#going feral over some of his lines in masters | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gav-san · 7 months

Text

Cursed | Sukuna x reader

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna / Fem Reader

Length: One-Shot

Summary: The greatest punishment in this life wasn't your brother Gojo Satoru embarrassing you into leaving Sorcery.

It was what happened when he was gone.

Warnings: Blood, Gore, Sexual Violence, Inferred Violence, Inferred Assault

You remember the day Gojo told you that you would never make it as a sorcerer.

The day you graduated from Jujutsu High School your arrogant older brother wrapped a hand over your shoulder and told you that you had less talent than the first years, and he wouldn’t allow you to be anything more than a third-grade sorcerer.

Of course, he did it at the podium, in front of everyone there.

You had ripped off the slim golden necklace he and Geto had bought you, but you could never bear to trash it entirely.

That was also the day you refused to speak to him again. But you soon found he was good as his word, and any attempt to do any sorcery was blocked at every angle. After all, who would openly disagree with the master of the Six Eyes and Infinity?

You were more or less exiled from the entire society of arrogant jujitsu sorcerers, forced to go to the nearby college and turn into a glorified secretary for the high school. He tried to rebuild your relationship, but it was never the same.

It took you years to understand why he would hurt his only sibling that deeply. It wasn’t until he was dead that you understood how much he was willing to sacrifice for your well-being.

You were the number one target of all Satoru Gojo’s enemies, and revenge came swiftly.

The clinking of the chains could almost sound like that piece of jewelry, lost in the rubble of your apartment if you imagined hard enough.

And all you had was time to try and imagine that you were anywhere but here, locked to the throne at the feet of the King of Curses.

You could hardly bear to watch as people were brought in, some more chained than you, dangerous perhaps. You wondered if their collars had been crafted to deaden cursed energy as yours had. Not that Sukuna thought you were any threat, but he disliked ‘swatting at flies’.

When you had first been captured, after everything had gone to hell, you had hoped that there was someone, anyone, who had the power and strength to end Sukuna, but nothing came close to his power.

Even Gojo Satoru had fallen, taking hope with him.

Now Men, Women, and children, all met the same fate if they did not kneel and give reverence to the great Ryomen Sukuna.

And even that was not always enough.

Blood spattered the marble floors of the shrine, and you swear that over time it’s taken on a pink hue. The room fills with lesser curses who clean the blood with their grotesque mouths, and Urame carts away choice bits for Sukuna's later pleasure.

You screwed your mouth shut as people cried to you, mistaking your position as something other than a slave for Sukuna to torture.

As the last of the Gojo line, you weren't above holding you responsible for a century-long grudge. Any pleading from your lips only made his rampage worse.

Any attempt to flee into your head was met with a violent tug on your throat.

There was no turning away, not when your master held the deceptively delicate chain around your neck, yanking whenever he thought you weren’t paying enough attention.

He loved to see you cry in pain, and you hadn’t the ability to stop, especially for those young ones who were cut down.

And it was almost certain that after witnessing another moment of terrible brutality you’d somehow forget your head, turning upon him and glaring like a feral animal, yanking the chain away so you could hurt him, just once.

But you would only be met with the face of the wolf.

His teeth clenched in a wide smile, he’d return a smirk so vile, that he specifically reserved for the moments you spit venom. He loved to see you struggle, but trying to bite back always ended poorly.

Ryomen Sukuna was not a kind master.

And though he certainly thought of you like a pet, he wasn’t below forcing your head under his foot, smushing your entire face in the remains of corpses. If you dared throw up, you still stayed and were unable to leave until you wiped it up with your ragged robes that had gone thin from wear.

But that was better than his other punishment, on days where you felt a terrifying hardness as Sukuna held your face between his legs, using a single finger to paint fresh blood, using you as a macabre canvas as he painted.

Those days he would have Urame fetch a mirror, and both would cackle as they examined his work. Often, it was lewd words and signs, but other times it was as if he was painting his marks on you.

Bastard.

After a long, cruel day, you dared to critique his work, sneering at his lack of finesse.

With a snap of his fingers, he had Urame strap you down, leering over you as he assembled his petty revenge.

A curse user was summoned, bringing along the tools of his trade; a short bamboo pole with a needle attached and a jar of thick onyx ink.

If that hadn’t been enough, Sukuna cut his wrist, pouring black blood to mix into the lot.

He instructed the curse user to tattoo you exactly like him, with no imperfections else his head be separated from his body.

You endured unbearable pain for nearly a week, stripped down under the gaze of Sukuna, a reminder to watch your tongue. And after, when the tattoos were done, he commemorated it with a new kimono and a portrait of you at his feet. A wretched ugly thing, as you now were.

He loved it, and let the painter live.

The recovery took twice as long, as your master hardly let you rest, or even leave his side. And as the days passed, you felt less and less like a human.

Forced to accompany him almost daily, you had an unfortunate insight into the casual cruelty of the Cursed King who knew nothing of kindness.

You eat less, hardly sleep and the whole blood-shed thing was sort of muffled, probably thanks to the sheer amount witnessed. You figure terror is the only thing keeping you alive.

Day in and out you followed the creature, just waiting for the day he tires of you.

And that day doesn’t come.

It’s still a surprise that you’re alive, you muse too often, laying on a cushion at the entrance to his rooms. Though he did take off your left arm the day he took you, he claimed it was an accident, and fixed it.

You’d rather that happen again than to be forced to enter his rooms.

At least your position at his shrine was more or less a pet, or when he was gone, Urame’s.

And despite your treatment, the concubines were in a far worse condition. The way Sukuna treated other women was abhorrent. Some days, bored, would reap the land looking for fresh, beautiful blood, and when he found some, he’d bring them back. Some girls even offered up to him, in hopes he’d show mercy.

Wide-eyed women, much like yourself, you realized as you watched them enter one day. But you felt these were much prettier, much more docile than you. Some even fawned over him, though their manners probably rang as fake as your docility. Were they trying to secure a safe place by him, or just trying not to be killed was hard to say. You didn’t blame either. Humanity was no longer civil.

It didn’t matter. They all get dragged into that black hole of his room, sometimes four at a time, and their screaming often lasts for hours.

Women who entered his rooms never exited alive, thankfully Urame thought your time could be much better spent working than sitting at the door, listening in.

Yeah, it was much preferable to be a tortured slave to Sukuna than to be seen as a woman.

“You’ve been quiet this last week, pet.” Sharp nails dig into your head, turning you to look at the man sitting on the throne above. “Perhaps you no longer find my pastimes so alarming.”

Meaning, his pastime of killing and eating humans.

Something shared by the court of curses below him, warily watching for what next he commands and desires.

Unfortunately, that was you. You despised the looks raked over your chained form, the greedy mouths that drooled, awaiting the day the master turned tired of the remaining Gojo, and hoped to have their turn for revenge.

If they couldn’t have Satoru Gojo, you’d do.

“Apologies… master.” You said, tension forming at the back of your neck as he tugged harshly on your head. Even so, your words remained smooth. “I find it hard to do anything but serve with your foot on my back.”

His dark chuckle was an answer in itself.

“Such a mouth, even when disguising your words so pretty.” Sukuna let go of your hair, amused enough today to let your words pass. You drop your head, but only enough to quell the pain. “It was such a shame for your kin to have died so easily, but it seems my desire for entertainment continues to be fulfilled by you.”

You hated him so much.

You clench your mouth, but the insult escapes before you can stop it.

“Bastard.”

You go stiff, but Sukuna merely pauses.

“Oh?” A single finger of his lifts your chin up again, before moving to your lips. And without warning, he pushes it inside your mouth.

“I thought I may torture you for a while, then be rid of you, but…”

You will yourself not to bite down on his finger, as he probably wanted an excuse to bite you back. But you don’t, and after a moment he pops it out with a small sound before another hand grabs your shoulder.

“Leave.”

For a moment you think he’s speaking to you, but the tension in your throat holds, and you see him looking at everyone else.

“My lord?” You question but his eyes flash down in warning.

All the curses and curse-users who attend minor tasks in the shrine are gone in moments. Urame is the last, shitting the door and ensuring the desired privacy, which means, something horrible is about to happen.

The moment the ornate handle clicks, Sukuna picks you up with a third hand. You can’t help but exhale as he sets you down on his knee. The finger that had been in your mouth returns, and you gag as this time it delves in, choking you.

“Not a very good reflex, but it can be worked on,” Sukuna says with an almost bored drawl, tugging his finger back out, and you wonder if he just sent everyone out because he wanted to do just that.

You cough, hands rising to hold your face, and don’t ask.

Sukuna laughs, clearly happy with annoying you, like a child. You so badly want to lash out but the fear of retaliation is far more effective than any shackle.

He has killed villages for less.

“See, this is why I didn’t kill you when I got rid of the rest of the scum!” He jokes, tilting his head to gaze with all four of his penetrating red eyes. “Such pleasing reactions!”

Friends, you think darkly. Those scum were your friends who were more like family. Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Nobara, Yuuta, Yuuji and so many others.

Tears fill your eyes as a soft voice seems to be at the back of your mind.

Megumi.

Though Sukuna was fully transformed, pain filled you thinking that Megumi might be in that monstrous body, trapped and unable to escape.

His knee shifts up, causing a terrible feeling of butterflies and cockroaches to churn in your stomach from the feel. The move was far too personal, and you tried to shift so he wasn’t pressed so intimately against your rear.

Even trying to fall off would be preferable. But your throat is raised, thanks to the gold chain in Sukuna’s hand that pulls up as he twists.

The benefit of having four arms is he can manhandle you as he pleases.

His thick hand raised your chin and refused to let you turn an inch as you gazed hatefully into his eyes

“What a beautiful sight. You know, from the first moment I saw you, I knew you were special.” Another hand moves to pull back some stray hair behind your ear.

“I hate you.”

Your hands shake, clenched in fists.

“I know.” He says with a smirk. “You know why I keep you around, pet?”

You have nothing to say and don’t even care to know. But that won’t stop him.

He strokes your face, his thumb holding you in a position others might think lovers would use.

“The first time I gazed upon you, I felt a most unique heat in my chest that has persisted till this day. Love, perhaps.” He mocks.

“Disgusting.” You spit out, but he doesn’t pause.

“From the moment we crossed paths your fate was set, but only recently have I understood the extent of what you mean to me.” Sukuna seems to be smug, revealing this, and you think he’s probably just messing with your head again.

The grip on your chin is starting to hurt.

Your chin shakes, and you grab the giant hand holding your face, digging in your fingers. You are certain he is going to kill you now. But you won’t cry or beg for mercy.

No, as a Gojo you would face down death and spit in his face.

So you do, hitting Sukuna right under his lower left eye.

“Go to hell, monster.” You growled, despite feeling the creak of bones in your face.

And for a moment the world is deathly quiet.

Until Sukuna throws back his head, startling you with a loud howl as he releases your face to laugh. In pain and confusion, you are tongue-tied as he tilts his head, the look on his face almost fond.

“I could kill you, but I have a better plan. I think you would make a very interesting wife.”

You would have fallen off his leg had he not quickly placed a palm on the small of your back.

“I despise you.” You reply, seeing as there isn’t anything else to say. But Sukuna doesn’t get mad at you for speaking out. Instead, he grins, which is much worse. “I’ll never be yours.”

But his mouth grows wide, and he tugs you forward, pushing you against his chest. Your lack of elegant words doesn’t bother Sukuna.

“Not as a human. I recently acquired a certain cursed spirit on my travels, and by imbuing you with her powers, your transformation should be complete. Rika would suit you well. You’re already halfway there, thanks to those marks suing my blood.”

You had been eating less, not hardly sleeping and the whole blood-shed thing was sort of muffled…

You gape, twisting to try and escape or even to move enough to allow your brain to function.

What?

He gives you a long look that you don’t know how to interpret. “You've lost enough of that wretched humanity that your body won’t break when you bear my children.”

You straighten, horrified, reeling back, but stopped.

Oh gods, there wasn’t anything more ridiculous than Sukuna talking about reproducing with you?

“No-“ He waves off your rejection, like a wisp of wind. You don’t remember starting to shake so hard, but it seems like you can see yourself from above, trembling a leaf in a storm.

“Of course, pet. You didn’t think I’d keep a stupid thing like you around to look nice? I even practiced on those pathetic humans.”

You dig your fingers into his chest, ripping it open with fury alone.

“I’ll kill you.” You say, “I’ll kill myself-“

Sukuna chuckles as blood pours from his chest, but the wound heals faster than you can dig. Sukuna's hand shoves your head into his blood, and iron fills your mouth.

“Heh, brat. Look at you, a Gojo doomed to be the queen of curses. A fitting end to that cursed line.”

“Someday, the chance will come, and one day, I’ll kill you.” You swear, teeth dripping in red.

“Women like you never leave their brats, so I’ll breed you till you have no escape,” Sukuna says, bending down and giving a soft kiss to your painted lips.

As he pulls away, his tongue licks away the blood. “Of course, if you try, I’ll kill them and breed you again. Isn’t that what husbands do?”

#notromance #jjk sukuna #sukuna x yn #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #one-shot #dark #dovedove?#probably qualified for all Sukuna content #Hurrah second season!#jjk #jjk x reader #Gojo!Reader

406 notes · View notes

ador3sturniolo · 8 months

Note

chris fic based off the song les by childish gambino🙏🏼

“I kinda hope they catch us”

An - Hey my lovely’s! Sorry I haven’t posted in like a week😨 but I’m back! I’ve just been busy with school and other things so I found some time in my schedule to write for you guys! Im just going to go off a couple lines from the song because I already have a plan for it! anyways, hope you guys enjoy!

Pairing - Chris Sturniolo X FemReader

Summary - You and Chris have a private relationship

Warnings - Kissing, (Not proofread, LEAVE ME BE ABOUT THAT 😭)

Requested - Yep!

Master List

Chris and I have been dating for almost 8 months now and we’ve been able to keep it a secret for a long time. It’s not that people haven’t noticed tho. There would be ship edits of us all the time so I don’t think it would be that bad if we went public, but there’s always a couple of people that can’t handle it and have to hate.

“Are you almost ready?” I heard Chris shout from the living room. I’m almost done getting ready for the party we’re about to go too.

“Yeah! Just give me 10 minutes at most!” I should back, starting to hurry up with my hair and makeup so I can get on my outfit. I start to put on my outfit. I put on a small, strapless, and slim black dress. Simple but cute. Chris loves this dress and goes feral whenever he sees me in it. I top it off with a simple necklace and heels. The heels would be easy to walk and dance in. I spray my favorite night out perfume and grab my wallet off the dresser and walk out to Chris. All three of them were in the living room, waiting on me.

“Okay I’m ready.” I say, grabbing the boys attention. I could tell Chris’s jaw was on the floor by his expression. They all get up off the couch and come towards me.

“Wow, I am literally shook. You look so hot.” Nick says as he grabs my hand and twirls me around. I smile at his compliment.

“Thank youuu!” I say with excitement.

“You pulled it off once again” Matt spoke up.

“Oh why thank you.” I say taking a bow and then laughing. Chris doesn’t say anything, just smirks. We didn’t think anything of it and we all started to walk out when Chris grabbed me by my arm and pulled me in close. Matt and Nick didn’t even notice and kept walking.

“What are you doing my love?” I ask tilting my head.

“You know what your doing right? With that dress your wearing right now.” He says eyeing me up and down.

“Well I Hope so.” I say smirking.

“Because god, you look so god damn good right now.” He says biting his lip just barely. I don’t say anything just smirk as I walk out, taking him with me. Me and Chris sit next to each other and I lay my head on his shoulder, holding hands until we get there. We get out of the car and I brush my hair with my fingers before we go in. The smell of alcohol fills my nostrils almost instantly as I step into the building, the music, blasting all through the the building. The room pitch black, but with constant flashing lights, it’s was like the whole room was lit. Nick and Matt walk off together so it’s just me and Chris. To prevent people catching us together, we decide to separate ourselves and go to different parts of the room. I could see that girls kept going up to Chris and talking to him. I decided to brush off and go get a drink. I get a drink and sit down at a table, still making sure I had a view of him. A guys sits down next to me, I hadn’t even noticed him until he started talking to me.

