around him, and something that maybe sounded like an argument, but he didn’t worry about that. He was sure it would sort itself out without his help…

He gave a little sigh, rubbing his face against the rough fabric of the towel. It felt nice- a sensation to focus on other than the pain in his back.

He continued to drift for what felt like a long, long time. He wondered if the others had left so he could take a nap. That was nice of them… 

A touch to his neck startled Wind out of his daze. He let out a startled breath, feeling too tired to try and say anything. Fingers pressed at Wind’s neck for a moment- feeling for a pulse, Wind realized- before they withdrew.

There was more talking, and then an expectant pause. Wind said nothing. If they wanted him to talk, they were out of luck. He couldn't summon up the energy to go wading through the fog that clouded his brain to pay attention to whoever was talking to him. He couldn't summon up the energy to anything,

After a few moments of silence, the voices picked up again, and then Wind felt a touch on his back.

His torn up back which was covered in open wounds and pierced by pieces of debris 

Wind decided that he didn’t like that. He didn’t like it at all. 

Then the touch was moving and tugging something out of Wind’s skin, and Wind discovered that he did have the energy to scream and thrash, after all.

For one blissful moment, the touch was gone, and Wind was hopeful it would stay away. Then hands wrapped around his legs and his upper arms, and were pressing him down onto the bed, and Wind felt all his hope flickers away.

The torture seemed to go on forever. Every so often there would be a pause in the pain as the touch on his back drew away, and Wind would hope that it would be over. But all too soon, the touch would be back.

He couldn’t get away from it.

The hands clasped around his limbs were gentle but firm and unyielding. Wind hated that. He hated everything. Everything hurt, nothing was good, and the pain was never going to end.

There was another spike of pain from his back, like someone was digging their fingers into his existing wounds and tearing the cuts further open. Wind twisted, still trying to get away, but the hands stopped him again.

He gave a strangled grunt, his voice finally being pushed past the breaking point. He couldn’t scream anymore, but he could still move. His shoulders were still being held down by the hands pressing on his upper arms, but he could still move his arms. He reached out blindly, trying to find something to grasp onto, some bit of leverage that could get him away from this torture,

What he found instead was more fabric. Part of the towel, maybe? 

No, it felt different. 

Not caring what it might be, Wind gripped it hard, and used it to pull himself forward. To his surprise, the hands didn’t seem as prepared for this, and he was able to drag himself forward. There was a swell of noise around him that he ignored. The new fabric beneath him was soft, and the worry of staining the sheets was long gone from Wind’s mind, so he buried his head into it.

Apparently, the hands had decided Wind could stay where he had dragged himself. They didn’t shove him back to his previous position, but the torturous touch on his back returned.

Wind whimpered, not knowing what to do anymore. 

Why was this happening?

Slowly, though, something trickled into his mind. He was hyper-aware of any and all sensations that weren’t pain in hopes of finding something to latch onto, something else to focus on. Slowly, ever so slowly, Wind realized the new fabric was warm under his touch.

He sucked in a shuddery breath, and before he registered what he was doing, Wind was lifting his head up to stare straight into a familiar face.

It took his brain a few seconds to register safety and comfort at the sight, and a few seconds more to register that the face belonged to Time.

Oh.

Wind was clinging onto Time’s pants, and he’d just had his face buried in Time’s lap.

Okay. 

Wind knew in normal circumstances, he’d be embarrassed, but he didn’t care.

Time was here.

One of his brothers was here.

That meant everything would be okay, right?

Wind blinked up at Time, and the man looked down at Wind with an odd look on his face. 

Wind wanted it all to stop, and Time was good at making painful things stop. When the teasing from the other heroes got to be too much, Time would step in. When Wind had been injured before, Time had stitched him up with gentle, steady hands. When Wind had been kept up with nightmares, Time had made him a cup of tea over the campfire, and let Wind lean against him without any questions.

Time had never failed to offer comfort before.

“Time,” Wind croaked, his voice ruined, “make it stop. Please, make it stop.”

