#but I would never call you names or start a fight over it unless you’re being rude

[ba9go]

(nsfw) bakugou katsuki finds you annoying (you drive him crazy)

mdni 🔞 katsuki being down bad for reader. heavy petting with a lot of sexual tension! 🫢

can be read with part 1 and part 2, or as a standalone too

after coming to terms with his feelings for you, bakugou thought that things would get simpler for him.

he was wrong. very wrong.

the two of you started spending more and more time together. eating lunch together, visiting each other's room after school, going to the gym together.

at some point, bakugou became "katsuki" to you.

"kat-su-ki," you said slowly, dragging his name out as if every syllable was meant to irk him. bakugou freezes, sitting cross-legged in front of you on your bed.

"katsuki." you repeat, watching him carefully with a small, tentative smile that makes his palms annoyingly sweaty. "is that okay?"

"yeah." bakugou, no, katsuki, clears his throat, and runs a hand through his hair. "katsuki's fine."

you ask katsuki to spend the night in your dorm room, and though katsuki disagrees with you calling it a sleepover (to him, it's not a sleepover unless there are face masks and pillow fights involved, but he's not telling you that) katsuki finds it hard to say no to you.

later, you fall asleep in his arms, breathing softly against his chest, and katsuki thinks he's going to die from how hard his heart is beating against his ribcage.

he stares into the darkness and tries to fall asleep, but all he can think about is how soft you feel against his body and the way your warm breath gave him goosebumps when you whispered "goodnight, katsuki" into his neck.

katsuki thinks you’ve ruined his own name for him, because now he doesn’t want to hear it unless it’s coming from you. and god, the things he would do to hear you say his name, over and over and over again.

katsuki wants to. he wants so badly, to make you say his name over and over again, and he thinks it would be so easy to do too. you’re easy to fluster, easy to tease. katsuki wants to make you come apart at his touch, under him. katsuki wants to take you, piece by piece, wants to watch the way you unravel before him.

it gets worse when you started stealing katsuki’s shirts.

katsuki’s heart damn near burst when he came back to his room after the gym to see you cuddled up in his bed, completely engulfed in one of his shirts. he closed the door behind him quietly and stared at your peaceful sleeping face. ‘this must be what cuteness aggression feels like’, katsuki thinks, as he’s hit with the sudden urge to reach over and bite your face off.

he feels stupid, sneaking around in his own room as he tries his best not to wake you and fails miserably. he freezes as you stir awake, sitting up in his bed. your hair is sticking out in ways that katsuki wants to make fun of you for, but he’s too transfixed on the little yawn you let out as you stretch like a content house cat on his bed.

“katsuki,” you murmur, rubbing your eyes groggily. you smile at katsuki and it’s so sleepy and a little droopy and it drives katsuki fucking crazy, and you don’t even know it. god, you piss him off.

“you’re back,” you say sweetly. “you gonna shower?”

“i should shower,” katsuki responds, but makes no move to prepare for said shower. instead, he walks over to his bed, to you, and you open your arms invitingly and how could katsuki ever deny you?

he lets you wrap your arms around his torso and bury your face into his chest. he’s still sweaty from working out, but here you are, nuzzling into his shirt, again like a damn cat that’s all too affectionate. you hum happily when katsuki pats your head.

“you smell so good,” you moan the words into his shirt. it’s innocent, but it drives katsuki insane all the same. he can never think straight when it comes to you, not when you’re all he can think about. his head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, and he never knows what to do with himself.

“i’m dirty,” katsuki’s throat is so dry when he chokes out the words.

“so?” you giggle as you look up at him with big, happy eyes, and katsuki is fully reduced to putty in your hands. he’s wrapped around your pretty little finger. “i like it when you’re dirty.”

“yeah?” katsuki lets his hand fall to your neck. he holds your neck gently, barely even squeezing, but the effect it has on you is instantaneous. you become almost limp in his hold, eyes half-lidded as you let out a shaky sigh from your parted lips.

“‘suki,” you whisper. “come here,” you say, but you already have him in your arms, so katsuki presses his lips against yours instead.

katsuki never really knows what to do when it comes to you; he just knows how much he wants you, how you drive him crazy with want, so he listens to those desires until he has you moaning into his mouth when he sucks on your tongue, until he has you rutting your hips back and forth when he slips a leg between your thighs, until he has you coming apart the way he’s always fantasised.

“thank you, ‘suki,” you sound so pretty breathless and it makes katsuki want to steal your breath away even more. “feels so good.” katsuki realises that you’re still grinding against him and it’s so, so adorable.

“yer so annoyin’,” katsuki scolds you lightly, but the smirk on his face is anything but annoyed as he slips a hand between your legs and touches you properly, right where you need it most.

it’s so fucking annoying, the way you drive him insane, but watching you twitch and writhe under him, listening to you beg and moan, so pretty and needy for him, katsuki thinks it’s not so bad, being batshit crazy for you.

maybe part 4. i need to write a bratty yn who loves talking smack just to piss kats off so he’ll fuck em harder 🤪🤪

taglist (thank you for your support!!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @valeriyaaak @v3n7s @deimosjay @zaiban2989 @girls-overflower @notmeduhh @dreamcastgirl99 @busdriver-move-that-ass @atashiboba @kathsuhki @armeenix @channnee @antiwhores @sukunasbottomlefteyeball @kenqki @vikizzy @thesimpybitch @eempxth @hanta-seros-wifey @itztaki @thekidscallmebosss

[anim-ttrpgs]

Why I Dislike PbtA Games, and How Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is Their Opposite

@tender-curiosities

It is no secret that I hate PbtA games.

Though due to a recent misunderstanding regarding another post, I’m going to preface this post by saying that this is going to be a very opinionated post and

I do not seriously think that PbtA games are inherently bad, though I may sometimes joke about this.

While I do often question the taste of people who make and play PbtA hacks, I do not think poorly of their moral character.

While I am going to call for PbtA to be used less as a base for games in the future, I’m not saying that the whole system and all games based on it should be destructified. It’s good for what it’s good for, but unless you’re doing that, I really think you should use something else.

Now that that is out of the way, here’s what I have to say about it.

My first experiences with PbtA games were pretty rough. Monster of the Week was not the first, but it was one of the first ‘indie’ TTRPGs I played after having previously played mostly only D&D3.5e and 5e. I really appreciated that the use of 2D6 over a D20 meant that the dice results would be more predictable, and I really liked the various “classes” I was seeing. (At this time, I didn’t really understand that they weren’t really “classes” at all, though I think I can be forgiven for this because many people, even people who like PbtA games, still talk like “classes” and “playbooks” are interchangeable.)

I was very enthusiastic to play, until it came time to start actually “making” a character, and found that I couldn’t “make” a character. I wanted to make a nuanced, three-dimensional PC who was simultaneously stereotype-affirming and stereotype-defying, with a unique backstory and dynamic with the other characters—but when I went to actually fill out the character sheet for basically any “class”, I found that most of the backstory and most of the personality for my character was being set for me by the playbook. It felt like the only thing about the character I really had a say in was their name, and that two PCs of the same playbook would actually turn out to be almost identical characters. At the time, I thought this was very restrictive and very bad design.

Later, now that I understand the design intent behind it, I still think of it as very restrictive, but I think of it as very bad design for me, not inherently bad.

When I play a TTRPG, I want more freedom in who my PC is. That doesn’t mean I want less rules, in fact having more rules can often increase freedom, but that’s a different post. I want to create original, unique characters, that I won’t see anywhere else. If it’s a class-based system, I want that class to barely touch the details of my character’s backstory or personality, so that I can come up with something original and engaging for why and how this “Fighter” fights. This means that two level-1 Fighters, despite having almost the same mechanical abilities, will potentially be very different people.

PbtA games don’t let you do that. In a lot of PbtA games, you’re not playing your own original character, you’re playing someone else’s character, that every other player that has picked up the same playbook before you has played. It’s more like “character select” than “character creation.” I think I could liken it to playing Mass Effect or The Witcher. Every player may pick a few different dialogue choices in those games that change the story, but we’re still all playing Shepherd or Geralt. No one is going to experience a new never-before-seen story in Mass Effect or The Witcher, which is very much a factor of them being video games and not TTRPGs, and therefore limited to the amount of code, writing, and voice-acting that can go into them.

This anonymous asker who sent a message to @thydungeongal seems to feel pretty similarly to me about PbtA games, and @thydungeongal's response is a very good response about how people find this appealing.

I have more respect for PbtA now than I did, but I still don't like it because to me it seems to play so much against what I consider to be the strengths of TTRPGs as a medium, much like how video games like The Last of Us and David Cage games play against the strengths of the medium of video games, and I will never like it. But other people clearly do, so to each their own.

Then another reason I don’t like it is because I think it’s oversaturating the TTRPG space. I’ve referred to PbtA before as “indie D&D5e”, and i do think that’s a reasonable comparison, because in much the same way that you always hear “D&D5e is a system that can do everything”, I think a lot of people seem to be under the impression that the PbtA system is a system that can do anything. It’s kinda the système du jour for indie TTRPGs right now, and many iterations of it make it clear that many designers do not consider how PbtA differs from more traditional TTRPGs, and how it is specialized for different types of TTRPG gameplay. Just like how I feel PbtA isn’t playing to certain important strengths of TTRPGs, I think that many—maybe even most—PbtA hacks don’t play to the strengths of PbtA. But this isn’t really PbtA’s fault, that comes down to any individual indie TTRPG developer on a case-by-case basis. And the cure for that is something I’m always saying: If you are going to be a writer, you have got to read lots of books. If you are going to be a director, you have got to watch lots of movies. If you are going to be a video game developer, you have got to play lots of video games. And if you are going to be a TTRPG designer, you have got to read and play lots of TTRPGs. That and you have to understand that TTRPGs are specialized. Even "agnostic" systems like PbtA are somewhat specialized, and therefore might really not be a great fit for the game you’re trying to make.

That and, to get more subjective again, there’s like an ocean of them, and I don’t even like the ones that are actually good.

Now that I’ve talked about how I don’t like PbtA games, I’m gonna talk about a game I do like: Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy. Obviously, I like it because I’m the lead writer for it, but I would also like it even if I wasn’t the lead writer for it, because it’s just my kinda game. Eureka is the opposite of a PbtA game. I wrote it to play to what I feel are the strengths of the TTRPG medium.

Eureka’s character creation uses personality traits as a mechanical element of the character, but it does so in a deliberately freeform way. You build your character’s personality out of a list of traits, so who your character is is very much linked to what your character can do, but we aren’t just handing you a pre-made character.

Eureka is designed to incentivize organic decision-making by the PCs, most often by the mechanics of the game mirroring the world they live in. Every mechanic aims to create situations wherein “what will the PC do next?” is a question whose answer can be predicted - it doesn’t need to be ordained by a playbook.

One of my favorite examples of this is, rather than a “Fear Check” forcing the PC to run away if they fail, or “Run Away from Danger” being a “Move” on their character sheet, Eureka opts for the Composure mechanic. The really short version is that one of the main things that lowers a PC’s Composure is encountering scary stuff, and the lower a PC’s Composure, the more likely they are to fail skill checks, and the more likely they are to fail skill checks, well, the less brave they and their player probably feel about them standing up to this scary monster. So if the PC has low Composure, they are more likely to choose to run away. The lower their Composure, the better idea that will seem.

This system really really shines when it comes to monster PCs in Eureka. Most monsters benefit a lot more from having high Composure, but have fewer ways to restore Composure than mundane PCs. Their main way to restore their Composure is by eating people. The rulebook never says “your monster PC has to eat people”, but more likely than not, they’re going to be organically steered towards that by the game and world itself. Sure, they could decide to be “one of the good ones”, and just never eat people, just like you reading this could decide to stop eating food. You technically could, but when your body starts to fail, how long would you? (This is a big part of the themes of Eureka and what it has to say about crime, disability, mental illness, and evil. People don’t just arbitrarily do bad things, it is often their circumstances that leads them down that path until they see little choice for themselves in that matter, and “harmful” people are still just as deserving of life as people who “aren’t harmful”, but that really deserves its own post.)

It has been said that Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy actually arrives at much the same end as the PbtA game Monsterhearts, and I actually don’t disagree, but it gets there from an entirely different starting point and direction. The monster PCs in Eureka are very likely to eat people and cause drama, but it won’t be because they have “Eat People and Cause Drama” as a “Move” on their character sheet.

Monsters in Eureka have a lot of abilities, which they can use to solve (and create) problems as the emergent story emerges organically.

(Oh and Eureka is about adult investigators investigating mysteries, and sometimes those investigators are monsters, not about monster kids in high school, to be clear. The same “end” that Eureka and Monsterhearts reach is that of the monsters being prone to cause problems and drama due to the fact that they are monsters, though this isn’t the sole point of Eureka, just one element of it.)

You can pick up the free shareware version of this game from the download link on our website, or the full version for $5 from our Patreon.

And don’t forget, Eureka is fundraising on Kickstarter starting on April 10th, 2024! We need your support there most of all, to make sure we hit our goals and can afford to make the best version of Eureka we can make!

Interested in branching out but can’t get your group to play anything but D&D5e? Join us at the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club, where we nominate, vote on, and play indie TTRPGs, all organized by our team with no strict schedule requirement! Here's the invite link! See you there!

We also have merchandise.

[hazbinwhoree]

Guardian angel pt.2? I'm already addicted to and love your stuff. Thx! :3

Guardian Angel

Part 2/3 Part 3

A/N: Can anyone guess how I’m gonna end it?

Even if Adam wanted to bring (Name) to the light, which he didn’t, the task would prove nearly impossible anyway. Because Adam was coming to learn that (Name) was quite the little sinner. In only one week, she exhibited each of the 7 Sins.

She got in a fight with her best friend and refused to apologize, even though it meant sacrificing their relationship. Pride.

She spent over a hundred dollars in one sitting online shopping for shit she didn’t need. Greed.

She spent ten minutes going through another girl’s social media page, making snide comments about her as she went. Envy.

She broke a lamp in a fit of rage over, well, Adam didn’t even know what her temper tantrum was about. Wrath.

She kicked Adam out so she could have some “Self Love Time” as she called it. Lust.

She was a glutton not of food, but of weed and alcohol, never satisifed unless she was not sober at least once during her day. Gluttony.

She would spend entire days rotting in her bed, neglecting all responsibilities. Sloth.

Long story short, Adam was pretty certain that were (Name) to die, she had herself a one way ticket down to Hell. The thought bothered Adam, and he realized that it really was up to him to make sure she got into Heaven.

“You’re sinful,” Adam blurted out one day while (Name) was listening to CPR by cupcakKe. (Name) paused the music. “It’s the song, isn’t it.”

“No… well, yes, but not just the song. I’ve seen you commit every single fucking one of the 7 Sins just this week. How do you expect to get into Heaven like that?”

“I don’t,” (Name) shrugged, going to unpause her music.

“You don’t care about going to Hell?” Adam was flabbergasted.

“Not particularly.”

“Well I’m your guardian angel, sweetie, so it’s my job to help you get into Heaven.”

“Really? Cause I don’t even know how you made it into Heaven. Their standards must be pretty low, I have a chance.”

“Oh eat shit,” Adam snapped, narrowing his eyes.

(Name) smirked.

“Have you heard of the Seven Heavenly Virtues?” Adam asked. (Name) looked bored. “I’ve heard of them… don’t know what they are.” “Well you’re going to do something that encompasses each one this week.”

And Lucifer be damned, Adam managed to get her to do something for every virtue.

She apologized to her best friend and they began to repair their relationship. Humility.

She gave a bunch of clothes she didn’t need to her younger cousin. Charity.

She left positive comments on that girl’s social media page. Kindness.

She did breathing exercises the next time she got angry instead of destroying her surroundings. Patience.

She stopped her copious amount of weed and alcohol consumption. Temperance.

She stayed on top of her responsibilities and began taking her job more seriously. Diligence.

Adam was proud of both her, and himself for getting her to do these things. Maybe she had a chance to get into Heaven yet.

“Why is it so important to you that I get into Heaven?” (Name) asked one night at dinner. Adam paused eating. “Uh, cause it’s my job, bitch.” (Name) rolled her eyes. “Yeah but you didn’t start doing your job until recently. What changed?”

“Maybe I never want to have to say goodbye.”

(Name) hadn’t been expecting such a confession. “You want me to go to Heaven… to be with you?”

Adam scowled, embarrassed. “No.”

They fell into awkward silence.