“Well hey there doll.” The man asked sipping on his drink.

I smile awkwardly and look back at the crowd.

“Are you here all by yourself? Need someone to keep you company doll?” The man asked smirking.

“I’m here with someone so no thanks.” I say getting down from my seat and walking into the bathroom. I hood over the sink, gripping on the sides of the sink, looking down, trying to forget what just happened. I start to wash my hands as I hear a knock on the door.

“One second.” I try to shout but with the music I don’t think they would have heard me. I kept hearing more knocks constantly so I went up to the door angrily. I was about to start going off on who was at the door, but when I realized who it was, my gaze softened. It was Chris.

“Hi ba-“ I get cut off by his lips on mine, stoping me from my sentence. I pull back giggling.

“Chris what are you doing” I say with a slight giggle. I feel his arms wrap around my waist as I look up at him. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Was that man doing anything bad to you? When you were sitting down.”

“No, I left before he got to do anything else.” I smile at him. He lets out a relief sigh and smiles back as he leans back in. I make my way, and sit on top of the counter, pulling him in between my legs, not breaking the kiss.

“Wait should we close the door?” I say catching my breath. He turn to look at the wide open door. He shakes his head no, and eagerly goes back to kissing me.

“I hope nobody catches us.” I say within the kiss.

“But I kinda hope they catch us” He smirks. I pull back laughing.

“Ooh I like that, trying to be risky.” I say going back in for a kiss. A little bit later I hear a know on the door, someone trying to get our attention, Chris turns around and a look to the side. It was Nick.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” Nick says walking in.

“Cant you see we’re busy, can’t you go somewhere else?” Chris says annoyed.

“No, this is the only bathroom that’s kinda available, now can you two get out.” Nick says playfully shoving Chris shoulder.

“Fine.” Chris says helping me off the counter, and going out of the bathroom. I hear my name being shouted from a table not too far. It’s was my friend, who was a boy. Chris dosnt like him very much but I know why. He is a good looking man and lots of girls like him. I go up to him, hugging, I see chris walk off with an annoyed expression, but I brush it off because I only see him as a friend. Chris goes back to where he was before, with girls surrounding him.

It was great to catch up with him considering I haven’t talked to him in a while. I walk over to Chris, nodding to the door saying that I wanted to leave. I leave a couple minutes before he does. Nick and Matt told me that they would get an Uber home, so I decided to drive. I wait in my seat for Chris to come out. I go on my phone while I wait for him. I jumped as I heard the door open and someone gets in.

“Jeez Chris you scared me.” I said with deep breaths.

“Sorry my love.” He says as he pulls me in for a kiss. I pull back, remembering there’s people around us.

“Cant do it here.” I say putting on my seatbelt. He scoffs as he crossed him arms, sinks in his seat and pouts.

“You can be a baby sometimes.” I roll my eyes as he starts making baby noises.

“Okay stop it.” I say laughing, starting the drive.

“Make me.” He says, slightly sitting up in his seat. I don’t make a noise, just focusing on the road. I wait till we get to a red light before I take tissues and form them into a ball and shove it in his mouth. He spits it out instantly and starts scratching his tongue in disgust.

“You are disgusting” He exclaims as I laugh.

“I love youu.” I say trying to make it up to him, still giggling a little.

“Love you too.” He says annoyed. I lean over and give him a kiss on the cheek. That cheered him up.

—————————————————————

An - Hey my lovely’s! Sorry if that was cringe or anything! I hope you guys don’t take this the wrong way and think I’m trying to write inappropriate story of Chris 😭 Anyways, I still have more things to write but leave request!!

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo

240 notes · View notes

abeautylives · 1 year

Text

A Friend in Need

a/n: Just another little thought that turned into a whole thing! I wrote this pre-album name drop and pre-song release and I forgot that I needed to publish it. Credit to @samkiszkasfacialhair for certain artistic choices made lmfao, love you bff. Anyways, stream Greta Van Fleet's latest single, Meeting the Master 🫡

pairing: Joshxfemale!reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: He just needs some relief. Who are you to deny him?

warnings: 18+ minors stay far away, language, the illusion of non-consent (it's 100% consensual), friends with benefits, light manhandling, unprotected penetrative sex, rough sex, degradation, oral (m. receiving)

The fine hairs on your arms raise, the air almost crackling with a subtle electricity that your body senses before you’ve even heard him. It’s always like this, you can feel when he’s entered a room before you turn to see him.

Now that you know he’s there, you can hear his bare feet padding softly toward you and you wonder where he’d snuck in from. The front door hasn’t opened since you’ve been in the sitting room but you suppose you could have just missed each other in passing, he could have arrived and slunk up the stairs in silence as you’d stood in the kitchen filling the watering can you’re now wielding. Just as you stretch to hydrate the pothos bathing in the light streaming in through the window, a pair of warm hands slide over the skin peeking out from below the hem of your t-shirt.

It’s suddenly clear why he hadn’t announced his arrival, why his jubilant voice had not rung through the foyer, calling for you.

Something is wrong.

You know Joshua well, and you have for several years. Fast friends since the day you’d met, he’d recently asked you to look after his house when he was away, to tend his plants and the feral cat that lurks around his backyard. Although he claims he has no attachment to it, he insists on making sure it’s fed.

And so, your duties had been outlined clearly: drop by and fill the cat’s dish on the back porch, grab any mail from the box and leave it on the kitchen counter, water the plants if they need it. He’d insisted on compensating you for your efforts, which you’d declined in hopes of not ending up on his payroll.

Thank god you’d rejected his offer. Being in his employ would make what you think is about to happen rather… improper.

Without turning to face him, you keep your tone light as you settle on your heels and ask if he’s okay. He doesn’t respond with words, just drops his head forward and rests his forehead against the threadbare cotton covering your shoulder. You feel his head move from side to side as he shakes it, no.

“What do you need, Josh, how can I help?” His continued silence makes you nervous, his fingers pressed into the thin skin at your hip bones bring you closer. You know the answer, already accepted the truth of it. The watering can clatters over the hardwood as he knocks it away, you're pulled from the window and your face is pressed into the adjoining wall before you can concern yourself with the water splashed across your ankles.

With his fingers laced into the hair at the base of your neck he keeps you there, cheek pushed into the cool surface as his other hand works to push the elastic waistband of your leggings down past your hips. You open your mouth to speak, to stop him or tell him to keep going, you’re not sure but he snaps your head back and the only sound that escapes you is a pained inhale of breath. Straining to see his face over your shoulder, you find reddened cheeks and knit eyebrows, full lips set into a tight line. The flush is creeping down his neck and across his chest, bare and heaving.

“Josh…”

“Shut up. I don’t wanna talk about it.” He’s mad, or sad, or both and he’s got your leggings hugging your thighs just above your knees, fingers tucked under the plain cotton at your hip, already sliding it down. “I need to fuck something, how fortuitous to find you here even though you knew I was getting back today. Convenient.”

Oh, he’s pissed.

Your panties fall and meet the bunched up fabric at your knees but the hand that’s pushed them there doesn’t leave you, its fingertips skim up the back of your thigh and sink into the soft flesh of your asscheek. Finally glancing up to meet your eyes, his are pleading with you but his mouth expresses his need differently.

“Spread your legs.”

You nod against his hold and try to obey his command, but the elastic wrapped around you only allows your feet to move but so far from each other.

“That’s as far as-“

He throws off your balance and stops your words in their tracks, his own foot coming between yours to kick them farther apart. You can hear minuscule threads snapping, the material stretching until it breaks and satisfied with that, he leans in and runs the tip of his nose up the side of your neck. He takes his time, breathes in the scent of you and loosens his grip on your hair. This is going to be the solitary moment of tenderness, you can feel that in his touch and you brace yourself for his next words.

“I need you.” It hits your skin and travels down your spine. As your head nods your consent, your body offers it as well, your back arching just slightly and ass pushing against his hips. “I’m not gonna be nice. I need to fuck you… is that okay?”

His voice is quiet, deep and it gives off the impression that whatever tempest had been brewing inside him had stilled, but you know this is simply the calm before the storm. You face it headfirst.

“Yeah, Josh. It’s okay… take what you need. I'm here.”

So lightly that you barely feel it, he ghosts his lips over the skin just below your earlobe before he nods his head.

A tense hand slides down the back of your neck and holds on tight. “Don’t move unless I tell you to.” The other is between your legs before you can respond, and pleased with what he discovers there, he growls his gratification into your ear. “Your pussy is practically dripping for me, begging me to use her.”

His fingers are slipping through your obvious arousal with no intention to pleasure you, only to take from you. You hum at the feeling anyway, just to lose it when he pulls away to undo the fastenings of his pants. Your body relaxes without the pressure of his hold around your neck as his pants sink down around his ankles, he’s definitely not pleased when he notices and you’re pushed against the surface again once his cock is freed.

“I said don’t move.” There’s a barely contained anger rolling off of him like a haze, a fog clouding his normally sunny demeanor. He shoves his hand between your thighs again, fingers indelicately sliding through to collect some of the slick moisture leaking from you. A timid whine sounds from deep in your throat, it’s a little embarrassing that he’s affected you like this, that your body is so willing to accept a punishment for something that has nothing to do with you. Your cunt mourns the loss when his touch leaves you again, but his knuckles are brushing against the swell of your ass as he rubs your arousal over himself.

Unable to see him fully, all you can do is sense his next moves but your muscles jump when he runs the tip of his dick down the cleft of your ass before he slips it where his fingers had been. His skin is like velvet and fire, and you only get to appreciate it for a moment before he’s pushed inside you to the hilt.

“Fuck fuckfuckfuck Josh-“

In an instant he’s everywhere, fingertips digging into you and the other hand smoothing up the front of your body, under your shirt until those fingers are sunk into the pillowy softness of your naked breast. His breaths are heavy against your ear, the heat from his chest blanketing you as his hips work themselves into your ass.

He’s bruising you from the inside out, you can feel it with every thrust and you let him, taking his retribution silently until a deep stroke buckles your knees and rips a cry past your lips.

The chuckle that huffs out and over your cheek is sinister and hot. “Did that hurt, angel?” Rather than soften his blows, he puts his full weight into them. The mewling whimpers escaping you sound pitiful, even to you, even as you’re clenching down around him. “You liked it, didn’t you?”

You’re left empty when you offer no response, spun to face him and pushed back against the wall by a palm splayed across the middle of your chest.

“I asked you a question.”

He looks sinful like this, curls already sticking to his forehead, perfectly straight teeth bared in what you’d almost consider a snarl. He expects an answer but you let your eyes travel over the sharp angles and soft curves of him, let your gaze drop until it lands below his navel. You’ve never seen him in this state of undress, fully nude aside from the khakis and briefs resting around his ankles. The last time you’d let him find relief between your legs, neither of you had removed an article of clothing. It had been hurried and hushed, and afterward you’d smoothed out your skirt and left the dressing room.

You’d told yourself that last time was the last time. But he needs you.

A sharp sting brings you back to focus, his hand is still against your cheek when your eyes snap to his.

“What the f-“

“I asked you a question. Did I hurt you?”

He had, but it’s already a distant memory that recalls as pleasure rather than pain. “Yes…”

“Did you like it?”

“Yes…”

He sounds disgusted by your admission. “You did, I felt you squeezing me, whining for it like a whore.”

Oh god. Heat spreads across your cheeks and the bridge of your nose, burning the spot where he slapped you.

“Take your fucking clothes off, I’m not done with you.” He kicks his own away and turns his back to you, casually moving toward the couch and relaxing into it, an arm outstretched over the back. You watch each other as you free your feet and pull your shirt over your head, as he takes his cock into his fist and strokes it slowly. He looks almost regal as he wields his command over you with his eyes alone.

“Interesting that you were waiting here for me, tits out. Indecent, really. Come here.” It’s not lost in the moment that he’s never seen you this way either, his eyes are zeroed in on your chest as you move across the room. “I want your mouth, you gonna let me have it?” He’s surprised when you sink to your knees but he wipes it from his expression immediately and tangles his fingers into your hair. “You really are my whore, aren’t you?”

You bat your eyelashes as you replace his hand with your own around his cock, swollen and still slick from you. Your lips meet the tip, a chaste kiss pressed into his flushed skin. “Whatever you need, Josh.” He groans as your tongue darts out to wet your lips, sighs in relief as he slips past them and growls when you take him to the back of your throat. His grip against your scalp tightens and you let a moan ripple around him, ready to pull out all the stops and give him your best but before you make your first move, he jerks you off of him.

A string of saliva keeps you connected before it breaks and dribbles down your chin.

“I’m not in the mood for some pretty princess blowjob, don’t bother.” With wide eyes, you nod in understanding and open your mouth, tongue laid out for him. He forces you down around him and holds you there, nose pressed into the soft hair at the base until your lungs are burning. When he pulls you back slowly, you drag your tongue along the silken length and release him with a pop, suck in a ragged breath before you take him in again. Wrenching you over his lap with the fist locked in your hair, his hips are thrusting up from the couch, you bring your hands to rest on his thighs and feel them bunch under your touch.

With your lips wrapped around his cock, cheeks hollowed and tears pricking the corners of your eyes, it strikes you that the way your fingertips are pressed into the muscle of his legs feels like the most intimate way you’ve ever touched him. You also realize that between your own legs you’re throbbing with neglect.

Lost in the way he’s fucking your mouth, grunting through clenched teeth and eyes clamped shut, he doesn’t notice when you slide a hand off of his and slip it between your own thighs. Two fingers tucked inside, you pump them at the same rhythm that he’s working himself over with inside your mouth before swirling them over your clit. A quiet but high pitched whine, interrupted in your throat by his thrusts, draws attention to what you’ve done.

“Absolutely not.” You’re pulled up and away from his lap until you're face to face, noses touching and heaving breaths mixing. He looks incensed but you can’t help but wonder what it’s like to kiss his lips. “If you cum, and I truly don’t care if you don’t, it’s going to be with my cock inside that greedy pussy of yours.”

Just as quickly as he’d had you against the wall, he’s got you bent over with your face pushed into the back of the couch. You’re braced for him to slam into you, but he takes a moment to commit his view to memory. Your back is arched and legs spread across the cushions, knees sunk into the fabric, he can see everything. Gripped tight in his fist, he rubs himself through you, takes in the way you open for him, soft pink skin spread around him.

“Pretty…” He says it so quietly, when you think back to this you’ll be sure you imagined it.

He pushes into you slowly, just for the visual. As soon as he’s bottomed out he rears back and slams his hips against you, over and over, hands wrapped around the small of your waist. His voice, gravelly and laced around the edges with hunger, rises over the sound of your bodies colliding.

“I want it, need to feel it. Touch yourself. Fuck-“

More eager to give him what he needs than to take it for yourself, you do as he’s commanded. Your fingers slide over your clit sloppily, your entire body jerking forward with each of his thrusts as he fucks into you at a brutal pace. You feel a hand slide up your spine and find its home back in your hair, he yanks your head back.

“You’d do anything I wanted. You’d let me fuck your ass right now, wouldn’t you?” There’s venom in his tone again and it shoots straight to your core.

“Yes, anything, anything!”

He just needed to hear it. “Filthy, fucking filthy.”

Your orgasm takes hold, a hot rush of shame and pleasure gripping you and pulling you under. His name tumbles forth, absorbed into the cushions and through the frenetic buzz in your brain you hear him call out to you.

With an animalistic groan, he releases it all. Whatever had happened that brought him home frustrated and needing, he lets it go as he spills inside you. He doesn’t stop, fucking it all into you until he’s empty, completely spent.

When he collapses, he pulls you with him and into his chest as he falls to his side onto the couch. You can feel the change in him, the heaviness he was carrying when he’d entered the room is gone, and any resistance to his fondness for you fails as his lips come to rest on your shoulder. When you’ve both caught your breath, he slips from your body and shoots you a shy grin as he helps you sit up.

You try not to watch as he stands to stretch and walks across the room to retrieve your discarded clothes and his pants, but his ass is bubbly and cute and you figure you deserve to enjoy the view. When he bends to scoop up his pants he catches your gaze over his shoulder.

“Like what you see?”