But Time didn’t help. He was looking up, away from where Wind was being pinned down by his hands. Wind thought Time’s mouth might have been moving, but he couldn’t tell what Time was saying, let alone if the old man was speaking to Wind or someone else. 

No matter what Time was saying, he wasn’t letting Wind go, so it didn’t matter. 

Time wasn’t helping Wind, it wasn't making the pain stop. 

Time was hurting him.

Wind was shaking now, unable to stop himself. He was too tired to cry, in too much pain the thrash anymore. Everything was getting worse, and no one was helping him.

It was a relief, really, when he finally slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

[writingkitten]

Favorite sex position by each character?

I am down BAD for our newly arrived chief inspector.

Oh fuckin christ I’m high let’s gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ricardo: DOGGY STYLE HE WANTS TO GRAB YOUR HAIR AND PULL YOU BACK AS HE FUCKS YOU DEEP AND HARD HIS OTHER HAND TIGHTLY GRIPPING YOUR THIGH AS HE USES ALL OF HIS STRENGTH TO POUND YOU

Otto: spooning, so like laying on your side, your back against his chest, an arm wrapped underneath that plays with your nipples, the other arm over your waist as he plays with your pussy/cock, his own cock sluggishly pumping in and out oh fuck me

Doc Ock (YEAH TWO DIFFERENT ONES BEECHES): leap frog!!!! Similar to doggy style, except you have your upper body laid out flat, forming a slope. Makes your ass easier to grab and control, also enjoys laying on top of you in this position, both of your asses in the air so he’s basically jackhammering at this point.

Robert: cowgirl 🤠 he loves watching you bounce on his cock, his hands gripping your hips (but not moving you just kinda holding on to you for dear life because you feel so good on him he’s imagined this for so long and now it’s happening and it’s better than he ever thought) he also loves “Flatiron” so he can pin you down with his bear of a body and fuck you while you can’t move so you just have to accept what he gives you

Arden: 69 that boy wants your pussy/cock SUFFOCATING him while you suck his cock and he fingers you

Harding: face-off (similar to cowgirl, but he’s sitting up instead of laying flat) Harding likes to rut into you while holding you in a tight embrace, his face buried in your neck as he gives you soft sloppy kisses with the occasional nibble

Harold: my sweet boy loves missionary it’s so passionate and intimate and he can just press his lips against yours as he caresses your body

Diego: “G-Whiz” god that is a fucking stupid name just throw your legs on his shoulders while grinds his cock into the spot you love the most

Frank: spread eagle missionary? If that makes sense? Like missionary, but you’re tied down, limbs spread as far as they’ll go, fully exposed. He doesn’t want any resistance, from clothing, from other body parts, and definitely not from you. He likes playing with his little toy.

Armand: you shoved against the wall, legs wrapped around his waist (MY PLUS SIZE COMRADES ARMAND CAN LIFT THE WEIGHT OF THE UNIVERSE I DONT CARE HOW THICK WE ARE HE CAN AND WILL PICK US UP AND HOLD US BY OUR THIGHS)

Edelweiss: it’s gonna be some weird shit hold on let me Google it… seated wheelbarrow. Actually looks kinda hot, ngl. Arms might get tired though.

Dunlop: reverse face-off, so your back is against his chest. He likes to play with your cock/pussy while he thrusts up inside of you, the occasional spank from the other hand

Chandler: same as Armand, but here’s the difference — Armand wants to fuck you against the wall of his living room late at night with raining hitting the window, whereas Chandler wants to fuck you against the wall of a dark alleyway, the bricks slick with rain and digging into your back as you both get soaked, torn between wanting someone to see you being a pathetic slut and being ready to tear out the throat of anyone who dares to see you like this because you belong to him and him alone.

