#with that loud ass rickety bed

[negrowhat]

Chief Phu better invest in a quieter bed frame...

#can't be blowing tian's back out in the ranger station #with that loud ass rickety bed #ep 10 #atots rewatch

[mediumgayitalian]

The slam of his car door is loud enough to make him jump, echoing across the dipping valleys and proud hills. He curses to himself, standing frozen, one, two, three, four, but no one comes running. A light dusting of snow falls in a perfect circle around an invisible border, and Lee shivers as he jogs over to it, worn sneakers squelching over the wet, half-thawed grass.

As soon as he steps onto the bottom of Half-Blood Hill, he feels the difference, the balmy breath of warm summer under the clear December sky. The power of Thalia’s tree sends its usual shiver down his back, and he touches it, briefly, as he speeds past, sending his usual prayer of thanks. He pauses at the crest of the hill, using the bright gibbous moon to survey the camp, marking his path.

“Two, four….twelve,” he mutters to himself, craning his neck to map every one of the patrol harpies. He crouches for a while, watching them, tracking their patrol: paired, hexagonal, staggered circuits around the cabins. Four minute window of opportunity.

He can do four minutes.

As the two harpies walking the Apollo-Artemis circuit begin to cross the common, Lee bolts. He keeps low and close to the shadows, sprinting fast and on the balls of his feet to stay quiet, and ducks behind whatever shadow is closest whenever something looks his way. By the time the harpies turn back towards Cabin Seven, he’s already on the rickety porch, tossing his backpack inside the window Michael left open for him and throwing himself in after it.

He lands palms-first, tucking into a roll to absorb the momentum. He freezes, panting, by the leg of what is usually Amir’s bed, straining to hear past the crickets and cicadas.

One, two, three, four.

Nothing.

He’s good.

“Took your damn sweet time, didn’t you.”

“Hello to you too,” Lee grumbles, pushing himself upright. From across the cabin, lounging on his bed like a goddamn French monarch, is his dick of a brother, grinning like the little shit he is. “Haven’t seen you in weeks, most people say hello, et cetera, et cetera.”

Michael shrugs. “You’re late. I watched you on the hill; you coulda made that run twenty minutes ago.”

“Nobody asked you.”

“I’m always asking me.”

“Get over her, boogerbrain.”

“Real mature,” Michael mocks, but ambles over anyway. He retches like a twelve year old when Lee hugs him, but twists his hands in the back of Lee’s shirt when he lets go too fast. Lee hides his smile in his over-gelled hair.

“You might miss me less if you actually write me letters, you know.”

“I didn’t miss you,” he responds automatically. “And I wouldn’t have to write you letters if you stayed home, already.”

Lee sighs. “…I have school, Michael.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m sure your dumbass bio teachers have loads to teach the guy who can do open heart surgery with his eyes closed.”

“Yeah, yeah. If anyone could do with a good, old-fashioned, public school humbling, it would be you, hothead. You ready to go?”

Michael pulls away with a roll of his eyes. “Only since yesterday. Been waiting for your sorry ass.”

“My sorry — your sorry ass doesn’t have a car!”

Michael snickers, jogging back to his bunk and grabbing the black duffel bag resting under it. Lee makes quick work of packing his own bag, stuffing in a couple squares of ambrosia and and giant roll of bandages, just in case, before creeping over to the only bed left with someone still in it.

“Hey, kiddo.” He folds over the sheet pulled all the way over messy blonde curls, immediately plaguing the cabin with loud snoring. He rests his palm over a sleep-creased cheek, mapping his thumb over the freckles dotting pudgy cheekbones, and brushes back the hair plastered to his baby brother’s forehead. “Will, sweetheart, get up.”

It takes him a couple minutes of gentle prodding — when Will is out he is out — to wake up, squinting blearily in the dim fairy lights strewn across his bunk. He blinks, one, two, three, four, then gasps.

“Lee!”

“Oof,” Lee grunts, shifting his weight as he is abruptly accosted with an armful of child. He smiles, curling around Will’s flailing, chattering form, tightening his hold on his waist and resting his forehead on his shoulder. “Hi, buddy.”

“—missed you so much! Is this why your letter was late? Are you staying? Is this why Diana left yesterday? Is she here now? Is Cass coming? Is everybody coming? Can I —”

“C’mon, Motormouth,” Michael interrupts, cuffing Will’s ear as he walks by. “Go get your sneakers on. We’re going for a drive.”

“‘Kay,” Will days happily, dashing off to find the light-up Star Wars shoes he refuses to throw out, even though there are literal holes in the soles.

“You got his bag?”

“Yep,” Michael affirms, holding up a straining backpack. “Toothbrush. Hairbrush that he won’t use. Three comic books. Change of clothes. And two more changes of clothes for when he inevitably destroys the first one,” he adds when Lee opens his mouth. He shoots him an exasperated look. “Me and Diana have been chasing after the little brat for four months, dude. I got him.”

“Alright, alright,” Lee grumbles. “Heaven forbid I double-check.” He turns over to the door, where Will is tying his shoelaces, tongue peeking out of his mouth. “You ready, Will?”

He tugs on the two loops. The entire knot unravels. Quick as a flash, he stuffs the laces inside his shoes, scrambling to his feet.

“Yes,” he lies. He scratches at his throat.

Lee and Michel sigh in unison.

Luckily, the reaction is hardly more than itchy eyes and a cough. Lee herds him towards the door, sliding the backpack over his shoulders and holding out his arm and —

“Hold on a sec.”

“Why?” Will whispers.

“Shh,” Lee says.

Window cracked open, Michael exhales. The release of his bow hardly makes more than a soft hiss.

The angle is odd, limited space as there is, but Michael never misses — the clunky arrow whistles through the open window, sailing past the sloped roofs of the west wing cabins, and thunks somewhere behind the first layer of trees in the forest. Immediately, it lets loose a burst of sound identical to a dropped bottle and a group of teenagers cursing. In seconds, the curfew harpies are screeching, descending upon the source of the noise with the fury of a thousand sun chariots.

“Go go go go go,” Michael orders, wrenching open the door.

Will, immediately, takes off, gleeful at the opportunity to run away with permission (usually, he’s running from one of them, screeching at him to get back here). (Or Chiron, although Chiron has a much easier time catching up, what with the six limbs and all). (…Is Chiron an insect? Technically?)

“How long do we have?” Lee whispers, once Michael has caught up.

He shrugs. “Seven minutes, give or take? More than enough time.”

Lee worries his bottom lip. “More than…” He glances at the forest. Vaguely, in the low firelight, he can see the odd wing, hear the odd screech. Nothing looks very close. He glances at the rapidly approaching Athena cabin, just a few yards out of their way. Hm.

“Detour!” he decides. “Will, c’mon!”

Ignoring Michael’s hissed complaints, he veers towards to neatly maintained cabin. He slips in the space between Cabins Six and Four, holding tight to Will’s hand. He counts the windows as he passes — one, two, three, four — and stumbles to a stop, crouching down in the dirt.

“Oh, are you — for the love of Zeus.”

Lee ignores his eye-rolling, scanning the ground for pebbles. He selects a handful of them, careful not to choose anything too big, and jogs a few steps back.

“What’re you doing?” Will asks, too loud, but at least he tries to whisper.

Instead of answering, Lee launches the first pebble at the window.

It pings off harmlessly.

Waiting a breath for the harpies to come running, he continues, firing off pebble after pebble with increasing strength. Finally, after pebble #7, a face appears behind the clear glass, bleary eyes widening when they take in the sight in front of them. Quickly, the latches are undone, and the window is yanked open.

“Lee?!”

Lee grins. “Hey, Carter.”

“What’re you — you’re — it’s December! What’s going —”

“I need a favour,” Lee whispers. “Can you — cover for us?”

For the first time, Carter looks away, brows raising as he notices Micheal, who taps his (watchless) wrist obnoxiously, and Will, who waves brightly. Carter waves back, small smile tugging at his lips.

“Cover for you?”

“Just, like, infirmary stuff. I don’t think anything will happen, and if it does we’re an IM away, but —”

“Lee,” Carter says exasperatedly, “cover you guys for what?”

“Oh.” Lee clears his throat. “I, um. I need to do something for my family.”

Smiling, Carter rests his elbows on the windowsill, chin in his hands. “Mysterious.”

“We’ll be back by tomorrow evening,” Lee assures.

“And then you’ll stay for a bit?”

Lee’s mouth goes dry. “You want me to stay?”

Carter ducks his head, fingers tracing a mindless path on the windowsill. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you for a while.”

A thousand gods of prophecy could not predict the sound that comes out of Lee’s throat.

Something between a whimper and an awkward laugh, his voice cracks four seperate times. Carter giggles. Lee prays, genuinely, that a crater opens up beneath him and drops him right at Lord Hades’ feet.

“Everything okay, Lee?”

“Peachy,” he croaks.

Carter giggles again. Lee flushes. Michael gags exaggeratedly behind him, pausing mid-heave to whisper something to Will, and then there’s a giggle, and then two people fake-retching. Carter peeks through his dark eyelashes, pleased expression softening his heart-shaped face, and Lee counts twelve of his own capillaries straight-up explode.

“Well,” he says, too loudly. “I’m — well.”

“I think you have harpies to run from,” Carter suggests gently.

“Indeed.” Lee clears his throat, nodding. “As you have so astutely observed, we do —”

Michael, recognising the strained tone to his voice, groans. “Fucksake, Lee —”

“— and so I bid you adieu —”

“Dude, oh my gods, snap out of it —”

Lee can’t. He barely has control over his own mouth.

“— and vow to see you again in the eve.”

Feeling his soul exit his body, settle in front of him, and then crumple up and die, Lee fucking bows. There is the very distinctive sound of a hand slapping over a mouth, muffling an eruption of giggles, and then the hand of mercy, also known as Michael Yew, clamping on the back of his lava-hot neck.

“Please excuse him,” he says grandly. “He was dropped on his head as a child. He’s normal, usually.”

“Except when you wear your glasses,” Will pipes up. Lee makes a mental note to find Clarisse’s spear and shove it through his own eye. “He gets real weird when you wear your glasses. Once he walked into a wall and broke his nose.”

“…Did he.”

“Yep. And last time he —”

“God, this hurts me to say,” whispers Michael, “but I have to put a stop to this conversation. We’re on a time limit. C’mon, Will. Bye, Carter. Sorry for — well, you know. Apollonian dramatics, not always easy to control.”

He turns, dragging Lee, still hunched over, out of the Cabin Six shadow.

Lee does not un-hunch until they are well over the crest of Half-Blood Hill, harpy screeches beginning to echo behind them.

“I have never been more embarrassed to be related to you in my life,” Michael informs him, the second he’s upright. “Like, genuinely, I’m considering disowning you. That was atrocious, Fletcher. You need to get ahold of yourself. Where is your game? Your dignity?”

“I think he lost it when he was born,” Will says thoughtfully. “Or maybe when Carter smiled at him the first time.”

“I hate both of you,” Lee croaks.

Neither of them seem too incredibly bothered, snickering to each other as they duck into the car.

Willing his flush to go down, Lee herds them into his car. He takes a moment in the cool air to chill the hell out, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, then slips behind the wheel. He checks that Will is belted in properly, slips the car into neutral, and coasts down the road, waiting until Thalia’s tree slips out of sight before turning it on and hitting the gas.

“Where’re we goin’?

“You,” Michael says, flipping down the vanity mirror to glare sternly at Will, “are going to dreamland. It’s three in the morning. Time for bratty children to sleep.”

“What? No! I’m not tired!”

“Fine, fine,” Lee says, exchanging a grin with Michael. “Stay awake, then. As long as you like.”

Will narrows his eyes. “Really?”

“Yep.”

“No trick?”

Lee crosses his fingers. “‘Course not.”

“Fine,” he relents. He settles into the booster seat Lee dragged out of the trunk for him (which he hates), arms crossed over his chest, and stares out the window.

Counting off on his fingers — one, two, three, four — Lee and Michael begin to hum.

At first, nothing happens. Will taps absentmindedly on his knees, humming along to the parts he knows, but soon his fingers slow. Lee and Michael keep it low and quiet, cycling through quiet folk songs Michael’s dad taught him, matching with the rumbling of the car, the slight breeze of Lee’s cracked open window. Michael kicks softly at the base of his seat, one, two, three, four; and matches the rhythm of the radio static, the click of the blinkers on every turn.

Will’s out in twenty minutes.

———

The drive is long.

Michael curls up sometime around four, fogging up the windows with every snore. Lee keeps the radio on a low hum, letting the background noise keep him focused as he navigates. The Atlantic Ocean is ink-black in the early morning, and the waves crash loud enough that he can hear them over the sounds of the engine, and for a while they’re still far enough from the city that the air smells fresh. Even when it starts to sour, and the noise gets a lot more urban, it’s early enough and he’s east enough that the traffic is minimal. Never non-existent — he actually cannot imagine what a traffic-less New York would look like; he doubts he’ll ever live to see it — but enough that he keeps at a steady 35.

The drive through Jersey is uneventful. Farmland and suburbs, nothing he hasn’t seen every day of his life, nothing he didn’t see the last time he made the drive. He entertains himself by counting every brown car he sees, randomly wagering the number by the time he gets there. He’s relieved when he finally crosses the memorial bridge, driving down the exit ramp and pulling into the first big parking lot he sees. Michael wakes up as he puts the car in gear, killing the engine.

“We here?” he asks, popping the joints along his spine.

Lee yawns. “Pretty much, yeah. Pulled off the highway.”

“‘Kay.” He glances in the backseat, where Will is starting to stir. “You nap. I’m gonna find a place for him to change and brush his teeth, maybe get breakfast for all of us.”

“Sounds good”

He crawls in the backseat as Michael guides Will out of it, accepting the blanket tossed his way. He slides his hoodie over his face, lies back, and conks out in minutes.

———

“Yo, Lee. Get up. I got food.”

“Timizzit?” he asks, shaking the grogginess from his limbs.

“Eleven. You slept for four hours. We gotta be at the theatre in an hour.”

“When’s she on?”

“Fuck if I know, man. Diana said noon, I’m gonna be there at noon. You wanna piss off Diana?”

“No.” He rubs the heel of his palm into his eyes, reaching blindly in the direction of Michael’s voice. “Food, please.”

A bag of grease is deposited into his waiting hand. He is pleased to find three cheeseburgers within it, and immediately tears into them with a fervour that can only be described as ‘ravenous’, or perhaps ‘revolting’. Esurient, perhaps, if one was feeling poetic.

Finally awake enough to function, Lee looks critically at the scene in front of him. Michael is dressed in the same button-up and slacks he wears to his dad’s performances, on the years he’s in the U.S., and Will is in jeans without grass stains, real shoes, hair mostly brushed. Michael has even managed to find a shirt that’s not half-unraveled from Will picking at the seams.

“Nice,” he says, nodding in approval.

Michael picks at his nails, visibly preening. “Oh, it was no big deal.”

“Yeah, yeah. Dweeb.”

He polishes off his last burger, then ducks inside the nearest store to find somewhere to get changed. Diana told them it didn’t matter, really, what they wore, but Lee knows better. He knows what this means for Cass, and while yeah, sure, it wouldn’t really matter if he showed up in sweatpants, he wants to show her that he put in the effort. That even if her mother couldn’t, or wouldn’t, they will. All of them. He wants her to see them and know that they did this for her. He wants her to see them and know that they tried, that they care.