You do, and that’s probably fine. “Ehh, it’s alright. Jake’s ass is better.”

Your t-shirt flies through the air and lands across your face, you’re laughing as you pull it away and start tugging it over your head.

“Jake's ass is bigger. Not better.” He’s stepped into his khakis and his affectionate giggles trail off as he tucks himself into them and slides the zipper up. Eyebrows knit together again, he appears to be in serious contemplation as he picks up your balled up leggings and underwear. You’re still naked from the waist down as he comes to sit at your side.

“Hey.. you know I didn’t mean that, right?” His eyes are trained on your face, swimming with worry as he carefully ensures that they don’t wander lower.

“Give me those. Didn’t mean what?” He hands over your clothes and you pluck your panties free, bending to slip them up your legs and lifting your hips to pull them higher, unconcerned when his eyes dart to the junction of your thighs before it’s hidden from view.

“When I called you… ya know.” His head drops forward and he huffs a sigh of disbelief.

“A whore?” He meets your eyes and cringes before running a hand over his face then dropping it to place it softly over your own, resting in your lap.

“I don’t think you’re- I mean, I would never think that of you. I’m lucky to have you.”

“Josh.” You tug your hand free of his to cup his sweet face in your palms, smoothing your thumbs over the corners of his mouth until a lopsided smile pulls his dimple to the surface. “I know that. Do you wanna… talk about whatever happened today?”

“No. No, I feel better. You’re too good to me, I don’t pay you enough.” The rest of his perfect smile stretches across his lips, the first real one you’ve seen since he snuck into the house.

“You don’t pay me at all, and it’s going to stay that way.” You pat his cheek as you stand from the couch and he doesn’t stop himself from watching your bare skin disappear as you step into your leggings and pull them up. “You do owe me a new pair of these, though. They’re all stretched out.”

His grin is smug, self-satisfied. “Consider it done. Do you wanna stay and hang out? We can order food, I’m fucking starving.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m gonna go… clean up.” His cum is leaking from you slowly, you try not to mention it.

“Oh, oh my god yeah of course.” A pink tint of embarrassment creeps over his face, making you chuckle. He calls out as you leave the room, “Hey, what do you want, I’ll order it!”

“Whatever you want, Joshua! Whatever you want.”

Taglist:

@lightmylove-gvf @spicedandicedtea @weneedsomehealing123 @milkgemini @why-ami-on-here @gretavanbitches @twistedmelodies @wildflowerxx-x @dannythedog @blissfulbellss @averagemisfit03 @dharmasdivine @thetroublegetssoloud71 @lucimoo @toxbexannouncedx @dig0930 @maddie-van-fleet @friska101-cg @welllauragvf @gretasimp @objectsinspvce @writingcold @gretavangroupie @sweetybre @gretasgoose @gvfjess

Hi beauties, I was not keeping track of Taglist requests that were specific to Imperfect Moments so if you didn’t want to be included here I’M SO SORRY. Please just let me know and I’ll do better in the future 😘

#greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fic #greta van fleet smut #gvf smut #josh kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka gvf #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka smut #gvf fan fiction

530 notes · View notes

ddarker-dreams · 1 year

Note

Based on how you wrote some genshin yanderes i was really surprised to see Scaramouche being somewhat manageable! (Yandere standards, not normal ones) I expected him to be the opposite! He turned out to be the one who ‘looks like will be difficult, but is manageable’ in the end! (Which is really well written!)

Your Albedo…on the other hand… terrifying. Would never want him as a yandere, (this is a compliment to you, he’s really well written!) thank you for the painkiller tho i guess?? He’s definitely someone who looks manageable but is terrifying

scara's darling giving advice on how to manage him to a group of note taking fatui trainees: basically, want you need to do is give him three head pats a day and one kiss on the cheek minimum. i consider this the formula to success.

how i've characterized yan scara has changed a lot overtime, he went from being the most bastard of bastards to this clingy feral creature who yearns for your attention 24/7 and has an attitude about it. albedo though... PHEW... what you said made me think who the least manageable yanderes would be. here are my two cents.

alhaitham has this way of getting under your skin without ever really trying. he never raises his voice, the intonation of his words are always steady, and he just gives this overall impression that he knows better than you. he never comes right out and says it, but he doesn’t need to. he doesn’t belittle your intelligence so much as he makes it feel inferior to his. there are no masterful plans or complex webs weaved by alhaitham to ensnare you, his methods are always simple, which serves to infuriate you further. if questioned on this, he’ll say he doesn’t see the point in putting in more effort than necessary if he can keep you where he wants using some well-placed coercion and threats. like... be more creative about it at least? damn. to make matters worse, him saying this isn’t even intended to rile you up. he just kinda responds to your question and then asks what you want for dinner. you can’t stand him.

albedo knows you uncannily well, to a degree you did not expect. albedo is a well-known enigma in mondstadt, so, chances are you’ve heard of him in passing before getting scooped up. after the initial shock wears off and your scheming begins, you’ll have this preconceived notion in your head that albedo is this out-of-touch, emotionally stunted alchemist who prefers seclusion over interacting with the populace. you figure you can use this to your advantage. imagine your surprise (and disappointment) when you realize that oh, he’s very emotionally intelligent for a guy who shuts himself in his laboratory for days on end. you’ll discover this the hard way after a few attempts at manipulation. he kinda plays along, your confidence builds, then he unceremoniously pulls the rug from beneath you at the end. gives you an A for effort though. the man has multiple files about you, including your behavioral patterns, organized in alphabetical order. good luck trying to pull one over on him.

cyno cognitive dissonance is genuinely impressive and could be subject to extensive study. he’s running through mental gymnastics to explain to you (and himself) how what he is doing is not at odds with his belief system. no, this is an exception, because... because it is! sometimes extreme measures need to be taken to achieve desirable results. cyno explains that he’s just keeping an eye on you because of how dangerous it is out there. why would he risk letting you be the victim of a crime when he can instead ensure no crime will ever take place? he seems oddly content with himself after voicing this line of reasoning, as if he’s given it extensive thought. and he has. he has to convince himself that what he’s doing isn’t wrong before he can go about convincing you. no argument on your behalf will ever chip away at his ironclad defenses, he’s spent months if not longer mentally justifying everything he was planning to do.

diluc has this odd savior complex that nobody asked for and imposes it on you. requests that you remove the rude term ‘kidnapper’ from your lexicon when speaking about him. really though, you think the infantilization is the worst part about it. it’ll be time to eat a steak and the man gives you a spoon. who does that? your living quarters have essentially been childproofed, he’s taken precautions in ways you weren’t creative enough to dream up beforehand. want to take a walk? a servant must accompany you. want to take a bath? a servant must be present ‘just in case’ you’re in danger of drowning (you really didn’t know what to say when hearing this one). it’s so suffocating and the frustration of being constantly belittled builds. then he has the audacity to wonder why you glare at him the second he enters your peripherals. for shame.

#alhaitham x reader #yandere alhaitham x reader #albedo x reader #yandere albedo x reader #cyno x reader #yandere cyno x reader #diluc x reader #yandere diluc x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #my stuff #answered #Anonymous

694 notes · View notes

acourtofthought · 3 months

Note

Hello! Not sure if you talked about this already but, do you think Lucien could've done more to help Feyre? Sometimes I see Lucien/Elucien fans say this, but they never outline what specifically he could've done. He had to balance dealing with Feyre's issues, Tamlin's, making sure Spring was stabilized, and his own traumas too. Rhys and Feyre said he could've done more but....what could he have done that didn't set off a mentally unstable High Lord? He was getting abused himself trying to help.

I think it's normal for readers to primarily focus on the heroines story and her pov when reading a book and as a result, it makes it too easy to drown out the things that do not relate to Feyre and her suffering.

When you really break it all down to look at the big picture though, by the time ACOMAF began, Feyre had been in Lucien's life for a few months. MONTHS.

In comparison, Lucien had been Tamlin's "right hand" for centuries. Helping out the people of Spring for centuries. Had been dealing with Amarantha's curse for over 49 years.

Feyre came into Lucien's life after murdering his friend. It didn't take long before Lucien moved past that and he was willing to risk his own life for her on a few occasions. First when he glamored her from Rhys, second when he refused to give up Feyre's name, and third when he helped her in her first trial which resulted in him being whipped, prevented from healing, then being used as Amarantha's toy to torment in Feyre's second trial.

But when they returned to Spring, it wasn't just about Lucien sacrificing himself for Feyre anymore, he had more to think about than just himself and just Feyre.

"If we're going to stand a chance of rebuilding. What he says goes. I am the first one the others look to - I set the example. Don't ask me to risk the stability of this court by pushing back. Not right now"

"No. Amarantha had ... camps for them. The nobles and favored faeries were allowed to dwell UTM. But if the people of a court weren't working to bring in goods and food, they were locked in camps in a network of tunnels beneath the Mountain. Thousands of them, crammed into chambers and tunnels with no light, no air. For fifty years.- " "Some of them went mad, started preying on the others when Amarantha forgot to order her guards to feed them. Soe formed bands that prowled the camps and did - " "They did horrible things. Right now, they're trying to remember what it is to be normal - how to live"

Truly, were Feyre's needs more important than the needs of an entire court? The needs of a people who experienced 50 years of torture compared to her 3 months?

What she did for them was amazing but it doesn't take away their trauma either.

And while Lucien was not only balancing what the entire Spring Court needed and also trying to help Feyre with what she needed, he faced push back from a HIGH LORD everytime he did so:

"She meant no harm, Tam."

"I know she meant no harm," he snapped.

Lucien held his gaze. "Worse things have happened, worse things can happen. Just relax."

Tamlin's emerald eyes were feral as he snarled at Lucien, "Did I ask for your opinion?"

To this, Feyre thinks "those words, the look he gave Lucien and the way Lucien lowered his head - my temper was a burning river in my veins. Look up, I silently beseeched him. Push back. He's wrong, and we're right. Do not back down."

But Feyre says nothing. She just sits there, not offering support to Lucien and expecting him to do something. When it's obvious he's clearly on the line of risking Tamlin's abuse.

Feyre is beseeching Lucien to further open himself up to possible abuse.

Then again later: Lucien had gone on, his tone pleading, Tamlin. Tam. Just let her train, let her master this - if the other High Lords do come for her, let her stand a chance...

I heard the first word out of his mouth, barely more than a growl. No. We give them no reason to suspect she might have any abilities, which training will surely do. Don't give me that look Lucien. Then a vicious snarl, and a shudder of magic rocked the house. Tamlin's voice had been low, deadly. "Do not push me on this."

Feyre then thinks, I didn't want to know what was happening in that room, what he'd done to Lucien, what Lucien had even looked like to cause that pulse of power.

So again, Feyre ignores Luciens' abuse from Tamlin. Feyre with the power of all 7 High Lords and Lucien having no clue he's the Heir to Day and no clue that he might become a High Lord himself as he's not come into his powers, yet their argument is why didn't Lucien do more for Feyre?

Since when is a victim of domestic violence responsible for standing up to their abuser because someone else is also being abused (unless you have a parent / child siutation)?

And yes, Lucien did want to take Feyre back to Spring after Rhys took her but here's where it gets tricky.

A victim hears how their abuser is sorry, they've learned their lesson, they'll be better, and sometimes the victim falls for it.

So Lucien has this centuries old friend who was his friend for many years and who had once saved his life and he only witnessed his sprial after everything that happened with Amarantha. Why wouldn't Lucien believe that Tamlin was capable of change?

Compared to Rhys who perpetuated lies for centuries that he was evil and did play mind games and did torture and Feyre fed into that when Lucien found her because she wanted Velaris to remain protected.

So out of those two scenarios, a friend who seems genuinely remorseful for his recent behaviors versus a High Lord who continues letting everything think he's evil and has the power to brainwash others, and Lucien was wrong for thinking she would be safer in Spring?

It's not like he could steal her away to another Court, what other court would harbor them if they believed it was a slight against another High Lord? Aren't we specifically told that is a cause for war?

Some readers love to simplify things so they can place blame on a character they don't like but they're forgetting SJM writes complexity in her characters relationships, how morally gray even her favorites can be which leaves other characters between a rock and a hard place.

So with that all said, I don't think Lucien could have done more for Feyre because he was being hit from every side. "What is best for the people of Spring? They too have suffered" "Feyre is being brainwashed by Rhys." "Every time I try to stand up for what I believe I end up abused" "I don't like how he's acting but Tamlin was my friend long before this and I have faith he can go back to who he once was."

#lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra

56 notes · View notes

terramythos · 1 year

Text

I decided to play a game of Rimworld on the mechinator start, I wanted to try the robot minion mechanic out so whatever, sure. You start with one character and 2 robots in this scenario. I spawn into a temperate forest, start building a shelter, all the standard stuff.

First pop up/event of the game comes up. The ONLY character in the colony immediately gets Malaria. And has 0 medical skill. I have her use medicine to treat it anyway and it looks like she will live, the immunity is progressing faster than the disease. Cool.

A few minutes pass and I get the second event of the game. Now she ALSO has the fucking Plague. Keep in mind I'm still on the first day of the game. This is some insanely bad luck, diseases almost never spawn right away. This is not good. I tend the Plague, too, but it's progressing much faster than the Malaria.

Long story short, after a point she collapses. Because she's incapacitated, she can't use medicine. and since she is the only pawn in this colony, and neither of her robots can rescue her, she lays there and dies of the Plague. Or maybe the Malaria. I get a game over notice, but opt to keep the map running.

Events spawn in, some people crash in a shuttle, and with no one to rescue them, bleed out and die. A pack of manhunting guinea pigs spawn in, scream for a few days, then leave. With their master dead the robots go feral and join a mechanical hivemind. I wait for a while watching random events play out. FINALLY, a new pawn wanders onto the map, and I can play as him.

Fuck it, I'll keep the game going.

Meet Thamas. His backstory is he's some dude's spare clone that escaped by joining the military, which he then deserted. He's not terribly smart, or good at anything but planting stuff and punching stuff, but he's got the spirit. He hauls out the rotting corpse of my starter character, whose name I no longer remember, and takes over the ruins of her base.

Thamas is horrible at construction, but construct he must. He fails often. When he doesn't fail, he builds awful quality furniture. Thamas also sucks at cooking, but cook he must, or he will starve. By some miracle he only gets food poisoning one time.

Two and a half seasons pass and winter is approaching. I have a stable supply of potatoes but Thamas, who is bad at construction, can't build any temperature control items. So there's the distinct possibility of frostbite if I can't get enough firewood, and I can't refrigerate the potatoes so they might rot.

Sometimes we get attacked but Thamas punches everyone to death and hasn't been downed yet (an instant wipe, in this situation). A feral cat bites off his pinky finger. He manages to capture one raider and to try and recruit him, because at this point I'm desperate for someone to do even just basic stuff so Thamas can catch a break.

It's going OK, but it will take a while to recruit this guy and I'm one bad raid or manhunter pack away from a wipe. That's when I get it. THE event.

A notification pops up. Someone's shuttle crashes LITERALLY right next to Thamas' shoddy house. Cool! Her name is Midori, and she will immediately join the colony if I rescue her. Great! But she has paralytic abrasia for 30 days so can't move. Huh. Well. I'm probably gonna die soon anyway I might as well try and keep her alive.

Then I read it. The final line.

"Midori has a relationship with a colonist. She is Thamas' ex-wife."