“For what it’s worth,” (Name) said. “I wouldn’t mind spending eternity with you.”

[sanjisboyfie]

∞ SNSTV : first year, first mission

this is the first chapter of my series "sensitive" (SNSTV = sensitive). since it's a series, this first chapter is going to be pretty "boring" in terms of romance, but it still full of satosugu interactions with reader...but probably not favorable ones as you'll see soon lol. anyway ! stay tuned for the next chapters because i will have a lot of fun fleshing this out hehehe

first year satosugu x male reader

-> prev

( if u squint )

“since shoko is a very valuable sorcerer, she must refrain from participating in highly dangerous missions,” the only girl in the room smiled at the information, sneakily flipping off her male classmates. satoru was annoyed, suguru was indifferent, and [name] seemed to be the only one with half a mind to care for the woman’s safety.

“her abilities are quite special,” he compliments, making yaga hum in agreement and shoko wink at him in appreciation.

satoru pretends to barf in his mouth.

“that leaves the three of you, [last name], gojo, and geto — this mission is going to be your first one without supervision. it should show to be easy enough. you are to simply monitor and oversea a specific section of the closed down mall and exorcise any curses that are roaming. it has been closed down far too long and kids are starting to wander in there without any idea of what they’re walking into. for the safety of the people and the community, you must exterminate every curse that dwells there. you are all permitted in using any cursed tool, if you wish, but we highly encourage you learn to harness your abilities as soon as possible.”

satoru pretended to barf in his mouth again. doing things for “normal” civilians was never his most ideal way of spending his time. but unless he wanted to hear a nagging from yaga, he had to suck it up. formal missions were hard to dodge, anyway. meanwhile, suguru hummed in understanding, seeing why this would need an urgent team.

and [name] was just excited to finally get his hands on his cursed tool again.

the three were escorted to the abandoned mall via their driver, who told them to call him if anything were to happen and they needed immediate assistance.

“i don’t get why crybaby over here had to come,” satoru huffs, looking at the mall with disinterest. it’s unclear whether or not he’s talking to himself or his other classmate. either way, it got a reaction from [name] who was within earshot.

“why don’t you just go fuck off gojo,” [name] snarled, holding onto the scythe in his hands with a tight grip. he expertly twirled it around, using the weight of it and basic understanding of gravity, to make it so that the sharp blade was pointed right at gojo’s neck.

hiding his surprise at the sudden action, gojo just smirked and glared at [name].

“you’re just scared because you know i’m right. the moment things go to shit, you’re gonna go running with your tail in between your legs like a poor puppy. and i’ll be there to laugh,” gojo said with a taunting cackle, the ugly sound rising from his throat making both suguru and [name] cringe.

“i’ll slice your throat open, i mean it.”

“love to see you try, piece of shit!”

“alright! enough fighting, the both of you! seriously? are we on a mission to exorcise some curses or is it my personal responsibility to babysit the two of you?” suguru sighed, rubbing his forehead in stress, “can we all just do this and go home? i think it’s obvious neither of you want to be here any longer,”

satoru rolled his eyes at suguru’s “nice guy” perona, internally calling bullshit on his entire personality. god, satoru hated those type of guys the most. the ones who think they’re superior just because they’re more mature. it pissed him off that suguru had an ability so strong too...talk about waste of potential!

well, too bad for both [name] and suguru because the one who was most superior was obviously him! he was gojo satoru, after all.

“whatever, weaklings. why don’t you sit back and just let me take care of this? there’s no need for your abilities when i could exterminate every curse in the vacinity,” satoru was confident when speaking his words, but if you were to tell him to actually do that…he might not have been able to.

hey! he was a first year and just recently allowed to go completely “ham” on using his powerful abilities. he didn’t have the bestest grasp on control or output, but he did know that his technique easily overpowered the other twos’.

“hm, to make it interesting, why don’t we have a competition?”

the competitive side of [name] and satoru shone bright after suguru said that. taking their perked up heads and attentive ears as a sign to continue on, he proposed, “whoever exorcises the most curses won’t have to do chores around the dorm for a whole week and all that responsibility will fall onto the losers.”

“a whole month,” [name] bargained, earning a shrug of approval from suguru. and satoru laughed that obnoxious laugh of his again, shouting a “bring it on” before putting on his sunglasses.

“you two are going down!”

“what does cockiness get you besides hateful stares, gojo?”

“geto-san’s right, you gojo bitch! bite your tongue and choke on your own blood, fool!!”

on the count of 3, the three students were setting off into separate directions of the mall and finding as many curses as possible to exterminate. for how vast the entire property was, this could take as long as a couple of hours…if the three students were normal jujutsu sorcerers.

but when you put a narcissist, someone with a superiority complex, and a hot-headed individual in a high stakes competition, you get the mall that was full of curses being free of said curses in under two hours (an hour and ten minutes, to be exact. to cover a 800,000 square feet land full of extremely lower grade curses).

at the beginning of the competition, [name] would lure out the curses by simply baiting them with his “naivety” of them being there. they’d pounce to attack, happy to find an unsuspecting prey, before [name] would slash them across their forms and kill them with his cursed tool. he imagines by the end of the hour, he had already taken care of over a couple dozen very low grade curses.

just as he was about to maneuver around and slice another one up, something had already took care of the problem.

“gonna need to try harder than that, crybaby,” satoru taunts, smirking from a floor above as he easily blew up the curse that was about to attack [name]. the man grits his teeth in annoyance while the white haired individual just shrugs in pride, “you can’t even look out for yourself, need me to save you, huh?”

“fuck off!” [name] sent a strong gust of wind satoru’s way via swinging his scythe towards satoru, creating almost a slash of air. his tormentor only laughed at the attempt in attacking him, flipping out of the way and then walking past [name] with a smug grin.

as he disappeared from [name]’s sight, he felt himself get more and more annoyed and angry at his predicament. of course, he had to be stuck in an abandoned place with his bully and not be able to leave until the ending of their mission. [name] huffed, feeling an unfair amount of tears reach his eyes.

at least satoru wouldn’t be around to see him cry like a pathetic loser, he thought to himself. he shook his head a couple of times, forcing the tears down with a clearing of his throat and rough wipe of his face. it was a pain to live such an emotionally unstable life — as if he had any control over things like that.

“so you really are a crybaby?” suguru’s voice broke his silent sobs, making him whip his head up and glare at the man approaching him. seeing his obvious apprehension to him being there, suguru put his hands up in surrender to show he meant no harm, “there’s no reason for you to be crying, why are you crying?”

“obviously i know i have no reason to cry, idiot, how annoying do you think it is for me to have to do it when i have no reason to?!”

suguru blinked, confusion panted on his face, “you have to cry?” putting emphasis on ‘have’ it was obvious suguru didn’t see a point in such a thing, especially right now.

“you wouldn’t get it, so just leave me alone,” [name] said, waving his hand and turning around to look for more curses. suguru had an odd look on his face as he watched [name] walk away, an unreasonable amount of cursed energy surrounding the previously crying man.

the ravenette truly wondered what his life story was, he was just so intriguing. a sorcerer coming from one of the strongest clans in the jujutsu world was walking away from him with his head held down, shoulders shaking, and tears dripping onto the floor.

“what’s his deal,” suguru hums to himself, flicking his wrist in the direction of a miniature curse that was coming towards him and easily eliminating it from the picture.

[name] continued expertly swinging his scythe around whenever he saw a curse coming towards him, not flinching as it died in front of him each time. it was obvious he was most comfortable with such a weapon, despite it being a couple times larger than his smaller frame. with how easily he handled it, though, it was somewhat obvious that he had been training with the weapon for a long time.

“oiii!!! i finished up on my part of the mall,” satoru shouted, his whiny voice echoing in the empty walls.

“same here!!”

[name] looked down at the pathetic curse that was shyly standing far away from him. it had an odd figure, a spherical body that was being held up by skinny blue legs that were wobbling from the abnormal amount of weight that they had to hold up. it was muttering some stuff about the fitting room and how the clothes weren’t fitting, making [name] believe it probably formed from the stuff people would feel about themselves in the fitting rooms.

he sighed, walking ahead and crouching in front of the curse. the scythe remained unmoving as it was leaning against his shoulder, weakly swinging in the air at the heavy weight of the blade hanging behind his head. he kept it secure with his arm over the handle portion, making sure that it didn’t fall over.

the curse reached its arm out to touch him, but with a simple shifting of his head into the opposite direction, [name] stopped the possible contact. instead, he just put his finger to the pudgy flesh of the curse’s body, grimacing at the feeling. and with a simple “shot” coming from his fingers, the curse began to flail in pain and agony. until it turned into nothing but ash and dust, being blown away by a passing breeze.

“hey, what was your total count?” satoru’s voice taunted from behind him, not really reading the energy in the room. [name] stood up, a completely dead look in his eyes. it almost shocked satoru enough to shut him up, but it would take more than a miserable face to ever make him close his loud mouth.

“i came up to about 60,” suguru said, “a bunch of small insignificant ones, really,”

“and i got to the eighties,” satoru grinned, roughly shoving his shoulder into suguru’s. the black haired man only rolled his eyes, “what about you? i doubt above thirty, am i right?”

in reality, [name] had killed more curses than the two combined. but he susposes that he had an advantage, wielding a cursed tool rather than using his actual technique. well, except to kill that last one. plus his high sensitivity in reading where the curses were gave him an advantage in finding the prey faster than the other two.

but instead of telling the truth and gloating, like he should have done, he just shrugged, “i didn’t keep track — i guess you win, gojo,”

that made the strong sorcerer pump his fist into the air, chanting about how [name] and suguru were going to be stuck doing his laundry for a month. he was too caught up in his celebration to notice how sunken in [name]’s face really looked.

it wasn’t just his eyes that appeared dead, but it was as if the color drained from his face, his eyes turned bloodshot, and he was weakly walking towards them.

suguru noticed, though. and it intrigued him as he peered behind [name]’s subtly limping figure, catching a pile of ashes that was blowing in the wind. he couldn’t connect the dots completely, but he did know that the two things he noticed were connected in some way.

“feeling alright? losing sucks,” suguru asked, trying to talk about more light hearted things in the face of his incredibly sullen classmate.

“yeah, it’s whatever, i guess,”

there was definitely a difference. less colorful choices of vocabulary were being used and suguru thought that was the most noticeable change in [name]’s demeanor. he wasn’t cursing satoru out for being an egotistical piece of shit with the biggest ego in the world. he was just blankly walking past the bragging man with not a care in the world.

suguru bit his lip, stopping himself from asking more questions and instead reaching into his pocket to contact their original driver to tell them that the job was done. and while suguru was theorizing all of these things to himself, it was obvious satoru didn’t even spend a second thinking about it. if anything he welcomed the new, depressed [name]. it made for perfect bullying material for him!

that sadist, suguru grimly thought in his mind as he listened to the phone ring. he informed the driver to come pick them up before turning back around to watch satoru and [name] interact with one another. with how off he was acting, it was a surprise to see satoru still adamant on tormenting [name]. wasn’t it obvious already he was not himself? couldn’t gojo just give him a break? but then again, why wasn’t [name] sticking up for himself? he wasn’t a little kid that needed suguru’s saving, but at this point, he might as well.

“c’mon, gojo, quit it already,” suguru spoke up, lightly slapping the man’s shoulder. satoru didn’t like that, though, obnoxiously stomping over to stand toe-to-toe with suguru.

“hah? c’mon, geto, you’ve got to see that this is a real pathetic scene, isn’t it? he can’t do anything in his life but constantly lose. it makes you wonder how it’s even possible for us to exist in the same world as him; the strongests and the weakest standing to be in the same jujutsu class? what a joke,”

suguru grimaced, pushing satoru backwards to create some space in between them, “that’s not even funny, what’s your issue, gojo? can’t you just shut up for a couple of seconds? would it really kill you?”

satoru pretended to barf, glaring at suguru, “oh, c’mon, don’t tell me you’re one of those righteous folks that sticks up for the weaker people?”

“i don’t have to explain shit to you — i don’t even know you,” suguru mumbles, not wanting to entertain him further. creating an argument would only make their moods worsen and become more bitter towards each other. in the midst of his annoyance, suguru glances towards [name] and scoffed to himself.

it was a bit pathetic of [name] to not even speak up for himself, he’ll admit that. but he wasn’t going to bully him just for that. he just wished that he had spoken up for himself in this moment, it would’ve at least been a sign to satoru that he wasn’t to be messed with. that he was strong, to some extent. but instead the man just stood there and took all the insults.

it made suguru both annoyed and angered.

why couldn’t [name] stand up for himself now? he was doing so before so easily and naturally. but now, it was as if all the energy was sucked out of him…

the ride to the jujutsu high was silent. and [name] seperated from the two the moment they stepped foot onto the school grounds. suguru remained stoic as he watched [name] walk away while satoru next to him only hummed in disinterest.

”i’m telling you, suguru, to not waste your time defending him. he’s got no place in the jujutsu world, weak sorceres like him that prove to be useless have no place standing next to us — or even shoko for that matter. she may not have fighting prowess, but her natural ability is remarkable. with [name]…there’s nothing remarkable about him. it’s as if he’s a normal human, he’s ordinary and dull. don’t waste your breath with him.”

that was all satoru said to suguru before walking off, his hands behind his head as he walked in such a lax position. suguru stood silent for a couple of moments before snapping himself out of his stupor and going to his room.

he looked at the room a couple of doors down from him, [name]’s room, and his lips were drawn into a thin, straight line. he entered his comfortable room without wasting another second.

he didn’t know that behind [name]’s door, the man had his knees brought up to his chest as he sobbed his heart out on the floor. the screen of his small tv was blaring back at him in the dark room, the screen being the only source of light. he was watching his favorite show, one that made him laugh and happy. but tears streamed down his face as he had to choke back on his sobs.

he tried forcing a smile on his face, making an unsettling expression a couple of times before he gave up.

he always hated this part.

but he had to persevere. he moved to his small music player at his bedside, grabbing the headphones that worked alongside them and falling onto his bed. he put the flimsy over-ear devices on, sighing as he looked up at the blank ceiling. soon, a compilation of his favorites songs filled his ears and he tried to be content with the feeling.

‘immerse yourself. and you’ll be okay in the morning.’

it was a mantra he repeated to himself until he felt himself fall into sleep.

he really hated his innate cursed technique.

-

sorry if u hate emotional mcs...this guy is gonna be one. but for explainable reason, trust! he's still going to be strong, too, though, so look forward to that! i can't wait to make him go #insane <3 but other than that, really fun to write since it shows the dynamic i imagined satosugu to have in their first years of jujutsu high !!! since the whole incident happens in their second year i rlly wanna focus on building the relationships in the first year and stuff, so things might be a lil slow to start, but when it starts ... it'll start, trust. tysm for being os patient w this even if it is short affa. i look forward to writing longer, more deeeeeep chapters in the future. much love <3

[poppy-metal]

UGH and then he shows up at your work and you’re like “fuck off or i’ll tell my manager you’re harassing me” and it’s SOOOO fake. like you’re such a liar.

“quit fucking blocking me and i won’t have to show up here to fucking speak to you.”

“i don’t want to speak to you, you stupid slut.”

“is that any way to talk to a paying customer? maybe i have something to tell your manager too.”

“jump off a cliff.”

“when does your shift finish?”

“why would i tell you that?”

“so i can pick you up after and you can tell me how you really feel back at my apartment.”

“…”

raises his eyes brows.