Manuel: “The Om” (wtf is up with the names???) Manuel loves making you pay for your sins (aka hardcore bdsm) BUT he also loves playing the role of the loving bishop who cares for his flock and wants to help stop one from going astray because sex with a man of god isn’t a sin in fact it’s one of the best ways you can show your dedication to god because you’re pleasuring one of his messengers and so he uses this position (where he’s holding you tight, skin pressed against sin, bodies fully exposed and melded as one, so close that all he can do is grind his hips to offer some movement from the cock deep inside you)

Andres: bent over his desk, preferably drooling on all of his paperwork so he can punish you

Dick: bent over his desk, preferably drooling on all of his writing so he has a memento of your passionate lovemaking

Horvath: missionary BUT really hard rough fucking like you’re bruised from his thighs slamming against your skin

Boris: reverse spooning! He’s gets to cuddle you AND make love to you ANNNND he can suck your nipples/kiss you??? Sign him up!!!!!!

Hank Spallone (let’s say this is AU Not A Total Ass): listen this is kinda farfetched but stick with me okay? So like reverse seated wheelbarrow, but you’re hidden under a desk while he addresses the public. He’d love to have everyone see you dripping on his cock, but sadly people frown upon public figures doing things like that. Alternatively, the “Valedictorian” pose.

I learned a lot of new positions from this thank you for the opportunity to educate myself also I’m wet

Edit: don’t forget that just because that one position is their favorite, doesn’t mean they aren’t obsessed with the other ones. They have their preference, but as long as they’re inside you they’re happy

[leuchtstabrebell]

Whumptober Day 3 / Prompt: "Like crying out in empty rooms, with no one there except the moon"

It is a strange thing for a vampire to lose their religion.

His father says that Herbert was a pious child. He would not only go to church every Sunday but was fascinated with various saints and even wanted to become a monk for some time. His favorite was Saint Sebastian, of course. One of the only memories he has of his mother is her face in the candlelight of the church, the candles they had just lit together. Her face is surrounded by a halo, so Herbert has never been completely sure if she really looked like that or if he hasn’t infused the memory with the picture of the Virgin Mary that was painted one on of the windows of the church. He loved the heavenly hymns and he loved to praise the Lord. And even though once he got older, he indulged in all kinds of sins, lust and pride chief among them, he remorsefully repented every week.

Then he died and God died with him and that was that. Or so he had thought.

When they came this time, Herbert thought he was safe. Yes, he might have embarrassed Carl in front of his peers – he really made it too easy to do so, let’s be honest, but Daniel, Carl and Andrew loved to hurt him only when nobody could see. This time, however, Ludwig was with them. And even though he would not call the mortal a friend – he wasn’t so foolish as to call any mortal a friend – he and Ludwig had come to an understanding. And maybe it was just the starvation and loneliness speaking but he did care for the young man to some extent and thought that this feeling might be mutual. He had not forgotten that it had been Ludwig who provided him with a blanket and fresh clothes, who saw him as a person worthy of some form of dignity.

The fact that Ludwig looked deeply uncomfortable should have been the first sign that something was wrong. “On your knees, face to the wall!” Daniel called before they even entered the cell. Apparently, they were capable of learning from their mistakes after all.

“Why should I?” Herbert called back and instead remained sitting on his bed, one leg crossed over the other. “If I were you, I wouldn’t risk entering this cell. Remember what happened to your buddy? What was his name, again? Frank? Fridolin? Doesn’t matter. You can give him all sort of names now. One-Armed Freddy, or something like that.” He grinned.

“Shut up,” Andrew said coldly. “Don’t think that we won’t make you pay.”

Herbert laughed. “Well, for that you’ll have to enter the cell first.”

Carl smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. We’ll be very close to you in no time.”

Herbert gave them his fakest smile, but his eyes flicked around the room in panic, looking for potential dangers.

“And then you’ll wish you’d obeyed,” Daniel said, “But we’ll be nice and give you another chance. Get on your knees now, face the wall, hands behind your head.”

“Fuck you.”

He had not been so openly defiant in weeks, and it felt good, if dangerous. Ludwigs presence assured him that whatever they would do would be nothing compared to what he had been through before.