#like can you fucking IMAGINE #rimworld #my posts

364 notes · View notes

jessilynallendilla · 3 months

Text

So I just read Danny Phantom: A Glitch in Time and...it was ok

Had this come out when I was a kid and just watched Ultimate Enemy I would have gone absolutely feral over it

this show came out in 2004 so not quite sure how to feel about the updated technology IMO it would have been cool to have a time capsule of the show than the common floating timeline you see in comics

unlike with DC graphic novels you can tell the person that wrote this is actually a fan of the show and not a rando corporate pick the plot is plausible and the characters stay in character

A loyal tribute that brings in new lore and character growth

it also retcons the hated movie Phantom Planet

And it leaves enough to be curious for the sequel

People either seem to love it saying it's a good continuation the more serious take they wanted or hate it saying they're tired of villains being complex and redeemable and not pure evil anymore and the plot seems too much like tumblr fanfiction

I made notes as a read it so spoilers under the cut

Dash Kwan Paulina and Star are ghost hunters

Tucker has instagram/twitter “Spectregram” fans

The Fentons supply the town’s ghost hunting tech unasked

Tucker’s wiki “click-a-pedia" has him listed as married to Ember

Danny and Jazz just accept their father is such a bungler he can’t even kill a guy by abandoning him in space

Dan was strong enough to dent the only thing that can contain him and just it being knocked off a shelf was enough for him to break out (why Clockwork the Master of Time never foresaw this happening moved it from a table to a more secure location ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

So uh... Dan just absorbed “ate” Clockwork

Ecto energy can reach atomic bomb levels so dimension ending threat there

Since the Disasteroid his powers have been fading their theories match their personalities Tucker-science Sam-government Jazz-trauma

“Do you have any childhood trauma you wanna talk about?” (like Jazz as if you weren’t there)

Vlad found a primordial source of ecto energy and just kept that information to himself for a rainy day

Jazz has a magical girl transformation for her ghost fighting suit

Vlad is just “ignore those clones” (there in clothes so did Vlad just buy multiple copies of Danny’s favorite outfit how did he know his size)

Vlad is such an old man who doesn’t know how to use modern computers

“not a place of honor” ah the nuclear waste warning (we don’t really get much more exploration of this or the seven ancients)

Sam is a horse girl

Valerie still holding that grudge huh

In Pariah’s Keep Danny is suffers from bad memories and holds Sam’s hand to comfort himself

The Keep is Fright Knight’s domain

Danny just forgets humans are the ghosts in the Ghost Zone (in line with how often he forgets what powers he has)

Fright Knight calls Pariah his master

Vlad is such a loser he keeps getting his shit kicked

Maddie “That’s not my Danny.”

The Ghost Zone and human world were split in half an unnatural divide

Danny is still a C student (io don't think he's going to be an astronaut)

Ghosts are manifestations of human emotions not separate entities (take that Fartman)

Eventually they start to lose their human identity it’s why some are less human

Vlad has his own “Where’s the rest of it?” meme

They figured out all ghosts run on some emotional drive or purpose

Danny realizes his purpose is protection but now there’s no longer the monster of the week threat or his parents he never asked himself what he wanted

Now instead of constant fighting he’ll help the ghost achieve their desires they just want to keep doing in death what they did in life and heal the rift

Fight for control Clockwork

Vlad finally grew as a person realizing it was his action and drive for power that drew everyone away and has making amends as his new purpose

Dan just doesn’t want to be alone (makes sense the “no more painful human emotions” +Vlad’s anger and abandonment issues so he’s all the emotions and pain)

Dan is destabilizing flashing back to his pre Dark child form because he’s a being outside his destroyed timeline

Danny is the GOAT

Clockwork needs to fix what he can of the time streams and Danny has two choices Post Disasteroid+no powers or Pre Disasteroid+powers

Danny gives up being accepted so he can fix the realms “I’m Danny Phantom, proctor of humans and ghosts!”

They are back to being invisible losers and Sam is just happy goths aren’t popular anymore

The city doesn’t know how they avoided the Disasteroid but the Mayor declares ghosts are responsible for everything the city will now have a branch of ghost hunters and Danny Phantom is again public enemy #1

Clockwork transfers Dan from Vlad into one of the empty clones he’s Vlad’s responsibility now he’ll be too busy to help again

Clockwork’s powers are finite (so he isn’t omnipotent and all powerful) but he still feels something wrong in the stitches he feels weaker now

And Valerie has a Time Medallion and is pissed (but there was a Valerie in the crowd at the Mayor’s speech so the two Valeries might meet up in the sequel)

Jazz is ecstatic she was right about ghosts being emotions based

#danny phantom #a glitch in time #agit #what I'm reading

26 notes · View notes

13thdoctorposts · 11 months

Text

Michelle Gomez and Sacha Dhawan Panel

Please note this IS NOT word for word, but so you can get a general gist of the panel. Both Michelle and Sacha were soooooo hilarious.

Whovians of all ages got to ask both of them questions.

This post is just Michelle’s and Sachs’s part of the panel there is a seperate post for Michelle’s panel and Sacha’s panel will be up in the next couple days!

Shouting from the back…

Sacha: Oh so boring!

Michelle: security, security!

Sacha walk to the stage

Michelle : Sacha Dhawan everyone!

Sacha: I was standing up the back and I thought… this is so boring…

(in a bad Scottish accent) “oh me and Peter Capaldi”

Michelle: laughing hard (can’t understand what she’s saying)

Sacha sitting down hugging Michelle

Sacha: so how are you?

Michelle: oh you know between here to hellish

Sacha: I thought I would join you

Michelle: if you thought it was boring then you’re gonna think it’s really boring now. Ok 2 for the price of 1

Moderator: I feel like a 3rd wheel… next question

Questioner: Green wing and the book club were on when I was young, do you take responsibility for warping a generation of millennials?

Michelle: yes, yes I do. I’ve landed myself in shows that are a little different.

Questioner: Missy has her own Audio series what was it like having her as the main character?

Michelle: well obviously it’s great to not have to put up with other people, lol. It’s brilliant because it keeps me connected to a world that I was thrilled to be part of and it’s a laugh because I live in NY and they record in London, so I’m in a booth in NY by myself.

Moderator walks off stage… feels like a 3rd wheel

Sacha takes over from the Moderator

Sacha: Alright let’s ask some real questions now!

Michelle: laughing again can’t understand what she’s saying

Moderator from the question line on the floor: long time watcher first time asker (room is laughing hysterically at this point) in green wing in your office after everyone has left there was scenes of you or you character doing some amazing weird and wonderful… disturbing things, who came up with that concept that your character is doing these obscure boarder line illegal things?

Michelle: I think at that point I was still learning how to be a professional so I was still feral at that point and they would lock the camera off in my office and then let me fuck around.

Questioner: Hi Michelle…. First of all Sacha don’t come for my girl, bro,

Sacha: yes I love it

Questioner: I’m Māori bro I’ll see you in the parking lot

Sacha: I love it… god it’s turning me on

Questioner: Fuck that was…

Crowd laughing hysterically can’t hear

Questioner: What’s the best acting advice you’ve been given throughout your career?

Michelle: if you’re serious about it don’t ever give up, there’s so much rejection, and it took me so long to get where I am today. Surround yourself with like minded people. And go to the theatre I feel like the real education is on stage.

Questioner: What was it like bringing a comedic edge to such a scary character in the flight attendant?

I’m classically trained and I did an Epsom play not known for it comedic tendencies, and the review came out and said Michelle Gomez plays one of the funniest performances in the Master Builder by Epsom, and I was like WHAT? I was quite offended, I don’t know I’m being funny is my answer to your question. Miranda in flight attendant was not meant to be funny she was meant to be very scary, thank you. (Laughing)

Questioner: Sacha when I was in line for my photo I asked about the Rasputin dance and you said you were saving it, is now the time?

Sacha: is it the time? You know when I did the dance I thought it was written in the script… but it wasn’t and for some reason I thought it said ‘the master dances’ I realise now everyone who was there that day must have been thinking ‘what is he doing?’ I don’t think I’ll be able to bust those moves out again. I remember we had 5 minutes to shoot that scene and under pressure it’s amazing what shapes you throw, I remember not being able to walk the next day.

Question asker: I think that’s the best Master moment to date… both cheers and boos from the audience, and a lot of laughter.

Sacha in a deep voice: Come here my boy

Michelle in a little voice: mmmk? (About the comment not coming to Sacha)

Questioner: I’m just wondering if it’s true you and Sacha are going to do a spin off called the Masters? (Please note the answer was in jest!)

Michelle:Um… oh… deny deny deny… um maybe 🤷……….. You heard it here first… maybe.

Questioner: Sacha I was wondering how it felt when you replaced Jodie Whittaker?

Sacha: ahhhh…

Michelle: oh fuck…

Sacha: we’ll I knew about it

Michelle: oh he knew about it (The love/hate flirting they do is comedy gold, the chemistry is on point)

Sacha: I knew it was going to happen a couple months before and before I played the Master I always thought I’d love to play the Doctor, I’d love to be able to do it. But obviously being the Master I thought there’s no way I’d ever be the Doctor so it was amazing that the opportunity came up and I LOVED IT. But I did realise the Doctor has way to much pressure, the Master can come in mess things up then leave because I don’t have to worry about the mess but the Doctor then has to clean it up, so as much as it was nice doing it for a bit I was happy to give it back to Jodie.

Questioner: What are your next projects?

Michelle: We have a strike at the moment so nothing.

Sacha: I’ve got a show coming out in the UK called Wolf it’s a dark detective series with a a black comedy element to it it comes out in July I think

Michelle: and are you playing a Wolf?

Sacha (side eyeing Michelle): no, lol

Questioner: This is for both of you last time Missy interacted with a master it was the simm!master

Michelle: oh yeah 🙄

Questioner: They had an interesting dynamic my question is what do you think the dynamic between your Masters would be like?

Michelle: you’ll have to watch and see (again this was in jest… maybe letting us know to message RTD more to get on it! Lol)

Sacha: I think it’s going to be very sexual, the Master is a little bit in love with himself so

Michelle: oh my god… ok… oh yeah it would be dead sexy

Sacha: and slightly violent

Michelle: what is wrong with you…😏 ok honey 😎

Questioner: If your 2 Masters were on scene together what chaos do you think they would get up to that isn’t… that? (Again the answer is in jest)

Michelle: You’ll have to watch and see I don’t think you understand you’re getting an exclusive here. What would we get up to? Hmmm… you understand we’re actors we don’t really say the cruel stuff that’s written for us.

Sacha: what chaos would you like to see us get up to?

Questioner: I don’t know… kidnapping the Doctor doing crazy stuff…

Michelle: oh that’s what you mean, oh right yes, I see what you mean, so I’d stick him in a trunk and drive him to Paris and we’d have lunch and then we’d let the Doctor out and he’d have to get his own way home, and then we’d travel back in time and we’ll take you with us and we’ll go to the 1920s and we would be in Jazz club.

Questioner: what mundane superpower would you have?

Michelle: I hate emptying the dishwasher, I don’t mind loading it, but I don’t like rinsing that annoys me too so anything to do with the dish washer. Dishes are dumb.

Someone in the crowd; get Sacha to do it

Moderator: you know they don’t live together? Laughing

Sacha: after a night out when I’m a little drunk and I need to get home, in London getting home is a nightmare so if I could just click my fingers and be in bed

Michelle: whose bed?

Laughing so loud can’t hear what is said

Questioner: Which other masters have you meet in real life?

Sacha: I worked with Derek Jacobi, but I’ve not met anyone else, I did try following John Simm on instagram but he didn’t follow me back, that was a bit awkward

Moderator pointing at Michelle covertly trying to remind Sacha that he’s met her now

Sacha: oh yeah we’ve met (looking at Michelle)

Michelle: ummm… I did a season with John Simm, so you got 2 for the price of 1 there… I like to mess about a little bit between takes, and I thought this was very funny… John didn’t… I got someone from catering to get me a pear and I stuck it down my top, cos he had to go down and get a locket and so he pulled out the pear… because I have a lovely pear…

Questioner: that’s awesome

Michelle: I thought so.

Questioner: if you ever get a chance to meet Eric Roberts, he just came to Armageddon, I could have looked in his eyes all day long, I hope you get to meet him one day too.

Sacha: I just realised I did meet Eric Roberts actually (crowd laughs at his inability to remember the Masters he’s met)

Questioner: did could you look in his eyes all day

Sacha: no, but he’s very handsome and super lovely as well.

Moderator: did you know he had played the Master?

Sacha: I do now… (laughing) no I did, I did know (crowd is skeptical, Michelle looking off going lalalalala)

Questioner: With you Michelle we had our first female master and then with you Sacha our first non white Master, and then it feels like the Doctor is just copying you now that we had a woman Doctor and now a non white Doctor. How does it feel that the Doctor is just copying the Master now?

Sacha: I think not necessarily just with me as the Master or with Jodie, I think being part of Doctor who this time around it felt like the show creates some extreme worlds but it keeps an eye on what’s going on in the world generally and I think that’s, I’m really proud to be a part of it in that way. I’ve mentioned earlier I wanted to be part of the whoniverse maybe years earlier but actually being part of it this time round felt right and I kind of, even though I have some extreme storyline’s with Jodie about Gallifrey, I don’t know, I always thought about what was going on in the world and I think the show reflects that and I wanted to reflect that in my performance as well so I feel immensely proud about that.

Michelle: similarly for me it really felt like it was time to shake things up, why can’t the master be a woman? Be a mistress? And I felt like I got a lot of love from the transgender community and I get it, I understand it, like being an Uber nerd growing up and not feeling like I fit in, so I felt like I was paying homage to that in a big way. It felt like it was time, like it was current. Steven Moffatt always said it was the best person for the job at the time it didn’t matter (if it was a man or a woman)

*Coming soon… there will be a part 3 with Sacha… I just don’t have time to post now as I’m heading back home from this iconic trip, so Sachas panel will be a couple days away and Part 1 with just Michelle is already up.

Some random notes:

Let’s just say our little spy master isn’t afraid let his feminine self shine, lol. They have a really funny and flirty chemistry together.

They were sat next to each other at the autograph tables with a volunteer between each actor, Sacha and the volunteer swapped spots so Sacha and Michelle could sit next to each other where Michelle proceed to write on posit notes and throw them at him, and they were quiet funny together sitting there.

#sacha dhawan #michelle gomez #dhawan!master #gomez!master #gomez!missy #missy #the master #master #spymaster #13th doctor #thirteenth doctor #thirteen #13 #12th doctor #12 #twelth doctor #twelve

59 notes · View notes

harryleatherfit · 10 months

Text

Entergalatic🍸

Frankie Morales Oneshot x F!Reader || 5.1 k

you’re a law school student and you just recently moved to a new neighborhood, you happen to be neighbors with frankie morales. he comes around sometimes to help fix things, but tonight you’re at the same bar, under a beautiful night in miami.

warnings: any themes in triple frontier, mention of NA, mentions of using coke, mentions of substance abuse, choking, overstimulation, squirting, cum play, unprotected p in v, oral f! receiving, pearl necklace, alcohol consumption, mentions of masturbation, mentions of creampie (WEAR A CONDOM PLS)

lmk if i’ve missed anymore thx

ONE-SHOT PLAYLIST

Disco Tits- Tove Lo

Entergalatic- Kid Cudi

Replay- Dorian Electra Remix Lady Gaga

🪩Main Master List🪩

Frankie had suggested that he and the guys should go to the bar for a night of distress. They were all on edge for their trip to Columbia, after a long night of elongating their plan, they would all start to bicker. Never getting a second to spare for themselves, never getting a moment to slip away and forget their responsibilities, plus their past lives.

Redfly, Benny, Ironhead and Fish himself were putting everything on the line for Pope. He was fucking his informant, and he was letting his feelings get in the way for his line of work. Per usual of Santi.

Fish was bored, he had nothing to lose anymore. He was tired of chasing after the military and wasting his life away trying to get his flying license back. He was done with the fucking coke, done using and wasting his life away.

But he was hungry for more. Feral like a bear to have his life back. He wanted to settle down, start a life of his own. Run away and become somebody that he didn’t recognize. He wanted love. He wanted to be loved, but could he reciprocate that love? He’s broken and always has been.

Out of the whole group, he felt like he was the least to find love, his life was fucked the most, and after finishing his NA meetings, he felt whole as a person. For so long he was trying to push help away but it worked on him somehow. He wanted himself back.

They were walking in the Miami heat, turning down a busy street downtown, it was fucking crazy full at this hour, people from all walks of life filling every crevice of the road. Was it some holiday?

They peered into a club that was full to the brim. A dance floor, live music, a bar to drink at. Frankie couldn’t have asked for more.

They get past the bouncer, finding a corner near the back of the bar, hunkering down their space in the midst of all the chaos. It reeked of sex and alcohol. Gotta fucking love Miami, he thought.

He appreciated the small things, this crowd was beautiful and dressed so vibrantly, the dark sky with the full moon was gorgeous, and the music was floating inside his ears. Every second that passes his heart jumps for more.