Hair perfectly placed and clothes as unwrinkled as he can get them, he hurries back to the car. The theatre isn’t far, and they have a little under an hour, but he doesn’t want to push it. Finding parking will be hard enough.

“Are we on a quest?” Will asks, five minutes out on the road.

“Eight year olds don’t go on quests.”

“Diomedes was ten when he fought the Trojan war.”

“Are you Diomedes?”

“No.”

“Are you ten?”

“No.”

“Then no quests for you.”

“Aw.”

“Your quest can be being quiet for twenty minutes,” Michael grumbles, making a face when Will sticks his tongue out at him.

———

part two

#writint michael was SO FUN and also a bit of a challenge bc he is a bitch #god i love him #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #lee fletcher #michael yew #will solace #cabin seven #cabin seven kids #lee fletcher & will solace #michael yew & will solace #lee fletcher & michael yew #my writing #fic #longpost

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Morning Voice｡⋆.

König x plus size reader

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x plus size reader

Just imagine their morning voices

Warnings: Lou is thirsty again, implied smut, secret relationship, mutual pinning, injuries, fluff, little angst, itty bitty bit of smut, might be ooc König, mention of stitches

WC: 970

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

König

It was the voices that woke you up. They were muffled behind the door to your private room but just loud enough to rouse you from a surprisingly restful sleep. You blinked your eyes open but the warmth that surrounded you and the heavy weight across your soft stomach urged you back to sleep.

Just as your eyelids fluttered shut once more, a thought occurred to you. You shuffled backwards just slightly and your ass came into contact with something hard and teasingly hot. There came a deep groan from above your head and the weight around your stomach tightened, drawing you even further back into them.

“Stop moving, liebling.” (darling) His voice rumbled through you like an earthquake, shaking you down to your core. It was breathy but not weak, no, you could hear its power waiting just below the surface. The German rolled off his tongue in a way that made your eyes roll back into your head.

“König.” You whimpered. “You have to go, they’ll find out.” But you made no effort to pull away from his protective hold, in fact you snuggled back into the colonel, putting your right hand on top of his own much larger one. 

He laughed softly into your hair before planting a kiss to the crown of your head. “I think you would rather me stay spatzi.” (little sparrow) Long fingers danced down your plump stomach, drawing closer and closer to your core. “I think you need me right here.” 

You gasped as he finally cupped your mound, the butt of his hand brushing against your overworked clit. “König.” You bit your lip, trying to keep your voice down.

“That seems to be all you can say this morning.” He teased and rolled his hips into your ass, forcing his hardening length between her cheeks. “How about I make you scream it?”

Ghost

The words on the report in front of you had stopped making sense about 2 paragraphs ago but you continued your attempt at reading the action report just to distract from the sight only a few feet away from you. The room was silent save for the quiet beeping of the heart monitor and the almost deafening sound of your own breathing.

With a groan, you threw the folder of papers onto your cluttered desk and looked back up to the bed in front of you. 

He was only wearing a tight black shirt and tan cargo pants but you had insisted that the old skull balaclava remain firmly on his head. His wide chest rose and fell consistently, giving you peace of mind even as your hands still burned from stitching up so much of his body and the smell of blood still overpowered that hospital smell you had grown so used to.

He looked so small laying on the infirmary cot, his normally overwhelming presence now dwindling down to an ember and it broke your heart. Not because you were in love with the man! You cared out of professional obligation given you were the only doctor for the 141. 

As the clock struck 3 am, you stood up from your desk and approached the bed. You told yourself that you were just going to check his stitches but you never even touched his bandages. Instead you sat on the rickety folding chair that Gaz had found in one of the broom closets. 

Simon’s hand was devastatingly cold as you took it into your own. You cradled his palm, tracing over the various silvery lines of scars with your fingertips. Exhaustion hit you all at once and you couldn’t help but slump over the huge man, your head coming to rest on his thick thigh. “Only for a second,” You muttered, “Just need to rest my eyes.”

His whole body ached as Simon slowly slipped back into consciousness. His mouth was dry and parts of his skin felt stretched to its limits. But as he opened his eyes, all of that faded away. You were dead asleep on his lap, holding his hand as small snores escaped your lips.

He tutted at the huge dark bags beneath your eyes and he vaguely wondered how long you had been awake for. With his other hand, he cupped your head, marvelling at the way that he almost covered your whole head. You grunted softly and nuzzled into his touch.

Simon would love to let you keep sleeping especially since you were using him as a pillow but your neck was at a weird angle and he didn’t imagine that the metal folding chair you were sitting on was particularly comfortable. 

So with a considerable amount of hesitation, he spoke up. “Doc.” His voice was broken and husky, just barely louder than the machines attached to him. Your brows scrunched and you burrowed further into his thigh, clutching his left hand even tighter.

He smiled beneath his balaclava. 

Pain ripped through his body as Simon bent forward. He slipped his hand from your hold carefully in order to slip them both under your armpits. You were a dead weight in his arms, exacerbating the tight stitches on his sides but he still pulled you up easily, laying your soft body down between his legs. 

Your head fell to his shoulder, nose immediately pushing against his throat. “Si?” You asked sleepily, attempting to sit up but a hand on your shoulder and another one on your wide hip prevented you from moving. 

“Go back to sleep doc, I’ll still be hurt in the morning.” Heat crawled up your neck with the deepness of his voice and you found yourself unable to disagree, even though you were probably causing him even more pain. You nodded against his skin and Simon squeezed your hip gently. “That’s my good girl.” He purred.

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[ddejavvu]

Hey Daisy I have a a request for you imagine dating James and you're spending the night at his dormitory and you forgot makeup wipes and you ask Sirius but he says he doesn't have any and you just wiped off your face the best you could but then you hear the rustling/ crinkly sound and you see he has a big pack( I hope this makes sense just cuz like maybe their Frenemies Sirius thinks you "stole"james from him) and they start wrestling for you to get one "let me use one Sirius "and maybe you end up jumping on his back and finally remus gives you one while you're still on siri back

"Sirius?" You pop your head up from where it was resting on James's chest, peering curiously at him as he heads for the bathroom.

"Hm?" He stops short, brows raised.

"Do you have makeup wipes?" You inquire, keeping your voice down so that James doesn't wake. He's been asleep in his bed for almost an hour now, but you can't sleep yourself until your face is clean.

"Uh, sorry," Sirius shifts on his feet, shaking his head, "Don't think so."

"Okay," You nod, "Uh, soap, then? Like, face soap?"

"I've got some," Remus pipes up from across the room, tucked into a chair with a book, "You can use a washcloth from the cabinet."

"Thanks," You grin appreciatively at him, settling back down against James's sleeping form and letting Sirius do his nightly routine before you start yours.

It's only seconds later that you hear the familiar rrip of suctioned plastic opening, then the crinkling of a package of...

Makeup wipes. You crane your neck to peer into the bathroom where Sirius is trying his hardest to conceal the loud packaging, and failing misterably.

"Hey," You hiss, clamoring off of James's bed, "That's a full pack! Were you lying to me?"

Sirius huffs, "Yes, didn't think you'd notice with your head shoved in m'best friend's tits."

You narrow your eyes, and Sirius knows he's been caught. He busies himself removing his eyeliner, and you stalk into the bathroom.

"You're jealous," You realize, an accusatory finger pointed in Sirius's direction, "You think I stole your best friend!"

"And now you're trying to steal my makeup wipes," Sirius sneers at you in the mirror, one hand protectively over the package, "Hey, maybe James'll let you use one of his old sweaty gym shirts to take your makeup off! Gives you practically all his other clothes."

"Pathetic," Remus calls from his chair, and James's lashes begin to flutter sleepily, "Really, Pads, this is a new low."

"What is?" Your boyfriend speaks through a yawn, and you wish you were still cuddled up to him so that you could lean into it and release an echo-y kiss into his open mouth. It always makes him dissolve into giggles.

"My boyfriend is jealous of your girlfriend," Remus informs James, peering over top of his book, "He's trying to hoard the beauty supplies."

"Hey!" James props himself up on his elbow, neck craned to see the bathroom, "Bad Padfoot! You're a big boy, sharing is caring."

"She doesn't share you much," Sirius holds the package of wipes above his head, making you reach for them, "Does she?"

"For your information, I stick to her like glue." James boasts, arching his back off of the bed while he stretches, "It's my choice, not hers. The only way you'll get me is if you stick to her, too."

"Fine." Sirius huffs, pushing the package of makeup wipes into your chest and storming to James's rickety twin bed, "You've forced my hand, Y/N! I have no other choice!"

And with that, he's gone in a flash, morphed into a big, shaggy, black dog.

Padfoot settles in the spot you'd previously occupied. He leans against James's side, and the man rolls his eyes fondly at the dog, scratching between his ears while he waits for you to finish in the bathroom. The second you start for the bed again, James shoves Padfoot to the end of the bed, ignoring his indignant yelp.

"Sorry, Pads." James laments, welcoming you with open arms as you crawl into bed beside him, "Her ass is way better to feel up than yours."

"Speak for yourself," Remus drawls, and quick as a flash, Sirius has decided he'd rather dogpile on his boyfriend, "No offense, Y/N."

"None taken," You sigh happily into James's chest, stifling a smile when the man's large hands find your ass just like he'd bragged about, "Take him to the pound, dog catcher."

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #james potter one shot #james potter one-shot #james potter headcanon #james potter headcanons #james potter hc #james potter hcs #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter dialogue #james potter fluff #james potter x reader fanfiction

[usedtobecooler]

i need you to write about pegging eddie i’m not above begging bestie

you don’t have to beg cause i’m already there lmao

Pairing | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), pegging, anal m receiving, handcuff use, coming untouched, orgasm denial, face sitting, oral f receiving, dirty talk, sexy lingerie.

Word Count | 1.5K

A/N | this is super short and all smut zero plot, enjoy!!! 🤍

“Tell me how much you like my big cock fucking you,” You grunt, fucking your hips forward and sliding your silicone cock right back into Eddie’s fucked out, puffy hole, “Maybe if you’re all sweet I’ll let you come.”

Eddie’s whining and crying beneath you, hands up above his head, bound with his own cuffs to the headboard. They clink as he wrestles with them, “Baby please, lemme come, I’m begging,”

“Gotta do better than that, babe,” You smirk down at him, shoving your hips forward just a little so that the dildo nudges that little bit deeper, head clearly pressed tightly against Eddie’s spot because he’s mewling, back arching off the bed.

“Love your big cock in me, god,” Eddie cries out, and you glance up to watch his bitten fingernails dig bluntly into his palms, desperate to touch something, anything, “F—feels s’good, sweetheart. So good, you fuck me so good.”

“Really? Aw, babe.” You coo, hands gripping onto the backs of his thighs for purchase as you pull out all the way, then slam back in to the hilt. You break eye contact to watch the strap sink in and out of him, unable to tear your away.

Eddie’s cock leaks unashamed all over his belly, precum pooling in the dip of his bellybutton and streaking down his happy trail, matting down the hair there. He looks angelic, flushed a deep pink down to his chest with need, sweaty fringe stuck with sweat to his forehead.

He’s prettier when he’s needy for it. Begging for your pretty pink dick and gasping for air when you sink in and out, knocking the breath out of him. He loved it — being fucked open like this and laid bare for you to see all of him. Fragile and every bit of dominance knocked out of his body.

“Please, baby, please,” Eddie begs again, legs wrapping around your waist to push you deeper, and you gasp at the face of pleasure he makes, eyes screwing shut and bitten lips opening in a deep moan, “Need to come, need it. Need to come on your cock, please.”

“You’re cute when you beg,” You’re moaning too, feeling your slick slide down the insides of your thighs. This wasn’t all for him — fucking him turned you on as much as it did Eddie, there was something so powerful about knowing you could make him feel the same way he could you. You lean forward and grip a hold of his chin, shaking his head lightly, “Open your eyes when you come, Eddie. Want you to watch me fuck you stupid.”

He opens his eyes, lust blown orbs darting between your face and watching your tits as they jiggle with every rough thrust, your lacy black corset digging in to the underside of them. You’d spilled out of it long ago, struggled to care when you were eight inches deep in his tight ass and unravelling him with every single thrust.

Eddie fights with his restraints again as you pound into him, pushing his knees up to his chest so you can abuse his spot in a controlled manner with every thrust. His rickety old bed creeks under your movements, mixing in with his loud moans and the slick noises of your cock sliding in and out of him.

“Can I come now?” Eddie begs, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes, and you surely should take mercy on him now, with how tight his balls are drawn up and how his cock leaks and kicks like he’s struggling to hold back. You nod slightly, and he clearly takes that as his cue, “Thank you, thank you, aah—!”

Your cunt quivers and aches to be filled as you watch in awe at the hot spurts of come that shoot out of Eddie’s raw and neglected cock, shooting so far it hits his chin. You can’t feel it, but you know he’s clenching down around the silicone toy as you fuck him through it, slowing down as he begins to shake from overstimulation.

You grind to a halt, smiling all giddy at Eddie’s fucked out expression. He’s still moaning softly, hazy eyes blinking up at you and a soft little half-smile directed back at you in return. You lean forward, making to kiss his bitten lips, but change your mind at last second — instead darting down to swipe the come off his chin with a pointed tongue. He groans, and you moan against him, savouring the salty, heady taste of him on your tongue.

He nudges at you, begging silently for a kiss, and you do so with no hesitation. Leaning up that little bit further to bump noses before slotting your lips together. It deepens fast, Eddie opening his mouth for you so you can slide your tongue against his own — letting him taste himself. Your cock slips out of him with the movement, and he hisses, biting down on your lip in retaliation.

“Sorry, Eddie,” You mumble against his lips, retreating back and sitting on your haunches. You unclip the strap in silence, gasping in relief as the weight of it is taken off of your hips. You don’t miss how wet your thighs are with your own slick, glimmering in the warm light of the room.

“Y’gonna get me out of these?” Eddie asks, startling you out of the silence with a small jiggle of the metal. You look up at him and smirk, dropping the strap from your hands in favour of slinking your way up his body to sit prettily on his belly. You know he can feel your wet cunt on his heated skin.

“Dunno, I was thinking you could help me out first?” You feign a slight innocence, grinding down against him and relieving a bit of the harsh aching on your clit. He nods eagerly, waiting on baited breath for you to climb up the rest of the distance and hover over his face.

You do so with no hesitation, spreading your legs and bracketing Eddie’s head with your thighs. His curly hair tickles your soft skin, his plump lips kissing up the insides of your thighs softly until he nudges his nose into your cunt, breathing in deeply until you get yourself settled.

The first dip of Eddie’s tongue between your folds makes your legs buckle, has you fully seated on his face and he groans into your cunt, the vibrations shooting into your core and eliciting a loud moan in return, “Not gonna take long, babe, fuck keep doing that,”

Eddie alternates between licking up and down your cunt, savouring your juices, and sucking and biting at your clit. He’s in a perfect rhythm, one that he knows will get you off quickly. He knew your body so well by this point — what parts to press, what areas to kiss, what pressure you needed. How hard you liked it, how fast. He was insatiable.