“6:30.”

giggling and kicking my feet i genuinely need this kind of relationship with him so bad u don't understand.

just deliberately calling him names and being petty because you know the more you piss him off the more your ass is gonna get reamed later - its his fault, anyway. all his intensity and passion made you crave this kind of dynamic - you used to be a good girl with normal taste in men and the desire to settle down with just some guy. now you couldn't get off during sex unless it felt violent - you got fucking bored so easily when there wasn't a fight to be had - you thought if a man didn't track you down by your fucking email and drag you back to his dick by the scruff of your neck, it meant he didn't want you and wasn't worth your time. and how fucked up was that?

so yeah - he could handle a few insults. because fuck him, genuinely. you'd never be the same again after him.

you give him the time your off anyway. and you're fidgeting the whole rest of your shift. nearly bouncing on your heels and by 6:25 you're so amped up - pussy nearly drenching your jean shorts enough to leave a visible stain - that when a customer comes in you actually consider ripping their head off. you throw them onto your coworker instead, tossing them a glare that could freeze over hell when they start to protest.

nothing was going to stand in your way. you'd broken up with patrick two weeks ago. two weeks without his cock stretching you out - diabolical. even though you'd been the one to issue the break and to block him on everything - still, way too fucking long.

you think you might be able to get a few more jabs in - really seal the deal, because if you were honest, being a brat was addicting as hell - but when you approach patricks car and you see him leaned against it, cigarette in hand, just watching you come toward him calmly - you lose your breath.

you're drawn to him like a moth to a flame - willingly diving head first into the jaws of a wolf - and when you're close enough he drops the cig, crushes it underneath his shoe and reaches out - grabs you roughly by the collar of your shirt and yanks you to him. his mouth is on yours and its tongues and teeth and lips and moaning like you're each starving for it. he grips the sides of your face and plunders your mouth with his tongue and you clutch as his waist, scrabbling your hands under his hoodie to feel the warm skin of his stomach.

it twitches under your palms and you hungrily drag your hands up, wanting to feel him and patrick turns, pinning you to his car and fumbling behind you, yanking the back door open.

he pulls back, says, "get in." but hes already shoving you backwards himself and you're falling onto his shitty leather seats and he's following, coming down over you and slamming the door closed with his foot. he kneels over you, hands yanking at his belt - "you dont want me anymore, huh?" rips it through the loops hard enough that it snaps against his wrist when its all the way free. "I'm not serious enough for you?"

he's rehashing all the shit you'd said to him over text and you bite your lip, arching your back - but he places a palm on your stomach, pushes you back down - "this isn't serious." you lie to him and his eyes flash, he fucking hates when you lie to his face. which is why you grin and tell him, "im just horny - you could be anyone -"

patrick nods like, 'aw, yeah?' and you feel an excited shiver go through you - are expecting it but still gasp when he grips you by the waist and roughly rolls you over onto your belly. he's pressed against your back immediately, big and crushing you against the too hot seats. fingers yanking down your shorts and panties at the same time, "you're such a fucking liar." he grunts, lifts up just enough to wrangle his own jeans and boxers down over his ass. "what am I gonna do about that, huh? you know that shit pisses me off."

you moan at the feel of that big dick of his, hard and hot as it slips between your cheeks. the blunt head slippery as it glides over your asshole - "god, i missed this ass, fuck -" you try to lift your hips, make it so he slips down to your pussy where you want him. are ready to take him. but he shoves you back down his pelvis, knocks the breath out of you when he winds his bicep around your neck. "ahh, no. you think you deserve this dick in your pussy after the shit you pulled? i thought i was too small for you- "

you try to cry out when you feel him slip over your hole again, trying to claw at his arm but you cant. your hands are trapped under your body. you're immobile. you've never been so fucking wet in your life.

"stop-" you pant weakly, even as you grind back against him. "not there patrick- please -"

"huh?" he grunts against your ear and you feel the press of his cockhead as it probes your tight asshole. "you tellin me no? said i couldn't have your cunt so im confused, baby -" it pushes futher against the tight ring and you wail. wiggling your hips to try and buck him off but he doesn't move a fucking inch.

"im not ready - i didn't prep - patrick dont. - please, im sorry -"

just the barest inch of his cock is fitted inside the tiny hole. he moves his hips so it presses in and out just barely, and the burn has your pussy weeping. the leather is sticky under you. "that's too bad -" patrick pants against you, his arm flexes against your throat and your eyes roll back at the pain in your ass as he pushes more into you. "- cause you fucking know what happens when you're a brat. knew this was comin'-"

and its true, you did. knew from the start that patricks favorite way to punish you, to work out his anger was on your tight ass.

and thats specifically why you didn't prep yourself.

"you can cry about it, its not gonna change it -" his head finally pops past the resistant ring of your stubborn rim. you squeal and buck under him and he groans, burying his face in your hair - "oh fuck - you're so goddamn tight - grip me with that ass, baby, yes -"

despite your cries and protests he forces himself in inch by inch into the tight passage of your body. until you feel the weight of his heavy balls on your wet pussy. it hurts so fucking bad. you're so full you could die. why is so fucking big?? god you're so turned on. you needed this.

contrary to every action before it, patrick softly kisses the back of your neck. loosens his arm around you just enough that you can sag fully down into the seats below and gulp in air.

"that's it, good girl -" his body completely folds over yours. no part of you seprated as he has you basically prone. he shifts his hips and rocks his cock into your sore ass. "just lay there and let daddy use you now."

you gargle out something of a reply. already drooling from the mouth. and this isn't even the end.

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐰𝐨-𝐁𝐢𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ notes: tagging @orinscrivellos who motivated me to write this. i really enjoyed doing it

↳ warnings: slight implications of transhobia. nothing directly mentioned

↳ song: a little less conversation—elvis presley

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• Two-Bit thinks you’re super kickass for being out and open about yourself in the way you are. It is the sixties after all, and along with living on the East side of town, you aren’t exactly getting treated the best

• But that doesn’t really matter to you. As long as the gang, and most importantly Two-Bit, likes you, then you couldn’t care less

• So yeah, Two-Bit thinks you’re brave. Probably calls you his ‘fearless knight,’ and treats you poshly for a good laugh sometimes. Or about as posh as he can pretend to get. He’s never been really good at playing a rich character despite his improvisation skills. You suppose it’s the way he was raised, the way all of you were raised, that makes it difficult

• Is loud and proud about you being his partner. Unless you want him keeping it under wraps, Two-Bit will pretty much scream it from the mountain tops about how much he loves his boyfriend. Consequences be damned

• “Golly, Two, you just don’t stop talking about him do you?” Ponyboy ogles at his friend as they make their way down the street, heading to meet you for a night out at the Nightly Double. He was in disbelief that anyone could ever talk so much and for so long, much less about the same thing. Even Soda didn’t use to talk about Sandy this much

• “Nope!” Two-Bit pops his ‘p’ loudly, grinning like a shark as he continues on with his train of thought. Pony just shook his head in a mix of awe and horror, already regretting that he had thought to ask Two-Bit how you had been doing. And that was over ten minutes ago!

• Two-Bit has definitely gotten into fights to ‘defend your honor,’ as he likes to put it—most of the time he can hear people at his school bad mouthing you, which any one of you can handle. You don’t live the greaser life without getting your name dragged through the mud after all—but when they start throwing out those names about you, he’ll start a fight quicker than you could blink

• “Oh glory.” You stare at Two-Bit unblinking one afternoon. Two shiny new black eyes peer back, accompanied by a split lip, and you have to resist the urge to drag a hand down your face in exhaustion.All you had wanted to do is come pick him up from his house, and you were met with this mess

• “What? I’ve been trying on a new look. What do you think baby?“

• “I think you’re stupid.” You don't even have to ask how he got those, you already know. A part of you swells with affection at the thought of him caring about you enough to do that, but the more responsible part of you pushed it down in order to sigh

• “But you love me.” Two-Bit retorts with a gleeful laugh, sounding like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Which he doesn’t. In his eyes, he’s got all he ever needs. A mom that loves him, a sister that adores his jokes, friends that have his back, and a handsome boyfriend. What more could a greaser like him want?

• If you come out and then transition, in that order, Two-Bit and everyone would definitely help you with your new style. They’ve spent their entire lives in boys clothes, so they have plenty of fashion tips, if you can even call them that, and materials to spare

• if you wear a bigger size, or want baggier clothing, Dallas and Two-Bit with go and nab pretty much anything you want from the nearby corner store. If you like tighter fitting clothing, or run a little gangly, you are always welcome to borrow one of Pony or Johnny’s outfits. They’d give them to you in a heartbeat if you asked

• Hair greasing lessons! They’ll teach you how to grease your hair up nice so you’ll look tuff, until eventually you’ve learned to do it all by yourself. Two-Bit always smiles the biggest when you come out of the bathroom with your hair slicked back. He likes to think he’s got the best looking partner this side of the railroad tracks

• It doesn’t matter what kind of body you have or want. Two-Bit will support you all the way. It’s not like you can really afford testosterone or major surgery considering you live in the slums of Tulsa with everyone else, and those services aren’t exactly offered to the public thanks to laws at the time, but if you manage to get our hands on any of that stuff, the gang will support your recovery/shot sessions all the way; bringing you whatever you need in the moment and all that jazz, even if Dallas or Steve gripe about running errands

• “Here’s your stupid bandaids.” Dally threw a small cardboard box onto the foot of the couch you were sitting on with a slight rattle. You look up to thank him, and he just blows out a bit of smoke from his mouth. You had half a mind to ask him for a drag of his cigarette, but knew Darry would kill you if he caught you smoking after administering testosterone. He was already nervous enough about you constantly taking shots, so you didn’t want to worry him anymore

• “No problem.” Dallas’ gaze drifted over to Two-Bit, who was sitting next to you, and he smiled lazily

• “Hey Two? If the two of you are banging, does that make you gay, or straight?”

• Dally walked away from that conversation that day with a bruise on his arm and a big laugh tumbling from his lips

[webslingingslasher]

taylor swift song request lesgooo!!! end game from reputation where y/n has a really big reputation as a 'bad girl' and peter (good boy loml) ends up tutoring her, and sees she isn't all bad...

first off, i am so sorry this took so long, you may not even be on my page anymore, but this struck something in me & i couldn't stop.

second, i switched up the request a little because if you listen to the song, (in a non snooty way lmao) taylor is the one expressing she wants to be with this person but she has a bad repuation and everyone's heard about it, and it's a lot to commit to because of the talk surrounding her.

---------

Everyone had it wrong. 

You were good. And kind. And smart. And talented. And confused. And lost. And just like every other kid in the school. You were good. You stayed to yourself. You didn’t gossip. You didn’t judge. You didn’t tattle. You were good. 

So why did everyone hate you so much? 

It was your brother’s fault. His reputation preceded yours and it ruined everything for you. 

He was the one that picked fights. 

He was the one that pushed teachers to the limits. 

He’s the one that sold dope from his locker. 

He’s the one that hooked up with a girl in the teacher's lounge. 

And the third floor bathroom. 

And the girls locker room.

And underneath the bleachers.

He’s the one that made everyone think you were just alike. 

It ruined everything about high school so far. 

Jokes, rumors, lost friendships, people refusing to date you. 

It was childish and unfair. You wanted one person on your side, the one person you watched in class, the one person that was nice to you in a school of jekyll’s. And you couldn’t have him. 

“Hey, still coming later?” 

Peter Parker had a smile that could make the devil buckle. He was sugar, spice and everything nice. Long time crush, but the part where you’ve been smeared into a good for nothing whore, made nothing possible. 

“You sure you still wanna do this? I don’t mind asking Mrs. Stu-” 

Peter called your name like you were telling a joke, “it’s my honor to tutor you! Don’t blow me off.” 

You want to protect him. You like him too much. He hangs around you long enough and accusations with his name start flying around with yours. 

“If you’re so desperate,” grinning brightly, “I’ll see you later.” 

Peter was so kind to tutor you. Your teacher asked on your behalf, she said she thought you’d be a good pair and you couldn’t deny the extra help, too bad Peter had to be the one on the chopping block. He was being a good samaritan and you knew what it would cause for him, even with the alone time you’ve been craving, you’d keep him pushed away at all costs. 

You didn’t want the fallout to burn him, you’re used to the sting and he’s someone that shouldn’t feel anything but a loving touch. 

Even if it would kill you, you’d have to pretend to be disinterested in Peter Parker and watch him walk away. 

Oh, the things you do for love.

—------------

You’ve never felt so paranoid in your life. You swore everyone was looking at you, or maybe they were looking at Peter. Telling themselves it seemed fit that a nerd would be trying his shot with the school whore, because it’s not like you’d say no. 

“Hi, can I sit?” Peter pointed at the patch of grass next to you, your eyes squinted as you looked up at him, it was hard reading his expression. You were the shade but he was standing under the sun, everything was washed out and too bright. 

“Um, here?” you pointed at the same spot, taking a chance to look around, you felt eyes all over you. “Yeah, I mean, unless you want me here?” He pointed at a patch on the other side of you, “or here,” gesturing next to your feet, “you know what? You choose, I’m the guest.” 

He’s so nice. Gentle, even. You hadn’t experienced someone so kind, so golden hearted, in a minute. His kindness shouldn’t be his weakness or his downfall. With one last scope of the scene you assume he could stay for a moment, at least you could figure out where to meet later. 

You give Peter a smile and pat the first spot he pointed out, “you can sit,” answering his original question. His backpack hit the ground first, jimming himself closer to the tree behind you to rest his back on. Peter’s fingers picked pieces of grass, you assume in boredom. 

“So,” you both speak at the same time, a soft exhaling laugh at the symmetry. You wave Peter along, the sooner he gets it out the sooner he can leave, the quicker he is with you the less he’ll be attacked. 

“Wanna meet at the library?” 

And have everyone see? Have his reputation smeared like your own? There’s a reason you don’t have many people around you, you can’t believe he doesn’t see it.

“No,” he’s taken a bit back by your blunt tone. Peter hums low, “your place?” 

You scoff, “absolutely not.” 

There’s no other option then, “alright, my place it is. Wanna come with me after school? We could take the bus, unless you prefer the subway.” 

God, there’s nothing in the world you want more. It was too dangerous, if you got close enough it’d be too hard to rip it away. If you were seen leaving school with him, going to his house with him, it’d be over for him. You would give him the mark of cain. 

It hurts more than you’d like to admit, you take your turn at plucking small weeds, avoiding his face. He’s hard to say no to. 

“I can’t. But, I’ll come over tonight.” 

You hate how happy he sounded when he answered, it was so unfair. You were a good kid, your brother was the bad one, but you dealt with all the repercussions. Your heart felt so weighed down, you wanted nothing more to reach out and hold Peter’s hand. 

You wanted a boyfriend. 

You wanted a friend. 

You wanted love. 

You wanted to feel accepted and heard and validated and supported by one person. 

But you couldn’t have him. 

“Cool. Wanna give me your number?” It’d be better than talking in person, easier to keep him away from you unless absolutely necessary. You nod, finally looking at him when you hand over your phone, he’s got a giant smile and you have to look back down at a patch of weeds with a single dandelion poking from it. 

“Yours?” 

Peter’s fingers brush yours when he hands his over, a warm jolt spreads down your wrist and into your elbow. It makes you feel alive, it’s a welcomed feeling. You try to forget it immediately. 

His screen is cracked and scratchy as you type your number in, feeling him watch over your face you scan the crowd of people. You swear you see someone pointing, you shove his phone back in his hand, scrambling to stand. 

“I’ll text you when I’m on my way, I have to go.” 

He’s not allowed to care this much. It’s unfair. 

“You don’t want to have lunch with me? I have half a sandwich if you want it, I know we only have like, ten minutes left but if you want it, it’s yours.” 

‘If you want it, it’s yours.’

Does he mean it? Is there a limit to what could be yours? 

Too bad you’ll never know. 

“Thank you, but I can’t.” He almost looks disappointed, you have to stop making things up. 

“You sure? I don’t mind sharing with you.” 

You do. He can’t suffer the same consequences you do, it’s too isolating. Lonely. You were lonely. He doesn’t deserve it. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll see you later, Peter.” 

Peter takes his time unwrapping his homemade sandwich from cellophane, he takes a bite from half and moans, outstretching his hand with the other half, still wrapped up. “Here, take it to go. My aunt made it, if you try hard enough you can taste the love.” 

He’s god damn irresistible. 

You take his gift, slowly backing away, “thanks, I’ll search for it.” 

Peter’s smile hurts your eyes, “good, it isn’t hard to find.” He’s adorable, even when he’s wrong. 

It must be his superpower. 

—-------------------

Peter’s aunt was two things. 

A lot, and very kind. 

You can see where Peter gets his aggressive pleasantry from, the moment she opened the door she was eager to please you. May wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug, her voice cheery in your ear.

“Oh my goodness, it is so nice to put a face to the name.” 

Politely patting her back you swallow thickly, she’s heard all about you and your make believe history. She’s kind but you know in the back of her mind she’s hoping you’d leave her nephew alone, get what you need from him and leave. 

“Nice meeting you too, you make a killer sandwich, by the way.” 

She gasps, pushing you away by your shoulders, moving her head to catch her eyes. An unfamiliar smile crosses her face, you don’t know what it means but it feels as welcoming and radiant as Peter’s. 

“Oh, good! He shared.” 

May said it like it was planned, like she could tell you were confused she broke your attention away. “I made cookies, because everyone knows you need sugar to help you focus.” A wink, she was so gentle, it’s something about those Parker’s. 