He flags down the bartender, “I’ll get uh Whiskey Sour, you guys know what you want?”

They order their drinks and settle in their chairs.

An idea sparks in Frankies head, “Benny, how much money to go up to a random pretty girl and start dancin with her?”

“You’re fuckin crazy, you tryin to start some game topshot?” He barks back.

“Nah, tryin to see how far you’ll go for pussy.” He huffs under his breath, chasing it with another whiskey.

“Very fucking funny Fish, if thats what you want.”

Benny gets up, setting his jacket down, and he dove into the crowd of dancing people.

It’ll be a fun night for the pretty boy, Fish laughed.

“Hey, you guys know it’s a college night here. I think for Miami college that’s why it's so full. I don’t know if you’ll find much to do here.” The Bartender shouts over the music.

College night. Would you be here?

He glances over at the crowd, looking between every body. Searching.

“You’ve got plan s’to Fish?” Pope slurs.

“Maybe.” He can feel the pump of his heart quicken.

And finally he sees you, the sun in the room.

You were wearing this gorgeous orange sundress with golden flakes spread across the bottom, complimenting your skin tone. The top half caressing you, not only hugging you in every crevice but revealing your tattoos. He had only ever seen your tattoos when you ran in the neighborhood.

You had recently moved in next to him for the school year. You were living alone, after a long partying phase for your earlier years of college. You were in law school right now, and you had to focus.

You had met your neighbor. Ran into him a couple times around town, seeing each outside your houses, he would see you wash your car, you would drool over him through your window when you saw him cleaning his motorcycle.

There were a few times you were having house troubles, and you would saunter over, hoping he was able to help you. You didn’t exactly have thousands of dollars to pay someone to fix tiny things about your house.

When he would come over, he was always so polite, so gentle and kind to you. As you would immediately open the door, the brightest smile would wave across his face, the dimples in his cheeks deeplining into his face. The lines next to eyes, the deep furrow of his eyebrows, the strong curve of his nose. His strong, bulky arms. His fucking arms. The curve of his stomach, never failing to peek through his shirt. You screamed yourself to sleep, rubbing the ache away in your heated core, your clit craved his fingers.

He would always pick up his hat, and run his hands through his thick, dark hair. But when he would walk through the entrance of your house, you would have butterflies. You couldn’t calm yourself, and you would always be so hyper aware around him. He could never be attracted to you, you couldn’t have been his type, and you were so self conscious all the time. Being a young girl in college can really mess with your head.

You couldn’t guess how much older he was than you, you weren’t sure if he was in a relationship, so you decided to keep your distance. You didn’t want to get in the way of his peaceful life.

But from afar, you looked so happy on the dance floor. Frankie was studying your every single move. Your hair swishes, you pull strands back to relieve your face. Sweat collects all over your neck from dancing, watching the rise and fall of your chest. He watched the fast motion of your head falling back with the music, your friends crowding around you, giggling in the air.

You were so radiant, desirable, and happy.

You spotted him immediately when he walked in with his friends. Your friends immediately called dibs on all of them except for Frankie, so ironic, how could no one want a man as fucking hot as him?

You were hoping he would see you, pull you away, and wish your woes away just for one night.

But you didn’t have the courage to go up to him, you felt so small compared to him. How could you mean anything to him?

And finally you trust yourself enough to make eye contact with him. He’s already looking you up and down, sliding the last of his drink down. He looked like a lion, ready to lunge across a meadow to claim what's his.

He was wearing his usual trucker hat, his locks peeking beneath the sides. A black leather jacket, stretching across his body, unzipped. He was wearing a low cut white undershirt with a v line, for you could see his exposed happy trail. And his last addition, gold chains on his neck and wrists.

Usually guys your age tried to wear chains to make them more appealing, to lure girls into bed and get their cock sucked and go, but Frankie wearing this chain wasn’t just that. This was his flaunt, his teasing. You knew he had money, but not sure how much he had.

“Hey, what’s all this eye fucking with they guy over there, he’s looking at you like he’s gonna eat you for a meal.” Your friend Lexie yells into your ear.

“The night is still young Lexie,” You brace your hands on her shoulders, “Let him look at me.” You purr into her ear.

Immediately something ticked in Frankies brain, he needed your hands around him. He needed to be with you, alone.

“Fish, what's gotten you so quiet?” Ironhead pats him on the shoulder, “You’re practically drooling over the damn floor on the edge of your seat.”

“My neighbor, she’s here.” He chokes.

“That college girl you were tellin us about, yeah? The one with the house troubles.” Pope asks. “You thinkin anything could come out of it?”

“I don’t know, possibly. She’s a fuckin sweetheart. She gets all shaky when I come over.”

“That’s a sign man, go gettem.” Redfly claps his shoulder.

“Not after another fuckin drink.” He needed to be intoxicated enough to not be different around you, he wanted to be himself around you.

He shoots it down, getting up and receiving cheers from the boys. He couldn’t handle them anymore, he needed you.

When he gets up, the pain in your lower abdomen soothes, you could feel the gravitational pull enclosing.

He makes his way through the crowd, weaving through the bodies, making the most blood curdling eye contact with you, you break free from your friends.

“I didn’t think I would ever find you at a bar, Mr. Morales.” You smirk.

That name you always used, insisted, made his cock twitch in the tight cloth of his jeans.

“Please, call me Frankie.” You laugh and roll your eyes, with all the people on the dance floor, you two are enclosed. In your little bubble away from the loud world.

You had a tumbler full of Vodka in your hand, you took a swig of it and offered it to him.

“No I’m okay darlin, don’t want too much tonight.” He stares at you while you take another drink.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Morales.” Winking at him, edging him on. The intoxication from the alcohol makes you feel so free you can say anything around him. He moves closer to you, finding your ear to whisper in, “I know what you’re doing pretty girl, usin that name.” He whispers.

A song change, some Kid Cudi song and the crowd raised havoc, but nothing changed between you two. You were closer than ever, practically hugging each other so when you spoke you could hear each other.

“Look at you, wearing this perfect dress, your hair tied up, your tattoos peakin out.”

“You like what you see?” You ask. This is it.

“Do I like what I see? I always have darlin,” He finds your hand and kisses your wrist, “Don’t be shy on me now.”

You put your hands around his neck and dance to the beat of the song. Entergalactic.

His hands were roaming around on your back, and you could feel the tight cold leather against your chest, making your nipples harden.

You flipped around so his chest could be against your back, and his hands were touching your torso. Up and down.

You decided to swirl your ass against his lower half, falling down to the ground and getting back up, letting loose with the music. He twirled you around a few times, getting in rhythm with your body.

You feel the metal of his belt, only a thin layer of fabric on your body separating you from him.

You could feel growth expanding on your ass, you wanted more.

“You little minx, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” His eyes peering into your soul.

“I know exactly what I’m getting myself into Francisco.” You purr.

Not only did Frankie snarl, but the animal inside him snapped. He needed you now.

“Hm, need another drink?” He grabs your hand, pulling you off the dance floor.

Immediately you feel the slick pooling down your leg.

You didn’t care about your friends calling after you, and you didn’t care about anything that's happening right now. You needed Frankie immediately.

Frankie walks back with a water bottle in hand, smart man.

“Walk with me gorgeous.”

You follow him, he found a secluded hallway across the bathroom, behind the ruckus of the club, no one to be seen in sight.

“What could someone like you, be here at a club at this hour?” He asks, in a pitch you couldn’t even register.

“I tagged along with my friends, I was bored at home. Nothing to study, no one to screw.”

He chuckles, “No one to fuck, huh?” The heat between you both ticks up a thousand degrees, “And how do you like to be fucked angel?”

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” You repeat.

The world comes crashing down when he shoves his lips onto yours. Moving so quickly you don’t know where you are in space and time. All you can smell is him, all you can feel is him.

In between breaths, “I like to be fucked rough and hard.” You reach your hand down to his cock, “I want to be fucked so hard I can’t think.”

With those words, he can’t hold back anymore, he picks you up. Pulling your legs around his waist, carrying you into the bathroom. Messily locking the door behind him. He slams you down onto the counter and grabs your face, pulling your lips in. His tongue invades your mouth. Never leaving and exploring you as a whole.

Your legs wrap around him again, the sting in your pussy hurting so bad. You needed relief. He withdrew from your lips and started to lap at your throat. You were half-lidded, barely being able to see what was going on. The ecstasy of oxytocin firing off in your brain. You couldn’t comprehend words, let alone understand that Frankie Morales was anchored to you right now.

Your skin was so soft, you melted under Frankies touch. He was sucking so hard on your neck you knew it would bruise so heavily but you didn’t care. You were his for the night. The whole world could know that. His fucking slut.

He trailed down your throat, shoving his hands under your dress finding your bare hard nipples.

“You poor thing, pretty slut not getting her fucking in for the night.” He mutters under his breath.

The pleasure you felt from his thick heavy fingers under your dress added to your fire.

He pushed the straps of your dress past your shoulders exposing your tits. He attacks each nipple, swirling one in his mouth and pinching the other. He popped off, blowing air on it. This makes you squirm, throwing your head back to the turbulent feeling.

He pushes your dress past your legs, all the fabric meeting at your stomach.

He stances wider, opening your legs wider. He grazed his hands over your covered mound, teasing you. You were laying on your elbows, looking down at his bulge, the swell of his belly meeting your core. His body fit yours so earth shatteringly.

“All wrapped up for me, sweet thing. So pretty and perfect. You wear lace every night?”

“On nights, I know I’m gonna get fucked.” You cry.

“Fucking slut, knew she was gonna get fucked from the start, didn’t think it was gonna be me, yeah?”

“If nothing happened here,” You heave, “I was gonna go home, walk my ass to your house, and get fucking pounded.”

Each word you say coaxes him more, sliding your underwear off, relieving your pussy from its tremor. He bites his lower lip, “Look at you pretty girl, pussy leakin everywhere.” He skims your entrance collecting your juices on his fingertips. “Only a slut can be this wet, my fuckin slut.” He shoves three fingers inside your sopping cunt, stretching you so wide. He starts off slow, but then he sets an unbearable pace.

“Frankie, that’s too fast, if you keep going I’m gonna come.” You wine.

“You ain’t gonna come just fuckin yet, not before my hand gets tired.” You’re practically dripping all over his wrist. The squelching of your pussy filling the room, along with the guttural mewls coming from your throat.

Frankies arm was working you so electrically, the veins in his arms were glistening. The muscles in his shoulders are so thick, his jacket was barely even on now, his shirt leaving none to the imagination.

Black ink, scaling all over his body. The thought of your pussy grazing his soft stomach, made you want to do unspeakable things. That alone made you want to be his whore. Only his fucking whore.

He spit on your cunt, lubing you up for more. The contact of the liquid makes you flinch. He wasn’t holding you anymore, he was burying his fingers inside you, bringing his other hand to work your clit.

‘Its- its- too much. Too much Frankie- I can’t last.” You gasp.

“No, you’re not allowed to cum, sluts don’t come.” He grunts in your ear, shoving his whole hand inside your tight pussy, “You think you get to come? You think just because you’re so close you get to come?”

“Please Frankie- I’ll be so good- ngh- fuck- fuck, I’ll be the best girl in the world.” You howl.

The whole club could practically hear Frankie finger fucking you.

“I can hear ya y’know? At night. I can hear callin out my name when you play with this pretty pussy. I bet you have a pretty pink dildo so deep inside ya thinking it’s my cock fillin you up.”

You can’t take anymore, the more he speaks, the tighter your walls become, “I bet you bring a little vibrator to this bud, torturing it, wishing it was my tongue.”

“I didn’t-ah- fuck-shi- I didn’t think I was that- loud. My window’s always-closed.”

“No, gorgeous. You scream so good, I can feel your body convulsing when you come because of me.” He licks a long stripe on your tit, “Look, fluttering on my fingers, fuckin pussy can’t take it can she. It’sokay ‘cause I’m gonna fuck you til you can’t see.” Fastening his pace again, “You can fuckin come now, come on these fingers like the slut I know you are,” Tears forming at the edge of your eyes, you can’t take the burn in your pussy, too powerful. Slamming your hands to his wrists, trying to make him stop but he just kept going.

“My fucking pussy.” He gives his last pump inside you, lifting his fingers to his mouth. Groaning around his digits. “You taste so sweet angel, pussy so sweet I’d get fuckin fat on eatin you out every night.”

Breaching your climax, chest heaving at a million miles per hour, “No matter what you look like,” You rub your hands along his torso, you wish you could worship his stomach, his powerful body, “I’ll always be fuckin yours Frankie.”

He sloppily finds your lips again, kissing you until you can’t feel the throb in your sopping cunt.

“Said you were gonna be a good girl?” He questions, easing the fuse on your clit. Shaking your head yes, “Give me your hands.” No questions asked, you put your hands in front of your bodies, waiting for your next instruction, just like his obedient little slut.

You watch him step back, loosening his belt and slipping it out of the loops to his jeans.

“Gonna fuckin tie me up? Tie me up like a fuckin whore, takin your cock and not able to do a thing about it?” You taunt. Rubbing your pussy on the fabric of his jeans, soaking his crotch area.

He takes the belt and slaps your pussy with it, you jump at the sensation, hitting your clit just right, groaning just thinking about being tied up like a fucking bunny, not able to move and his cock relentlessly slipping out of you.

“You fuckin dirty girl, likin her pussy to be slapped. Dirty dirty fuckin whore.” Tugging at your wrists to go above your head, weaving the belt to keep your hands snug together.

He gets on his knees, eyes level with eachother, “Give me one more beautiful, give me one more and then I’ll give you my fuckin cock.”

His tongue melding into your cunt, delving so far to a point you couldn’t reach yourself. He wrapped his hands around your waist, bringing you closer to the edge of the sink. Sitting you up as your legs dangle off his back. Heels clicking against each other.

His tongue drives inside you so fast, screaming the fire away in your lungs.

You roll your hips over his face, feeling the hook of his nose brush your clit, sinking further onto his face. He hums, moving his face side to side, pulsating his tongue. Not being able to move your hands made you squirm, trying to relieve the ache in your blazing core so quickly.

Once his tongue reaches a hole you’d never think to touch yourself, you tighten.

“Never had your ass full before?” He asks.

“No, never.” You whimper.

“It’s s’okay, one day princess.” He coos, “I heard when you fuck a girl so fast in the ass, she squirts instantaneously because the pleasur is so intoxicating the pussy doens’t know which is which.” He chuckles.

Thinking about squirting on Frankies dick, makes you spasm, the orgasm bursting out of you from nowhere.

“Hmmm, that’s it baby, come all over my fuckin face, give it all to me.”

Once he’s done devouring the last of your sensitive nub, he gets up, undoing his belt to your hands, letting it drop to the floor. Never being so relieved to touch him again.

“That was really fucking good Frankie, jesus.” You shiver.

“Don’t thank me yet, darlin. Haven’t even fucked you yet.”

The thought of seeing his cock now made your eyes roll to the back of your head, finally getting to feel his length break you open.

“Go on, get the fucker out. See it for yourself.”

You gulp, bracing yourself. You fiddle with the button to his pants, ultimately undoing it and sliding his pants down partially. You could feel your entrance fluttering, finally just one more layer.

You reach the band of his boxers, slowly bringing them down rescinding a seethe from Frankie through his teeth. And fucking finally all you were waiting for the whole night.

His cock was fucking thick and long. You’ve never seen a dick this long before. The head of his cock so red and needy, ready to fill you. Ready to fill his dumb cock whore.

“Jesus Frankie, it is gonna fit?” You whimper, you just want to feel him sinking inside you already.

“Princess, I’ll fucking make it fit, don’t worry.” He kisses your cheek.

He gives his cock a few pumps in his hand. Wait, you need a condom.

“Frankie, we need a condom, quick.” You weep.

“I’ll put out. I promise.” You side eye him, every fucking guy says that.

“I promise, no babies tonight.” He winks at you.

God your babies would be fucking adorable. His babies mixed with you. Horny motherfucker.

“No more pussy if you don’t pull out, that’s it.”