“Fuck, fuck,” You cry, grinding down against Eddie’s face, fisting at his hair for leverage. His tongue laps at your core like he’s desperate to make you come and it’s working, your tummy coiling up and beginning to spasm with need, “That’s it, Eddie, your tongue is sinful, god—!”

He’s looking at you like butter wouldn’t melt, a picture of innocence with his big, wet eyes. Nose perched prettily on the mound of your cunt, nestled in your neatly trimmed hair. You wished you had your polaroid, you needed to have a memory of this exact moment.

You grind down against Eddie’s mouth again, one perfectly timed suck of your clit with a grind of your hips and you’re coming — soaking Eddie’s face in your release, cunt spasming around nothing as you cry out, head thrown back towards the ceiling as pleasure wracks your body.

When you come down, he’s back to kissing your thighs, eyes sparkly and face shining with your come. You feel him smiling against your sensitive cunt, tip of his tongue poking out to lick gently at your clit and you clench your thighs around his head, jerking back.

You’re weak for him, always have been. Probably always would be.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #my fanfic #mine #smut #x reader

[yanderewritingdump]

I've got a bit of brain rot about your shy neighbor who's just a little too into you.

AFAB reader, currently no pronouns used, MDNI

(Part 2)

Somehow- no matter when you decided to creep down to the basement of your apartment complex to do laundry- you always managed to run into your neighbor. He was slouching up the stairs with grocery bags dangling off his toned arms or he was propped up next to his front door as he smoked into the open-air hallways and scrolled aimlessly on his phone.

Polite habit had you offering a smile and a greeting. He was your neighbor after all. Not that you knew his name or anything about him aside from the fact he kept a weird schedule and always looked like he had rolled out of bed. Still, he always returned your greeting with a nod that seemed a little warm.

This time, he was leaving the laundry room with a laundry bag thrown casually over a broad shoulder, almost bowling you over as he swung the door open and stepped through. You scrambled back in the small space of the landing and managed to catch your foot on the last stair behind you. The only thought you had was that landing would hurt before he was stepping forward, free arm wrapping around your shoulders to pull you upright.

You blinked up at him, flustered a little at how close he was to you. “Sorry,” he grunted, voice low and rough as he squeezed past you to climb up the rickety stairs.

It was torturous enough sharing a thin wall with you and hearing everything, but touching you and having you pressed against him for however brief a moment right after a shower in your thin, skimpy pajamas was absolute hell. What was a man supposed to do?

Well, he probably wasn’t supposed to snatch the shirt that fell out of your laundry, but Reg was already up the three flights of stairs with it in his hands before he had thought better of it.

Which lead him to here, laid out on his bed- which pressed against the wall right next to where he knew yours was- with your shirt pressed against his face and his sweatpants shuffled down just far enough to wrap his hand around his cock. He knew what you sounded like when you used your toys, stifled gasps and soft moans as the bed creaked. It wasn’t hard to imagine you making them as you rocked above him, hands pressed to his chest as you took your pleasure from his body. He wondered if you’d be louder as you rode him, soft skin bruising under his fingers as he pulled you down to meet his thrusts once he got too lost in the feeling of you wrapped around his cock and watching you. Or would you bury your face in the crook of his neck to muffle yourself until he managed to find just the right angle to make you swear and clench around him.

The thought of you digging your nails into his biceps as he fucked you, leaving a pretty mark for him to look at later made him moan. He wanted to leave marks on you. Suck pretty bruises onto your throat and hips and thighs before he ruined anyone else for you. He wanted to make it so you always came to him when you wanted to cum, to make himself synonymous with pleasure and satisfaction in your brain. Swearing, his hand worked faster, and the lewd, slick noise filled the room and mixed with his low moans and whimpers.

There was no hope for him to quiet himself or slow down as the noise of you coming into your own bedroom registered dimly. He hoped you heard him loud and clear. He hoped you liked how noisy he was as his muscles flexed and tightened with his impending orgasm, because he like the thought of you muffling him with your tongue in his mouth, ass bouncing obscenely in his hands as he fucked his cum as deeply into you as he could.

#yandere oc #male yandere #afab reader #smut #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut

[goldenempyrean]

Sisterhood And Sniffles

〚 Prompt - "Im here for you, no matter what.”  〛

〚 Pairing - Yelena + Natasha (Sisterly)〛

〚 Wordcount - 700 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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The sound of another tissue being swiped from the box was what caught her attention at first, then it was the sound of her breath rapidly hitching before the inevitable… 

“Hu’tshhoo!” The younger woman hitched forward as she sneezed, her blonde hair falling messily over her face. 

“Bud' zdorova.” The redhead sitting opposite casually blessed her sister in her native tongue as the two continued to look over the vitally important plans. 

It wasn’t until Yelena bent forwards with another 2 loud sneezes that Natasha looked up see her rubbing the back of her wrist against her nose as she sniffled. 

“There are literally tissues infront of you,” Nat chided lightly earning herself a small eyeroll from the blonde who’d just swiped a few tissues to blow her nose with and Natasha waited until she was finished to ask, “You alright?” 

Yelena nodded giving a final sniffle before turning her attention back to the document infront of her. The two of them we’re trying to pinpoint which prison Alexei was currently hauled up in. The both of them was way beyond tired by this point, the crappy motel they’d found to stay in wasn’t exactly comfy by any means and the pair were currently slouched over a small table as they tried to work it out. 

“I see that new vest of yours did nothing to keep the chill off then.” Natasha commented as Yelena reached forward to swipe another tissue. 

“Hey! No disrespecting of my jacket,” Yelena sniffled bitterly, “You said you liked it earlier, no take backs.” 

Natasha smirked, a playful glint in her eyes. "I never said I didn't like it. I just said it didn't keep the chill off, which seems to be the case." 

Yelena pouted; her sniffles momentarily forgotten. "Well, it's fashionable, okay? And it looks good on me. That's what matters." 

Natasha chuckled, shaking her head. "Fine, I won't disrespect your precious jacket anymore. But seriously, are you sure you're, okay? You've been sneezing a lot." 

Yelena sighed, leaning back in her chair and crumpling up the used tissues in her hand. "Stupid immune system. We’re in a hot country for god's sake, how is a cold even possible.” 

“Well, it is a densely populated area and its foreign so your body isn’t assimilated to viruses here.” Concern flickered across Natasha's face. "Maybe you should take a break to rest up a bit. I can’t promise these beds will be comfortable though.” She said, motioning over to the rickety looking beds across the room. 

But her sister only shook her head stubbornly. "It’s fine, we just need to get this done.” 

Natasha studied her sister's weary face, her worry growing. Yelena had always been resilient, but even the strongest of people had their limits. She knew this all too well. 

"Alright," Natasha conceded reluctantly. "But promise me that if you start feeling worse, you'll let me know. We're a team now, alright? Im here for you, no matter what.” 

Luckily for her, Yelena nodded, “Fine, I am a responsible adult though yknow, not your little baby sister.” 

The older redhead let it go for now but as another hour slowly passed by she could see the obvious signs of exhaustion setting in. Yelena rested her head in her hands, claiming to just need a moment. But that moment seemed to have its own ideas when small congested snores were heard coming from her only minutes later. 

“Yeah, ‘Responsible adult’ my ass.” Natasha mumbled to herself, shaking her head at her sister’s inability to listen to her body’s needs. Standing up, Nat tucked her arms firmly under her and lifted the sleeping blonde from her chair and gently carrier her over towards the bed. She lowered her down onto it carefully, pulling up the thin duvet around her. 

Natasha stood there for a moment, observing her sister's peaceful sleeping form. Yelena looked so vulnerable, her usually fierce and confident demeanour replaced by the innocence of sleep. A wave of protectiveness washed over Natasha, reminding her of their bond and the responsibility she felt towards her sister. 

This time she’d be there. Nothing was gonna tear them apart ever again. Not even a silly little cold. 

#yelena belova #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fanfic #yelena belova fanfic #sickfic #marvel #mcu #marvel sickfic #yelena belova sickfic #natasha romanoff sickfic #black widow

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Fuck, Marry, Kill me now

Pairing: Bishop Losa x F!OC Bishop's wife x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), Threesome, slightly shy reader, Alcohol

Summary: You'd been working at the clubhouse bar for quite some time, and it was apparent that Bishop and his wife were the hottest thing in Santo Padre since hell lit up. Sure, you'd indulged and thought about what it'd be like to be sandwiched inbetween them, who wouldnt? But you assumed that it was always going to be a fantasy, that is until you're overheard one night playing a rather revealing drinking game...

A/N: Had this in the drafts for a while and had a little bit of time to finish it tonight. I just think that S1-2 Bishop and a potential badass hot wife topping me would be really fun and I just let my little bi heart run wild with this one.

It was crazy how a slip up one night playing such a silly game would change the course of your sex life forever, but then again things around Santo Padre were rarely normal. When nights spent dodging gunfire and flirting with killers was considered the usual it made sense that you’d end up in bed with Bishop and his old lady. 

It had been a slow night in the clubhouse. The guys were busy and wrapped up in so much of their own shit, that for once it was just you and the girls who worked the bar that remained. Normally you’d be up late cleaning. However that night, the little wooden shack was as clean as it could get, and when the boys were away it was only natural for you all to unwind a little.

So what did you all decide to do with your free time? Play stupid ass drinking games of course.

“Ok! Fuck, Marry, Killlllll…” Victoria shouted, breaking through everyone's giggles

The clubhouse had been practically shaking with everyone's laughter and it was filled with loud music playing over crackly bluetooth speakers. You were alive with the buzz of the cheap tequila that no one felt the boys would miss, and more energised than you’d been in a long time. 

Everyone managed to shut up for a second as Victoria glared around with her narrowed eyes and shushed till there was quiet. She’d looked around, trailing her gaze from the girls on the sofas and round everyone else sat on the rickety chairs that had been haphazardly sprawled in a messy circle. Once she was satisfied that the only noise left was the bassy music, she grinned like a vixen.

“Fuck, marry, kill: Creeper, Riz and Taz. Bambi, you start!” She said, directing her gaze at you.

They’d taken to calling you Bambi ever since your first day when you tripped up on spilt beer, and they’d never let you live it down. Although, if you were honest, you’d been clumsy plenty of times since then as well. It would always elicit an “aw, bambi” everytime. 

Everyone’s eyes were heavy on you, you felt a heat creep into your cheeks and looked down, avoiding all the stares. You’d much preferred truth or dare. Being made to make out and give fake lap dances was much more preferable than having to decide the fates of each of your bosses. What if it got back to any of them?

You had to come out of this night and continue to see them all everyday for christ sakes!

“Oh um…god do we have to do this,” you grumbled, taking another shot of tequilla.

You winced as it burned its way down your throat and grimaced further when you saw everyone rolling their eyes and folding their arms at you. You’d made an admirable suggestion, but clearly they weren’t biting. 

Fine then. The extra tequila had emboldened you at least. 

“Umm, ok well I guess fuck Riz,” you said with a shrug, taking out the easiest first. “Then-”

“Oh my god! What! Fuck Riz,” Lucia screamed, “Out of all those boys?”

“Lucia, don’t interrupt!” Victoria hissed, looking to her and back to you. “However, an explanation for each of your choices is vital in playing this game.”

You rolled your eyes at the added rules and went to grab the bottle of Jose Cuervo, but it was snatched from your grasp before you could pour another shot. Victoria met your glare with glee and held her finger up, waggling it at you.

“You only get to drink once you answer the question!”

“And give an explanation,” one of the other girls added.

You sighed, feeling a heaviness grow in your stomach as you got paranoid about the guys suddenly coming back and hearing you. Or even, what if they had cameras in the clubhouse? What if they were listening right then! 

You shook your head and took a breath, realising you were getting carried away with yourself. The sooner you answered the question the sooner the attention would be away from you.

“Fuck Riz cause he’s like the youngest so he’ll have stamina, Marry Creeper cause he has nice eyes, and kill Taza cause to be honest,” you shrugged, “his whole silent broody thing would get annoying.”

Everyone burst out laughing, but soon enough everyone else began rattling off their choices and reasons and the heat was off of you. Thank christ. 

You’d taken your winning shot and soon enough you were beginning to feel yourself slipping from tipsy to full on drunk. You were feeling more sloppy and free by the minute and suddenly you didn’t mind so much that you were all thirsting after the guys or plotting their demise. You were all equally as incriminated as each other at least.

I’d fuck him because he has all of those cool tattoos.

I’d kill him because I’d rather puke than wake up to him any day of the week.

I’d marry him because he has the biggest dick. Ask me how I know, someone please!

I’d kill him because he’d give me an STD…again.

You were surprised all the screeching you’d all been doing hadn’t summoned law enforcement. Though, no sirens or flashing lights came. Everyone just kept cycling through different combinations of guys and giving ever increasingly revealing answers. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d laughed this much.

“Ok,ok,ok!” Victoria said, once again having to break up the raucous. “We haven’t done…um-hm…oh, oh, I know! Bishop, Angel, Coco! Who’s taking it?”

“Bambi hasn’t answered in a while,” Lucia chimed.

“Ew! Coco’s my cousin!” You squealed, making a gagging motion straight after. “I’d like to think that disqualifies me.”

“Oh shit…well you can still answer, just kill him,” Lucia said nonchalantly, taking another shot. 

Soon enough all the eyes were on you again, but the nervous feeling that had crept up your spine before was nowhere to be found. All your inhibitions were lowered and you didn’t care what all the other girls thought now. Especially when they’d all clearly been so much more involved in the club than you. So much more. 

“Right so killing Coco right away leaves me with…” you sighed, thinking about your next two choices carefully. “I guess…nah you know what, I’d kill Coco and Angel so I could fuck Bish and his hot old lady. AKA, create the only threesome worth being in.”

Of course your answer brought on the most squealing out of all the others. No one had chosen to break the rules yet, but your revelation had them all jumping up out of their seats and waving their drinks around. You, meanwhile, bit your lip and wondered if they’d all remember this the next day. You’d always been so shy usually, but the drinking and the easy atmosphere had broken down your barriers and you were already starting to regret it. 

“What’d I say it’s always the quiet ones!” Lucia cackled 

You felt your cheeks heat again, but you didn’t feel half as guilty. Your revelation was nowhere near as embarrassing as all the others you supposed. That is…only for the following few seconds.

“You think about that threesome alot, bambi?” A voice called out from the doorway.

That familiar voice cut thickly through the squeals and the music and suddenly it was as if time stopped. Your throat went dry and suddenly the scent of cheap booze and skunky smoke died out when the chill night air crept in from the widened doorway. 

A curvy silhouette loomed from the entrance, standing in all her glory. Her tattoos were barely visible in the darkness, but her sparkly makeup and raven hair shone in the moonlight. It was Daniela herself, in all her chilling glory.  

The way she’d said your name was frightening, as if you were little again and had gotten in trouble with the teacher. It felt like you were only two feet tall. You gulped and timidly stared over to the door, suddenly feeling more sober than you’d ever felt in your life. A chill clawed its way up your back when you locked eyes with the very woman you’d spoken of. 

Speak of the devil and his old lady and one of them shall appear apparently. 

“Daniela,” you squeaked.