You play along, it’s nice to be welcomed for once. Even if it’s until you’re gone, the moment she tells Peter she knows all about you and to keep his distance. 

“I think I read a story on that once, nine out of ten dentists agree, right?” 

And just for a moment you let yourself dream, floating on your imaginary high of Peter Parker when his aunt laughs at your joke, her smile slowly dimming while she looks at your face, deep in thought. A confident head nod. 

“Peter was right about you.” 

You should take it negatively, but you don’t. There’s something about her that tells you she only means well. It must mean she hasn’t heard the bad things, but once she does, she’d be eating her words. 

But damn, if you aren’t curious about what Peter said. Was he nice, did he hint at a crush, did he make his aunt believe you were someone you’re not? 

“Peter was right about what?” 

The devil himself appeared from nowhere, his body standing next to yours, so closely you can feel hints of his cotton zip up hoodie brushing your arms. You closed your eyes to breathe slowly, the sight of him with his hands flat on the kitchen counter, leaning his weight into the laminate, his hoodie strings dangling in a tempting way. 

In a way you want to pull him closer by them, curling the fabric around your fingers and tugging him until his mouth is on yours. 

You’re easy to read, you can see it on May’s face the second you open your eyes. You know in an instant she knows that you like her nephew. Even more surprisingly, she looks excited with the knowledge. 

Her eyes flicker back to her nephew, “how lovely you said our guest was, what else did you say?” 

You can see Peter freeze, “May,” it’s a warning tone. His aunt bulldozes, “wasn’t it something about how pr-” You don’t know what she says, Peter speaks over her. “May!” Jumping in your spot, caught off guard by his sudden tone and volume change, Peter moves a hand to your arm, “sorry,” it was delicate, it was him saying he was only sorry towards you, sorry for catching you off guard. 

Fighting past his numbing touch, you smile, “it’s okay, I didn’t know you could be so stern.” 

You need to see a therapist, because you swear you shared a moment. “Only when it’s something I’m passionate about.” 

He’s talking about you, he has to be. You want him to be. 

You have no idea how you’ll keep yourself from tying to him. But you’ll give it a fighting chance. 

“You know what I’m passionate about?” Peter shakes his head, it’s hard to look away from his eyes, you never knew brown eyes could be so pretty. But you do, attention directed to fresh made chocolate chip cookies. 

“Cookies.” 

Peter won’t let you off that easy, “what kind?” 

You bounce different flavors over in your head, “you’re opening pandora's box, parker. I mean, are we talking grocery store, homemade, or bakery?” 

His arms crossed over his chest, “well, now I need to know every answer.” 

You blow out a breath like you’re about to compete in the olympics, “alright, off the shelf grocery, you can’t go wrong with double stuffed oreos. But, personally, those keebler elves, with the fudge? I love em, my mom stopped buying them cause I’d eat half the pack in one sitting, so now my dad sneaks them to me. But, I mean, you can’t go wrong with those little bakery sugar cookies, you know, the ones that stick to the roof of your mouth?” 

Peter bites back a grin, you weren’t lying, you really were passionate. 

“I know what ones you’re talking about, they’re gross.” It’s the most offensive thing he could say to you. “You’re wrong, but okay.” He laughs, “opinions can’t be wrong,” you pull your head back, “they absolutely can, yours is proof.” 

You look for support from his aunt but she’s long gone, you didn’t even see her back away. 

Peter rolls his hand, amping you on, “homemade?” 

You spit the answer quickly, “butterscotch oatmeal.” He’s never heard of them, or tasted them, but if you love them, he thinks he would too. “You’ll have to bring me some to try, they sound tempting.” Agreeing with him, “you’d never go back.” 

“Bakery?” 

“That’s the tricky one, it’s a rare find, not every place has them. But it’s my all time favorite flavor of anything ever made, s’mores.” 

Peter loves it, your favorite treat was s’mores and it fit you. 

His personal mission was tracking one down and bringing it to you. 

“S’mores? Really?” 

You nod, “really, really. If you find one you’ll have to try it, unless you have another wrong opinion and don’t like s’mores.” 

“Nah, I love s’mores.” 

Peter Parker was too good of a person to bring down. You need to shut down your admiration, because his alienation would hurt the most. 

—---------------------

This wasn’t good. No, this was bad. This was really bad. 

Peter Parker just called open season on himself and it was all your fault. 

You should’ve refused for him to be your tutor, that was the mistake. The moment it was agreed upon it was over. You should’ve never gone over to his house, if you hadn't then you would’ve never told him about your favorite cookie, and he wouldn’t have gotten you one. 

It happened in third period, he approached your seat and set a small white box in front of you. Your eyes flickered from the box to him several times before you asked, “what’s this?” A gift, you knew that much, he’s given you a gift and Jeffery Stewart was watching it go down. Peter would have an hour until he was tied to you. 

“Open it,” slowly opening the cardboard your heart skips three beats, once for each cookie. You’ve never felt so seen, dare you even say loved? He listened, that’s what it was. He listened to you and he tracked them down and presented them to you, he was proud. 

Peter Parker has made everything about your current life harder. 

“Oh my god, where did you find these?” 

He shakes his head, like it doesn’t matter where he sourced them, what matters is that he did. 

“You were right, they’re hard to track down, it took me three days. Surprisingly, they’re mostly seasonal.” 

You tsk, contemplating tearing one in half right now. “It’s so wrong, isn’t it? I mean, you can buy s’mores stuff all year long, so it doesn’t make sense.” Fuck it, it’s selfish, but he went above and beyond. 

Splitting a cookie, you hand half over, cheersing yours with his. You throw your head back and hum the second you bite down, they’re the best ones you’ve ever had. You weren’t sure if it was because they were that good, or because it felt like they were purchased with care. 

“Holy shit, Peter. These are unearthly.”

He’s in the same boat, he can understand why they’re your favorite now. 

Nodding excessively, “my world has changed for the better.” 

“Yeah, mine too.” It was a slip, you didn’t mean to say it. It came out without thinking, you said it sincerely, and he knows it. Peter finished the rest of his cookie and licked his thumb, “good, I’m glad to hear it.” 

This was bad. This was very bad. 

Because Peter Parker lays his hand on your desk and leans in, really closely, it makes you stop functioning all together. He needs to leave, he needs to back away, he needs to leave you alone. He doesn’t know what he's doing to himself, but you’re too selfish to stop it. 

Even with Jeffery Stewart staring you down like a dog in heat, a wicked grin spreads while he ropes over the many rumors he’s about to flood the halls with. 

“Wanna come over tonight?” 

Lost in a world of a million thoughts, all of them being about the distance from his lips to yours. Blinking back to attention you groan, “I don’t really feel like studying tonight, my brain is mush.” 

Peter nods, then moves in, just an inch closer, you feel like you’re about to die. 

“Not what I asked.” 

“I don’t-” 

“I asked if you wanted to come over, not if you wanted to study.” 

The room is spinning, everything is a blur. He’s flirting, Peter Parker is flirting with you in front of an audience. He’s fearless, it’s impressive. There’s no way he doesn’t know about your reputation, the things people say about you, the things you do. 

Suddenly, a chill creeps up your spine. What if he knows exactly what people say, what if that’s why he’s being sweet, what if that’s why he’s acting like he cares? Fuck it, you’ll call him out on his bullshit, but privately, you don’t need any extra attention. 

“Sure. Same time?” 

“Same time,” it’s set in stone when the bell rings, Peter knocks his knuckles on your desk before he walks away. It’s unfair how much you hate to see him pull away from you.

—------------------

The upside to being cynical is that when things don’t work out, like you plan, you’re not that hurt, because you called it the whole time. 

Just like Peter, you knew the second it circled back to him he’d be gone. It proved to be true when you heard mumbles by your locker, eyes flicking to you and back, quicker whispers shared. 

From what you’ve gathered, either Peter has seen your nipple piercings or he’s given you nipple piercings. Not that you had them, but that didn’t matter. What now mattered was that Peter was directly tied to you and your boobs were involved, that’s enough alone for him to get a clap on the back while you’re being shamed for even acknowledging your body autonomy. 

What a lame rumor, Jeffery Stewart could’ve gone to the moon with theories but this was the one he settled on? Usually he was a bit more creative, his last one ended up with you and the guidance counselor in the principal's office informing you that it was a safe space, and that if the school’s janitor came onto you it wasn’t your fault. 

It took three weeks for people to totally forget it, but those few weeks you’d hear claps and wolf whistles when you passed by the janitor's closet made you feel like you were on the constant verge of vomiting. 

Usually it wouldn’t bother you, but once they involved Peter’s name you felt sick. Everything you feared itching to life, and right when you heard a third possibility you couldn’t stay silent, slamming your locker door shut and giving wild eyes to the girl talking to her friend on your right. 

“Which one is it, Lindsey? Was he holding my hand while I got them done, did he see them, or did he do them? I don’t know about you, but if I heard three totally different versions of a story I’d question the authenticity of the claim.” 

It didn’t matter who was watching, you couldn’t hold it in.

You felt like you were on fire, you could see her sputter, like she didn’t expect you to call her out. You felt like the walls were closing in on you, she didn’t start the rumor but she was helping it spread and she was the closest person you could explode on. 

“C’mon, Lindsey. Which one? I want to hear your side, unless you think it went down a totally different way. What? Scared to talk?” 

Your throat’s closing, you can’t stop, you step closer, you shout at her. 

“Which one, Lindsey!” The hall was dead silent, for the first time you had no cares about who was looking. 

Her shoes squeak as she backs up, her eyes wide and blinking, a flash of terror, it makes you want to squeeze her and shake her, try to get her to understand this was what it felt like to be you.

“Fucking answer me!” Your voice cracked, she whimpered, fat tears falling. 

“None! I don’t believe any of them!” 

She doesn’t. You can see it written all over her face, she was just talking to talk, knowing you could hear every word she produced. It just made you feel sad. 

“You can hunt other women as much as you want, Lindsey. But the collusion doesn’t save you from the same hunt.” 

Lindsey nods, like she understands. But you know she doesn’t, you know she’ll keep being the same, until they turn on her, and then she’ll wonder why no one stands up for her and how anyone could believe the jargon they say about her. And on that day, you’d be nodding with the crowd. 

—-------------

If Peter told his aunt about today she had an excellent poker face. Because she was more than happy seeing you when she opened the door, hugging you close before she could even shut it.

“Hi, sweetheart! How are you doing?” Politely hugging back, you talk back in her ear. “Hi, Ms. Parker, I’m good, how are you?” A squeeze before you’re released, her hands warm on your shoulders. 

“Oh, please, just call me May. Did Peter give you the cookies?” 

You nod while biting back a grin, she might have a clue for how you feel about her nephew but you’re not announcing it either. “Good,” she’s got something in her that makes you feel like she’s more of a wingwoman than aunt. 

“Peter’s in his room, I won’t be back until late, are you sleeping over?” 

You feel off balance for a second. May’s leaving you and Peter alone, for several hours, and then suggests you’ll be spending the night. She really is a wingwoman. It makes you second guess everything Peter might have told her, it’s clear she can see your mental gymnastics when she pats your arm. 

“He said you guys are gonna hang out, maybe watch some movies. I just meant, will I be surprised if I come home to you two cuddled up somewhere.” 

Is she saying not to fuck in the common areas?

“Are you saying-” 

“Keep it in his room.” 

Mortified. She must assume the worst out of you, you’ve only met her twice and her thought was that the second you were alone you’d be fuck bunnies. To be fair, Peter is really attractive. She can tell how embarrassed she’d made you and she’s quick to jump over it. 

“No accusations and no shaming. I’d just rather be clear to both of you. Peter had a worse conversation, be glad.” 

You take that as her permission, and that she likes you. She has to, she just implied she’d be cool if you and Peter hooked up. Even if the world hated you, having her approval made you feel like you had someone to impress again. 

“Okay, I understand and accept the rules and boundaries of your home.” 

May laughs, hooking her purse over her shoulder she pats your arm again. “You’re a good kid, don’t forget that.” 

And that made you want to curl up and cry, you haven’t had unprompted support like that in years. It worked, because you’d never, not once, cross any boundary of her’s. In fact, after that? You’d die protecting hers. 

“Thanks, May. See you later.” 

A wink, “See you later, honey.” 

You took a second to breathe, and look over yourself in the mirror before approaching Peter’s door. Knocking for a second and opening it when he answered, he spun one eighty in his desk chair, a blur of blue plaid until he settled. 

Before he had a chance to speak you did, “did your aunt give us permission to have sex, or am I tripping?” 

Peter’s grin dimmed, he looked to his closet doors while his cheeks tinged pink. “I promise you, whatever she said to you, is nowhere near as bad as my talk.” 

“She mentioned that, was it all about the ins and outs of pleasuring a woman?” 

Peter’s avoiding eye contact, you came here to tell him he should keep his space but watching him shrink under your questions made you feel powerful. Each blush he gives makes you want to dig in further. 

He more or less shrugs, it’s a damn bold line, you don’t even know what you're saying until it comes out in full. 

“Tell me, Parker, could you please me?” 

Seconds tick, you can hear it on his clock, finally he looks at your face. Any trace of a blush fallen, it makes you feel choked. 

“I’m not sure, but I’d love to find out.” 

Panic. He’s not supposed to say that, he’s supposed to back down. You’re supposed to back him down.

Peter can’t go down this road and it’s your job to block his path, but you can’t stop yourself from moving out of his way. 

“I mean, since you already know about the nipple piercings…” you trail your words, expecting a sneer. Instead he laughs, a full on body laugh, it makes you smile, just the pure happiness radiating from him. 

For once a rumor is just something you can laugh about. 

“Psh, of course I knew about them. I mean, isn’t that the third time you’ve had them?” 

It was. You didn’t realize it but that was the third time the rumor was reused. You didn’t notice but he did, did he notice all the other ones too? All the ones that stated how bad you were? Did it even matter if he believed them, you didn’t think so, at least not at this point, you just didn’t want him to suffer the same fate. 

Peter pats the top of his bed, “take a seat,” your stomach lurches, the thought of being in his bed enough to ignite you in flames. His aunt said keep it in his room and he’s luring you right in, your palms feel like they’re sweating. If he heard all the rumors about you sleeping around and thought you were like that, he was about to be disappointed. 

Holding your eyes shut and squeezing fists you rush the words out, the quicker said the quicker this would be over. 

“I’m a virgin!” 

Instead, he looked utterly confused, looking around his room like he was trying to figure out where the explosion came from. Settling on a low release of words, his eyebrows furrowed in, “so am I?” 

Just to be clear, “I’m not looking to change that tonight, so if that’s why you wanted-” 

“No!” Peter almost slips on the floor he stands so quick, “that’s not at all why I wanted, I just thought…” He doesn’t know how to say it, he almost said he thought you needed a friend, but that could be offensive, or worse, he’d be friendzoning himself for you. 

“Thought what, I’d be an easy piece? Cause I know you’ve hea-” 

“I asked Mrs. Sturgis if I could tutor you!” 

You stop talking, his words looping in your brain. That doesn’t make sense, because if he did ask then that means he wanted to tutor you, that means there was a deeper meaning, that means when his aunt said he talked about you it went further than what was said at school. 

“Please,” he pleaded your name, “come sit? Just for a second.” 

You follow his command and sit on the edge of his bed, watching Peter pace as he combs his hands through his hair. He’s nervous. 

“I don’t know how to talk to you, my brain is just… you make me really nervous.” 

“Why did you ask to tutor me?” 

Peter stops moving to look at you, it was easier to answer when you asked. 

“So I could talk to you.” 

It’s a start, “why?” 

“I just wanted you to trust me. I hear what everyone says, and I don’t believe a word of it, but I didn’t want you to think I was asking for the wrong reasons, or making a joke out of you.” 

Your face scrunches, “you thought, I’d think, that you asking to tutor me, directly, would be a joke?” 

Peter shakes his head, sitting back in his chair and taking a second to answer you. 

“No, I think if I asked you out on a date you’d think it was a joke.” 

You laugh, “well, yeah… It’s not like you…” 

Except he does, and you can see it all over his face. He really, really does. With the new knowledge you don’t know how to act, suddenly aware Peter Parker sees you in a different light. He doesn’t see you as his student, he sees you as a potential mate. 

You only know fight or flight, and your flight option was crawling further up his bed, backing away until your back hit the wall, a dull thump produced. You give a barely audible, “ow,” your brain racing with thoughts, trying to catch up with his admittance. 