“Can’t say that now, can ya? This pussy’s been mine and always will be mine.” He snaps.

He takes his cock, rubbing his cock with the swollen lips of your cunt. Mixing your slick with his pre-cum.

“Look at ya, already got cock brain, pussy’s quiverin for me.”

“Just fuck me already, cock can’t do anything but be soft” You purr.

“I’m gonna fuck that mouth away, just you watch.” And he slams into you, “This pussy ain't gonna be the same when we go home.”

And at the hilt, he thrusts into your pussy, splitting you open. Your jaw dropping, as his dick breaches you.

“Oh my- fucking god. Frankie, you’re so big- so so big.” You mewl. He keeps pushing inside you, cock sliding in and out of you, your liquids sliding out of your hole, slipping to the ground. His shirt riding up over his love handles, pants laying on his upper thighs. The happy trail on his pillowed stomach colliding with your mound. Fucking into you so right, his balls were hitting the back of your legs. Girthy cock never failing to make you flail like a fucking thumper bunny, making your body go into shock.

“Gonna fuckin come when I say you can come. Hear me? Gonna fuck this pussy so deep your can feel it in your throat.” He yells.

You can barely acknowledge what he's saying so lost in the midst of it all, your throat bare from screaming.

“So- deep Frankie- so fuckin deep-.” You scream.

You sit up on the counter to hold onto him, to pull him closer as he fucks up into you, the angle making you go dizzy. You both were so sweaty, the slap of your bodies together making your skin flush red.

“Fuckin whore,” He grunts, “Pussy lips fittin like a glove, cock so good, it’s practically slipping out. Fuck baby.” He’s pounding into you so fast you can’t breathe, the whimpers from your body disappearing. His hands grab your waist, pulling you in and out on his dick, holding you steady.

“I’m your fucking whore,” You cry, “Always you’re fuckin whore. Been waiting- so fuckin- long to be fucked by you. Been such a good girl for this cock.” You shiver, “Want to be fuckin bruised tonight, want be used.”

“Oh baby, just my fuckin needy whole, just a fuckin cum dump. My pretty little cum dump just waitin for what's hers.”

He pumps into you, tantalizing the spongy spot inside your willowing cunt. As he pulls out, the pain is so sharp from being empty you could fall over and shrivel up.

He keeps kissing you, fucking into you and bouncing with you up an down. Saying his name over and over again as a prayer. Only Frankie can do this to you. Finally getting fucked by your next door neighbor.

“You’re right- fuck- ngh- keep going. You caught me- I’ve dreamt about this- since- shit- I moved in. The moment- ah fuck- I saw you, I wanted to suck you off. I imagined your- fingers inside me every night.” You were trembling, sweating beading over your face, you wanted to come so bad but he fucking said no.

“Strugglin their sweetheart? Pussy want something?”

“I want to fuckin cum Frankie, I want to come over your dick and feel you dripping out of me. Please, fill me up, dump into me. Fill me so full I’m dripping of you all night and everyone can see.”

“Dick brain taking over too much baby, not tonight but another night.” He soothes.

Another night, more nights with him. More nights being drunk on Frankie.

“Come on, let’s make this pussy cum again, yeah?”

You nod your head, and you aren’t prepared for what happens next.

He picks you up from the counter, walking towards a wall of the bathroom and propping you there, using the support of his thighs to keep you up. This could make you cum alone.

You were hovering over his dick against the wall, him pulling you up and down again, clamping down on his glistening cock, covered of you.

Bouncing on his cock, the angle unleashed something in you. Not only was the head of dick flittering with the spongy area of your pussy, but his length kept kissing your cervix, tearing you open.

“My dirty fucking slut, loving that my cocks breaking her tight little pussy open, “ You wail, the intermissable things he’s said to you tonight never fails to make your pussy clamp around his cock. His dirty fucking mouth making you cum to see the stars. He wraps his hand around your throat, closing your airway enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your head. His fingers over the correct veins, cutting off circulation to your brain.

“Like being choked? Like my big fuckin hand wrapped around your throat?” He snarls, “Those pretty eyes can’t focus when a dicks controlling her brain.”

You feel your stomach swell, a feeling you haven’t felt in a while, this balloon close to popping in your lower belly, never able to hide itself.

“I can feel it too, pretty girl, let go for me, douse my cock. Cum for me.” He purrs into your ear.

“Frankie- it’s strong- it’s too much- i’m gonna- im’ gonna fuckk.” Your mind blanks.

And hesitantly but surely, you hear a stream leaving your pussy, leaking all over his cock and onto the bathroom floor, soaking the hairs of his happy trail. Making the light denim of his jeans turn into a deep indigo from the leakage of your pussy.

“Yes- squirt all over my fuckin cock, yesss, pussy so perfect.” He places a hand on your stomach, feeling for his dick in the depths of your body, “See what my dick can do to your body? See when you’re a good girl you get to squirt all over me, and feel my cock all the way in this tight little pussy?”

You shudder, you almost shut down from all the pleasure, but he doesn’t stop just yet after your cunt stopped spurting out water. He forces you back on his cock a few more times, this is for himself you figure.

“God so fucking- good for me- pussy shovin me out, so tight and slick,” He shudders, “Such a pretty girl, so happy you live next to me gorgeous.” He pulls out, setting you briskly down on the floor, falling to your knees from being so numb.

Giving his beading cock a few more pumps, “Fuck where can I cum? Fuck- baby I’m not gonna last much longer, it’s-”

“Cum on my fucking neck, give me a pearl necklace Francisco.” You look into his eyes. Hot white spurts of Frankies cum falling all over your neck, your tongue managing to catch some. So salty and sweet, the perfect treat. He’s holding onto the wall, chest heaving so heavy, cock dangling in the air, your hand at the tip of his dick, collecting more cum to swirl into your mouth.

“Fuckin dirty girl, wearin me like I’m jewelry.” He laughs, “Gonna go out in public and show me off or what?”

“Couldn’t have you sleeping out my pussy, so I can have you slipping down my tits.”

He couldn’t believe the nasty head you had, but he fucking loved it, he loved everything about you. He wet a cloth to clean you up, to sooth the dull ache in your lower abdomen. You were so blissed out you would have fallen asleep.

“Come home with me.” He asks.

You did.

————

heyy everyone🙋🏻‍♀️ so how’d i do. tad scared this isn’t good bc it’s my first one shot BUT DAMNNNNNN

#frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #pedro pascal #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal fanfics #oneshot #smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie catfish morales #catfish morales

44 notes · View notes

sommerregenjuniluft · 2 months

Note

Need to know what fix ur talking abt in the tags of that corruption post… for a friend ofc

ok so i sent so many voice messages back and forth with elio and i’m listening to them rn and trying to summerize. it’s not a fic yet, more of a vague idea but basically i need you to think full on devotion & loyalty. like no bounds, no limits, just All fucking In.

evan is the leader/heir of a syndicate (mafia/yakuza/crime family whatever) and barty is his feral right hand man aka the guard dog. i’m quoting myself now from the voicenotes: to me barty—even though he shouldn’t or probably actually doesn’t like being controlled (evan will always be the exception)—always carries this devoting/serving energy with himself. in canon he’s like one of the smartest fucking characters we know yet he still chooses to use that to serve riddle. ofc he is getting back at his father like this so there is def some self motivation but it’s mostly For Someone Else. and he’s definitely wreaking the most chaos and having the most fun he can have !BUT it’s always within a line. the line of not being caught, fulfilling his tasks, executing the plan -> serving his master. he’s not stepping a foot outside of it if it means jeopardizing what his devoted is going for, even if he’s dancing on it like a drunken ballerina. and when they first meet barty is lost. he’s feral, he’s fighting tooth and nail to get himself out of the scenarios his big ass can never leave it at good enough mouth is getting him into and he always gets away with it but boy does he get himself roughed up in the process, like he has zero self-preservation. when evan sees him like that he knows he’ll die sooner or later because one day he’ll miscalculate and the injuries he scores won’t be cured by retreating and licking his wounds. he’s in search of a capable, skilled right hand man that has no issues butchering someone to pieces and making them piss scared. someone as clever, amoral and insane like barty and evan knows all it takes is a guiding hand aka an owner. evan to me is a master manipulator: charming, threatening, intimidating, powerful, impossible to see through, (near) unshakable. he’s the heir of a noble family, he’s literally born to rule. he’s a crazy good dueller in canon, doesn’t back down from any challenge. -> insanely capable, incredible leader material. he knows barty will need training and in the fic barty will definitely fuck up to the point where evan will have to discipline him even over points he doesn’t want to reach (because he obv starts developing possessive/protective feelings over barty as well) but he’ll have to actually hurt him because it’s what needs to be done. and he’ll 100% be there in the aftermath to pick up the pieces, no questions asked. taking an example here i told elio that barty disrespects an other syndicate so evan has to give them one of barty’s fingers to keep the peace. elio responded to this with What if evan can’t do it so barty does it himself?? which. yeah holy fuck dude. that level of devotion just- i cant. they make me insane.

#i think that’s all for me but i might come back if i think of me i’m about to pass out #sweet dreams nonny thank u so much for asking about them!!#guard dog fic #guard dog #<- there should be more related stuff under this tag on my blog too #rosekiller #anomnom

16 notes · View notes

whaleofatjme1920 · 9 months

Note

if requests are still open

begging for any sort of tf2 smut for the defense classes and/or solly bc they're so underrated

General Defense Class and Soldier Smut Thoughts

[GN!Reader, I kept it REALLY general.]

[Warnings: General smut, you know the drill. MINORS DNI. GET OUT.]

[AN: look I have no excuses for why this is taking literal months just- sorry love bug it's here now]

Reblogs are appreciated!

Demoman

A part of me wants to say he's actually,, not a sexual person? Like, he's really playful and flirty but sex is like, he can go without it and be just fine.

But in the case he IS craving that kind of physical intimacy with you, be uh, prepared for possibly whiskey dick. I honestly think he's not too big on penetration if that makes any sense. Like, he'll spend forever between your legs making you feel good and use his fingers. Likes when you touch his dick but actual penetration?

When he IS fucking you, it's actually kind of slow, sweet and romantic! He's not into the whole jackhammer thing nor does he think that sex should be like, porn kink fest y'know?

He has some old fashioned ideas on sex and will refer to it as making love. He really spends his time on you. Doesn't really care about himself as much as getting you off.

Heavy

So, so careful. I think Mikhail is more inclined to taller, not petite partners because he's afraid he'll actually break them otherwise. Even then, he's still afraid he'll hurt you! He knows who he is!

He's also not very kinky, but like, he does have a breeding and slight size kink? Doesn't matter if you're afab or amab, beg him to breed you or fill you up and he'll go feral.

He's a gentle dom. Can't see him being too mean but he will punish you if you step out of line. He's big on spanking and edging, loves hearing you beg and break for him to finally fill you.

He's packing. His dick is BIG. Not so much long but it's thick and will stretch you out. If you're giving him head, good luck!! Lucky if you even get the tip fully in.

Engineer

Another sweetie pie, but I actually think he likes being the sub or the bottom depending. He's a switch/vers but tends to move towards bottoming and subbing. Either way, he'll do what makes you happy.

He's kinda romantic too. Loves to be taken care of and to spoil you. Can and will spend eternity between your legs - like ride his face please!! And then let him cum inside of you. He hates cumming anywhere else than inside of you.

He likes the closeness, really. How your hearts seem to beat in synch when he fills you up, or how you fill him up. He really likes the fullness feeling and he's over the moon if you enjoy that too.

He's a little kinky but not in the way you're expecting, I feel the kink play is that subtle kind that leaks into other aspects of your life like master dynamics and whatnot.

Soldier

Sex with him is.... Interesting. I feel I've touched on this before but to reiterate, it's more of a performance than it actually is sex. Like, he will jackhammer because that's what American men do.

Honestly if you want him to change anything up just insinuate American men do X and it'll somehow get incorporated into the next time he fucks you.

He's always topping and dom. Always. You cannot fight him on this. He likes being ultra macho masculine. Has nice muscles though so enjoy looking at those when he's on top of you.

I think once and a while, you can convince him to be softer and make love. But honestly it's feral, what goes on in your bedroom. Feral, lots of yelling, gets loud, it's.... He eagle screeches at one point or another.

#minors dni #tf2 x reader #tf2 demoman x reader #tf2 heavy x reader #tf2 engineer #tf2 x you #tf2 headcanons #minors do not interact

34 notes · View notes

dairy-farmer · 1 year

Note

How differently do you think the dicktim biosib AU would have gone if the reveal happened before Jack and Janet Drake were alive? Dick snapped by the end of the first part of the AU. He didn't trust any of the family and it was likely made worse by Tim regressing in mind.

Speaking of regressing, what if the reveal was brought on by some magical mishap. Robin aged down by some amateur magician's spell. And Nightwing was called on by Bruce who needed help watching over Gotham because the spell didn't age Tim down to the age 3 but 4 or 5, during the earliest years of Tim's ECT when the trauma of seeing your parents fall and being kidnapped was really, really fresh in Tim's mind so he's on a dissociative state. Bruce has no idea what to do. Clearly he needs to investigate what happened to Tim, both in the present and the past, but he can't leave Tim alone (he tried doing that earlier but then little Tim went into a panic attack).

Nightwing comes, albeit unsure how he'll react because he's still having a hard time with Tim sharing his brother's name and looking like him and now being the same age as him. Then he sees Timmy. In hindsight, Bruce thinks that maybe he shouldn't have called his eldest who had a hard time during his first few years, adopted. But then Tim responds!! He recognizes Dick? He called him Dickie?? Suddenly, Bruce has a feral oldest son and a dissociating almost son. Where is Alfred when Bruce needs him? In a sabbatical in England. I need him there to make sure the whole situation really blows up in astronomical proportions.

-🦆

!!!!!!!!!!OH MY GOD!!!!! THIS IS SUCH A TOP TIER CONCEPT!!! the idea that dick found out tim was HIS timmy while jack and janet were still alive would really put dick through so much trauma.

i honestly think that a lot of dick would regress to that same pained bloodthirsty hatred he had for zucco and attack anyone including bruce, clark, and his friends when they try to reason and talk to him. because as hard as he was trying to find timmy, part of him wasn't expecting to find him alive because why would someone kidnap a kid and then just keep them alive (unless they were doing truly despicable things to them)????

but then he does find timmy. he finds him ALIVE.

but terrified. scared. and sobbing in petrified fear when he's not stone cold silent and catatonic.

dick is devastated. if there was a better word to describe he'd be that. he's absolutely gutted and so relieved he could cry. he feels like he's on the verge of throwing up and crying so hard he just stops breathing. when dick finds out that tim had been hit with some magic he'd been concerned. a few magic users had been called in to help with clean up and through the grape vine dick had heard that robin had been hit with something particularly nasty, some kind of time spell.

when bruce had called him he hadn't been surprised to hear him mention tim but he was surprised to be asked for help. bruce's voice is noticeably strained and he tells dick about how alfred is out of town and he really had his hands full with gotham and normally he wouldn't ask but things have really taken a turn with tim and-

dick can hear a child start cryng and screaming on the other end of the line. he can hear what sound like little frantic fists starting to bang on a door and the muffled cries grow louder and bruce curses and presumably tries to get to tim. he can hear bruce's strained voice go from a low whisper to assurance and comfort as a little boy sobs in a way that has dick's chest going tight.

it's not that dick doesn't like tim. it's just that tim...he just...he brings back bad memories for dick and being in the cave and hearing bruce yell 'tim' or alfred say 'master tim' or even dick being forced to say the name tim and not mean his...

it hurts. dick hasn't been to see a therapist or a psychiatrist ever but he's fought enough of them and he's pretty sure being close to tim is not good for his health. he'll get over it. he'll overcome the mental barrier eventually but until he does he resolved to keep his distance.

but hearing a child cry and hearing bruce plead with tim that it was alright and he was here now and he was sorry for leaving while tim was asleep-

dick isn't heartless. and something...something about hearing some try and console a sobbing child named tim just twists something in dick's gut and he can't, in good conscience, tell the lie about being too busy that was on the tip of his tongue.

bruce sends him a batplan on autopilot to his location and dick arrives in just a few short hours. bruce tries to call a handful of times before giving up and just forwarding the case file of what he's accumulated so far.