Daniel sighed deeply at his response. Then he opened the door and in the blink of an eye, Herbert had closed the distance between them and wrapped his hands around the unprotected neck of Daniel, only to recoil in pain when his skin met something burning hot. A fucking rosary. Of course. He struggled to stay upright, both with the pain and the exhaustion that had followed the sudden, strenuous movement. It had more been the sound of blood rushing through veins then any real escape-plan that had lent him the strength to leap if he was being honest.

“God, you just keep trying. You really are a stupid, mindless creature,” Carl said and also entered the cell, along with the other two men. Herbert snarled at them, a frightened animal looking for an exit.

Ludwig closed the door, a strange look on his face. While Herbert was busy watching him, Daniel had stepped closer again, and now suddenly shoved him in the chest. The impact wasn’t strong, but Herbert was weak and unprepared, and stumbled. Another shove, and another, and Herbert fell to the floor, only just keeping his head from hitting the cold stone beneath. He struggled to get back to his feet fast but was held back by a cruel hand on the top of his head, pushing him down on his knees. Herbert didn’t dare to try and get up.

“Good boy,” mocked Carl, to whom the hand belonged. “I see you’ve finally managed to obey our very simple order.”

“And now the next order: Open your mouth,” Daniel said, and pulled out a familiar brass container. Holy water. With dawning horror, Herbert watched as he came closer with the container.

He shook his head, shaking of Carl’s hand while doing so. “No,” he said. “Absolutely not.” He scrambled backwards, or tried to, but the cell wasn’t that big, and there wasn’t anywhere to escape to. He tried to make himself as small as possible, curling into himself, but Andrew, the strongest of the men, grabbed him by the forearms and pulled him open, while Carl leaned his weight on Herberts legs, spreading them out. Ludwig was still standing in the corner and looked as if he wanted to say something. Their eyes met for a brief moment.

Then Ludwig looked away.

Daniel stepped closer and opened the container. He held it in one hand and with the other caressed Herbert’s throat and chin.

“Open your mouth,” he repeated. Herbert tried to twist away but the other two were holding him tight in place.

Daniel cocked his head in thought, then lifted the container to Herbert’s face and poured the holy water onto his face, right in the space between his mouth and nose, so that some of it found it’s way to his nostrils. He gasped out in horror and pain, involuntarily opening his mouth. Daniel immediately used the opportunity to pour some of the water downs his throat as well. For a short, blissful moment, his body hadn’t yet fully registered the pain. Then it came, a giant wave of agony. It felt like the inside of his body was peeling, like boiling water was destroying everything inside. Immediately, his body tried to get the fluid out again. He started heaving, his body shaken by the pain and the effort.

“If you vomit, I’ll make you lick it all up,” Daniel said. Finally, and Herbert barely noticed it through the haze of the all-consuming pain, Ludwig spoke up.

“That’s enough,” he said. “You wanted your revenge; you have it now. Let’s leave.”

Herbert’s body was still rebelling and heaving, his throat and face and mouth and stomach hurting. There was pure acid inside of him, and the men were still holding him down. Finally, he couldn’t keep it together anymore, no matter how hard he tried, and vomited up some of the water. To his horror, he released that it was a reddish-black, and that there were pieces of flesh in it. The sick had also landed partially on Carl, who yelped in disgust.

“Fucking idiot,” he cursed. He got up but Herbert was too weak to use the opportunity and get away.

“What did we tell you?” Carl asked and slapped him hard across his face. Herbert tried to speak but to his horror realized that he wasn’t sure he could use his throat. There was something seriously wrong with it, as if his vocal cords were only partially intact.

“Answer me!” Carl demanded and slapped him again. When that didn’t work, he took one of the crosses he carried with him and held it directly in front of his eyes.

“If you don’t answer me, I’ll put this thing straight through your eye. What did we tell you about throwing up? Hm?”

Shaking, Herbert tried to force his voice to work, feeling as if he was using a razor on the inside of his throat.

“Not… do it.” It came out garbled, wrong. Herbert felt like sobbing but even that hurt too much and oh hell, the holy water was still in him and burning through his stomach.

“So why don’t you be nice and apologize for getting my clothes dirty?”