Suddenly, despite not being very religious, you were scraping to recall the name of every saint you’d ever heard of and started mentally praying. You’d do the sign of the cross if it weren’t for every muscle in your body going taught with fear. You could only hope that given you were Coco’s cousin, he could do something to stop you from being ditched in an unmarked grave. Although, just as you’d come to think of it, you doubted it highly. 

“I think it’s time you all left, hm girls?” Daniela said, placing her hands on her hips.

That was the cue for everyone to leave. The cacophony of scraping chairs and dropped glasses was all you could process until suddenly you hopped into action. You realised you were about to be the only one left behind. And you’d be damned if you were just going to let it happen. 

You went to rush past Daniela and lose yourself in the crowd, but you had no such luck. She grabbed you with ease, like a hawk snatching a mouse, just before you could run out. Just as you were about to taste freedom. 

Soon enough you found yourself alone with Daniela’s claw like nails rooted into you. Only you and her, staring into each other's eyes, feeling like you’d lost a war. You could feel a tear threaten to fall, and flinched when Daniela raised her hand. Though, instead of slapping you, she brought her palm delicately to your cheek and stroked over your smooth skin. You would've moaned if this were any other situation. 

You opened your eyes again and frowned, staring into her honey brown irises and getting lost in them. You felt like a heavy tongued idiot. You were lost for words. You wanted to apologise profusely but you couldn’t bring yourself to break the now stark silence. So she broke it for you.

“You know what, I’m flattered,” She said finally. “I’m not even mad.”

You felt your eyes widen in shock and before you could even think to control it, your jaw dropped. You’d need to pick your chin off the floor to get home. 

“Y-you uh, you’re not?” you said, stealing a glance out the door, looking to see if any of the girls had remained. 

“Nah, I just figured I’d clear everybody out. Bish is meeting me back here and I’m gonna fuck his brains out. I thought I’d prefer not to have an audience,” she shrugged, talking as if she were discussing doing the laundry. 

Your heart skipped a beat and if you weren’t already gaping like a fish you’d be doing it again. For a split second you wondered if that was an invite, but you immediately dismissed the thought. You knew how possessive she was of her man, there was no way she’d share.

“So um…can i go?” you asked, coming to your senses finally.

“Of course,” she smiled sweetly, tapping you on the nose like you were a child. “After you clean up all the mess you and your little friends made.”

Your smile fell as she added on the second part, but soon you’d decided it was better not to test her patience any further. You nodded mindlessly and rushed over to where you and the girls had been gathered before, taking glasses into your arms and dumping them in the sink. You cleared up all the rubbish and moved the chairs back to their old spots, and just as you were about to rush over to the sink and wash the glasses you heard Daniela clear her throat.

“You can get to those in the morning,” she said, waving you off. “Obispo will be here any minute and I fully intend to be spread out on that pool table by the time he arrives.”

You took a glance over to the battered old pool table she’d spoken of then back at her, nodding dumbly once again. You considered it a blessing she was letting you off the hook with what was basically doing chores, and thought better than to say anything more incriminating than you already had.. 

You were about to turn to the doorway, but just as she jumped up on her table, she interrupted your departure. The way she spoke made your veins freeze. 

“If you were anyone else I’d have slit your throat in a fucking second…but you’re too sweet to worry about, aren’t you bambi?”

Your throat closed over as your gaze travelled over her figure. She was sitting with her soft legs spread out over the edge of the table, heels dangling in the air, her pouty lips looked so pretty you could hardly believe she threatened you with them.

But she had.

“I swear, I wouldn’t ever-”

“I know you wouldn’t,” she said, grinning like a cheshire cat, “You can go now.”

Breath returned to your body and you raced out, not wasting a second more to stick around and see if she would stab you, afterall. You raced out into the night, feeling your heart pumping in your ears and took off down the road. You didn’t care you’d be running forever to get home, in your flats no less, you were just grateful to remain alive.

-💀-

It’d been a week since you’d last shown up at the clubhouse and if you were being honest, you hadn’t thought you’d ever show again. Coco had messaged a few times wondering where you got to, and of course some of the girls had tried to pull some gossip from you, but you’d ignored them all. You were content to leave the bar behind forever.

Though that wasn’t what fate had in store for you.

You’d been sitting in your room all day flicking through social media and half heartedly looking for a normal job when you heard the familiar call of a harley racing down the road. You sighed and hoped that it wouldn’t stop, but ultimately the engine cut out in front of your house and wouldn’t you know it, the doorbell rang. 

At that time in the evening you knew it could only mean one thing. Someone wanted you to come in to work. 

You crept up from your bed, chest constricting like crazy and silently made your way to the door. After peering up into the peephole, you cursed and rolled your eyes at yourself, unlocking the entryway soon after. It was only Coco.

“Fucking hell,” you hissed. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh my bad. I guess calling in for your cousin is rude these days! You haven’t answered your phone in ages, you’ve not been turning up for work, I thought you’d died or something, stupid!” Coco ranted.

You heaved out a breath and folded your arms, raising your chin in defiance. 

“Well as you can see, I’m fine. You can go,” you smiled, ready to close the door in his face.

“No, I can’t go,” Coco said, jamming his foot in your doorway. “I think Bish is mad you haven’t turned up in a while. He sent me here to ask you to come in tonight, there’s a party on and he needs girls at the bar.”

You’d pretty much tuned out as soon as the words “Bish is mad” left his mouth. Oh god, you were going to have to pay the piper now. Would you have to leave town? Could you do that? No, you didn’t have any money to your name and you had no way of getting any either. You were screwed. 

“B-Bishop asked for me?” you stuttered.

“Yeah. He still wants you round even after you’ve been all flaky and shit. Can I tell him you’ll be there or do I have to drag you in tonight?” Coco asked, his hard glare fixing on you. “Don’t forget who vouched for you! You messing Bishop around, makes it look like I’m messing him around, remember?”

“Ok, ok, jesus! Fine. I’ll come in. When does he need me?” you relented, feeling guilty that your fuckup would land on him.

“The others are there now. Just get ready and come in!”

-💀-

And so, that’s how you found yourself standing in front of the monolith that was the clubhouse. There was a knot in your stomach and a ringing in your ears that hadn’t left since the moment you’d slammed the door on Coco. This is the dump I’m gonna die in, you thought. 

You took a breath and ran a shaky hand through your styled hair, finally stepping toward the doorway. It felt like it weighed a ton. You slid through it like a shadow and just as you were hoping to make a low key entrance you heard gasps sound out around the room as everyone took you in. You’d been announced. Great.

“Holy shit, she’s still alive!” you could hear someone not so subtly whisper. 

You rolled your eyes and moved to go around back and put your things away, returning again to see everyone still staring. Apparently you were the biggest attraction of the night, dead girl walking was a hit.

“Yes, I’m here! What needs to be done?” you asked finally, hoping you could alleviate the tension.

They all ogled you for a little longer, but soon enough, Victoria stepped out from the small crowd and shoved you toward the bar, getting you to help load up on drinks. It was only then that everyone broke out of their collective trance and allowed you to get on with your business, not wanting to be seen slacking.

As everything returned to normal, everyone busying up around you, you started to feel at ease. It was like any other day in the clubhouse, like a natural rhythm had returned to the place. You got stuck into the routine of helping everyone and even managed to crack a smile or two. Things were going to be alright.

However, because you’d had your guard down you were entirely unprepared for what happened when the guys filtered in. As always, you’d gotten to work fetching them drinks and chatting away, engaging in your job and enjoying their playful flirting. Then, just as you’d grabbed Creeper a beer you froze when a worn hand reached out of nowhere and settled on your back.

You froze completely, knowing exactly whose hand it was before you’d even looked. You could smell the signature mix of faint perfume and strong tobacco that only ever emanated from one man after he was done fucking a certain someone.

“Nice to see you back, querida.”

You turned and locked eyes with the president, sheepishly offering him a smile and hoping you could sink into the ground. Though no amount of wishing would make it happen. He stood before you in his tight grey shirt and signature kutte looking just as handsome as ever. He even had a little scratch by his eye that added to that roguish handsome look. 

Oh shit snap out of it! 

Just as you were about to offer up a thousand apologies and plead for your life, he moved his hand round to your hip and tightened his grip. His rough lips hovered by the curve of your ear. You could feel his breath wash over your flesh and leave it in a goosebumpy mess. 

“Make sure to stay for the whole night. We have a job for you later,” he whispered, pulling away and winking at you.

You gawped at him and watched as he stalked off to go find someone that could go get him a drink. A girl that could actually function. He’d known he’d short circuited you for the time being. A job? You had no idea what that could mean and you could only stand and let the cogs in your mind turn as you tried to work out what that meant.

He didn’t seem malicious in any way when he’d said it. No, he just had that classic Bishop charm about him, he’d swaggered off as if he’d just told you he’d won a bet. No, he wasn’t mad and ready to kill you, he was…if you weren’t mistaken, the mood that burned in his chestnut eyes was…excited. 

“What was that all about?” 

You snapped out of your thoughts and whirled around to see Coco’s confused face, biting your lip as you tried to come up with an excuse. 

The fact that the threesome thing hadn’t spread round the whole club like wildfire had you questioning the gossip mill. Though, you recalled there had been so much spread round that night, perhaps they’d been worried that once one secret split the whole dam would break. That wouldn’t end well for most of the girls. 

You sighed and got your thoughts in line, shaking your head.

“None of your damn business, Johnny,” you snapped.

Coco looked stunned for a second, but soon enough he’d shrugged it off and stalked back to Angel with a “whatever”. 

Thank god Coco wasn’t the inquisitive type, you thought. You shrugged and got back to work, soon realising that guys from different charters were filtering in and they needed paying attention to the most. You had to make a good impression for the club. For Bishop, a small voice chimes in the back of your head. 

From then on, you kept your mind on serving and tried desperately not to think about what Bishop had talked about. You hoped that if you kept your mind off of it, he wouldn’t turn around and decide to shoot you in the head. Acting like some kind of Gomez Adams for his Morticia, it would be just like him to do something morbid in the name of love. 

As the night went on the crowd had swelled and grown rowdier and rowdier, when the boys celebrated they celebrated hard. Though, eventually they began to filter out. Guys were finding girls to take to seedy motels and as it got later there were more and more people dropping like flies, passing out over the couches and floors.

Daniela had caught your eye at one point in the night, she’d been standing by the pool table and winked at you when you caught her gaze, looking pointedly at the table just to remind you that she’d been on it not so long ago, probably fucking in every position there was. It made you shudder, though whether from fear or something else you couldn’t be sure. All you knew was that you felt warmth swirling in you soon after.

You kept your head down despite it though. You went through the motions of grabbing more beers and cleaning bottles, trying to do damage control for the next day. Just as you were grabbing a couple of empty Coors, you were stopped from putting them away when a body stepped into your path. 

You inhaled deeply and stared up from her fishnet clad legs, and finally to Daniela’s face. Apparently your fight or flight instit was lacking because instead of running away like a scared little girl, you froze and looked up at her like a deer in headlights. Your hands shook and you dropped the bottles, wincing when they crashed to the floor and smashed neatly at your feet.

A couple of glances went your way, but soon enough everyone got back to their own business, not wanting to be caught staring at Bishop’s old lady. You gulped and were about to start babbling like an idiot, scrambling for an apology, but apparently you were too scared to do that too.

“Careful, bambi,” Daniela drawled, kicking the big shards out the way with her chunky heels. “Don’t want you to get hurt. We’ve got big plans for you.”

“Y-you have?”

“Mmm, thought I told you, Bambi,” A voice growled from behind you. “We have a proposition for you.”

You turned quickly and spun right into Bishop, eyes going wide as you stared at the president. His expression was unreadable, his eyes were intense on you but his lips were quirked in a slight smile. You had no idea what was going to happen. Though you had noticed he’d changed from saying it was a job and now a proposition all of a sudden. What did that mean exactly? 

They were either going to fuck you or have fun fucking each other after disposing of your corpse. You’d narrowed it down to those possibilities at least.

You gulped and just as you were about to move out of Bishop’s space, he grabbed your arms and pulled you toward him, pressing his mouth to your ear. You could feel the warm leather of his kutte and the tickle of his moustache light up your flesh, drawing more shallow breaths from you.

“Be a good girl and come with us,” he whispered lowly. 

You nodded, feeling your throat go dry and your heart race. This was it, you were going to find out what fate they had in store for you. Once Bishop was satisfied you’d follow, he released you from his tight grip and walked ahead toward templo. He navigated expertly round fallen drunk bodies while you stumbled forward and Daniela followed behind.

You felt small again when you finally walked into the sacred space, swallowed into the darkness and feeling 2 feet tall. There was only one dim light illuminating the room and it flickered ever so slightly, putting your nerves on edge. You bit your lip and just as you were about to ask what they wanted with you, you cried out when you were shoved toward the table. 

You slammed back into it, grabbing the rough edge with your hands, feeling the cold hardwood dig into your back. Everything seemed to be happening too fast, the room was spinning. The two figures advanced toward you. You swallowed down a breath and watched as they both came to a stop and looked from you to each other with heavy lidded gazes and restless hands.

“Was it true what you said that night?” Bishop finally said, reaching out and tucking a stray bit of hair behind your ear.

Your flesh burned as his calloused hands stroked circles into it. It felt like your blood was igniting in your veins right there and you were going to burn up. Though, maybe that was just the shyness that was eating you up as you tried to avoid their eyes.

“W-what?” You finally asked, mentally cursing at how dumb you sounded.

“Oh, Bambi, don’t play stupid,” Daniela said, reaching out and digging her freshly manicured nails into the soft flesh of your thigh. “Do you need me to repeat what you said?”

Your leg burned where her nails were scraping, but that sensation combined with Bishop’s hands softly grazing your face was enough to have you shaking with pleasure. You knew for a fact if you touched yourself right now you’d be on fire, you’d be dripping. 

“I- uh-”

“You said that if you had the choice you’d want to fuck Bishop and his hot old lady,” she interrupted, grinning effortlessly with that pearly white smile of hers.

“I did say that, didn’t I?” You giggled nervously, feeling your stomach flutter.

Bishop chuckled at you, revelling in how shy you were. It wasn’t what he was used to and part of him was excited by it. He liked knowing that you held them to such a high regard, he was getting off on the fact that you were there on that table, letting them touch you and clearly getting just as horny as they were. Even despite your fear.

He’d looked over to his wife and grinned when he caught his mirror image, his woman thinking just the same. Daniela was possessive of her man sure, but there was something about you that made her want to own you too. To have you there admiring her and Bishop like they were Mayan gods and you a disciple, she wanted to be worshipped and she knew she could get that from you. Her own little endorphin shot. 

“When Dani told me what you said, I thought it was cute. I was surprised that she let you away so lightly, but then it occurred to me that maybe she actually liked your little idea…and then when we were on that pool table and I asked her if she wanted to make you our little bitch she clenched on me like a fucking vice, bambi,” Bishop rasped, suddenly gripping your jaw and making you gasp. 

You squeaked at the thought of them discussing you while they fucked and swore that you’d feint right then and there. Was this a dream? You licked your lips and stole glances at both of them, feeling your thighs start to tremble and grow light. You were clutching at the table just to stay up now. 

“So what do you say? You wanna be part of the only threesome worth being in?” Daniela asked innocently, trailing her nails gently up and down your thighs now. “You can say no if you want to. But something tells me you won’t.”