“You okay?” 

You’re thankful he can’t see you, the top bunk perfectly cutting your head from his viewpoint. 

“Peachy,” you can barely speak. 

“Cool, cause it seemed like you kinda freaked when I implied I wanted to ask you out.” 

You nibble on your thumbnail, “implied or asking?” 

“I’d rather ask when I can see you.” 

How is he so calm, he was the one that was just pacing the floor talking about how nervous he was. Now he’s a smooth talker.

“Is that why you asked to tutor me? So you could ask me out?” 

“Maybe, but you also need a tutor.” 

Rude. Fair, but rude. 

“So, you like me?” 

You wish you could see the smile he has, you know he has one, you can hear it in his laugh. 

“What would give you that impression?” 

You shrug, but he can’t see. “I don’t know, you’re not nervous anymore.” 

“I don’t have to be, the girl I like likes me too.” 

You gasp, you’ve said no such thing! There was absolutely nothing to base his accusation off of. You mock his words. 

“What would give you that impression?” 

Another laugh, you wish you could see that laugh. But once you emerge it’s over, it means he’s signed his life away to be with you. An act of selflessness you didn’t know was possible. 

“Look at yourself, you’re hiding cause you’re petrified to be asked out.” 

“No, I’m not. I’m protecting you, cause if you don’t ask, you won’t be ridiculed.” 

You imagine he looks offended, because he sounds it. 

“Do you think I give a shit what anyone thinks?”

“It’s isolating, Peter. I’d feel like I’d bring you down, and you don’t deserve that.” You take a breath, “you’re very kind, and I really like that.” 

“You’re kind too, and smart, and really, very, pretty. And I think once you have a boyfriend and a friend group, things won’t be so bad and everyone will forget why they teased you.” 

You hum, playing with your nails and chewing at your bottom lip, silence took over. It was a rush of a lot of emotions, you’re shocked and excited. You’re also panicked and jittery. It was everything you feared and wished for at once. 

Peter Parker is asking to be in your life, no matter the cost. 

That’s the bravest thing you’ve ever witnessed. 

Clearing your throat, “who would be my boyfriend?” 

Peter pretended to think about it, “you could have whoever you want.” 

“Anything you want, it’s yours.” An immediate flashback to the first day he sat with you, you mumbled out the words and scooted, just an inch, from the wall. 

“What was that?” 

You announce it, moving forward another inch, “anything you want, it’s yours. You said that at lunch the first day you sat with me, do you still mean it?” 

There’s just something you’ve been dying to do, something you’ve been wanting to do. And he said whatever you wanted. 

“Whatever you want, I mean it.” He sounds sincere too, you move forward a few inches. 

“Have you kissed anyone before?” 

Peter doesn’t understand the correlation but he’ll entertain it. “Yes?” 

You offer up more information, hoping he’d catch the hint. “I haven’t.” 

He doesn’t. “That’s no biggie, I think over half the school-” 

You speak over him, “but, I want to.” 

It takes Peter a second to register it, and when he does he almost collapses. 

“Oh. I see. Um, want me to come in there, or you come out here?” 

Your heart races, he’s so willing to do whatever with no qualms, you just asked and he’s delivering. You were about to have your first kiss with your number one crush, and he liked you too. 

“Wait, you’re gonna do it?” You’ve never been so excited. Or anxious. Were these the butterflies people talk about? 

“I’m sorry, did I read that wrong?” 

“No, you’re just… right now?” You think you’ll puke all over him, that’s why you’re stalling. 

You can see Peter drum his fingers over his pants, “do you wanna hold off for a second? I’ll do it whenever you want.” 

Your heart clenches, “Peter,” you groan out his name, “stop being so nice, it hurts.” Waiting a moment before continuing, “I’m gonna suck, and you won’t like me anymore.” 

God, you wish you could see the cocky grin smear, you can hear it, but you want to face him more than anything. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose. He knows you can’t stay hidden forever. 

“Wanna bet?” 

Why not? If you really think about the last year and change of high school, what else would you really have to lose? 

Plus, he was really cute. 

Overwhelmed with the knowledge of knowing you were about to have your first kiss, you slowly shimmied to the edge of the bed, right where you were before you hightailed it backwards. 

Peter looks even better than you’ve pictured, his hair fluffy from where he ran his hands through it. A greeting smile rested on him, and his bright brown eyes warmed. “Well, hello there, I was afraid you got lost.” 

Sucking the life force from your bravery, “I was told there would be kisses out here.” 

A surprised look crossed Peter before he fell back into neutral, pushing off his desk to glide over in front of you, his knees knocking yours, suddenly you feel panicky again. “There absolutely can be.” 

Peter catches your nerves and figures it’d be easier to actually get it over with, because the second he would pull away all panic would hit near bottom ground. Using what little skill he has, he rests his right hand on your thigh while his left cups your face. 

You suck in a breath, following his guide when he brings your face up to his. Peter swipes his thumb across your cheekbone and you feel everything in you be set ablaze with desire. 

You wonder if he can feel how warm your cheek is under his touch, if he does, he doesn’t comment. When you give him no disagreement he leans in, he can hear your breath hitch, it brings him a little pleasure to be the ‘cool’ one in the situation. 

When he’s closer than you would’ve ever imagined he gives you a grin, “hi.” It was a hushed whisper, you give him one back, “hi.” Your eyes flash from his gaze to his mouth, you were caught, it makes you look down at your hands. 

Your mind spirals, why hasn’t he kissed you yet, and also, what do you do with your hands? Giving it a shot you press them against Peter’s chest, but it feels like you’re pushing him off, so you move to his shoulders but it doesn’t feel quite right. 

“Want some help?” Peter caught on to your struggle, of course he did, he just notices the little things with you. He doesn’t even pull away, just bringing his hand that was on your thigh to bring your left hand around his neck. Your right hand outstretched to rest on his ribcage, when you look back he seems much closer, this time he’s looking at your mouth. 

“Do-” 

Peter cuts you off, a hushed whisper, “I’m gonna kiss you now,” you breathe in sharply, “oh, okay.” Peter can’t fight the smile, “is it?”

You don’t get a chance to answer, his mouth is on yours, and it’s heaven. You feel like you’re floating, his lips velvety smooth, the only way you know how to show your shock and appreciation is by gripping his shirt. Peter’s bottom lip favored your top lip, moving into his kisses awkwardly. He was much more experienced, but he didn’t make you feel overwhelmed, it felt like he was guiding you. 

You didn’t feel like you were doing much, but it felt like everything you imagined. It made you dream of a day where you could do this with him whenever you wanted. It felt like he was pulling away, you refused to part and followed him, holding tight to his flannel. It failed when he was able to push you away with ease. 

Peter sounded slightly winded, you were blinking with stars in your eyes, your heartbeat in your throat, and just a little shy to look at him. “Funny thing about kissing, you gotta breathe to keep doing it.” 

You're new to it, gulps of fresh air weren’t as refreshing as him. You wanted to kiss him again, but you didn’t want to put him out, and you still weren’t sure how to initiate or ask for it. 

Peter tapped on your knee, “wanna take me out for another test drive or are you happy with your purchase?” 

He wanted to do it again. 

That’s a good thing. 

“If I buy it, does that mean the test drives stop?” 

“Of course not. That just means you don’t need to ask to drive it.” 

You lean in this time, “but I have to ask now?” 

Peter speaks against your lips, “it would be the customary thing to do.” 

“Well then,” you speak softly and look at him, “would you kiss me again?” 

Your eyes close when he brushes against your mouth, a kiss is pressed to the corner of your cheek, “depends, are you planning on purchasing?” 

Boldly, you give him a chaste kiss, “everyone at school is gonna hate my new car.” 

Peter kisses your cheek, “best in show, baby. Best in show.” 

You take a deep breath, it wasn’t a bad thing to need someone. And it wouldn’t be bad to let yourself have them. 

Peter Parker heard everything everyone said but he wasn’t even listening, it felt dizzying, for the first time someone saw the real you, the good you and wanted you. He wanted nothing and everything at the same time. You liked him, maybe a bit too much, and the risk of losing him was enough to send you flying. But the chance of love, and hope and trust was even bigger. 

Someone wasn’t scared to have a big reputation with you. Peter Parker was proud to have the same big enemies as you. 

And for that reason, 

“Sold.” 

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Good Cop, Bad Cop feat. John Wick

Basically Soft!JW and Mean!JW brain rot - can’t get this shit outta my head or my drafts. Do not read this. I had to take a damn shower after I wrote it. NSFW / Eplicit Content / hitting & name-calling & dubcon

Of course, he’s soft John, who holds opens doors, pulls out chairs, gives away his coat

Little kisses all over your face til’ his jaw is sore just to make you breathless and giggly

Sickeningly sweet and charming, magnetizing in his kindness 

Master of tickle fights 

Deep laughter that rumbles through his entire body

Languid, big tongue never in a hurry

Of course, he takes mental note of your erogenous zones and sensitive spots

Makes sure you come first 

John Wick sucks toes. If you’re ticklish, oh well, he’s putting your foot in his mouth and holding you down or tying you up. Also gives fantastic foot massages with hands and tongue. 

Patient, frustrated John, big plump tip leaking and twitching, giving your fluttering cunt time to stretch and settle around it

Holding your hips down into the mattress and suckling your bloated pussy until the blue light of dawn - until he drinks you dry - don’t worry, though, he’s got the bottle of unscented, water based lube right there and plenty of saliva to keep you slippery - “we don’t want you to chafe, baby,” he coos, worrying a sloppy kiss to your overworked clit

He’s self-aware enough to recognize that his smooth voice is an effective weapon, especially when he’s talking you through taking his cock. Man of few words doesn’t mean he can’t use them the exact right way

“That’s my girl.” “Yeah, that feel good?” “Right there?” “Look at you.” “Gorgeous,” thrust, “irresistible,” thrust, “so fuckin’ sexy.”

Don’t get me started on the Russian dirty talk. Do you know what he’s saying? Absolutely not. Is it still more effective than English? Absolutely yes.

But, realistically, there’s also bully John, who always gets what he wants one way or another

Doesn’t matter how tough you think you are, this man is made of tall, corded muscle. 

Huge, mean, committed and determined, stalking toward you and letting you know, without words, that you’re fucked

Doesn’t matter how soft he tries to be, there’s still that rough undertone that always gets the best of him

You know he’s such a sweetie, but he gets so jealous sometimes. It’s to the point where he doesn’t let you touch yourself or use vibrators unless he’s controlling the scene

The charade of your innocence is over when, one night, you’re drunk, straddling his lap and kissing his collar and you can tell he’s trying not to fuck you stupid

“John,” you say, “you know I’m a big girl. You can do what you want.”

“It’s gonna hurt,” he replies, smoothing over your flushed cheekbone

“Good,” you tell him, “hurt me.”

You’ll live to regret it

He feels a little guilty that that’s all the more coaxing he needs to keep you stuffed full of his dick and crying from overstimulation as often as he can

“We’re lucky you’re on birth control,” he grits out, the wet slap of his balls against your ass as he destroys your cervix 

More filthy, awful shit from his mouth as he manhandles you into a position where he can bite your flesh and whisper in your ear and bottom out in the sanctuary of your cunt

“Cockdrunk slut, huh?” - “It would be easier if this stubborn pussy would ever loosen up a little bit. Shame.” 

He keeps you fat and red and sore and full of cum, always 

You stopped begging him for reprieve - eventually

Heavy handed John, bruising your ass a little too much, hitting you hard enough to make your teeth knock together. 

One day, he’s gonna keep you locked up in a big house, collar around your neck, always wearing too-tight clothes and overly feminine fetish outfits that would make a stripper blush 

Run, hide, fight 

There’s no getting away from the Boogeyman

Plus, he likes the chase

[girlboypersonthingy]

ARCANE RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS 💘🦋💘🦋

THIS IS MY FIRST ARCANE POST YAY 🎉 Please enjoy some basic headcanons about being in a relationship with Vi and Jinx (separately tho…)

VI 💘

This woman will literally kill someone for you. Like actually, murder someone with her bare hands just to protect you. You’re 90% of her impulse control. You’re always the one to hold her back.

She totally has a soft spot for you but will NEVER show it. She wants to maintain her tough guy reputation. She talks to you like she does to anyone else unless you’re alone, just the two of you. Then her voice gets quiet and her facial features soften and she just wants to lay in bed and relax with you all day.

When you’re alone with her, she doesn’t get sappy or sweet or cuddly, she often just wants to be in the same room as you and bask in the comfortable silence. There’s always so much chaos going on around her, she loves your calming and quiet presence.

PLAY WITH HER HANDS!!! Just pull her hand to you and gently fiddle with her fingers, tickle her palm, rub your thumb over her knuckles. She’ll give you the cutest smile as she watches your hands dance around her own.

Bonus points if you bandage her bruised and bloody hands after a fight and then gently kiss her throbbing knuckles.

The first time you expressed any kind of romantic feelings for her, she was straight up like “Me?” *looks over her shoulder* “Me??? Are you sure about that?” She has never had anyone who’s liked her like this and while she feels the same for you, she’s just shocked that you actually want to be her partner and show her affection.

She’s always figured her resting bitch face would scare off anyone who wanted to be her friend or romantic partner. But you can see right through that. You don’t just see Vi the rebel badass, you see Vi the big sister, Vi the jokester, Vi when she’s sad, Vi when she’s excited, Vi when she misses her sister dearly.

You’re the only person, besides Jinx and Vander, that she’s ever cried in front of. When it happened the first time, she just hoped you’d be okay with it and not push her away. This was new for you both but you’re always there with open arms and sweet, consoling words.

She doesn’t get flustered very easy and it’s lowkey hard to flirt with her. You say something like “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven? Bc you’re an angel sent from above.” And she’s just rolling her eyes so hard.

But after a while, she starts flirting back with you and you can’t keep it together. Mostly bc her flirting is so blunt and to the point, it’s shocking.

“Nice ass.” “You’re so hot.” “I wanna make out with you so bad right now.” “Get over here and sit on my lap.”

And every time something like that leaves her mouth, you’re a blushing stuttering mess and she finds it hilarious. She LIVES for the fact that your flirting does nothing to her but her flirting makes you nearly pass out every. single. time.

She HATES when you call her pet names like babe, baby, honey, darling. She’ll glare at you if you let one slip out and you’re just like 😳 oops sorry Ma’am. Plz don’t hit me.

Actually, one time she did hit you. It only happened once but she still can’t forgive herself for it. You spoke out of line about Jinx, explaining that you’re concerned for Vi’s safety every time she goes out to try and reconnect with her sister.

Before you could further explain that you’d like her to be more careful and maybe you could go along with her for support, she smacked you hard across the face with tears welling up in her eyes. She felt like you just didn’t understand how important her sister is to her.

That night, she actually did get cuddly with you and apologized at least 1000000 times and even cried a bit, begging you to forgive her. She even offered to let you hit her back. She felt that she needed to be punished but how could you ever blame her for reacting how she’s always reacted. Fighting is all she’s ever known.

All in all, you are slowly but surely changing her for the better. She’s become less aggressive and more patient with you around. You give her clarity and often calm her down when she’s worked up. You two are still working on her anger issues together.

JINX 🦋

GIRL IS OBSESSED WITH YOU 1000% EVERYDAY, EVERYNIGHT ITS ALL ABOUT YOU

She’s way more affectionate and sappy than her older sister. She just wants to be touching you every second of the day. You’re going to the bathroom? She’s waiting right outside the door. You’re working on a new gadget? She’s hugging you from behind and watching over your shoulder. You’re trying to take a nap? She’s either napping too, all cuddled up against you or she’s violently shaking you awake bc she’s bored and wants someone to talk to.

She’s constantly praising and complimenting you. She didn’t get that a lot as a kid and still gets told way too much that she’s a fuck up and a mistake and a walking red flag. So, one of her main love languages is words of affirmation.

And when you compliment or praise her, she’s ALL. OVER. YOU.

“Nice, Jinx! You’re amazing! I love you so much.” And she’s like 🥹❤️‍🔥 “KISS ME ON THE MOUTH RIGHT NOW!”

She is your comfort person, and you are hers. If you’re ever nervous, stressed or feeling shy she likes to take the lead with things. She’ll hold your hand and pull you along, she’ll stand in front of you protectively, she’ll do all the talking, she’ll glance over to check on you every few seconds. In return, you give her so so so much confidence and you make her feel so loved and appreciated.