Herbert shook from the effort. Tears of the water-blood mix were running down his cheeks and Herbert wondered if they would leave deep tracks, down to his flesh. He wasn’t sure he could feel his face. Where it was supposed to be, there was only a void of pain.

He must have lost consciousness for a moment because he was in a slightly different position when he opened his eyes again. Carl was still looking at him expectantly and it took Herbert a minute to remember that he was supposed to apologize.

“Sorry,” he forced out.

“We’re leaving. Now,” Ludwig said from farther away, and maybe Herbert was imagining it, but he thought that he sounded horrified.

The others protested but Ludwig stayed adamant.

“I’ll tell Van Helsing and the Professor what you did,” Ludwig threatened, which finally convincing the others to leave. Although Ludwig had probably prevented worse mistreatment, through the mist of the pain, Herbert felt betrayed by him. The fact that he had allowed them to do this and hadn’t spoken up until it became too ugly for him felt so bitter. It shouldn’t have, probably, but it did. He thought he would be safe as long as Ludwig was there. He was supposed to be safe at least for a little time. Fuck.

They left him lying there, curled together on the floor, his body convulsing and cramping.

Herbert prayed that night. He called out for someone, something, to get him out, to release him from the pain. For the first time in years, he thought about the golden candlelight and the stained windows and his first act of eating another human – communion. He prayed to Saint Sebastian, and he prayed to Saint Andrew, and to Saint Irene, and to anyone who might listen. He prayed to God and the Devil, to the Universe. And when all of that did not work, he cried for his Dad.

He must have been better than the greatest ascetic martyrs. He hadn’t eaten for so long, and he was brought low, and he was dirty and humbled, and he was prostrating on the cold stone floors, and still, nothing.

Finally, Herbert realized with the absolute certainty of a believer that there was no one. Not for him. There was no help coming. There wasn’t even a reckoning to come. God was not dead. He had simply never existed. Intellectually, of course, he had known that for years. But there must have been the tiniest part of himself that had kept believing, that had wanted to believe in something greater, something sublime. It had been, after all, in integral part of his upbringing and had still shaped the way he saw the world around him. No matter. It was extinguished now.

The deep conviction of nothingness took root in his core, and as it did so, Herbert felt the pain receding to an uncomfortable but bearable feeling. Surprised, he slowly and carefully uncurled and moved up to the bed.

With the morning came the dawning realization of three things: First, that he had truly stopped believing in any higher power. Second, that he could suddenly very much bear the presence of Holy Water and Crosses. And third, that these facts changed absolutely everything.

[inkybinkyboink]

the hunchback of notre dame characters and what i would do if they sat next to me on the bus:

*dramatic scenario* you know how like??? public transport gets really crowded? like every seat is taken except for two so you sit down accepting the inevitable fate that some random stranger is gonna sit next to you, and as the doors open at the next stop you brace yourself for whoever’s audacious or stupid enough to take the open spot? yeah that’s what this is

quasimodo: ok so like immediately i would feel bad for him i think. like the bus is crowded and this does not look like a man who is physically or mentally comfortable in any sort of crowded space. i would make painfully awkward attempts to give him more room, but consistently worry that every attempt is just coming off as me being anti-social and not wanting to be near him even though that’s the last thing they are. 

esmerelda: i would 100% angle my bookbag so that she might see all of the pins i have on my bag that scream “gay, queer, accepting, please say hi you look very nice”. if i’m feeling cavalier enough i might compliment her because you KNOW her makeup, brows and hair are perfect and deserve to go noticed. 

phoebus: oh dear lord okay uh,,,i would be scared? like this fucking 6ft cis ass looking dude sits next to me on the bus??? yknow how i said i would angle my bag towards esmerelda so she can see? ok well it’s angled as far away as possible from phoebus just in case. i would stare out the window and not make eye contact. the brief moment we do is the most embarrassing thing that happens that day.