If your heart were to beat any faster you’d be sure that they’d both have heard it. You were incapable of forming any words now, your lips were about to open and form some sort of reply but then your head was too empty to come up with anything. You just nodded instead, slowly at first and then frenzied, moaning under your breath. You’d be crazy to say no. 

And just like that, it felt like you’d  ordered a hit on yourself. Bishop fastened this hand around your neck and his eyes transformed into darkened pits. Daniela moved behind Bishop and kissed his neck, grinning at you impishly while you stared up with big helpless eyes. 

“Get on your knees then, Bambi. Be a good girl for us,” Bishop growled. 

You whimpered and did as he said straight away, falling to your feet and landing straight by his crotch. That wasn’t an accident though, he pushed your face into it and had you inhaling his hardness. You were flush with his pulsing dick, feeling as it grew bigger with every passing second, throbbing away at your heating cheeks.

Daniela moved around to your back, coming to Bishop’s front so that she could share a passionate kiss with him. You could hear their breaths come in hot and heavy while you lingered there by Bishop, feeling your eyes grow progressively wider as you realised how huge he actually was. Your breath started to go and for a second as you watched them, a silent observer allowed into their love making. You couldn’t believe what was happening.

“Thats a real man’s cock right there Bambi. Guaranteed better than any son of a bitch you’ve ever been with” Daniela said, voice heavy with lust as she spared a glance down at you. “Do you want a taste? Wanna get it warmed up for me?”

“Fuck yes,” you moaned.

You didn’t need to think twice about it. You were practically salivating already. You reached up to his waistband and grabbed at his belt, pawing it off and making quick work of his buttons. It sprang out hard and thick right before your eyes and had you already gasping as you took it in fully. Daniela wasn’t kidding, that dick was better than any other you’d seen before.  

“Mmm, she’s so eager, baby. She’s a little slut for us,” Bishop groaned, fisting his hand into your hair. 

You whimpered at his words, but you didn’t have anything to say back to that. You were a slut when it came to them apparently. Especially when Bishop was gripping your head and holding his cock out to you like you were his loyal pet and that was your treat. In fact, the situation didn’t feel far off. 

“You want this cock? You tell us how much you want it, tell us how much of a whore you are,” Bishop grinned.

You looked up helplessly to them both and bit your lip, repressing your embarrassed smile. This was like Christmas. This was a dream come to life, they were so degrading, but you loved it. How could you not revel in their attentions, whatever attention that might be. 

“I’m a whore,” you murmured at first, still chewing on your lip. “I’m a little whore and I wanna warm your cock up for Daniela, gonna get it nice and wet.”

Daniela’s eyes lit up when you said her name and she smiled wide at your admission. She was getting off on this just as much as you were. You felt her chase off Bishop’s hand from your head and replaced it with her own. She urged you toward her husband's cock and guided you, telling you how to lick and suck it just right. 

While you nuzzled at Bishop’s crotch, Bishop got to work undressing his wife. He unbuttoned her tight black denim shorts and rucked them down with her fishnets, pulling her top over her head straight after and chucking it away without ceremony. Her soft curvy body was revealed to you in full and you almost choked in double when you saw her standing above you like something out of a dirty film. 

“You think she’s pretty, Bambi? Tell her how pretty she is,” Bishop grunted, straining with effort. “My beautiful fuckin’ wife.”

Oh, she was pretty alright. You squeaked when Bishop pulled his cock from your mouth. 

“You’re like a goddess,” you breathed, licking your wet lips. “So pretty.”

“Aren’t you sweet, bambi! Why don’t you come up and give me a kiss?”

It was like you were hypnotised. You stood immediately, eager to do whatever she asked and kissed her. She was so soft and warm, and she tasted like sugar and fruity cocktails. Just like heaven. You were losing yourself, feeling like you were falling into a fantasy. 

Before you could fully comprehend that your own clothes were coming off, you were standing before her equally naked. Bishop had expertly taken down zippers and buttons and shrugged off every last scrap of material, which you’d failed to notice until you felt him pressed to your back. The rough leather of his kutte sent shivers through your spine. 

“You’re a pretty little thing yourself,” he said in a lowly voice. “Been hiding all this away from us, you little minx.”

Soon enough you were sandwiched between them, lost in kissing Daniela and then being turned to kiss Bishop, until eventually you were all naked and making out in a sloppy circle. It felt like your breath was getting heavier and heavier, your head was light and suddenly you were feeling a high you’d never felt before, moaning lowly into their sweet mouths. 

“Such a needy little whore, Bambi,” Bishop rasped, pulling away from your desperate mouth. “Why don’t you bend over that table and show us that cute little ass, huh?”

In less than a second you were bent over the table, staring into the darkness at the end of the room as the couple indulged in looking you over. You could feel the heavy weight of their stares on you. Their hands drifted over your cheeks, pulling and squeezing and scraping their nails, drowning you in a flurry of feelings. 

Then, before you could prepare for it, a sharp slap fell over your ass causing you to cry out and look back at them both with wide eyes. It had your heart thumping and spine tingling. 

“Aw, does baby not like it too rough?” Daniela teased. 

“No-yes, i mean- wait yes do it again,” you rasped, not quite all there enough to be coherent. 

“Poor kitten, doesn’t know what way’s up,” Bishop chuckled, following up with another hard slap. 

“She doesn’t need to, just needs to do what she’s told, right baby?”

“Right.”

You Yelp again when another slap comes and feel your head grow fuzzy, losing yourself in the burning. It’s not long until the unforgiving slaps are replaced with fingers working their way past your thighs and through your folds. There’s a buzz letting loose through your body and you can feel your tummy getting tight with the building sensation.

You’re getting wet, you can feel it and even hear it a little as Bishops fingers continue to work on you. He’s erratic, growing lazy as he makes out with his wife and slows down on you. It had you whimpering out with frustration. You need him to go a little faster, you need more. 

“Oh are you getting needy, Bambi?” Daniela asks, breaking away from her husband. “You need more?” 

“Uh huh, please please, more,” you beg, hoping for some relief.

You can hear them both whispering to each other for a moment, though what they’re saying you don’t know. All you were aware of was that Bishops hand had slowed to a complete stop. Now you were getting nothing. Were you above crying for more? The thought was filling your mind more than any other. 

A few moments later Daniela moved around to your front and stroked a hand through your hair. It had you arching your back. It wasn’t the touch you needed, but any sort of attention was something. It had you looking up into Daniela’s calculating eyes with a pleading look, watery with need. 

“Make some room, Bambi,” she murmured, her voice was sultry now. 

You picked up on her tone and the way her body leaned into the table, and realised her intentions right away. She wanted to sit in front of you, sit in front of your face. Your cheeks heated up, but you managed to oblige despite your brain melting down. 

You moved aside and let her lay in front of you, she was flat on the table. Her chest rising and falling a little heavier now that your breath was huffing out fast into her mound. Your eyelids were drooping heavily with lust. 

“Now, bambi, have you ever eaten pussy before?” bishop asks, renewing his teasing touches.

Bishops fingers are practically gliding through your lips. You’re so wet, so ready for him. Goddammit, why couldn’t he go a little faster? Wait - it registers he asked you a question. 

“Y-yes,” you answer shyly. “I was with a girl for a little bit.”

“Mhmm, that’s good bambi,” he chuckles, finger snagging at your entrance. “Bit of experience puts you at an advantage. See, the game is simple. If you can make my woman cum before I make you cum, I’ll be very generous. I’ll give you my cock. If not, then you can watch while I fuck my pretty little wife and then we’ll give you a spanking you won’t ever forget. What do you say?”

Your mind whirrs with what Bishop says and you feel your tummy do a flip. This is the hottest thing you’ll ever be involved in. This is a goddamned fantasy come true. You could hardly believe it was real. 

“Yes, Bishop! Yes, please,” you whine, already clasping at Daniela’s thick thighs.

Her skin is so soft you swear it’s like grasping at a cloud. You look over her body and bite your lip, you’re ready. You’re ready to lap at the glistening pussy in front of you, and you’re ready to get fucked by Bishop after your victory. You can practically feel the smile curling at your lips already. 

“Ugh, what are you waiting for, Bambi? You want a fucking invitation?” Daniela moaned out.

That’s all you needed. The game begins. You flick your tongue out gingerly to start with, picking up on the whimpers that work their way out of that pretty mouth. You listen out for every little whine and every twitch of her legs and stomach, responding to them all. Her warm salty taste drifts over your tongue and fills your senses, dulling your mind as it slowly grows drunk with need. Your strokes grow bolder and you pull yourself closer to her, nuzzling into her pussy and drawing out those delicious cries.

“That’s it, that’s it, oh my god!” She moaned out, getting lost in her reverie. 

“Mm, that feel good baby? You enjoying our little fucktoy?” Bishop asked, his voice thick with lust. 

“Yes, shit - yes!”

You could only be privy to their conversation, not a part of it. Although, you were so mentally occupied you couldn’t have even formed words anyway. 

Despite how busy you got yourself though, nothing could distract you from Bishop's fingers. They were so thick and had the perfect feel on your swollen clit. His calloused hands grazed on all the right spots. It had you writhing, almost screaming out when he started adding fingers inside you, stretching you out and making you crazy with lust. 

Your whole body was shaking. It felt like you were a firework about to explode. You can feel your legs losing all sensation, so overwhelmed by all the stimulation. Your head was feeling heavier and your jaw was slowly aching, there was a temptation to give into Bishop, to let go and let yourself cum on his skilful fingers. It’s not like you wouldn’t get off like crazy just watching Bishop and Daniela fucking, you’d thought to yourself. 

But, God, you didn’t really want to stop though. Hearing the noises that were coming out of Daniela was too heavenly. Knowing it was you and not Bishop doing that to her made it all the sweeter. Another moan came that made you redouble your efforts, curling your hand around her thigh even tighter and adding a finger and then another. You were creating a symphony of screams now. 

Your breaths were coming in sharp and fast, Bishop was chucking behind you. He knew how hard it was for you to keep going without cumming. Your thighs were shaking like mad and you were so wet and sloppy. 

“Aw, little bambi. That feel good? You like my fingers in your little pussy, hm? You wanna come on my hand? Wanna let go for me?” Bishop growled, egging you on. “C’mon Bambi, let go, cum for me.”

God he was gonna be the death of you. 

Your whole body felt completely overheated. Like you were going to melt all over the table. You were screaming out into Daniela’s pussy, but judging by the sounds drowning out your screams above you, she was close too. You were both writhing together like something out of a porno and Bishop was getting the perfect view of it all. He was the president in all aspects, the winner at the head of the table.

You sped up your pace, tongue moving wildly against her, fingers diving into her wetness with reckless abandon. You both sang together in a cacophony of moans, your throat was aching, Daniela was straining. 

Then, just as you were beginning to feel yourself give in to Bishop, you felt Daniela grab a fistful of your hair. She screamed and pushed herself onto you, drenching you in her wetness. 

“Fuck!” She was cursing, laying out a whole string of profanity. 

And soon enough you were chasing your high as well, coming apart on Bishop's fingers. Your entire body tensed up and then you were undone, your head was empty. All that was left was white noise and Daniela’s wetness all over your naked body. The sound of silence and your pleasure all swirling into a delicious ecstasy inside your mind.

“Ladies! That was quite a show. Look at you both,” Bishop chuckled, “Dani, my love, I’m almost jealous. How long’s it been since you were sprawled out like that for me?”

Bishop stood over your legs, shuttering them in between his big arms as he leaned on the table you were sprawled out on. The very table he used to conduct business everyday. The table where life and death decisions were made, where you’d had a little death of your own. 

“Mm, you had me like this this morning Obispo, don’t undersell yourself,” Daniela moaned, recovering her breath once again. “Shit, bambi, you really did a number on me. Who knew you had all that in you.”

You smiled weakly, head almost too full of fuzz to respond beyond a series of moans. Almost. You were coherent enough to feel proud of your achievement. You were practically glowing with the knowledge that you were the one that had Bishop's old lady screaming like that. 

“I got more in me if you want it,” you said brazenly, biting your lip while you gushed at her reaction. 

“Well you say that now…” she smiled, sitting up and stretching out toward you, locking you into a quick kiss. “But we’ll see how you do with getting fucked silly by my husband, hm?” 

You gulped, not realising what you’d gotten yourself into until Bishop was suddenly on you again, rutting into you with his big thick cock. He slicked it through your wet folds, stroking through the wetness there and getting himself ready to wreck you. You were already gripping at the table in anticipation. Soft whimpers escaping from your mouth.

He took his time getting prepared. Had you needily moaning into Daniela’s mouth as she continued to steal a taste of herself from your lips. Your head was still ringing with fuzz and static from your last orgasm, but already, you could feel another beginning to build. The way his cock was pressing up against your clit was slowly driving you wild.

“Are you ready for me, Bambi? Mhmm? Wanna cum all over my cock, filthy girl?” Bishop rasped, still lazily rutting against you.

You were freed for a moment to answer, though you were slow on the uptake. It was hard to answer when you were panting so hard and pussydrunk to boot. There was barely a neuron left firing in your head.

“Please,” you moaned, whimpering like a mess. “Please, Bishop. Wanna get fucked. Please fuck me.”

“Aw, you beg so pretty, Bambi,” Bishop teased, rocking deliberately harder against your clit. “What do you think, Dani? You think she’s ready?”

You looked up and gazed into Daniela’s eyes, watching as she surveyed the scene in front of her with a sly smile and wondered vaguely if you might still be up for the chopping block. There was something so unnerving about the way she was looking at you. Though, you would soon come to learn you weren’t half as prepared as you thought you were for the fucking you were about to recieve.

“Give it to her hard, baby. Make her scream!” she rasped, tightening her grip on your hair.

And just like that, she’d unleashed the bull from his pen. Bishop’s cock caught your entrance and punched up, sliding all the way in and to the point that you were already heaving breaths. The stinging of his fullness was soon replaced by waves of harsh pleasure that rolled and crashed, carrying you away into a sea of sensation.

You were screaming and clutching at Daniela, burying yourself in her softness, continuing to accept her sloppy kisses, until you were pushed back down to her pulsing pussy. It gave you the perfect excuse to grab onto her thighs, clutching at her as if you were drowning. You, buried yourself into her and lost yourself, moaning like someone possessed as the feeling of Bishop’s cock driving in and out of you sent you wild. In and out, pistoning like a porn star.

“This pussy feels so good Bambi, you got such a greedy little cunt. You’re falling apart for me like a little whore,” Bishop panted, still maintaining his punishing rhythm. “You gonna come for me again? Gonna make my dick feel good?”

You moaned, too lost in his wife’s pussy for any real words.

“Ugh, Bishop, my love, I can practically feel you through her, fuck,” Daniela moaned, banging her hand down on the table through a particularly hard thrust. 

“Yeah? She making you feel good, princessa? Fuck, such a good little fuck toy, isn’t she?”

“Ugh, I could take her home,” she squealed.

“We could - ugh - Lock her away and take her out to play with whenever we want.”

“Oh, baby. I bet she’d like that, such a good little doll for us.”

“Fuck!” you screamed, your cries muffled.