dick reads it over, growing more disturbed the closer he gets. tim had been been hit with a spell by the magician in custody of the league. initially it had knocked him out but after getting medical attention and a consult from a magic user it was determined that tim had been affected by a time inversion spell. those spells are tricky because they can only be removed by the one who made it and as far as they could tell the magic user was an amaeteur and nowhere near the level to undo a spell of this complexity.

their recommendation was to get tim somewhere safe where he could be contained.

bruce had done that.

only to greatly regret it when tim woke up as a five year old and immediatly started panicking about being locked in a room, begging bruce to let him out.

bruce suspects tim to be the victim of some kind of domestic abuse. it hurts dick's heart to read that. bruce notes about how the sight of bruce in the cowl had frightened tim so terribly he'd urinated over himself.

somehow dick can detect the shame in bruce's writing as he reads that.

the picture painted is not a nice one. tim is anxious, skittish, he's frightened of loud noises, and of being left alone. he vomits when upset and he has a stutter in his voice. bruce has noted that tim gets out of breath quickly and is easily fatigued by too much physical or emotional activity.

the part that disturbs bruce the most is the borderline catatonia where tim will withdraw and enter a sort of headspace where he's almost... mind-controlled. he obeys bruce's every word but doesn't respond back even when prompted. he'll eat and drink if encouraged which he won't do normally because tim suffers from nausea which won't allow him to keep down food for long.

bruce has run blood panels, scans, and even pulled tim's decade old medical files. only for nothing to be physically wrong with him. tim's medical file is suspiciously thin and bruce notes how he just gets a weird feeling as he reads it over. he needs to look into it. there's something in his gut telling him something isn't right.

tim is terribly traumatized and bruce gets the feeling that it's not from him seeing dick's parents die at the circus. tim had told him about how he'd nightmares of that night for years but never in a way that told bruce that it would result in this kind of state.

tim's hair is so thin and bruce has included photos where it can seen that there are small patches where the hair is so thin it's nearly a bald spot and it's with dawning horror that bruce realizes it's most likely because of telogen effluvium. hair loss brought about by extreme stress.

tim's blood test results also show similarly concerning results. tim at five years old has the cortisol and catecholoamine levels of someone six times his age.

it's bad.

dick feels concern for tim deepen when he lands. he has no idea what he's walking into.

the cave is empty and dick remembers how the file said tim hadn't liked how dark the cave was so bruce had moved the operation to the manor. dick heads up. he changes out of his uniform first because the last thing he wants is to upset a toddler even more.

dick passes through the cuckoo clock entrance into bruce's office and can hear some soft crying distantly. so dick follows it.

he's not sure what it is in his mind that 'clicks' when he walks into the sight of bruce in a wife beater and pajama shorts carrying and rocking a little baby that can't possibly be five because he looks no older than two. bruce looks haggard and tired because he'd made it three days before calling dick for help in gotham. there are dark circles under his eyes and he looks like he hasn't shaved as he softly whispers to a whimpering child curled up in his arms. tim is in little yellow duckie pajamas. there's still a tag on the collar of the shirt hanging out of the back of it. at the sound of dick's footsteps tim lifts his head and bruce looks so relieved as they both turn to look at him.

tim lifts his little head and turns a chubby red-cheeked and tear stained face to him.

something in dick stops cold. it's like the entire world slows down and part of him distantly wonders if this is what wally feels all the time.

tim's sweet baby eyes settle on him and his expression crumbles as small arms stretch out for him and a fresh wave of tears as tim brokenly reaches for him, little voice hoarse as he yells "daddy!"

something snaps in dick. it's almost audible in his ears. it sounds like a bone buckling under pressure and just...snapping.

that face. that voice. that call of daddy that was always so joyous and followed by shrieking laughter as dick and timmy's dad would lift tim up and toss him in the air before catching him. only now that voice had none of the happiness. just pure desperation and fear and it's like dick gains tunnel vision. all he sees is his precious baby timmy who was taken from him being held back in the arms of a man who tugs tim back as tim tries to escape him.

his timmy screams and a decades worth of rage and pain races to the front of dick's mind and turns him into an animal.

dick's first instinct is to get his innocent baby brother away from the thing holding him. but he takes two steps and tim is pulled further away with that THING blocking his view and that's when dick just decides to kill it.

it'd be easy. like snapping the neck of a dog snapping at him. at some point in the scuffle dick has his teeth in the thing's arm and tim suddenly gets thrown onto a nearby couch. tim shrieks as he's in the air and starts sobbing when he lands.

and as much as dick wants to get rid of this THING as much as he wants to make it pay for scaring his timmy- dick is not about to lose his timmy again.

so dick runs. he snatches his timmy and runs, weaving and dodging and ignoring the yelling behind him. all he cares about is the little, warm body curled up against him and shaking.

dick finds an old crawlspace, a corner that sparks something in his memory about aged hands pushing food and juiceboxes in and a light shining in as his new guardian begged dick to come out.

it's a tight squeeze with timmy but dick recalls the big space at the end with a little window thining down on the lawn below. dick knows they will be safe there and that THING behind him is too big to fit through it.

timmy is softly sobbing against him, nuzzling close and hiccuping and he's cradled close and dick is only barely biting back his tears as he hastily examines tim. his little hands, his face, his little legs, and baby tummy. dick bites back a sob at tim's bald spot and pushes down the vicious snarl that wants to rip out of him. his timmy is too thin. his cheeks aren't as rosy and there are dark circles under his eyes, his timmy isn't as round and sweet and chubby and dick wants to cry at the thought of his timmy starving to death. it'd been one of the nightmares that haunted dick the worst. of timmy falling into the sewer or some big hole and crying but no one coming to save him and slowly wasting away. nightmares of timmy clutching his baby timmy and sobbing at ever rumble, crying out 'dickie! dickie i'm so hungry!'

dick trembles as he cradles the back of tim's tender head, stroking his baby fine hair and rocking the two of them, murmuring how it was okay dickie was here, dickie was here now just like he'd promised tim he would be.

and his baby timmy makes a soft sound at that.

"dickie?" he asks in that heartachingly sweet voice that haunted dick's every living moment for years. "dickie? dat you?"

dickie can't hold it back and lets a sob burst forth from his chest, sniffling as he nods, pulling timmy's sweet baby body back far enough so he can see him. timmy's eyes are dulled and there's something....broken in them. it's like he's looking right through dick.

"dickie." tim says in soft voice so low dick has to strain to hear it. "you look just like daddy."

tim breathes it so reverently but as soon as the words leave his mouth it's like a puppet with it's stings cut. tim goes limp, blank eyes somehow clouding over like a dead fish's.

to say dick panics would be an understatement. his timmy is hurt somehow even though dick has carefully checked his body, feeling every single one of his little ribs and with each one swearing he will make the one that did this pay. there is nothing dick can do but hold his baby timmy tighter to him. hot, vengeful tears burn trails down dick's cheeks and he holds back so much of his anger in favor of being able to gently touch his timmy. his timmy is in his arms now, his timmy is safe with him now and dick will make sure nothing ever happens to him again. dick will never let anyone take his timmy from him ever again.

bruce of course freaks out because dick has clearly gone completely crazy and taken tim with him. they've retreated to a little crawlspace dick used to go into when he first moved to the manor, he'd spend hours inside before coming out for the bathroom or food. those first few months with dick had been terrible. bruce had never had to care for a traumatized child but after they caught zucco dick had waited for days beside the phone, waiting for any news about tim. until it became clear none was coming and that's when....IT started. the fits of violence, the screaming, the crying, the hiding away.

it's like dick became a completely different person. he ended up accidentally cutting alfred with a shard of glass once and bruce had needed to hold him down. bruce had tried asking child psychologists, doctos who specialized in child development. they'd all wanted to get dick committed or put on medications and so bruce had stopped asking them. bruce knew grief, he knew it well. he knew there was a howling beast in dick's chest that was sobbing for that innocent baby that had been stolen away. so bruce hadn't held it against him. and eventually...dick started getting better. he didn't remember those first few months, all those instances of violence and self harm when he'd bang his head against the wall before bruce could stop him were evaporated from his memory and bruce didn't know if that was a blessing or a curse.

that flash....that glimpse of...something else that had crossed dick's expression just before he attacked was something that bruce only saw in his nightmares.

bruce doesn't know why dick took tim. what inspired such a violently animalist streak in him that bruce had only ever seen one other time in dick when he-

....

bruce is a detective. he gets all the facts and he gets the truth no matter how much it hurts. bruce's mind is not flawless and it's not perfect and sometimes it takes him awhile to put things together.

but everything starts fitting together so rapidly.

that day, that first day tim had come into their lives. when he told them that he'd been present on the day of the flying grayson's murder, that he'd been in the crowd with his parents....

this doesn't mean that the drakes, a family of significant wealth in gotham...kidnapped a child in broad view of strangers. the risk associated with such a move, the uncertainty of success....

what if tim had screamed? what if someone had seen?

it doesn't make sense. a family like the drakes don't lack resources. if they'd wanted a child they had so many options. their money gave them so many options it doesn't make sense for them to ...to see a child and then decide to take them.

but don't some of the most mentally disturbed criminals never act in ways that make sense.

and all bruce can do is think.

think about how they could've adopted, used ivf, had a surrogate. if they weren't willing to wait they could've purchased a child as well.

bruce had no proof the drakes were the kidnappers. it's entirely possible a trafficker had seen tim and taken him because the opportunity was there.

but that's not how traffickers function, not good ones at least, not ones that wanted to keep their operation up and running and away from the attention of the police. it pissed bruce off to no end to see on the internet how grossly people would spread lies and fear monger about trafficking. traffickers didn't stalk random people and then put zipties on their windshields or mark their front doors with paint so they can be identified later. kidnapping a person draws unwanted attention. most people don't even realize when they're seeing real trafficking. they think it's only poor neighborhoods but it could be anywhere and it could happen to anyone. but one thing that's certain is that it's almost always someone the victim knows. a friend, a boyfriend, an uncle, a father. somone you trust, somone you're not suspicious of, someone you might even depend on.

traffickers don't just see children walking around by themselves and decide to take them.

so it was the drakes. the drakes stole a child.

tim's thin medical file, his strange birth certificate from florida a state notoriously difficult to extract copies of documentation from, a state that hasn't yet digitized it's state clerical office and records so bruce can't just pull up the documents.

bruce knows that dick is unstable at mentions of his little brother. he's seen the aftermath of the breakdowns of how he'll become recluse at particularly brutal cases involving children. he knows that dick on some level hates him for security measures he instilled to protect him like getting his blood enchanted so enemy magic users won't be able to track him down if they ever get dick to bleed or get a lock of his hair. they were measures that protected dick but ultimately assassinated his changes of finding tim through their biological connection.

bruce knows dick's regrets, he's tried so hard to make dick not feel the pain of losing his last family member. bruce worked tirelessly those first few months because a little boy couldn't just disappear. but he had.

sometimes bruce wondered if the never-ending pain of wondering what happened to your loved one was worse than having them die. at least if they died you'd have the closure of knowing what happened to them. the uncertainty of his brother's fate tormented dick every day of his life.

and now they'd reached the climax of that lifetime of pain.

bruce hissed as carefully irrigated the wound where dick had bitten a chunk out of his forearm. he was going to need serious antibiotics for this. dick was somewhere in the manor and bruce was near certain he wouldn't hurt tim but at the same time...there was no telling what he'd do in his current state and tim was already so fragile as it was.

bruce needed to find out what had been done to tim while with the drakes. it'd been slow but bruce had managed to pry tim's birthday out of him.

timothy grayson disappeared when he was 3 years old meaning that at 5, his abduction was still fresh and who knows what had been done to tim in that time.

as a thirteen year old tim was better adjusted. he was smart and social and he didn't appear to have any clear indications of past trauma. but clearly bruce had missed something.

he'd missed something big.

he'd already dropped the ball but he couldn't again. he needed to make sure he did everything right this time. no more mistakes.

when it comes to the drakes being alive i do think that dick is fighting within himself to go after them. he knows where they are, they send tim, his baby brother, the baby they STOLE post cards of their approximate location. dick had been nice to zucco when taking him in but he was not going to be nice to the drakes- not after he sees how they've tortured his baby timmy for years.

but he also doesn't want to leave tim to go after them. and bruce knows that and for dick's sake and not the drakes, bruce is hurrying to put the case together to have them arrested and put away before dick can find away to care for tim and hunt them. dick isn't going to take tim with him to take down the drakes, not when he knows how panicked and distressed his baby brother becomes at the thought of them. but spending more time with tim only makes his hatred grow. when tim is lucid he cries about how he thought dick was dead- how THEY had told him they'd all died and tim was alone now.

tim had tried running back to the circus but he was always too slow and they caught him. they showed him posters and newspaper articles about haly's circus in other cities and told tim that they left him behind that they didn't want him anymore.

each word and confession just fuels the rage and hatred in dick's heart.

dick has spent his entire life fearing the worst and now the worst has faces and names. and although tim never says it, dick thinks the worst of them. they're murders, pedophiles, kidnappers- every horrible fate, every moment dick lay awake thinking of his timmy, he's going to pay the drakes back for every single second.

bruce gets to the drakes before dick can. but dick's hatred for them never goes away. even the barest mention of their names has him near snarling so people know not to bring it up.

tim is still a baby and bruce can't even imagine what tim will feel getting turned back to normal and learning what has transpired. dick is so possessive of tim, he won't even let clark get near tim.

but bruce can't blame him. if someone had brought jason back to him all those months ago he would've held him and never let go.

but even though these two brothers have been reunited a decade after they were tragically torn apart, it all still carries the heavy air of devastation.

tim will be back to normal eventually and when he is how will both of them cope to the changes in their lives?

bruce wishes he had an answer. but he didn't. he really didn't.

#anonymous #asks #answered asks

60 notes · View notes

babybluebex · 2 years

Note

is it weird that one of the hottest parts of the video of Joe meeting Metallica to me is that it looks like they gave him in-ear monitors when he was playing and it makes him look an actual proper musician and made me 🥵🥵 at the idea of actual rockstar musician joe

ugh rockstar joe is so special (yes this is a headcanon list deal with it) ((also let's suspend disbelief and say that he's in metallica bc YEAH THAT'S HOT))

rockstar!joe is one of those rockstars that doesn't look the part

like he doesn't have tattoos or piercings, he just looks like Some Guy

like if you passed him on the street, you'd never know that his band headlined lollapalooza lmao

"sorry to this man but idk who he is" type energy

he's one of the guitarists ofc

he's always noodling away on his guitar

if he has it in his hands, he's playing something, even if he's just playing random chords

holds his pick between his lips when he needs to do something with both hands

at home, he's always got jazz music playing

he's not an elitist at all, but he's definitely studied the history of rock and roll and where the roots of his music style come from, and he appreciates jazz music

always has it playing in the house and he'll like sing the guitar part he would put it

he does that a lot

listening to a song on the radio and he goes "i'd put in a guitar line here, it would go like this" and sings it

now's a good time to say that he's a good singer

he's a little anxious about it, though, so he doesn't sing at concerts, stays pretty away from the mic

he only sings with you, when you're in the car or at home

he'll put on good music and dance with you and sing with you

he writes songs about you but he doesn't show them to anyone bc he doesn't think they'll work as like heavy metal/metallica songs

at home, he has a special room that has all of his guitars and amps and everything, and he spends a lot of time there working

sometimes he'll spend all day in his special little studio room, only coming out for dinner

"good day?' you ask and he nods "what did you work on?" "oh, you know, just working on some songs"

going to his concerts and they're stadium shows, and he likes having you by his side as much as possible

getting a VIP pass and hanging in the green room with joe and everyone in the band

james hetfield is 100% totally obsessed with you, loves calling you "the missus" even though you and joe aren't married

getting to stand offstage and watch soundcheck and joe keeps flashing silly faces at you

you make heart hands at him and you can see his grin and blush all the way from the wings

during concerts, joe performs pretty much like eddie, stanced up, headbanging his curls around as he focuses on playing

he's always losing picks bc he'll toss them into the crowd after like EVERY song

he gets special things printed on his picks like his initials or whatever and signs a bunch bc he KNOWS he's gonna be tossing them into the crowd

after shows, he is DRAINED and all sweaty and collapses into you all jokingly "hold me, i'm gonna pass out" but he's fine

but after show sex… oh my god

his adrenaline is high and he’s getting you in the hotel bed as quick as possible

he’ll be a little feral when fucking you after a concert, nipping at your neck as he ruts into you

can’t even undress all the way type fuck

but once he’s made sure you’ve cum like 3 times, he’s kissing you all sweet and telling you stories about what happened during the concert

“james was telling jokes over the monitors the entire time, did you see me laughing? i feel like you could see me laughing”

“i fucked up during master of puppets, my fingers just stopped working and i completely forgot it”

“i almost tripped at one point, did you see it?”

he’s just so excited to tell you all about it

golden retriever rockstar

yeah that’s all i’ve got rn

#bex answers #anon ask #bex’s drabbles #joseph quinn rpf #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn #*my writing

344 notes · View notes

thekittytat · 2 years

Text

You Don’t Own Me

Filthy One Shot

Dom!Drug-Dealer Eddie Munson x Popular Fem Reader

Eddie sitting so smug and official on his throne makes me feral so I had to turn it into something

Summary: You go looking for Eddie Munson after school to score some more party favors and find him alone in the theater department after one of his DnD campaigns. But it’s not the drugs you’re addicted to.