She’s honestly exactly the same when you two are alone as she is when she’s out causing chaos Topside. She’s loud and goofy and wild and can’t stay still for even a second. The only difference is, when you two are alone, she gets extra clingy and just wants to do all the things couples normally do when they’re alone. She wants to kiss you and hug you and hold your hand and start tickle fights and play with your hair and whisper sweet nothings into your ear. She’s actually sooooo romantic, it’s almost disgusting.

Y’all never even agreed to start dating or anything. The first day she met you, she was just like “wow, I think I’m in love with you??? Please never ever leave me. You’re mine now, sorry not sorry.”

BRUH SHES SO JEALOUS 🚨‼️💔 She’ll literally go ape shit on anyone trying to take you away from her. Even if it’s some super top secret meeting that you have to be at, she’s sitting right beside you no matter what anyone else says.

She sees you talking to someone and they are standing just a little too close to you, their smile just a little too flirty for her liking and she’s right by your side in an instant.

“(Y/N). Who’s this? Oh me? Im Jinx. Im their girlfriend, their lover, the apple of their eye, their PRIDE AND JOY SO BACK OFF, PAL!”

She trusts you more than anyone else in her life, it’s other people she doesn’t trust. She knows you’re loyal and only have eyes for her, but she still gets pissed when someone tries to flirt with you.

She’s a little bit possessive, she just can’t help it. She’s afraid you’ll leave her eventually or suddenly disappear just like everyone else has. So she likes to always have eyes on you and always know your whereabouts. Privacy? As Jinx’s partner? Never!

That being said, you’re both so comfortable with each other. You’ve seen each other in a blind rage, sobbing your eyes out, screaming and dancing excitedly when something goes your way. You’ve seen each other sick, tired, grumpy, depressed, stressed, injured, you name it!

Long story short, you love each other in sickness and in health, for poor or for rich, for better or for worse…till death do you part~

[parkerflix]

— house of balloons

ethan landry x gn!reader (hint of chad x reader)

wc: 1.05k

warnings: huge spoiler warning for scream 6, blood, violence, descriptions of aforementioned blood & violence, angst(?), one sided affections

synopsis: the betrayal you had felt hurt almost as much as the wounds left. almost.

a/n: my first scream fic i literally have been thinking about this i just needed to word dump sorry if it’s a little messy i’m rusty

you weren’t sure how you had gotten it wrong.

clutching your right side, you hissed at the pain that came with applying the pressure on your wound.

your ears were still ringing from the shots fired, and you weren’t sure if kirby was alive or dead.

detective bailey was going some long tangent, ones just like you had seen in horror movies a thousand times before with him.

quinn was busy glaring at sam and tara, her pupils blown wide as if she had been doing something else.

“hey sweetheart, where’s your head at?”

you whipped your head around to look at him, the one who had lied to you and was trying to kill you.

ethan waved his knife at you, a smile growing on his face once he realized you had snapped out of your daze.

“can’t have you missing everything. i’m surprised you hadn’t figured it out before. it was so fucking simple, right in front of you the whole time! unless you’re too stupid to have even considered me a suspect! mindy was right to be concerned and suspicious about me. a shame she had to die really.”

“fuck you.”

a sharp blade quickly sliced your left arm, making you cry out in pain.

quinn had a satisfied smile, and pointed the knife directly towards you.

“don’t talk to him like that!”

“quinn you’re a fucking psycho whore!” tara shouted at her, pulling you closer to both her & sam.

“you call it whore, i call it sex positive. you’re going to die anyways you bitch so it doesn’t matter what you say.”

sam seemingly had enough of all three of them, and whacked quinn over the head with the brick, a crack being heard and her laying on the ground.

it quickly became chaos after that, sam and tara running and fighting off both detective bailey & quinn fairly easy. you had run back to the lobby, as fast as you possibly could with your injuries. you could feel yourself losing more & more blood, your vision getting significantly more spotted.

reaching chad, you kneeled down next to him, trying to find a pulse, a sign that he was still alive. he was your best friend, and you were unwilling to accept that he was dead.

you start shaking his arm, about to call out him name when you felt a blade stab your other side. you turned your head around when the knife was retracted from your side, only to see ethan standing over you.

your eyes grew wide, not registering what happened next.

ethan stabbed you once more in the same spot, twisting the knife kneeling in front of you.

“i cant believe you would still run to chad during all of this. i thought you were smarter than that. i never wanted to hurt you. i just wanted you to see that he was bad for you.”

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you spat at him, ethan twisting the knife even more with a grin when he saw you were struggling to breathe.

“it was obvious. in all the time we spent together, it was obvious that i’m in love with you. but you wouldn’t shut up about chad, and i figured with him out of the way, you would see i’m here for you. a shame that i was wrong about you. now i have to kill you.”

he pulled the knife out of your side, and threw you onto the ground. he came and straddled you, thighs pinning your waist in place. you looked around frantically, not wanting to just be at his will.

a concrete block was just in your reach, fingertips ghosting over the edge of the hole in it.

“you know, i really loved you. we could’ve made it work.”

ethan brought his arms up and was about to plunge the knife deep into your chest, when you swung the concrete block, slamming it into his head. the force you used knocked ethan off of you and onto the ground, making him drop the knife and lay there unmoving.

you had watched countless horror movies with ethan, always getting frustrated with the characters when they never bothered to make sure the killers were dead. you quickly rose to your knees, ignoring how blurry your vision was, and grabbed both the cinder block and the knife that had fell not far enough from ethan’s reach as you would like. you pocketed the knife, wanting it just in case.

you quickly straddled yourself on top of him, and swung the block towards his head with as much force as you could muster. you repeated it as much as you could, tears streaming down your face as you heard the cracking of his bones in his head.

after a few blows to his head, and his hair being matted with his blood, you grabbed the knife, leaned forward and with your last bit of energy, plunged the knife through ethan’s heart. you twisted it, a sob leaving your mouth as you never had wanted to be in this position again. you laid on top of ethan for a moment, sobs racking your entire body as you came to terms with what just happened.

you don’t know when you had blacked out, maybe the blood loss, maybe the adrenaline finally leaving your body, but when you came to, you thought you were dead.

opening your eyes, you quickly took a full scan of the room, not quite sure where you were.

looking to your right side, you saw your iv and heart monitor and everything clicked into place.

“hey.”

you turned your head to see chad in the same room as you, in his bed 10 feet away from you.

he waved at you, confusion riddling your face as you tried to remember what had happened.

“don’t frown like that, or else you’re going to get wrinkles.”

you rolled your eyes at him, before asking him the question that was waiting to come out.

“and the others?”

“they’re safe. we’re safe.”

as soon as he said those words, relief washed over you, and you felt yourself tearing up. somehow you had survived two sets of serial killers. you knew that maybe right now, you wouldn’t be fine, but you had hope that maybe you could be.

[pisoprano]

I tried to get a fic done today for the Kwami Swap Day of Loveybug AU Week, but I hit writer's block and the fic just isn't coming together. So instead, I'm just going to share an unpolished snippet here, plus a picture of Bugwalker's design that I drew while trying to get unblocked from writing.

Enjoy!

Snippet below the cut.

“Make sure you don’t turn into you know who,” Tikki whispered to him as he put in the earrings.

Right, he might end up turning into Mister Bug if he wasn’t careful.  He focused on the original seed of his Catwalker transformation—being everything his father wanted him to be, projecting the image of the Gabriel brand, a perfect model and obedient son.  Adrien breathed in. “Tikki, spots on!

He looked over himself—still formal in the Catwalker way, but he now wore a black and red tailcoat with tails reminiscent of ladybug wings.

He returned to the room Loveybug had told him to send Plagg to and found…

His lady.  Right there, plain as day.  He might not have seen her use his miraculous very much, but she was Lady Noire down to the last detail—the braid, the gloves, the boots, the eyes.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he said, tears starting to well in his eyes.  He’d assumed the worst, that she’d died, that she’d caught a debilitating illness, that Monarch had kidnapped her and was torturing everything she knew out of her.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” she replied, eyes twinkling in that knowing way that he knew so well.

But why now?  In the middle of the fight, that had to mean... “Did something happen to Loveybug?”

Lady Noire got a weird look in her eyes, then looked down at herself.  She let out a “REOWRR!” and jumped so high she bonked her head on the ceiling.

“Are you okay?” he asked, rushing to check on her.  The suit was usually pretty good at preventing concussions, but Lady Noire had a dazed look in her eye that made him worried.

“I’m fine!” she said, pushing him away.  “Loveybug had to iron her cat!”

He was pretty sure cats didn’t need to be ironed (unless maybe they were in a cat competition or something, but even then, it seemed unlikely that Loveybug would prioritize straightening a cat’s fur over helping him fight off an akuma).  So she probably meant something else. Was Loveybug just scared of wielding the powers of destruction and had called Ladybug for help?

“You mean she wasn’t sure about using the cat miraculous and needed to iron some things out?” he guessed.

“Exactly!” she said, nodding voraciously.  “That’s what I meant!”

He smiled.  He was so good at interpreting his lady’s meaning.

“So!  Catwalker!  I mean, not Catwalker, you probably have a different name now that you’re a bug guy—”

“Tripod Gait.”

Lady Noire stared at him like he’d just grown an extra pair of legs.

“It’s how hexapods walk,” Tripod Gait explained.  Perhaps the reference to insect biology was too obscure, but he liked how ‘Tripod’ preserved the connection to his model side the same way ‘Catwalk’ had, while ‘gait’ also described ambulation like ‘walker’ had.

But no, he wasn’t the one who would be saying the name, if she didn’t like it, she shouldn’t have to use it.

“If you have a more suitable name,” he offered, “you may give me one to use instead.”

“I’m just going to call you Bugwalker,” Lady Noire said.

Bugwalker nodded.  His lady had never really been into wordplay as much as him.

“Good!  Bugwalker, let’s go deal with the akuma!”

[mochatsin]

WHEN MC HAS INCREDIBLE STRENGTH

You may not look like the part, since to every demon in the realm you seem to be the weakest exchange student in the program. There’s a sorcerer, two celestial angels, then there’s you. But there’s more that meets the eye when the brothers see how physically strong you actually are. Strong enough to rival even demons.

------------

Lucifer

When you first arrived here, Lucifer can admit that he was worried about babysitting such a weak human. You didn’t know a lot of spells back then unlike Solomon with centuries of experience, so putting someone so ordinary in a realm of demons can be dangerous after all.

Well, it turns out you weren’t exactly ordinary. While Lucifer was patrolling the halls of RAD he found you cornered by a large demon who was trying to pick on you. He was fully prepared to intervene and teach this demon a lesson when you quickly grabbed them by the arm and threw them on the floor. The impact was strong enough to knock them out.

The loud THUD! Echoed the halls and Lucifer was… utterly speechless. What is that brute strength?! That was not recorded in your files at all. But he quickly composes himself as he makes his way towards you. The way you were apologizing really contrasts to how physically aggressive you could be. 

“No need to apologize MC. You’ve shown that demon a proper lesson indeed, I just need to drag them to the student council for a stern punishment.” He says and before he could do anything, you put the demon over your shoulder and made your way to the student council room. 

How is the human doing that so effortlessly?! What else could you be possibly hiding? He’s starting to wonder if this kind of strength could pose a threat since you can bring demons to their knees if you try hard enough. And that’s without the pact. 

He realizes that’s not the case, not when you’re so gentle as soon as he gets to know you better. You only ever used such strengths as an act of self-defense, and even then you still felt bad whenever you had to resort to such violence. 

You’re never rough with his brothers (since it’s his job) but once Lucifer gets to trust you, he gives you special permission to do whatever is necessary to stop them from fighting. Levi and Mammon have both agreed to avoid fighting in front of you unless they want to be thrown down the floor again. 

Mammon

Another one of his failed schemes to retrieve Goldie has led Mammon to be strung up the ceiling again by the ankles. None of his brothers paid him any mind despite his screams and protest. Beel was the only one capable of bringing him down from the ceiling but he was still outside doing training, so Mammon had no choice but to wait. 

You were back from your daily tasks when Mammon called for you “OI HUMAN! Do you think you can call Beel to get me outta here?” He says, pointing to the rope around his legs. 

You offered to help him down and he stares at you for a moment before he laughs “You? C’mon this ain’t the time for jokes MC! Only Beel is strong enough to carry me outta here” He says.

Without hesitation, you use your magic to cut down the rope on the ceiling and when Mammon expected to fall on his head, you caught him in time. He was glad at first that he didn’t feel the pain, but then he realized… you’re carrying him over your shoulder. You act like he practically weighs like nothing!

“P-PUT ME DOWN!!” Mammon yells as he tries to wriggle out of your grasp and you try to make him stop because you might accidentally drop him. He remains fazed as you get him out of the ropes because how is this helpless human he was supposed to be babysitting this strong?!

He will definitely try to make some money from this though. He would probably put you in friendly arm-wrestling competitions against demons. Since no one would place their bets on a human except Mammon, his wallet is probably swimming with Grimm as soon as you win! 

Better be careful though. Lucifer will start being suspicious on how in Diavolo’s name did Mammon earn that much money that fast.

Levi

You were lounging in the living room one day when a package from Akuzon came by under Levi’s name. The deliveries were seemingly endless and usually it’s either Beel or Levi himself who goes out the room to pick them up from the door. You text him that one of his orders arrived and he asks if you can bring it up to him since he was in the middle of his games. 

You agree of course since it was only one package, with one small huff you take it to Levi’s room. Putting it over your shoulder, you use your free hand to knock and call out his name and wait patiently for him to answer. 

He greets you with a small smile as he opens the door “Sorry! I was beating this really hard boss fight. Let me take that out of your hands though!” He stretched his arms out and you place it in his hands before waving bye, telling him you’ll be in the living room. 

The sudden weight caught him off guard that Levi almost dropped the package in his hands on the floor, and maybe even fell along with it if his footing didn’t catch him in time. The box’s size completely deceived him of its actual weight. 

‘W-wait this was over MC’s shoulders wasn’t it?!’ He thought to himself. The box was packed with gaming accessories and equipment that he needed to use to upgrade his set up, and since he bought way too many it’s almost like carrying a heavy CPU. 

He’s practically sweating as he sets the box down and calls you for help. Partly because he doesn’t really have the energy at the moment to carry something heavy, but it’s mostly to confirm his suspicions. He was right, you were hella strong for carrying the box like it was nothing. 

“Y-you… HUH?! You’re like one of those anime characters that I watch where the character is really petite but has the strength of an army. It's actually a really interesting character design because it tackles a lot of norms regarding the–” and there he goes, rambling about the said character for almost 5 minutes. 

He starts flipping out when he realizes you’ve had the package over your shoulder while listening to him. Without feeling tired. “Y-YOU COULD’VE PUT IT DOWN!” he exclaims. 

Satan

It was inevitable that all those books would cause Satan's shelves to collapse. The rest of the brothers nevertheless expected this outcome when Satan bought loads of books when there was a closing sale in this local store. Each day he would come back with at least 3 books at hand and he would stuff them in the spaces of his shelves.

He was never a fan of organizing though, a little bit careless in just squeezing them in when there’s barely any room to fit. You just happened to be there enjoying his company when it collapsed. You hear a small “tch” from him as he stares at the mess in his room, so you offered to help organize it. 

“I can’t possibly let you do that, you’re a guest in my room. We can just move our leisure time in the living room if you’d like and I'll fix it later.” “... Satan, the shelf and books are blocking the door.” “...” 

You both stare at the mountain of books that’s blocking the exit, with his large shelf on top of the pile. Satan sighs as he picks up the books and stacking them to hopefully make some room, but the shelf was going to be a problem to carry. “MC, can you call Beel and ask him to help us carry the shelf?” He says as he carries a few books to the other corner of the room. 

You say you have your hands full and when Satan turned to look at you, you were lifting the entire shelf off the pile and trying to place it back from where it was. The shock almost made him drop the books he was carrying. ‘How are they doing that with ease…’ He thought to himself.

He was speechless as he watched you not only place an entire shelf back (which was large and heavy), but even stacked at least 10 books to clear the path. That’s twice what he’s carrying right now! And you didn’t even look tired. All that effort and workout just to free the door, and you act like you just did some menial task. 

Satan will probably study your history and biology because there is no way that humans are strong like you. Is it from having a celestial descent? Or maybe because of your pact with Beel giving you strength? It’s not any of those… you’re just freakishly strong without needing the packed muscles to prove it. 