Their words were getting to you, tangling through your mind and tightening the chord that was threatening to come undone. You were on the brink of another orgasm. You could feel it straight down to your toes, your whole body was alive with a steady thrum that cut through you like a scalpel.

“Ugh, come on, slut. Cum for us, come for us now. Go! Scream!”

You only barely heard Bishop before you were screaming out and clenching on his cock. You could hear yourself feintly, but only barely. Every little fibre of your being was lost to the couple now, letting them take complete control of you. You were theirs now, completely at their mercy. Just as you’d always fantasised.

You could feel Bishop ease up on you a little, starting to slow down his thrusts until he was barely moving. He rested in your over sensitive pussy for a moment, revelling in your soft warmth and gently eased himself out after a minute or two. It drew out a low moan from you, made you jump against the rough wood. You could shamefully feel the warmth of your wetness spreading over your thighs, your pussy was weeping.  

Daniela’s hands stroked through your hair for a second or two as her and Bishop shared a whispered conversion. The soft tones and the gentle petting was calming you, making the fuzziness recede and the darkness seem less all consuming. Then you were back in the room again.

“Poor little Bambi, all fucked out,” Daniela cooed, stroking your cheek. “Why don’t you take a break, hm? Just lie there and watch, pretty girl.”

Daniela was moving to your side and dutifully you pulled yourself up onto the table and lay there fully, staring as Bishop lined himself up with his wife and drew her into a hard kiss. Their lips came together noisily and you watched on, completely enraptured as they grabbed at each other and explored familiar paths along each other's skin. It was true love if you’d ever seen it.

You sighed breathily and soon enough Bishop was parting from her lips and grabbing his wife’s hair, staring intently as if he were about to say the most important words in the world, whispering something in the shell of her ear. You bit your lip, and despite how ward you’d come already, you felt stirrings in your tummy again as you watched them. There was something so hot about being an observer, lying there in your fading ecstacy and watching as they engaged in their heated ritual.

“Ugh, you feel so fucking tight for me, Pincessessa,” Bishop rasped, finally sliding into his wife. “You ready to put on a show?”

“Always ready, my love,” she moaned, gripping onto Bishop’s shoulders tight. “Always…ugh! Fuck, keep your eyes on us, Bambi. Watch how I take his cock.”

You moaned out, mesmerised by the sight in front of you and lay back into the table, settling into the warm wood below. You were quite happy to do whatever they asked, feeling like the cat that got the cream. Even if you were to die that night, you’d mused, you knew you’d die happy.

Who knew drinking games could be so fun? 

#bishop losa #bishop losa x reader #mayans fanfic #mayans au #mayans mc #michael irby

[nagdabbit]

built to last

words: 1.4k

rating: gen, it's fluffy as shit

so the other night i was high off my ass and was like, tell me something silly to write cuz im in the mood to accept prompts, and @sarahcakes613 was like,

and then I vomited this out into existence, fell asleep, woke up and forgot it for several days. so, uh. here? have some stupid fluff?

(also on ao3)

.

He woke to the sharp smack of jeans against his forehead and a sharp, demanding, "What the fuck, Bry?"

"What the fuck what?" he muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It was still dark out, just a little light shining in from the house next to his own. Everything was still drenched in shadow, but Mox made himself seen.

Mox was standing over him in nothing but his t-shirt and boxers, wide eyed and a little frantic, jeans in hand. His shirt was a little wrinkled from a night on the floor, neck stretched a little from where Bryan had wrenched at it, showing off a few bite marks across his clavicle. 

He waved a frantic hand back behind him, "That, Bryan! What the fuck is that out there?!"

His living room? His kitchen? He couldn't think of anything he owned that would leave Mox looking any kind of spooked. Not really, not like that. "I have absolutely no idea."

He kicked the mattress and gestured again, this time toward the window set into the wall. Toward the house next door, and the dock and the lake outside.

"Oh, that's—"

"That's fuckin' water, Bryan," Mox snapped, and gave him another smack with his jeans. "We are on a boat—Bryan, you put me on a fucking boat."

He lifted an eyebrow. "And let me guess, you don't li—"

"I fuckin' hate boats, Bryan. I hate them. They're dangerous fuckin' deathtraps," he snapped, pacing across the room. "I hate boats."

Bryan rolled his eyes and sat up. "You don't say."

"Oh, don't be cute. You said—you said we were going back to your new house," Mox grumbled and threw himself back down onto the bed, wrestling his jeans on. 

"This is a house."

"Bryan this is a—floaty fucking—it's a death trap is what it is. You can put a stove and couch in it, it's still gonna sink," he insisted, continuing to struggle. "Fuckin' tricked me, you goddamn scruffy fuckin' dickhead, I never woulda gone home wit' you if you'd said you bought a fuckin' houseboat." 

"I did say, but you might not have heard me. Little hard to speak when you're trying to lick my tonsils," Bryan muttered rolling his eyes. He stretched a little, pushing back the warm covers.

"Oh, bullshit, you didn't say anythin' about this," he muttered, beginning the process of looking for his socks. 

"You didn't see the dock last night?" he asked, dryly, and crawled forward so he could drape himself across Mox's back. "The water? The boats?"

"I was half asleep and following my dick, 'course I didn't notice." Mox tried to shrug him off, but Bryan just latched on tighter. "You tricked me."

"It's not a trick if I don't know there's a problem. I just wanted to bring you home with me," Bryan promised, scratching his nails lightly across Mox's chest. "C'mon, go back to sleep."

Mox sputtered and gave another violent shrug, but Bryan fought to hold on. "No, why the fuck would I sleep on a boat?!" he demanded, voice a little strangled. "You can't fuckin' swim if you're sleeping."

Bryan wanted to laugh, but he didn't really think that would actually help, not when it was likely to end with him being single. And, for some reason, he kinda loved the man. Just a little. Not that he'd actually said yet, not out loud. So he soothed a palm up Mox's chest, trying to be comforting.

"Calm down, I promise we're safe. Okay? Just let me get a little more sleep. It's early and we don't fly out until the afternoon." He pulled gently, urging Mox to fall back into bed with him. "I promise, if there were any problems, I'd never have brought you. We'll be okay for a few more hours."

"I don't care, it's a boat and I'll get seasick from this rickety fuck—"

"Jon, shut the fuck up for thirty seconds," Bryan grumbled, and pressed a hand to Mox's frantically running mouth. "Take a deep breath, calm down, and then take a moment to notice that we aren't rocking."

He made an indignant sound beneath Bryan's hand, but did as he was told. He was good at that, most of the time. 

"These things are extremely heavy, and have a low center of gravity that keeps them steady. You're not gonna get seasick, unless you work yourself into a panic," he promised, resting his chin on Mox's shoulder. "The most common problem these things have is the sewer line getting messed up, not sinking. Or having to hire a diver to go get something you dropped off the side."

Mox pushed his hand away, "But it can still—"

"A lot of things can happen," he reminded Mox. Bryan didn't think getting specific by reminding him that planes could crash was a good idea, not when they were going to fly out in a few more hours, so he kept it vague. "Just because it can doesn't mean it will. And if this then ever does sink, we'll have plenty of warning and we'll be able to get to the dock before our feet even get wet."

"And it could sink when we're asleep and then we're just s-o-fuckin'-l," Mox added, but he wasn't as tense as he had been. 

"For a man who keeps callin' me a boy scout, you really don't have a lot of faith in me," Bryan admonished, but softened it with a kiss to his shoulder. "I have an alarm. If anything changes, that thing'll go off. And I promise it's loud enough to wake us."

Mox made a skeptical little noise, but didn't immediately argue.

"I had them install flashing lights, too." It was strange how much negotiation was involved in getting Mox to relax. "It's just as safe as any other house."

"Stop making this all sound so fuckin' reasonable," Mox grumbled, and let Bryan wrestle him back down into bed. "I hate boats."

"You've made that very clear, babe, but it's a little hard to find a new house at four in the morning."

Mox scoffed and let himself be manhandled up the bed. "Don't sell your fuckin' boat, Bry."

He rolled his eyes and dropped his weight down onto Mox's chest, just to keep him from running off again. Definitely not because that was his favorite place to sleep, legs parted over Mox's hips. "Can't bring you home if you're just gonna panic yourself into a tizzy every time you're here."

"But—"

"But nothing, it's not worth it if you're gonna freak out." And it really wasn't. Being in love was stupid, like that.

Mox groaned and kicked one of his heels against the mattress. "I don't have to come here."

"Then what's the point of having this place?" Bryan asked, before he could think better of it. "I don't need it if I just want to be wherever you are."

Beneath him, Mox went still and quiet. 

He went still when he had realizations. Froze up as his entire world view changed and adjusted and righted itself in his head. Like a reset button, or something. It would have been funny if it wasn't so important.

But then he went lax beneath Bryan's weight. Heavy hands settled low on Bryan's back, dangerously low. "I guess I could get used to it," he murmured.

And that was—well, that was as good a declaration as Bryan had ever heard. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. If you're sure, then I guess I can be, too." He smoothed a palm down to give Bryan's ass a squeeze, "'Sides, I bet we could actually rock this thing if we tried hard enough."

He laughed, finally, relaxing into Mox's hands. "I think sinking wasn't the part you needed to worry about anyway."

Mox made an inquisitive sound, hands still kneading Bryan's ass.

"The neighbors definitely heard us last night."

Mox froze. For a few long seconds, he didn't even breathe. 

And then he shoved Bryan off and away, letting him bounce unceremoniously onto the mattress. "Nope, I was right, this is awful and you gotta sell it," he grumbled and resumed his search for his clothes. He muttered under his breath as he went, all manner of plans and ideas. A ranch, far from the city, with room for a couple more dogs and no neighbors for miles. A cabin deep in the woods, where they wouldn't be disturbed. 

A little place in the suburbs, with a patio and a yard and room for—with plenty of room.

And Bryan didn't think he'd ever been so happy. He laid back and watched Mox throw his little fit, laughing all the while. 

#aew fic #aew fanfiction #bryan danielson #jon moxley #moxbry #brymox

[aerodaltonimperial]

I would love any follow up scenes you are willing to give us.

Okay, here's some of that same night... 🥰

Hook has to hand it to Tony Khan: the man has stubbornness and tenacity in spades. Anyone else, when faced with one of your rather valuable wrestlers obtaining an injury bad enough to warrant stitches, would cancel the whole thing, but nope, not Khan. Hook expected to be shuttled immediately back down the mountain and instead, finds himself sitting around a campfire. With Adam Page strumming a guitar and singing folk songs.

What, and Hook cannot emphasize this enough, the fuck.

Sitting in the open air with the branches crackling a few feet away from him, all Hook can think of is that the woods are still out there; not five miles away, not safely tucked behind a fence, but right there, filled with more than one entity fully capable of pulling them apart, one muscle at a time, until the whole limb unravels. They should be running and alerting some kind of authority, and instead he is sitting on a wooden bench that's making his ass hurt while holding a metal spit hosting a marshmallow aloft.

What the actual fuck.

Hook glances at Danhausen, to his right. "Seriously?"

"Re-booking all these flights?" Danhausen shrugs. "Tony Elite would never. Not without solid proof."

"Darby took an arrow to the shoulder."

"Yes," Danhausen says, "and no one will ever believe us if we try to explain that."

Hook shakes his head. "This is how the whole thing works, huh. How all those...things manage to be out there. Because no one believes in them."

"People are like that." Danhausen smiles, though it's more of a grimace. "It's difficult to believe what you can't see for yourself."

The Elite have joined in with the song. It sounds like a bunch of stray cats yodeling into the night, and oh, Hook is absolutely not going to be able to handle any of this. He's so fucking exhausted. He tosses the metal spear, marshmallow and all, onto the dirt as he stands up. "I'm going to the cabin."

Cabin is a bit of a strong word, really, for the rudimentary structures that circle the fire pit, but it's better than being stuck in tents. Hook stomps his way to the door even though he knows that, from everyone else's perspective, he looks like a spoiled rich kid who doesn't want to sleep out in the wilderness with his coworkers. If only they knew.

The good thing about their rag-tag group being put together for the scavenger hunt means that they have also been placed together in the cabin. Each of the wooden buildings contains six rickety metal beds with little more than lump mattresses, three on each side, lined up against the wall. Hook stares at them as Danhausen enters the cabin behind him.

"Hook?" Danhausen asks.

Hook whirls past him, yanking the door open again that creaks and moans like a ghost in the night. He spots Anna and Julia immediately, but Jack and Darby take a few more moments. His motion must alert them, because within a few moments, all four are looking at him. Hook jerks his head towards the interior of the cabin.

When the six of them pack into the too-warm space, there's a lingering minute of quiet. Then, Jack says, "Oh fuck this, come on."

In tandem, he and Hook grab for the beds and yank them across the floor. It's loud; it must be loud outside, but maybe the off-tune singing drowns out the sound of metal shrieking against the floorboards. By the time they're finished, they've rearranged the six to form one long, unbroken line, with barely enough room at the walls to walk through.

Julia smiles. "I like it."

"Didn't think you liked us much," Hook says.

"That was before," she replies, and refuses to elaborate on, but Hook gets it. Something about shared trauma, right? The horror has etched itself down into their bones. They are connected now, like it or not.

They pile into the beds while the warbling sing-along continues outside, punctuated by laughter: Danhausen at one end, then Hook and Jack, followed by Darby and the girls. They made it, all of them, even with the worst sort of monsters snapping teeth at their heels.

Hook rolls, turning into Danhausen’s shoulder. He sighs against the other's neck. "Christ."

"Can't believe we're still here," Anna grumbles.

"Is there a threat, out here?" Jack asks, voice pitched low. "I mean, at the campsite."

"Probably not." Julia sighs. "Too many witnesses. And the woods still have a boundary, even if it's expanded somehow."

Danhausen’s fingers cord through Hook’s hair, infinitely gentle. In the wake of everything, the caress nearly brings tears to Hook’s eyes. He blinks back the sting. Against Hook’s temples, Danhausen whispers, "Danhausen thinks we are safe enough for tonight."

Hook cranes his chin over his shoulder to check if Jack heard and finds the other looking at him. Jack nods. Darby’s fingers, inked with skeletal outlines, play with the hem of Jack’s shirt, absent-minded. At the far end, illuminated by the fire outside that streams in through the badly-covered window, Anna and Julia have curled around each other like twin crescent moons.

For better or worse, they are all stuck with each other.

"Sleep," Danhausen murmurs. His breath tickles Hook’s forehead.

And Hook can't even fight the command, because his eyes were already settling closed, too heavy to keep open any longer.

#SO SELF INDULGENT OMG #JUST SHOOT ME NOOOOOOOW lol #tag so you don't lose this shit

[achubbydumpling]

A Little Extra: Too Fat For Furniture

Rating: Explicit Words: 1419 Pairing: None just Lee Additional Tags: Extreme Weight Gain, Mobility Struggles, Breaking Furniture, Diets (mentioned), but Lee doesn't lose any weight

[on AO3]

After getting shot and nearly bleeding out in a remote forest in the middle of nowhere Lee was less than eager to return to work. In his absence, one of his former deputies had campaigned to be elected Sheriff. Of course, he'd won.

Lee had been bitter the first few weeks, but slowly the blessing in disguise had revealed itself. Suddenly, Lee was to be pitied instead of hated. His poor sister and that terrible incident with the Russel boy.