Warnings: Lots of smut 18+ Dom Drug Dealer Eddie x Popular Fem Reader. Drug deal, refrences to hard drugs, unprotected p in v sex, light bondage, cheating, blackmail (it's vague), oral (m recieving), creampie (I fn hate that word but what’re you gonna do), Eddie is actually a sweetheart, derogatory names, pet names, vulgar language. Pet play kink, exhibitionism kink, size kink, praising kink, breeding if you squint. Soft sweetheart in the streets, mean dom in the sheets. May be a bit descriptive of the dick and cum scenes. #so be warned it might be gross.

Song Inspiration: ‘You Don’t Own Me’ by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts

Word Count-3.1k

Your first time meeting Drug Dealer Eddie here

“Hey, Babydoll. Been wondering when you’d show up again,” the long haired metal head leaned back in the high backed throne that was kept in the prop room of the school's theater department. The Dungeons and Dragons after school group, The Hellfire Club, used the room for their weekly meetings, and their leader had made it a point to drag what he called ‘The Master’s Throne’ to the head of the game table. As the club's appointed Dungeon Master, what he says goes, otherwise your character might not make it through to the end of the campaign. On nights after the campaigns, he sometimes holds open ‘office hours’ for drug deals to those students in the know, since the theater teacher never actually stays after school when she loans the room to the club.

“Hi, Eddie,” you greeted him sheepishly. He merely sat back with his elbows propped up on the arms of the throne, his hands clasped together as he looked you up and down. You shuffled your feet nervously as you stopped at the door, letting it swing shut behind you. Fuck, you shouldn’t be here. After the first time you had bought—or rather, traded for—drugs, your boyfriend had been growing more suspicious of your elusive behavior. He had almost suspected something when you went to his house right after your encounter with Eddie that day and he had felt how much more wet you seemed when you started fooling around. Your blood had run cold as you hoped beyond hope that he just thought it was only your fluids he was feeling, and you swore to yourself that you’d start being good. But, here you were again, facing your hot drug dealer in his private quarters.

“Well, step over here and have a seat, sweetheart,” Eddie gestured to one of the vacated chairs at the edge of the table. Your heels clicked on the linoleum as you made your way towards him, hoping it wasn't obvious that you had chosen those shoes for a reason. And your skirt. And your little pink leather choker. He watched as you sank down into the chair beside him before reaching down to pull out his metal lunchbox from beside the throne. “So what can I do for you today?”

“I’m…I'm here to get some party favors. For a, um…y'know, a-a party,” you blushed at how flustered he made you, but he just smiled warmly as he waited for you to finish.

“Sure, hon. Anything in particular?” Eddie flipped open the top of the lunchbox with a crash, eyeing the contents.

“Um…I was wondering if you had any…coke,” you said softly, not daring to look him in the eyes. You felt his stare boring into you as you fidgeted with the hem of your skirt.

“I do. But, I don't sell blow to teenagers, sweetheart. Gotta have a moral line somewhere, right?” he grinned, tilting his head down to enter your line of sight. Your eyes lifted to meet his and he was regarding you with an almost parental expression.

“Oh, um…okay. I’m sorry,” you blinked and looked away again.

“Don’t be sorry, love. Tell you what, I’ll give you a bulk discount on some bud and uh…I’ll sell you some coke when you’re older. How’s that sound?” Eddie offered, his eyes fixed on your blushing face. You looked back up at him and nodded, returning his smile. He fished through his lunchbox and pulled out a sandwich bag of the green plant, the odor almost instantaneously hitting your nostrils as he dropped it on the table. He shifted in his seat to lean on the arm of the throne, looking from the weed to you.

“Now, how will you be paying today, angel? Cash or cunt?” Eddie asked tauntingly as he fixed you with a devious expression, his kind playfulness melting away. His question caught you off guard, causing you to stare at him like a deer in headlights before having to shift in your seat to clench your thighs together. He picked up on your tension and moved to rise from his throne, slamming his palms down on the arms and pushing himself up before walking around to stand behind you. He placed his rough hands on your shoulders, rubbing them gently before sliding them down your chest and stopping just before the neckline of your shirt. You shivered at the coldness of his rings on your bare skin as he bent down to where his lips just barely grazed your ear.

“If this is what you want, all you gotta do is say yes,” he whispered, earning an eager nod from you. “No, doll. See, I need you to use your words.”

“Y-Yes, Eddie. Please…fuck me,” you breathed, and in one swift movement, he had spun your chair around with surprising ease to face him. He guided you out of your seat with his hand around your jaw, leading you into a passionate kiss before walking you back to the edge of the table. He lifted you up by the backs of your thighs and set you down on the table top, positioning himself between your legs. Your hands immediately sought out his belt buckle and began undoing it as he broke away from the kiss to lift his shirt up over his head.

Eddie groaned into your lips when he returned to them as you had slipped your hand into his jeans to feel his growing erection through his boxers. He tugged at the bottom of your shirt, pushing it just over the top of your breasts where you had opted out of wearing a bra. He pulled back to stare down at your tits with his tongue between his teeth in an expression of pure lust. Your chest heaved with your heavy panting and Eddie couldn’t resist craning down to place his lips over your soft skin between your breasts. His tongue danced across your sternum, coming to a stop at the peak of your sensitive nipple and pulling it into his mouth.

You inhaled sharply as his hands squeezed your thighs, while his lips kissed from your chest to your neck. His teeth grazed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine and ending between your legs. Your knees clenched his hips while he worked on your neck, and you couldn’t stop your fingers from diving into his boxers and freeing his eager cock. His hips rutted into your hand at the contact, and his grip on your thighs tightened. You ran your delicate hand over his soft length, reveling in the intensity of his firmness, before giving him a few slow but deliberate pumps. Eddie bit down on the side if your neck sharply as you stroked him, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips.

He thrust into your fist like an over excited puppy, leaving your hand slippery with his slick, and you cheekily added more pressure to the increased lubrication. He breathed deeply into your sweet blonde hair, eyes seeing stars as he fucked into your hand. His hands on your thighs moved inward between your legs, his thumbs coming to rest on either side of your soaked panties. With his fingers he slowly pulled down the hem of your lacy pink undergarment, politely coming to a rest at the base of your ass to ask permission to slip them the rest of the way down.

After he had thrown them onto the floor, he reached up to grasp his slick shaft, pumping himself a few time before lining himself up with your now exposed cunt. He didn’t waste any time letting you get adjusted to his size before pushing all the way in on one stroke. Your head fell back in blinding pleasure as he immediately began his harsh assault. Fuuuuck the way he just goes for it is so hot. Eddie looked down at the cute collar around your neck, smirking as he curled one finger underneath it to bring your lips to his.

“Did you wear this pretty pink thing for me, kitten?” Eddie cooed. You blinked up at him through your eyelashes, giving him the most adorably naughty expression you could muster. He grinned wickedly, licking his lips before abruptly pulling out his entire length and leaving you feeling empty. With one hand holding onto his belt, he reached his other hand on a shelf behind him, coming back to hook a dog’s leash onto your collar. Eddie could just picture you wagging an invisible tail as he leashed you, with your expression that of a hungry animal. He wrapped his fist with the end of the leash and tugged hard on your collar, guiding you down off the now slick table and onto your feet.

“Then get on your knees, pretty girl,” he growled as he directed you to kneel in front of him. You sat on your knees, face to face with his dripping tip. “And open your mouth.”

You did as you were told, with your tongue unfurling to allow him easy passage while Eddie reached in his back pocket to pull out his black bandana. He folded it into a blindfold and tied it around your head before pushing himself onto your outstretched tongue, guiding his tip down further into your mouth. Your pouty lips enveloped him as you guided him towards the back of your throat. He pulled back his hips slowly, concentrating hard on not losing control. You took on the task, bobbing your head back and forth while he focused on keeping his rutting to a minimum. Your tongue swirled around his flesh in rhythm to your head movements, causing a pleasured grunt to fall from his lips.

“Oh…that's it…good kitten,” Eddie groaned, his head falling back. His heavily ringed fingers tangled in your hair as you worked him over, bringing a small, manicured hand to grip his shaft just under your mouth and stroking him in sync. “That’s a good girl….fffuck!”

“Mmmmfff…” you whimpered around him in a pleased tone. You were his good girl.

“Hmm…okay kitten, I won’t last very long in that pretty little mouth of yours,” he breathed, pulling out of your dripping lips. He helped pull you to your feet kindly before roughly spinning you to face the table, making you stumble and have to grip the side to steady yourself. “And I reeeally want to pump your cunt full again.”

You stood with your back to him, bent over the D&D table and your soaked cunt on full display. Eddie had the head of his dick forcing its way through your entrance within no time, and he gave you no warm up time before launching right into his demanding pace. He was fucking into you with such an animalistic vigor, you would think he’d be the one who would want to be the pet. You felt like a common bitch just getting railed by one of the local strays, and it likely wouldn't even be your only partner that day. He held a fistful of your leash with one hand, while the other held a firm grip on your hip as he aimed your hips up onto him. It was a good thing you wore your high heels today.

You could never get enough of this primal mating display, 'degrading’ yourself as your dad would put it if he knew. You didn’t care if you even went home with drugs this time. If only you could bottle this moment so you could repeat it anytime you wanted. The light chokehold he had on you with the leash sent intoxicating waves through your head and your only thought was of how perfect his cock felt. He was so warm and firm, and he considerately angled his hips to hit your sweet spot. A complete lack of vision announced your orgasm, and you let it ride until you were squeezing him desperately.

“That's a good girl, kitten. Bein’ such a good slut, right?” Eddie muttered, his eyes half closed as he focused his willpower on controlling his release. You nodded enthusiastically, your blonde ponytail cascading across your shoulder blade. He pumped into you with deep, commanding thrusts that sent you into an overstimulated quiver. He licked his lips at the delicious sensation your trembling walls provided, eyes rolling back with the intense pleasure. Your poor cunt felt so used up already, but you still craved that consistent pounding. He knew he was getting dangerously close, but he was waiting for something.

And almost at that instant, he got what he was waiting for: a shocked and outraged face peering through the doorway of the prop room. Your boyfriend Jake had expressed concerns about where you kept going after school, and someone had hinted that this is where you might be, so he came looking for you to see what was going on. And now he knows. He knows how you’ve been getting taken balls deep by Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson right under his nose. In this very moment he realized that on the days you felt extra lubricated, he was probably actually getting Eddie's sloppy seconds?

Eddie was territorial, even with things that aren’t technically his, and he wanted Jake to see that he didn’t own you anymore. You belonged to Eddie now, and he was going to prove it after a few more euphoric strokes through your soft pussy. Your dumbfounded boyfriend stood paralyzed in the door way watching you get railed by that dirt bag, drug dealing freak. And you didn’t even see him come in with your blindfold, so you were being your absolute honest and unapologetic self. He watched you as you came around Eddie's cock again for—who knows how many times? You were coming undone in a way your boyfriend had never seen, and he was hypnotized.

“Fuck…I’m gonna cum in that pretty pussy, baby. Is that okay?” you nodded eagerly as Eddie rutted into you at a consistently sweet pace, readying himself for release. He sent a cocky stare at Jake, holding eye contact as he claimed you. He angled his pelvis up to fill your cunt to the very back so he could pump deep into your core. After a few more fast and deliberate thrusts, his hips began to stutter. His strokes became shorter and shorter until he buried himself in you, stilling at the hilt as his cock sputtered forward his first few pumps. When he settled deep into you, his thick ropes dumped excessively into your cunt, filling you up to the brim with his seed. Oh, god it shouldn’t feel this good. Eddie maintained steady eye contact with your boyfriend, even with drooped eyelids as he pumped your cunt full of his essence.

“That’s a good, dumb baby, taking my load so well,” Eddie smirked at Jake, his venomous words searing his ears. “Your cute little cunt can take a lot, huh, babydoll?”

At your shuddering whimper and vigorous nod with a helpless ‘Yes, Eddie!,’ your boyfriend came out of his daze, and was suddenly in a blind rage. He furiously flung open the door and stormed out, making you gasp and pull down your bandana.

“Oh, god. Jake!” you called after him, your clenching muscles adding a delectable pressure on Eddie’s sputtering cock and coaxing out a few more pumps. He kept you plugged up until he was sure he was done cumming, before gently pulling out of your sensitive flesh. He took your former blindfold and wiped himself clean before stuffing himself back into his boxers, taking his time in helping you down. Jake had stormed out into the hallway and was headed for the exit.

“Eddie, do something! He’s going to tell the whole school!” you shrieked, pulling your shirt down and climbing off the table. Eddie gazed at you with an amused expression still etched in his face as he zipped up his jeans, leaving his shirt forgotten and his belt unbuckled as he started walking backwards towards the door.

“Don't worry, baby. I’ve got it under control,” he said as he turned and jogged towards the exit, yanking open the door and running down the hallway after Jake. You stood against the table collecting yourself, too shaken up to move as all kinds of scenarios ran through your mind of your well known and respected boyfriend telling the whole school about you being raw-dogged by the school freak at his nerd club. Your musings were interrupted by the sound of Jake’s raised voice as Eddie clearly had caught up with him.

“What the fuck did you just say to me, freak?” he yelled, loud enough for you to hear plainly. You shifted your feet to clamor over to the door to see if you could catch a glimpse of the exchange, but Eddie's voice was too low to make out. You could see him facing away from you in a non-confrontational stance as he reasoned with your understandably furious boyfriend, and Eddie's fucked-out look of no shirt and unbuckled belt wasn’t helping his anger. You inched closer when you saw Jake’s expression suddenly go from murderous to fearful and wondered what the hell Eddie had said to him. It wasn't long after that that you saw your boyfriend turn on his heel and slam open the door to exit the school and Eddie turned to walk back to you.

“Eddie! Where is he going? What did you say to him? Is he going to tell anyone?” you were practically jumping up on Eddie like an excited puppy when he re-entered the room.

“Alright, baby, chill down. He won’t be saying a goddamn thing if he knows what's good for him,” he replied proudly, pulling you in to lay a kiss on the top of your head.

“How…? What did you do?” you asked as you gazed up at him with concern.

“Just some good, old-fashioned blackmail, sweetheart. I’ve got dirt on him. We're even,” he said darkly. You gave him a questioning stare when he didn't elaborate, and Eddie responded with a wicked smirk as he gripped the end of the leash still attached to your collar. “Just don’t worry about it right now, love. It's all taken care of. Let’s just say that I now own him, too.”

You couldn’t even begin to fathom what that meant. You just prayed that his dirt was good enough to keep your reputation as a good little girl in tact, all while you could feel Eddie's essence soaking through your panties. It would have to be pretty good dirt considering all of the vile, sinful things you’ve been doing with him in secret.

“Now…about this party. Do they need a drug man?”

182 notes · View notes