clopin: bro? again, i would be fucking scared. like i realize that this man would probably defend any random stranger who gets bullshit for doing nothing wrong, but the idea of clopin scares me. like i love the guy, i do, i love how absurd and ridiculous he is. but to be frank, if he sits down next to me on public transit you know he smells like a goddamn blunt and he would be at least a little bit gross. oh my god no yknow what, clopin’s that one random bastard who says hi to you. clopin would say hi to me and i would go, “hi?” and then immediately put my headphones back on and stare at my phone.

frollo: the bookbag is under the bus seat. i am physically turned away and panicking about how the fuck im gonna get off at my stop if this fucking crusty old guy doesn’t get off before me. 

jehan: similar to phoebus but i think i would just be kind of marveling at how tall this dude is. i think i would also feel bad because you KNOW this bitch does not have nearly enough leg room. 

[yxyolax]

Valentine shenanigans

I thought it would be nice to give some updates of my life to my page where no one would find and read it. Haha!

As what I deduced a month ago, his regret and his confession means nothing but an attempt to get into my pants. And he did get into my pants. After all, I was sexually attracted to him all along. He started to hit the gym and sometimes I found it kinda hot. Even at times he would still kinda forcing his way to me and kept making me take that stupid contraceptive pill which ruined my hormones (thank you, asshat). I am proud to announce that he has found himself another girl to date, after leaving me stressed out from the pills side effects. It really show me how he really are. Acted as if he cares but it was as clear as day that he doesn’t. Well, I don’t care much beside how unfair I felt about it. I feel like a doormat, where he can rub off his dirty shoes before entering the house. And of course, the house being his new little birdy. Seeing how badly he treat me at the end after harassing me when I already dating someone, love-bombing me just because he need a little validation he couldn’t get from his family. To be frank, I almost pity that little man. Poor lad thinking he could get away after what he did to me.

He was nice to me at times, but, what he did overshadow all of the small gifts he gave to me. Not to sound ungrateful, it just that he stomp on my heart over and over again like I have no value or what so ever to him after I gave him my body and trust. Him getting new girl to love actually kind of make me glad that I can finally be free from him. Even after how much he hurt me, actually I kind of want to thank him for everything he gave me, really. I just, I wish I never met him.

Enough about that little disappointment I used to call my dear. Valentine’s day was meh. I did have an ice cream date with Ruben on the evening. We kind of chatted about work environment and stuffs. I also gave him chocolate just to be cheesy and all. Not a big deal. UNTILL! He went home and our conversation continue on text. We were talking about hook up culture in his office bla bla bla., and out of nowhere, he told me that IF I ever give him some kind of sex offering, he would not decline it. Meaning what? All these time we spent our time together as friends, did he actually think of me as a potential fuck buddy? Not that he’s ugly or anything. But, even his phone still have his girlfriend’s picture as a wallpaper. And he indicating that he and I should hook up and have sex? If we were both single, maybe. But….. his statement kind of change my view about him and myself a little bit. Well, I’m not surprised that he could be attracted to me that way, I mean, if I wasn’t myself, I would definitely want to fuck me too, you know.

And that’s not all. If last week someone told me that me and Neiro are going to have a plan to fuck each other while racking our brain playing chess, I would never believe them. But, now, considering that I possibly have an oddly smart fuck buddy waiting for me in another country. God, I don’t know since when but just by thinking about playing chess makes my heart pounds and my cheeks red. All I want to do is to fuck the shit out of his nerdy ass. And how he kept saying how he want to do it in fitting room, disable lavatory, just to imagine me and him having sex in that kind of places makes myself overly excited. But God has to put us in reduced circumstances that we live too far away from each other, and how it won’t be possible for us to meet any time soon. I want to cry because I just want him lift both my legs on his shoulder and fuck me like a little bitch I am.

I don’t know why these two kinda hinting to wanting to fuck me AT THE SAME DAY. But honestly, without much consideration, I know that I am much more heated for Neiro. He’s so smart and odd it makes him sexy. Even just playing online chess while listening to his voice explaining how chess works makes my pants soaked. I really really wish we can meet as soon as possible. I just want to have a lot of sex with him.