It was like the whole town had forgotten about any of his unsavoury business from Before. Obviously, Lee took advantage of that.

It started when his neighbour brought over a pie.

"I know you boys don't cook well. I wouldn't want you starving after that tragedy!"

Lee was perfectly capable of feeding himself, but he wasn't about to decline free dessert.

"Aw, thank you, Ms Smith. You didn't have to but… yeah, you know what? I have been having some difficulty readjusting, you know?" Lee tacked on an awkward laugh for full effect, and it worked like a charm.

Ms Smith's expression softened, and she patted him on the shoulder.

"I know it's difficult. You know when my husband died…"

Listening to her blabber about her husband got on Lee's nerves quickly, but she promised to bring by some more food tomorrow.

With that, the flood gates were opened.

The whole town must've heard about what Lee said because they all came flocking to his house carrying platters and platters of food. Even after a month, a few stubborn souls stuck around to make sure he was well-fed. And it sure was showing.

He'd never been skinny or anything, but the bit of pudge around his middle blossomed into a full-on gut. A heavy ball that sat on his thighs and pushed out into his lap more with every day.

Lee made a few half-assed attempts at losing the weight.

No beer before bed or no desserts after dinner, but he rarely stuck with it longer than a week and any weight he did lose came back double or triple the week after that.

'Well-fed' quickly turned into 'fat'. Lee was slowly encroaching on a size that he hadn't ever seen on other people.

On one memorable call, he'd had to help a man weighing double what he did back then out of his tub. The guy had to have been 400lbs, maybe even closer to 450lbs.

Lee had crossed 300lbs after eight months of consistent feeding. After a year he was pushing closer to 350lbs than 300lbs, but he ended the year without crossing that boundary just yet.

Seeing that number on the scale shocked Lee back into dieting for two whole weeks. Food piled up in his fridge and freezer as he valiantly tried to stick to tiny portions. It all culminated in a two-day binge that ended with Lee pinned to his sofa.

He'd never really understood how someone could struggle to get to his feet, but he learned then. No matter how much he tried, his stomach hurt too much. His bloated belly got in the way and his puffy arms couldn't get any leverage on the battered sofa.

Lee had done a number on the sofa. A deep dent into the left side where he usually sat to watch TV (or stuff his face more frequently now). The small dining table had quickly gotten too uncomfortable for his growing gut and eventually, one of the foldable chairs had given out under his heft.

He'd struggled just to get up from the floor again. It was a humbling experience but with food still, on the table, Lee didn't think too much about it and just moved to the living room. Not like he could break his sofa, right?

Wrong.

It did take until Lee reached over 400lbs. His rickety, old sofa just wasn't made for this weight constantly torturing it. Sitting down normally had just gotten too much work and one of the supporting slats broke with a loud crack when Lee let himself fall down.

While it scared the hell out of Lee, he'd reached a sort of breaking point. There wasn't any use in losing weight now, right? And he'd surely plateau at some point. So, he still ate his breakfast.

Food deliveries had petered out a while ago. Once he'd really blown up no one wanted to keep feeding the fat (ex)-Sheriff, but his pension was good enough to keep up with his habit. He didn't need money for much else.

400lbs turned into 450lbs without him really noticing. Lee didn't think it was possible to gain 50lbs without so much as a creeping suspicion but sure enough, his (new) scale wasn't lying. His clothes were getting tighter too, but Lee had had enough foresight to get something with a bit more room.

A lot more room actually because his clothes held up until 500lbs. That's when the weight really hit him. He'd been struggling with lots of little things so far and slowly decreasing stamina, but it was like he'd crossed a magic boundary from being able to still do most things to struggling for breath while he was sitting on his ass (to eat another meal).

Things started getting really scary when Lee felt both sides of his sofa brushing his sides. No matter how he sat his wide hips and thick love handles were always brushing the sofa's arms.

Of course, that didn't slow a proper glutton down.

If anything, Lee increased his food intake. Some subconscious realisations that he was cutting his life short with every additional pound he gained, every hour he spent on his ass instead of exercising and every single, greasy bite he shoved past his lips. So, of course, he needed to make the best of the time he had left.

Lee committed to his lifestyle of hedonism, not just food-wise, but also by overindulging in his drinking, spending his pension instead of saving anything and getting even lazier. Most of his days were spent inside, but occasionally, he longed for a change of scenery and undertook the laborious trek outside.

Walking had become increasingly difficult, and his gait had turned into a shuffling waddle. The heavy bag on his shoulder didn't make it easier, but he couldn't imagine sitting outside without something to snack on and a few drinks.

Just lifting his feet exhausted him and his joints screamed at him with every lumbering step. But he made it out to the porch. It was a cool evening and Lee sighed when the breeze cooled his overheated skin.

However, that moment of relief wasn't enough to cut through the pain of walking and standing. He spotted the porch swing not too far away. He hadn't been out here in a few months, so it looked a bit run down, but the wood looked sturdy enough. Surely, it could hold him. He dropped the bag full of food right in front of the swing.

Then, Lee tried to sit down as gently as possible but at his size that wasn't really an option. He crashed down onto the wooden bench and while it groaned underneath his weight, it held.

For a moment.

Just as Lee started to trust the construction of the porch swing and started to relax one of the chains to his right creaked with an ominous tone. A second later it snapped, and Lee was dumped to the ground.

The porch shook under the impact. Lee's first instinct was to get back to his feet, but the walk outside had exhausted him so much, that he took the opportunity to finally catch his breath.

Dread set in at the realization of how fat he'd let himself get. Every meal flashed before him, but before he could dwell on it the urgent need to breathe took over his mind again. Wheezing gulps of breath that still didn't seem to fill his lungs. His chest was too heavy for them to fully expand.

It took some time before he could concentrate on anything but breathing. Lee was still wheezing a bit now, but to his delight, he spotted the bag he'd nearly crushed. It was squished against his leg and Lee actually struggled a bit to reach around to grab a package of sugar cookies.

Once he crammed his mouth full of cookies all those negative thoughts vanished, and Lee fell back into the mindless consumption that had gotten him into this situation.

#Extreme Weight Gain #Mobility Struggles #Breaking Furniture #Diets (mentioned) #but Lee doesn't lose any weight tho #Get Beached #Get Beached 2022 #Too Fat for Furniture

[ungusthebungus]

Your Friend's Boyfriend Part 2 (Hisoka x F OC, F OC & F OC)

Rating: E

Fandom: HxH

Relationship: Hisoka x F OC, F OC & F OC

Characters: Hisoka, F OC

Additional Tags: Best Friends, Texting, Concern, Muscles, Boyfriends, Pizza, Brownies, Flirting, Jealousy, Horror Movie, Stomach Ache, Ice Cream, Cheating, Gags, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Not Canon Compliant, Self-Insert, Self-Indulgent, No Research

Summary:

Annie finally arrives at her friend's house and meets Hisoka.

It was about 5 pm when Annie reached her friend’s house. Before opening the door, she took a minute to calm herself down in her car. Suddenly, she remembered that she had pepper spray in the middle section. Reaching way down past old receipts and coins, she finally found it. Quickly, she shoved it into her purse and calmly exited the vehicle.

After her friend’s grandmother died, she inherited this cute house with three bedrooms. It’s perfect if she ever wanted a family. Otherwise, she could just use it for hobbies or spare bedrooms.

As Annie walked up the rickety steps, she took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell. She heard a bit of rustling behind the door, so she assumed she was busy with something. Finally, the door swung open revealing Mona and her…

Annie stared at Mona’s new boyfriend with her mouth open. He definitely looked taller than in the photos. Although he was still in his strange clothes, she was more focused on his muscles. For a second, she wondered what his workout schedule was like.

Mona called out her name, bringing Annie’s attention to her.

“Oh, hey! Sorry for coming so suddenly. I just wanted to see how you were doing.” She said, looking at the ground. Why the hell was she feeling so shy now?

“I told him about your concerns already and he also wanted to meet you.” Mona looked up at him and smiled.

He brought out his long nailed hand.

“Hisoka. A pleasure to meet you ♥ ” He purred, staring directly into Annie’s eyes. He still had those golden eyes that were present in those photos. Does he seriously wear contacts all the time?

“Cool eyes. Are those contacts?” Annie asked, which caused him to chuckle.

“No, darling. These are real~” He told her, placing an arm around her friend. Mona blushed as she leaned into his chest.

Bullshit. There was no way in hell those were real. Those were the eyes of a crazy anime character that killed people for pleasure.

“So are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna come in?” Mona offered. Annie leaned down to grab her bag, but it disappeared.

“Oh. While you were staring off into space, Hisoka took your bag into one of the spare bedrooms. The bed’s a bit old and loud, but at least you don’t have to sleep on the floor.” Mona gestured for Annie to come in, so she finally entered the house.

As the both of them came in, Hisoka was walking down the steps.

“Shit! I forgot to thaw that chicken for dinner tonight!” She grabbed her head with frustration.

On cue, Hisoka brought out a debit card.

“Don’t worry, dear,” He said as he placed the card into her hands. “Why not buy some pizza?”

Mona mouthed something along the lines of “Isn’t he the best” as she rushed towards her computer. Even though Annie still was unsure of him, she had to admit that paying for food was kind of cool. It was a bit weird that they just started dating and he already trusted Mona with his card.

As Annie and Hisoka walked into the living room, she was focused on his ass. It was bigger than the average male’s. Was he really blessed with a huge butt or did he have implants?

“So how was your trip?” He asked, catching her a bit off guard.

“It was alright. Not very eventful.” Annie answered.

He still had that smile on his face as he sat on the couch.

“What does everyone want on the pizza?” Mona yelled from the other room.

“I’m fine with anything!” Annie yelled back.

“Same with me, dear ♥ ” Hisoka stretched his arms out, purposefully flexing his muscles.

Feeling heat rise to her face, she turned her face away. This was going to be a long night.

Note: If you liked the story, feel free to give me a kudos! :)

#hisoka #hisoka morow #hxh #hunter x hunter #hisoka x f oc #hisoka morow x f oc #f oc & f oc #your friend's boyfriend

[martyrmurdock]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘

♡ pairing: frank castle x gn reader

♡ word count: 1k

♡ tags: fluff, sweetheart used as a petname

It’s the dead of night. Even in the city that never sleeps, there is a time when the vast majority of residents are asleep, peacefully slumbering in the safety of their homes and dreaming of fanciful, far-off things. A time when there is a lull in the typical bustle of New York City, where only a small handful of people are still awake.

You are one of those few individuals. Frank is too.

You’re unsure of what the exact time is. The batteries for the small digital alarm clock you have on your nightstand died a while back, and you haven’t gotten around to replacing them just yet. You keep putting off the simple task. You’re also too lazy to roll over and grab your phone to check the time, but you don’t have work tomorrow morning, so you don’t worry too much about it.

Instead, you take the opportunity to shamelessly admire Frank.

The warm glow of the lamp resting on the old nightstand by what’s wordlessly known as Frank’s side of the bed casts long shadows onto his face. The yellowish light softens the rough angles of his roguish features. He’s propped up on the rickety bed, a fluffed-up pillow supporting his lower back as he leans against the wooden headboard to read the book you recently recommended to him.

He’s forgone a shirt, something that you can’t quite wrap your head around since it’s freezing but something you appreciate nonetheless. The view is rather nice, after all. Your eyes trace over the scars and blemishes marring his skin, lazily following the lines of his abs.

“You should take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Frank quips, breaking the comfortable silence that’s blanketed over you both. He must have felt the heat of your gaze on him because Frank’s attention has solely been on the book in his large, calloused hand. You would know since you’ve been watching him this entire time.

A low hum forms in the back of your throat. You take your sweet time scanning over Frank’s resting form before your eyes land on his face. “Maybe, I will,” you respond, fond amusement slipping into your tone.

His eyes don’t stray from the novel, but the corners of his lips quirk up into a hint of a smile. A win, you internally celebrate. There’s nothing you love more than a smile gracing Frank’s face.

“Is that so?”

He lowers the book slightly and tilts his head to look down at you. You shoot a smile at him and your heart stutters at how his eyes crinkle and soften in return. Shifting your position on the mattress, you prop yourself up with an arm and inch closer to Frank.

“Mhm,” you say, dragging a mindless finger down Frank’s firm chest. You revel in how goosebumps form on his skin. Not cold, your ass. “How else am I going to be able to capture how pretty you look right now?”

“Pretty?” A bark of abrupt laughter escapes Frank and his chest rumbles beneath your touch. “You think I’m pretty, sweetheart?” Frank manages between his bouts of laughter, amusement ringing loud and clear in his low voice.

A pout begins to form on your lips at the fact that Frank is obviously not taking you seriously. You sit up, tucking your knees underneath your bottom and folding your arms in front of your chest. His laughter dies down after you toss a glare lacking any real heat his way, but by the expression on his face, Frank is clearly taking enjoyment in your current state.

“Course I think you’re pretty Frankie, have you seen yourself?” you playfully scoff, unfolding your arms to exaggeratedly gesture for effect. Another round of deep laughter rumbles through Frank’s chest at your theatrics. Eventually, you both settle down, and with a soft, fond smile, your hands find their way to Frank’s face, your palms coming to cup his cheeks. The stubble growing along the lower half of his face prickles beneath your skin. “You’re beautiful,” you murmur, almost reverently.

Frank stills under your touch, and you worry that you may have made a grave error. Hastily, you pull your hands away from Frank’s face and place them on your upper thighs. Your fingers nervously fiddle with the bottom hem of your sleep shorts. “Sorry,” you apologize, averting your gaze to look at the thread-bare sheets that cover your mattress, which are all of a sudden super interesting to you.

Silence fills the air. It’s stifling and uncomfortable, and you’re on the verge of opening your mouth again to ramble about something, anything, just to fill the quietness when Frank responds.

He places a large, calloused hand over the back of yours, and you wonder how these hands can be the cause of so much violence when he touches you so gently. “It’s alright,” he awkwardly comforts you. “Just caught me off-guard.”

You snort, raising your head to meet Frank’s gaze. Your eyes widen when you take in his appearance again. “Frank Castle, are you...blushing?”

It’s Frank’s turn to avert his gaze. “No,” he decisively says.

A wide smile stretches across your cheeks because despite what he says, Frank Castle is 100% blushing. It’s not terribly noticeable with the low lighting, but you can make out a slight flush covering his cheeks.

“Mhm,” you nod, entirely unconvinced. “That’s right, I forgot. The big, bad Punisher doesn’t blush,” you tease, leaning in closer to Frank until your nose brushes against his. 

Frank’s eyes immediately dart back to yours after you poke fun at him. A retort lies on the tip of his tongue, but it dies out when he sees the warm, affectionate look in your gaze. He places his hands on your hips, prompting you to rest the majority of your weight on his lap.

“Damn right,” he quietly exhales before closing the small gap between you to slot his lips over yours.

You can’t help but smile against his lips.