Will start taking notes and observe you. Maybe even fake scenarios where he needs you to lift something heavy just to know what are your limits. If you could lift Devildom furniture, maybe you could lift someone as big as Beel too. 

Asmo

Asmo saw a trend going on in Devilgram where you ask someone to ‘hold a few things’ then start comedically stacking them until the person can’t hold anymore. It was harmless and looked fun! So Asmo thought maybe he can try that on you and see what reactions he can get out of you. 

So he calls you in his room, a phone secretly recording as he goes “oh MC~ i need you to hold a few things for me!” He says. You put your hands out as he placed a shoe box on it. Followed by make up pouches, perfume bottles, and piles of skin care containers. 

He was so prepared for this little prank as he laughs every time he stacks. That is… until his pile of things eventually ran out and he’s staring at the tower he created. One that you’re effortlessly keeping steady in your arms. 

“M-MC darling… aren't your arms getting a little too tired?” He asks with a nervous laugh. You shake your head and when you ask if he needs you to carry more things, he decides to drop the act and pause the recording.

“I-it’s a little Devilgram trend! I thought you were going to complain about the stack. I mean look at it, I can barely see you right now! How are you doing this?!” He exclaims as he slowly takes back his things from your arms, all while mumbling how maybe he should’ve done this challenge to Mammon if he wants to give the audience a laugh. 

“Well… I do have an idea” He turns to you with a mischievous smirk “MC, do you think you can carry me?” And you may want to be careful with how you’re going to answer him. 

The moment you carry him in your arms, he will never let you go. Asmo will insist you carry him around bridal style. Lucifer will eventually scold Asmo “You’re only going to the kitchen, you don’t need MC to carry you just to fetch some water” 

Beel

You were instructed to make sure that Beel doesn’t eat a single piece of food from the groceries he bought as punishment for emptying the fridge. Since it was a week’s worth of groceries, it meant that there were a lot of things to carry. 

Beel is already used to carrying 5 bags in one arm, but there was still a box of groceries left and his hands were full so you offered to carry it for him. 

“Wait MC thats—“ he wanted to stop you and let you carry something lighter, since that box was filled with jugs of milk, but he was rendered speechless when you handled it with ease. 

He kept a close eye on you instead of the food that he’s been wanting to eat a few minutes ago, worried you might fall over. Though you never faltered, and not even a single sweat. “Are you sure you don’t want me to carry that?” He would constantly ask you on the way home.

For a moment, he forgot about his hunger as he watched you carry that heavy box with no complaints. Usually if it was any other brother they wouldn’t last for more than 5 minutes before caving in and let Beel lift it all the way back. 

Surprisingly, Beel didn’t even think about eating a single bite out of those groceries since he was so captivated by your strength. He never knew that the human he’s been trying to protect all this time was actually freakishly strong. Where has this knowledge been? You could’ve been his work out buddy all this time!

Despite your strength, you can never really keep up with Beel’s barbaric workout routine since you’re only a human and there’s a limit to what you can do. So Beel adjusts his workout accordingly for you two to enjoy it together. 

At some point he asked you to throw a Fangol ball after his training, just for the sake of fun. You threw it really hard and really far without meaning to, but let’s say that Beel definitely fell for you harder than he expected that day. 

Belphie

Lucifer left you in charge of cleaning up the remains of the brother’s latest fights in the house that lead to several broken frames and vases. Even if Lucifer forces them to clean up after their own messes, they never seem to get the house spotless. 

Mammon tries to get out of his cleaning duties early by shoving everything under the furniture, and that could be dangerous if anyone accidentally steps on a stray shard of broken glass. While Lucifer was busy scolding Mammon in his office after getting caught in the act, you were trying to sweep whatever mess is left (and hidden).

You tried to get the leftover debris under the couch, but Belpihe was on top of it and he refused to budge when you asked him to so you could clean. “I’m too cozy…” He’d protest, sinking deeper in the comforts of his own pillows “Just move the couch while I'm on it or something…”

You took his suggestion quite literally and lifted the couch with one hand while the other started to sweep the dirt and dust underneath. Belphie’s eyes shot up wide to feel his entire body went from 180 degrees flat to 45 degrees diagonally upwards. 

He carefully moves to check what’s going on and he’s utterly speechless to see how you’re lifting the couch so effortlessly with him still on it. If it was Beel it would just be a normal day, but he did not expect this at all from you of all people. 

After you gently set the couch down and continue your cleaning duties, he still remains awake. Part of Belphie was convinced that he was probably still dreaming that, but you proved him wrong by lifting him in the air like he was nothing! 

He would’ve been like Asmo and asked you to carry him around so that he can sleep wherever he goes, but Beel already told him not to give you any more trouble and that he’s happy to give his twin a piggy back anywhere. 

Belphie does put your strength to good use, such as asking you to lift the shelf to block the door in Lucifer’s office to inconvenience him. He’d want to drag you into more of his pranks as part of the Anti-Lucifer League, though that’s up to you if you’d entertain these ideas.

[planet-dusk]

of cats 'n' dogs // l.mh

all you want for christmas is to try your hand at taking control in bed. you didn't think your unwavering boyfriend would agree; but what he didn't expect was to enjoy it this much.

⛓️ PAIRING :: lee minho x f!reader

⛓️ GENRE :: smut

⛓️ WORD COUNT :: 2.2k

⛓️ WARNINGS :: dom!minho tries subbing, bratty sub!minho, soft dom!mc, praise, bondage, oral (m + f), edging, unprotected sex, cum eating, descriptions of subspace

⛓️ NOTE :: 18+ minors dni. the characters don't represent real people. this is fiction for entertainment purposes only. don't edit, copy, repost or otherwise steal my content.

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“Stop teasing," Minho groans when you lick a wet stripe from his navel to the waistband of his shorts. 

"Why? You told me I could do anything I want today, kitten." 

He rolls his eyes at the pet name but you notice the way the tips of his ears turn red. Normally, you’d be in his position: strapped to the bed and at his mercy. He’s always been the dominant person in your relationship (at least between the sheets) so you aren’t expecting him to give in without a fight. He might’ve agreed to this but that doesn’t mean he’s going to offer himself to you on a silver platter. 

And if he thinks you don’t have it in you? Then he’s dead wrong. And you’re determined to prove it. 

“Either way you don’t have much of a say in this. Unless you want to use your safeword?” 

Minho rolls his eyes again. “Continue.”

You ignore his command, moving back up his torso to swirl your tongue around one of his nipples. 

“What are you—ah!—doing?” He kicks his head back when you tug the sensitive bud between your teeth. 

“I thought you’d have more self control than this.” 

“And I thought you’d be all over my cock by now.”

You grin and palm him through his shorts, delighted by the way his eyes widen. “You’re liking this a little too much, aren’t you?” 

“Just a compulsory physical reaction. You’re near me, I get hard.” He shrugs. “Pavlov.”

“I’m sure those dogs were better at following orders, though.”

He grimaces. “Less talking and more—” he gasps when you squeeze his cock again, “—of that.” 

“Hmm, love it when you beg.”

“I didn’t—”

The words die on his tongue when you wrap your lips around his clothed length, mouthing at the head. You can faintly taste the precum that’s wetting the fabric of his shorts. You’ve been teasing him for nearly an hour now, never touching him below the belt. He must be so hard it’s starting to hurt; his heightened senses send in overdrive by the sudden contact even with the layer of cotton in between. 

You might’ve teased him about his self control earlier but you’re impressed by how long he’s holding out. He’s right; if the roles were reversed you would’ve started begging for his cock a long time ago. The only thing keeping you from straddling him right now is your conviction. You’re thankful he’s restrained so he can’t feel or see the wetness pooling between your thighs. 

You’re starting to understand why he enjoys being a dom this much.

You trace the outline of his erection with your tongue until the fabric is soaked with spit. Minho’s tugging at his cuffs, clearly affected even if he tries his hardest to hold back his moans. 

“Just—fuck.” He sounds exasperated now. “Just touch me.”

“I’m touching you.”

You suck a dark bruise into his thigh. They’re so big and strong you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the day between them. Looking up at him with innocent eyes, the scowl you receive in return communicates something along the lines of you know what I mean. 

“I’ll take them off when you’re a good boy. Behave.” 

“So I really am the dog in this little experiment of yours, aren’t I.”

“I liked calling you kitten but I suppose pup could work.” You trace the muscles in his thigh with one hand before giving the flesh a harsh slap, making him yelp. You watch it jiggle while his cock twitches at the same time. Another tiny crack in his demeanor you file away for later. “Now are you gonna comply or do I have to put a muzzle on you?”

“Fine,” he mutters. He stares at the ceiling as if he’s never seen a more interesting surface before. 

You halt, suddenly unsure of what to do. Did he really give in? Or is this another scheme of his? 

“Well?” He squints down at you. “Cat got your tongue?”

And just like that he’s flipping the script again. You mentally scold yourself for hesitating. It feels like he’s always one step ahead of you. You’re inexperienced when it comes to playing this role and he knows it. 

You need a more direct approach. 

“No cats here.” You make a show of sticking your tongue out as far as you can, dragging it over his thigh. “The dog may get one more chance, though.” You suck another bruise into his skin before pulling back. “If he stops barking.”

“And what if he doesn’t?” 

You ignore him, no longer feeling like giving in to his endless quips. You can almost hear the cogs turning inside his head as he tries to figure out your next move. 

From the way he moans when you suddenly wrap your lips around his clothed cock and bite down, this wasn’t what he was anticipating. 

“I’ve changed my mind. Let me hear you.”

Your fingers tug at the waistband of his shorts while you mouth at his tip. He whimpers louder and you reward him by dragging his shorts down his thighs until his cock springs free. 

It seems your intent has finally caught on because the high-pitched, whiny sound he makes when you tongue at his slit is nothing short of sinful. You kitten-lick his swollen head and swipe your tongue along his shaft from base to tip with long strokes. He chases your mouth with his hips as much as the cuffs around his ankles and wrists allow, clearly vexed by not being able to set the pace or touch you. 

“You’re doing so well,” you coo, cupping his balls. “Such a good little pup.” 

His squirming stills and you look up to find his cheeks flushing a deep red. 

Of course. Praise. After all the times he got flustered when on the receiving end of a compliment you should’ve known it would translate to the bedroom as well. But when he’s in his usual dom persona there aren’t many chances for you to praise him until after the act. 

You smirk and stroke his cock slowly. “Oh, so that’s what the big bad wolf likes? Being a cute needy pup for me?”

Minho is watching the ceiling again. “Maybe I just want to cum.” 

“Don’t you wanna be good for me, baby?” you murmur as you collect his precum with your thumb to spread it over his velvety skin. “Keep being such a good boy and I’ll ride you, might even let you fill me up, how does that sound?”

Careful not to hurt him you suck on his balls, taking them into your mouth while your hand slides along his cock. He’s more vocal now; letting out low groans and high-pitched whimpers when you press your tongue against his perineum. 

“That’s it, you sound so pretty like this.” Your grip around his length tightens when you see how responsive he is. “You’re beautiful. My Christmas present. I’ve always wanted a puppy,” you tease while your other hand circles his rim. 

It’s true. And with his hair mussed, cheeks flushed and skin covered in bite marks he looks absolutely delectable. His cock feels heavy in your fist and you can’t wait to sink down on it. You have to press your thighs together to find some relief for the ache between your legs. 

“I’m gonna—fuck—” Minho croaks suddenly and you let go of his cock, watching it twitch against his stomach as his impending orgasm recedes. His head falls back against the pillow. “I was so close.” His eyes squeeze shut when you slip out of your panties and straddle him, dragging your wet cunt over his swollen cock. “Ahh—please—”

“What did you say, pup?” You cup his cheek. “I can’t hear you.”

“Please, no more teasing,” he pleads. You recognize the glassy look in his eyes. It’s the same look you see reflected back at you in the mirror after he’s had his way with you. “I’ll be good, I—” 

He tugs at the cuffs in frustration, unable to form words. You bend over to press a kiss to his mouth. His bottom lip is swollen from his teeth clamping down on it repeatedly. “Shh, gonna give my pup what he wants, okay? You’ve been so good. Gonna take care of you now, don’t worry.”

You moan in unison when you finally sink down on his cock, his hips flush against your ass. Even without prep there is no resistance; your body has been craving this ever since you stepped into bed. 

“You feel so good,” you whisper against his lips. “Pup’s got such a big cock, stretching me out so well. Never wanna get off. Want you inside of me all the time.” 

Minho has never felt this floaty. There’s a static buzz in his ears as his entire world shrinks down to your voice and the feeling of your warm walls wrapped around him. 

The meek whimpers he lets out at your words are addicting. His eyes roll back when you start grinding your hips in slow circles, your clit rubbing against his pelvic bone. “Look down. Look at how well you fill me up.”

He does as you say, captivated by your pussy sucking in his cock as you start bouncing on it. After getting so close earlier you know he won’t last long if you keep riding him like this. And since you’re not used to him being restrained you miss the feeling of his hands on your body. 

“Listen, pup.” His eyes snap up to yours, big and round and pupils blown so wide nearly all you can see is black. “I’m gonna untie you and then you’re gonna make me cum on your pretty cock like a good boy, okay?”

He nods, whining when you get off to loosen the cuffs. You press a quick kiss to his lips. You didn’t expect him to become this non-verbal after his initial mouthiness. You’re so accustomed to his constant witty remarks (both in and outside of the bedroom) this sudden change in demeanor is worrying you a little. 

“Everything okay, pup?” you ask, massaging his wrists. “Color?”

“Green,” he answers, kicking off his shorts. “It’s… going to be a lot to process, but I feel good. I trust you.”

You smile and press another kiss to his lips.

“It’ll be yellow if I don’t get to cum soon, though.”

You laugh at his cheeky grin. It’s good to see his wittiness is still intact. 

“Watch your tone, pup. Or I’ll cuff your hands behind your back and make you eat me out for another hour.”

Minho groans. “I’ll take all the pussy I can get.”

“So desperate,” you recline against the sheets and guide his cock between your legs. “I like it.”

He follows you without a word, closing his eyes when he sinks back between your velvety walls. You feel so wet and warm around him he has to use all his strength to keep himself from blowing his load as soon as he starts moving. His head drops into the crook of your neck and you wrap your arms around his shoulders. 

“Who would’ve thought my fierce kitty could be such a good pup?” you hum into his ear. He likes to pretend otherwise even though he’s never been anything but soft. So all of this doesn’t really come as a surprise, but you revel in the way your words make his hips stutter. 

“And good pups deserve a reward.” You tug his earlobe between your teeth. It earns a low groan from him. “Do you want to choose yours?” 

Minho can feel himself slipping away again. He leans back and his unfocused eyes take you in. “Wanna fill you up…” he trails off, searching for the right words. “And eat you out after.” 

“You don’t have to—” you start but he cuts you off. He grabs your hips and tilts them so he can thrust into you deeper. The new angle has the head of his cock brushing against your most sensitive spot and you moan at the sudden pleasure flooding your body. It’s only a taste of what he can do but it feels fucking delicious already. 

“I want to,” he assures. “Let me make you feel good, wanna cum, please—”

You’ve never seen him this desperate before. His brows are tightly knit together. His voice is wavering. You realize he’s waiting for your approval—no doubt using all his willpower to keep himself from reaching his high while your tight hole clenches around his cock. The knowledge he’s handing this power to you is almost enough to send you over the edge. 

“Cum for me, pup,” you order and he does so with a sob, spilling his warm seed inside of you with a few short strokes. He stays there for a moment, trembling as you wrap your arms around him and kiss his temple. You let him catch his breath until he wriggles himself out of your hold to settle between your spread thighs. 

You feel his cum dribble out of you until it’s intercepted by his flat tongue sweeping through your folds. You whimper when he sucks on your clit and pushes his face closer into your cunt. 

“I’ll be your good pup,” he grins while he sinks two of his fingers into your hole, “then you can be my kitten again.”

[unluckiestmember]

Intimate Moments (Arcane Edition)

Summary: The most intimate and emotional moment during sex you’ve had with the main Arcane characters!

Characters: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Ekko, Viktor and Silco

Warning: NSFW for sexual themes and suggestive themes. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

A/N: A compilation from my last account and one of my personal favorite imagines/headcanons. Enjoy!

Jinx

It was your first time having sex with her. She didn’t really know what she was doing, but Jinx being Jinx, dived head first. Literally. She thinks she’s seen and been to heaven when she’s between your legs. The feeling of her on you in such a position made you moan out her name.