Moments like these where Frank lets his guard down even just a little bit and relaxes are rare. They’re the ones you’ve come to cherish the most.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #the punisher x reader #the punisher x you #frank castle imagine #frank castle x gn reader #frank castle x gender neutral reader #the punisher x gn reader #the punisher x gender neutral reader #martyr writes #saint.frank castle

[tomsparkyr]

i have this idea sjndjs (^^)

Maybe reader discovering that Peter is Spiderman when she is waiting for him in his room to do some school project and he enters through the window with cuts and bruises all over his body ¿ And is just alot of fluff and shy/cute Peter (i imagine this escenario with Andrew!Peter but i think it works for any other peter) :3

𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐖 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊, 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍!

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

summary: when it turns out your nerdy friend is the spiderman, you really think the school project is important anymore?

masterlist.

andrew!peter parker x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, shy-ish peter, cuts and bruises, injuries from spiderman duties, just kinda cute :(

this is SO bad i apologise☹️

don’t steal any of my work, thanks!

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𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 twenty-six minutes was how long you had been waiting. About 3/4 of that time was spent with your head buried in the palms of your hands, you had gotten bored of counting the seconds on your watch.

Your hair was spread across his desk, pens scattered randomly from flicking them away for a total of 20 minutes. The school project that required two people was flung on the floor at this point, the staple holding the pieces of paper together barely holding on.

To say Peter Parker was late would be an understatement.

Why would you have thought for one second that your friend would ever turn up on time; considering he had bailed way more than once in many situations. He had promised like tons of times before, yet leaving you alone in his small room to stare at the unfinished project by yourself.

Your fingers tapped on the hardwood desk in a rhythm, thoughts flowing on whether you should leave now or deal with a half-assed apology on Peter’s behalf. Whenever he returned, he would always seem tired, his body constantly yearning for the covers on his bed; only allowing you to feel awkward in the corner as his body would collapse dramatically onto his rickety bed.

The black, nearly empty, pen was held so loosely between your fingers; the object balancing slightly as it tapped continuously on the varnished desk. The tapping soon felt like a timer, a clock ticking down the time as if you were staring at one. You only allowed what your body wanted at this point, you had given up on control long before, about time to give your muscles a rest from hunching over for the loop of hours without Peter turning up.

Just as your eyelids fell to close, a loud bang on the fire escape window made your body jolt suddenly and fall off the chair. Peter’s head was lent against the window, breathing heavily with the glass steaming up under his pants.

Peter had yet to notice you, your body was no longer in eye line and led on the scruffy carpet. Your head perked up at the sound of Peter falling face first through the pushed up window, an outfit of bright blue and red causing your brows to furrow in his blur of motion. Grunts slipped from his lips as he tripped over the school bag he had dumped there hours before his Spiderman duties.

He hopped on one leg clumsily as he tore off the right, tight shoe of his suit; carelessly throwing the object against his wall to ultimately land on your head, a hollow sound racking through his bedroom. “Ow!” You mumbled as the bottom of the shoe smacked in the corner of your head.

Peter jumped in shock of someone else in the room, flying so high that he flipped onto the ceiling, hands and feet attached to the flaking roof. His head hung low and span around in search for the noise, eyes bearing down to see your body underneath a fallen chair and hair spread across the floor.

“Y/N?” Peter gasped, pointing to you with his mouth agape. “Peter?” You pointed back, mouth dropped open with a beaming smile coating your blushing cheeks.

His body fell to the floor with a thud and walked towards your tensed body with his shoe in your hand, flailing about. His feet sped up and ran towards your rising form from the floor, your hair messed up and skin glowing.

Peter’s face came up close to yours, his height towering over yours. His hands were shaking as they quickly lifted to your head, brushing down the ecstatic hair and collecting it behind your ears. “What? What- What are you?” He stumbled over his words and vigorously licked his lips, making the skin go raw.

Your breaths were heavy and your cheeks hurt from the hard smile dominating your emotions. “You’re- You’re-“ Your hands trailed down from his wrists and slid to the tears in his suit, casually ignoring the feeling of his toned abs under the tight a-tire.

His suit had three long tares in it, flesh ripped, blood dried and some not over his paling skin. His body seemed weak, falling into your feather light touch as his headache became more painful by the second.

“You’re hurt!” Your smiled dropped in an instant, attention switched to his physical state in comparison to your adoration that your best friend is the spiderman! “I’m fine, I’m fine.” The words were forced out, pain swelling in the waving sound of his voice.

“Peter, please.” You muttered, moving your hands to his pale cheeks. Small cuts and bruises scattered all over his beautiful face.

His eyes looked into yours, eyelids hooded and sniffles sounding from his running nose. Peter’s lips wobbled with sobs begging to release, a state of vulnerability so close to the edge that he began to lose himself in the attention of you.

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“So you’re telling me that you fought an actual Lizard?”

“The Lizard was actually that, oh god, remember him? The- the scientist guy from Oscorp!” Peter laughed with his forehead pressed against yours, bandages now secured onto his wounds and an ice pack pressed firmly onto the back of his head.

Adorable laughs slipped from your lips, body hunching over doing so. Peter’s hand were wrapped around your own, the warmth seeping onto your skin, sending butterflies throughout your body. Peter shook his head against your own, noses bumping together along with both of your glowing red cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N” Peter whispered, breathe mingling with your own; lips so close to touching but a feeling of distance between you both. “Could say the same about you, Spiderman.” You giggled before moving closer to him.

Your lips were brushing against Peter’s, bodies pressed together and hands entangled together. His lips collapsed on yours, the connection slow and passionate. His hands slipped to your face, stroking your cheekbone so delicately; afraid of seeing you break under any of his pressure. The feeling of his tongue slipping into your mouth made you gasp, his body leaning over yours slightly, himself smirking into the heated kiss.

He pulled away quickly, “We-we, uh, we need to do that school project.”

Your shook your head, “Screw homework, you’re Spiderman!” And then pulled him down on top of you to rest your head on his pillows, Peter hovering over you; giddy that he finally scored the girl of his dreams.

this is so so so bad i’m so sorry FORGIVE ME

taglist:

@bionic-donut ut @lizzieann143 @fangirling-throughlife @druigss @bunkybarnesbxtch h @captainbarness @wnters-deactivated20211227 s @phoenix27xoxo o @luckypogue @snowfrostedfox @thatweirdbigirl @secretjeon @sage-bun @andrewgarfieldsbae @forever-and-more @bunnietoof @tired-ass-show-girl @dsl1999 @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern @tinktohispan @urthereasonimleaving @simp4fictionmen @1-800-drugged @captainquake42 @maggiethemotherbitch @marianthephantoms @mobiusismyfav @arabellelancastersstuff @chenellearose @secretsicanthideanymore @uglyasswoman @vx-vexedvixen @lia-andari i @lover1307 @mssrs-padfoot @jasemaja @cyanide-mustard @evasmlp @karltoshaw @caswinchester2000 @tsukishimawhore e @weasleytwinscumslut @flymeaway-karasuno @morgane-stark @panicatwakanda @krishavania @lavendersfairy @jessica2008 @ancailinaerach @softmullet @jemimah-b99 @elarasstardust @fxnfandxmmp4 @moo-b1tch @wolfstcr @lizzieandjosiesaltzman @lendeluxe @yurys-pyon @marrigold-2002 @whataprettyshadeofred

#andrew!peter x reader #andrew garfield #spiderman angst #andrew garfield x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker x you #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker #nwh spoilers #spiderman nwh #spiderman x reader #spiderman

[shigarakisbabyy]

Health- Villain!AllMight x Gender Neutral Reader

Hello! This was another request I got, for the reader to take care of villain!allmight due to his poor health. In this, All Might is in the league of villains, and uses the name All Smite. I kept his personality generally the same. I hope you all like it!

Warnings: injuries

You set your phone down next to you on the floor, your arm hanging off the edge of the couch you laid on. You were so fucking bored. You hadn’t been on a mission in weeks, all that you could do was chill around the base or hang out with your boyfriend, and as much as you loved him you also loved kicking hero ass too.

You sighed and sat up, shoving your phone into your back pocket and walking through the hallways, planning on going back to your room. Not that it was much, a plain white bed with stained sheets and even whiter walls. The only other piece of furniture you had was a brown dresser that was so rickety and ancient you couldn’t even open the drawers.

You passed the bathroom, planning on walking right by until you heard the loud sounds of pained coughing coming from within. You stopped in your track and stared at the door, hearing someone suck in air through their teeth as they winced, followed by more coughing.

You pushed open the door, seeing your boyfriend hunched over the sink, his shirt pulled up as he gripped a large, infected-looking wound on his side. You sharply inhaled as you stared at the terrible gash on his side, how did he even get it?

“O-oh,” All Smite coughed, “Hello dear.”

“Save the niceties for later,” You snapped, “What’s wrong?”

You quickly rushed to his side when he started to topple over, helping his sit down on the edge of the bathtub.

“I just have an injury from a fight with a hero, it happened long ago. No need to worry,” He reassured.

“Injury my ass, this shit should’ve landed you in the hospital,” You scolded, “Do you not bandage it?”

“No, I never felt the need to,” Smite admitted.

“Right,” You sighed, “Well you’re bandaging it now, go lay down on my bed and I’ll grab the cleaning and bandage shit.”

“It’s really not necess-“

“Now.”

All Smite sighed and got up, stretching and cracking his back before stumbling off towards your room. You quickly grabbed the ace bandages, along with wound cleaning supplies and healing ointment out from underneath the sink.

You scurried off toward your room, kicking open the door with your foot and setting the supplies down next to your bed. Smite sat on the edge, fiddling with his thumbs in his lap.

“Why are you so nervous?” You asked.

“None of your concern,” He said.

“Like hell it is, in case you forgot you’re my boyfriend,” You snapped.

“Right- sorry,” Smite apologized.

“No need to apologize,” You sighed, picking up a wet rag and lifting up his shirt.

You gently dabbed at his skin, cleaning up dried blood and various other liquids that surrounded the area. He winced whenever you pressed the rag to his skin, so you gave him one of your hands to squeeze on to.

“You don’t think of me as more vulnerable now,” He asked, “Do you?”

You stopped what you were doing and stared at him.

“Of course I don’t,” You reassured, gently cupping his face, “I’m just angry at whatever hero did this to you.”

You pressed a light kiss to his cheek and then got back to cleaning. You took your time, and then grabbed the healing ointment and applied it generously over the area.

You grabbed the ace bandages and quickly wrapped it around his torso, tight but not too tight. When you finished you pulled his shirt back down and set your hand on his back.

“Thank you,” All Smite muttered.

“Your welcome,” You replied, giving him a gentle kiss.

#bnha #mha #All smite #villain all might #villain!allmight #all might x reader #all might x gender neutral #all might x gender neutral reader #all might x male #all might x male reader #all might x fem #all might x fem reader #all might

[teyvattherapist]

Sex is great and all but I really just want a hug, to feel loved and happy, something I don't really have. I feel so stressed and useless, empty and that I'm just not enough. I can't work or do anything because of the way I feel, even though I want to. I just want someone to be there for me who I can finally open up to and will listen, be there for me, even if I don't want to talk, holding me in their arms where I can just let go and cry. Being told that I am loved and enough.

Could I perhaps request the reactions of Dainsleif and Gorou to their s/o saying that?

a/n: I hope you enjoy this! <3 sorry my banner sizes are weird</3

tags: gn!readerxDainsleif, gn!readerxGorou, Inazuma spoilers, hurt/comfort, some strong dudes bein soft beans, not proofread o/

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You finally finished venting your frustrations to the tree at Windrise, taking a deep breath. It didn’t fix the problems, but it did make you feel immensely better to get your thoughts out into the world. Though you couldn’t help the bitter chuckle as you looked up at the old tree, lit up by the fireflies and crystalflies. “I’m talking to a tree of all things.” You rub your face as you lean back on your legs, eyes gazing up the massive tree.

“I do wish you’d come to me when you were feeling this way.”

“Barbatos! Dainsleif?!” You pressed a hand to your chest as the blond rounded the trunk of the tree, a frown on his face, whether from your previous words or the instinctive shout of Barbatos’ name, who knows. “What are you doing here?” You quickly stood, brushing off your pants as he drew closer. His cape blew in the gentle wind and the tree rustled around you, if he were a stranger, he’d be far more intimidating.

Dainsleif held a hand out and you took it, only for him to pull you closer to him. “You’ve been distant lately, I was merely checking up on you.” You raised an eyebrow at him, and you didn’t have to wait long for him to avert his gaze. “Okay, I followed you because I was worried.” There we go. Dainsleif sighed, bringing his free hand up to your cheek, gently brushing his thumb over your skin.

“I am worried, though. I did not intend to impose, but I did hear everything.” From his words it was your turn to avert your eyes, you hadn’t particularly intended for him to hear that. “I..” Dainsleif seemed at a loss for words in the moment. A rarity for the man who often had something to say about everything. “I’m sorry that I’m not around as much as you may need.” He let go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist instead.

“It’s fine-”

“Is it?” Dainsleif sighed softly as he moved to properly hug you. Careful of his armour, you rested your head against his shoulder. “You’re the first person I’ve loved in centuries. And I don’t want you to be in this relationship feeling like you have been.” Between his warm grip against the cold wind and his soft voice, you weren’t sure when you had started to cry. “Nothing matters to me as much as making you happy. So long as we are together, it is my purpose.”

And for a few minutes he grew quiet, rubbing your back and rocking you softly in his arms. Dainsleif’s shaky inhale was lost to the wind as he gripped you just a little bit tighter. “Let’s go home. We’ll talk more there, okay?” He released you, quickly turning his head to look around. Despite the quick action, you swore you saw the faintest of glistening on his visible cheek.

Gorou listened as you ranted, pacing his small room at the Resistance camp as you spoke. Once you finished you stopped, letting out a deep breath. The distant sound of rain filled the quiet room as you began to wring your hands. Had you said too much? The man stood, a reassuring smile on his face as he took you into his arms. A loud crack of thunder brought you back to the moment, melting into his grip.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” His teal eyes twinkled as you met his eyes. His ears twitched when someone walked near the door. His eyes flicked to the door, but the person walked by, and he looked back to you. “Sex is great and all, but being in your arms is better anyways.” He teased gently, giving you a squeeze.

Gorou began walking backward towards the bed in the room, gently tugging you along with him. “Gorou, we have work to do first. I was just stressed-” You were cut off by Gorou dragging you down into the rickety old bed with him. Despite being so small, the fox man was strong as he pulled you onto his chest, arms claiming their rightful place around your waist.

“I love you, and I will tell you for the rest of the evening that you’re far from useless.”

“But..”

Gorou shushed you, pressing a kiss to your nose. It was the middle of the night, he could spare some time. More than some. From the closeness and position you could hear his heart beating in his chest. Not too fast, not too slow, but heavy beats as he held you against him, rubbing circles into your back.

“You should have seen Teppei earlier, he fell on his ass in some mud. Absolutely covered.” The general’s words made you smile as you buried your face against his chest. He spoke of the recent meetings with Kokomi, his patrols, his day, just anything to get your head off of the negative feelings you’d been having.

He’d never admit it, but being part canine meant he was far more attuned to your emotions then he let on. Occasionally, Gorou would sprinkle in some praise for you, hiding it within longer rambles so you couldn’t deny his loving words. He was very persistent when he wanted to be. This included and was certainly not limited to his love for you.

#Dainsleif x reader #Gorou x reader #Dainsleif #Gorou #Genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #Lane Writes #Asks #Anonymous