Not Jinx. But Powder.

Jinx stares up at you and you already know you made a mistake. No one calls her Powder, not even Silco! Unless you have a death wish, you should keep that name out of your mouth!

You stare down at her blue eyes expecting a scowl or a roar! But you were shocked when she whispered to you,

“Say it... Say it again.”

So you say it. “Powder.”

“Say it again.”

“Powder.”

“Please say it again.”

“Powder...”

You experience the best orgasm in your life, having the loose cannon below pleasure you like there was no tomorrow. She let her tongue work wonders and picked up her pace, taking in all of you in her mouth. When you came, Jinx cleaned you up and even pleasured you a little more, causing your eyes to roll back in eternal bliss.

She could tell you were finished for now so she pulled herself up to cuddle into your side. It took you a minute until you realized she cried to sleep. Not tears of anger or sorrow. But of joy.

Ever since, you are the only one who can call her Powder.

Vi

Vi is a wild animal in bed.

She’ll throw you down and waste no time to fuck your brains out for simple pleasure.

But one day, during a steamy make out session, you stopped to kiss down on her bandaged knuckles.

She’s taken a back for a minute.

Why would you do that?

You keep kissing on her knuckles without a care in the world. “Stop it,” She told you, trying her best to pull away from you. But you hold her softly. “Y/N, stop it...” She keeps fighting back for a minute, but eventually stops.

The brute breaks in your arms. How could you do that? How could you love someone who’s ruined so many lives with those fists of hers? It was impossible, wasn’t it? But you told her the answer to her worries and questions with a single glance into her gray eyes.

‘No.’

That night, you two had sex as usual, but this was more personal. More intimate. Vi took more gentle strokes and eased into picking up her speed and slamming harder on you.

She screams and moans your name like a prayer, countlessly says she loves you, feeling like any moment you will disappear. Though the way your hands relaxed on her hips and drew circles along her waist said otherwise.

The two of you came together before sleeping in each other’s arms. She could get used to sensual sex like that…

Caitlyn Kiramman

Innocent little Caitlyn.

Why are there barely any headcanons for Caitlyn? I-

Caitlyn was a classy woman, so sex was never really on her mind. It still wasn’t when you guys started dating. But you both knew you had to get things over with eventually. So one evening, Caitlyn dragged you to her room to try it.

The both of you were super awkward, especially the female enforcer. She would always ask in between actions “Are you okay? Is this right? Should it be the other way?” Bless her soul.

All around, everything was going well.

Until it was time to get naked. When it came her turn to feel pleasure, she didn’t do anything.

She hung her head low to the ground almost in disappointment. She stared down at her body. Thoughts lingered in her head; ‘What if I’m not beautiful to Y/N? What if I make a fool out of myself?’

Before she could ask herself any more questions, you rid her of her worries with sweet kisses. With every piece of clothing thrown on the floor, you whisper out, “You’re so precious. You look like an angel. Oh, I love you so much.”

You almost broke her down with every kiss you placed to mark her body. Your lips graced on her cheeks, her lips, her neck, her chest and finally her core. Oh, you loved everything about her.

You started to eat her, licking inside her folds at an average pace and flicking your tongue on her clit.

In a matter of seconds, her hands are lost in your hair, pushing your head closer to her to feel all of your tongue inside of her. Her moans clouded the room long after she came in your mouth. Pulling up, you both had lust in your eyes and could tell the night was still young…

Let’s just say she eventually screamed your name to the heavens long into the night and she realized two things; Sex with you was the best! And she was beautiful.

Ekko

Ekko has always been a bit of a wild boy when it came to having sex with you. It’s why you two were together to begin with.

He can be playful some nights, chuckling with you when he messes up something. Rough when he just really wants you. And romantic when you just need to know he cares about you.

One night the two of you were just having the time of your lives. He was slamming into you from behind, groaning out, “You like that, huh? Yeah, go ahead and scream my name, baby.” And boy did you love it.

Just feeling him stretch you out and pound deeper and faster in you was like euphoria. You found yourself screaming at the top of your lungs, “Ah, yes! Right there! Fuck, I love you, Ekko!”

You didn’t want it to stop, but soon the movement had slowed and the grip on your thighs loosened. You felt your body turning now to face the leader of the firelights panting down at you. “You love me,” He questioned, his brown eyes glistening in the moonlight full of hesitant awe.

Did you say you loved him? You never told him because you were scared of getting attached. He was the leader of a cause and lived in Zaun. Any minute he could be taken from you, so you tried not to get attached. Yet you said you loved him, whether it be out of lust or love wasn’t important. You said the sacred three words to him.

In that moment, you were sure as he began to stroke inside of you again, you didn’t see a warrior. You saw your boyfriend, your best friend, your everything.

He must have seen that in you too because he started to dig deeper in you, continuously hitting your g-spot with smooth strokes. His arms wrapped around you tightly, groaning at the feeling of a climax approaching him.

Together in a sea of utter pleasure, the both of you came together before relaxing in each other’s embrace under the shine of the midnight moon.

You slept well that night in his arms, letting him hold onto you with the mindset of if he let you go, you wouldn’t come back.

No matter what, after that day, you both say I love you at least once a day.

Viktor

My everything next to Jinx.

You and Viktor have been partners for a long time in Piltover, working on projects together when he wasn’t accompanied by Jayce. Though you two never started to officially date because hexcore was more important, even if deep down you two wanted to become an item.

Well, the thing about humans is that they don’t know how precious people are until they almost lose them.

Viktor found himself having a particularly horrible week; The hexcore may have fixed him, but took away a close friend. He may have almost stopped an incoming war, but he ended up losing some close allies due to the bombing on the council’s headquarters.

He had thought he lost you when the city went into lockdown due to the commotion. Thank the gods he found you that night safe and sound at your home.

Thank the gods he was safe too.

That following night, the two of you met one another at your home, where he knocked on your door. Your eyes connected with his amber eyes, and you were sure they screamed one thing; ‘I need you’.

In a matter of seconds, you two synchronized like gears to slam each others’ lips onto one another. Moving in rhythm, bodies danced through the dimly lit house towards your bedroom, where the scientist pushed you down on your comforter and wasted no time to rid himself of your clothes.

You did the same, though you found it cute and amusing that he was apologizing for his ‘inappropriate’ actions. You showed it was okay when you slammed your lips onto his again and felt yourself yearning for him.

You two grinded on each other, letting your lower bodies explore one another through groans and moans. The entire night, you two were one. Nothing else mattered when you found Viktor cumming inside of you and placing your hand gently onto your cheek.

You two stared at one another desperately before you heard the man speak in his native tongue, “я люблю тебя так сильно.”

You never questioned what that meant, but when you two started dating, he made it an effort to always tell you “I love you so much.”

Silco

As long as you’ve been dating the crime lord of Zaun, you knew damn well that Silco was not an emotional guy. No one has ever seen him let out his feelings to people, not even Jinx.

If he did ever give into his emotions, it would be out of anger, but never out of love.

He only ever saw sex as something done to relieve stress, kind of like you. You were his bitch anyways, nothing more.

That’s why he would always fuck your brains out, slamming his cock inside of you through your mouth or lower end with one goal in mind; To forget about the world and please himself for once in his god awful life.

However, one evening when he was railing deep inside of you on your desk, something was different to say the least. He wasn’t fucking you like a mad man. He wasn’t calling you degrading names and growling like an animal. Instead, his strokes were sensual and careful.

That was new. Was he sick? It’s not that you didn’t enjoy it. But why was he doing this?

You reach up to touch his face where his scar was and the man had froze up. You wanted to ask what the hell was going on. Where was the man who would pound you senseless?

Instead of being given an answer, his orange and blue eyes just pierced down at you before he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Through those eyes, you had seen the man you once knew. A man who was calculating, but somewhat compassionate. A man who just wanted the best for him and his brother. A man once had big dreams he wanted to accomplish with you by his side.

He always said that naïve brat was gone, but you always knew he was in there. That’s why you had no issue with this new version of him. It’s why you never batted an eye at his scarred eye. As a matter of fact, you adored it. You adored him.

With the feeling of your lips crashing slowly into his, Silco began to fuck you as usual. His strokes only picked up after a moment of your moans colliding in your mouth.

Before you knew it, he came hard and deep inside of you, making you scream out his name before relaxing a bit. Now panting hard on his desk, you stared up at Silco, finding him panting along with you. He eventually pulled away to sit in his chair.

You don’t know why he apologized or what happened that night, but from that day forward, Silco was more open to showing his appreciation for you…

Arcane requests are currently open! :D

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, be safe and have a good day! <3

[fumiyami]

51. knows every bit of gossip in 1A (either just from being observant or from Mina!!)

52. doesn’t really care for hero merch (unless it’s something like an accessory/something he can wear) but still gets it free from hawks unwillingly

53. he spaces out a lot so everyone in class 1A thinks he’s just being all broody and dark but in actuality he’s either staring at his reflection (if he’s zoning out at a mirror/window) or talking to dark shadow in his mind

54. SO GOOD at arguing and comebacks but doesn’t use that skill often

55. I imagine his parents to be like in a dark gothic gang or something like that (maybe that’s where he got his way of speaking from🤫)

56. when he’s older and a pro hero I imagine his fan base is mostly just goth kids and teenagers who look up to him!!

57. LOVES having his feathers stroked (or preened by dark shadow) but doesn’t ask for it or anything usually

58. speaking about his feathers, since they’re all over his face/head that area is warm during the winter and usually overheats in the summer

59. ALSO he hates the fact that summer is so hot since I can tell he’d be sweating if he had to do hero work like running around and fighting villains in THAT HERO COSTUME.

60. has a massive sweet tooth though not many people would expect him to

61. has a bunch of nicknames like “fumi” “mika” (one that I got from a fanfic) as in like fuMIKAge “toko” and then there’s mina who adds adjectives to the start of tokoyami like that one time she called him angryami!!

62. collects the most obscure things ever

63. once he like settles into UA and gets more confidence he sets up a secret tiktok or whatever account where he does song covers and his own original songs!! (class 1A find out and they go wild)

64. once got tricked into getting tipsy by hawks (got this one from a fic!!)

65. sometimes he wants to dress more gothic but i’ve seen how hard it is to find super cool masculine looking goth clothes☹️

66. due to the fact that he’s partially a bird whenever he gets sick the symptoms don’t show up for a while so when they do show up it’s BAD.

67. once accidentally misspelled his classmates names and no one’s letting him live it down

68. has a collection of rings

69. love language is definitely mostly gift giving!! (and all the other ones but mostly gift giving)

70. wears contacts cuz he refuses to get glasses that actually fit him and then wear them

71. as a baby (chick) he didn’t speak for like 3 years (just small chirps and stuff) until one day he just randomly started speaking full sentences?? skipped the whole starter tutorial😣

72. can and will randomly say some creepy fact like “if you nurture little bits of surgically removed brains then it will grow eyes.” “YOU’RE STARTING TO SCARE ME SCARYAMI.”

73. actually really enjoys gossiping but would never admit it

74. also loves shopping!!

75. mr aizawa’s favourite student (one of aizawa’s voice actors, english I think, told us this was true!!)

76. somehow knows who everyone has a crush on, who’s dating and who hates each other (mina pays him in apples for info on the drama they’re gossip buddies trust)

77. can mimic voices and sounds SO easily

78. he only gets really super mad when someone ignores him or goes into his room without permission!

79. can (but probably won’t) argue on why being goth and being emo are different things

80. birds sometimes follow him thinking he’s one of them (he is but would never admit it)

81. HATES quirks that can make people laugh involuntarily (he gets flashbacks into the past with miss joke😖😖)

82. isn’t as introverted as people think but is usually judged like that

83. got his red choker as a gift!!

84. LOVES collecting pins and keychains and stuff like that

85. someone once mentioned mating season to him and he still holds a grudge

86. is able to perfectly understand Shakespeare’s texts and speak like him

87. CAN ROLLER SKATE.

88. he can hit really really high notes (like think ballad of Jane doe from ride the cyclone) while singing but refuses to do that front of most people

89. makes playlists for people but in the end either forgets to show them or gets too nervous

90. once accidentally flew into a window and hawks will never let him live it down

91. planned to be a writer/journalist when he was younger

92. will subconsciously copy what other people say which is how he started saying revelry in the dark

93. SUPER ticklish but makes dark shadow come out before anyone even gets close to hearing his actual laugh

94. genuinely likes the taste of birdseed but refuses to let himself enjoy it

95. is always seen with closed eyes because he’s always just naturally tired so this is his way of resting without actually resting!

96. everyone thinks he’s always annoyed or mad or something cuz that’s the way his face looks when he’s just neutral :((

THIS IS A PART 2 OF MY OTHER HEADCANON VIDEO A BIT AGO SO THATS WHY THE NUMBERS ARE ALL WEIRD!! ALSO I LOST MOTIVATION TO DO THIS ONE SO THEY KINDA GOT WORSER EACH TIME😰

[deathsimage]

Finally Alone

Content: Price x reader (18+) minors dni, afab reader, short athletic reader, reader is a member of 141, reader is a sniper and close combat expert, reader is 20-25

Warnings: smut, sexual situations, language, fighting, jealousy, childhood trauma, age gap

Details: (y/c/n) = your field call name; (y/n) = your name (first); (y/l/n) = your last name

Note: for some reason during the fight scenes I was imagining Break Stuff by Limp Bizkit playing in the background 😂 and when the “good part” hits After Dark x Sweater Weather idk why but yeah. This shit is long btw, buckle up sluts. Not proof read! Lightly scanned over 🫢 enjoy Daddy issues squad 🫶🏻

8:00 AM

You yawn as you wake up to your alarm clock, rolling over to see your Captain who had spent the night with you last night. Nothing happened, just him being there for your comfort. Your depression was setting in and he could tell you weren’t in a good head space, it’s his job to notice those things. You tend to be worse when you’re alone, so he volunteered to stay with you overnight to make sure you made it through the night okay.

The team knew about your illness and your trauma, they could tell something was off when you first joined, and when you finally opened up to them they pieced everything together. They’re your family and they do anything they can to help, just as you would for them.

Price’s back was facing you, he was clearly awake from the alarm clock but he was entirely too comfortable to get up. You begin lightly grazing your finger nails up and down the skin of his back, making him shiver a bit. You giggle at the fact you have never seen him do that, and he rolls further onto his stomach so you would continue to lightly scratch his back. This would eventually become routine.

When he finally decided to get up and get dressed you couldn’t help but just watch the sleepy man, thought running through your mind…thoughts you didn’t want.

You were never protected. You survived on your own from the time you were 6, you took care of yourself and you protected yourself the best a child knew how to. In fact, all the things you seen and went through growing up, you shouldn’t even be alive, it doesn’t make sense that you survived. You never felt safe, ever. It was just part of your life..until now.

Tears began filling your eyes as you felt something you thought you would never have the luxury of feeling.

Safety.

Even in the field with bullets flying at you and bombs hitting the ground 10 feet away from you, if he was there..you felt safe.

(y/n)? You didn’t notice Price was now looking at you, already walking over to sit on the edge of the bed, his rough hand lightly placing itself on your cheek. “What’s wrong?”

Your eyes snapped up to look at him, starting to smile. “Nothing..for once..everything is okay.”

Price gave a sigh and a light smile, confident that he was the reason why you felt so content. Standing back up to walk to the door. “We’re in the sparring zone today, wear fighting clothes.” He said before leaving for you to get dressed.

9:00AM

You showed up in your camo cargo pants and a black tank top, seeing a few soldiers already sparring on the mat. Seeing your best friend Soap you smiled and went to stand next to him. As soon as you approached he got his usual goofy smile and wrapped an arm around your shoulders to give you that rough weird bro hug. “How ar’ ye feelin today?”

“Good.”

“Good. Price was worried about’cha so I was too. I think he’s got a crush on ya.” Soap grinned like he was getting high off of teasing you. He knew you liked Price, he seen the way you looked at him and the way you listened to him the way you listen to no one else. You’re fairly stubborn, only doing what you feel is right, unless Price says. Whatever Price says, you do it. Although you’ve never had a problem ignoring authority before now..something about his commands were just..right.

Ghost was standing next to the mat, seeming to be instructing the matches. You were a good fighter, you’ve been fighting all your life. Even if you were small, you found how to use it to your advantage.

“(y/c/n)” Ghost barked “on the mat. Men, this is why you can’t estimate anything, never let your guard down, always expect anything. Soap, demonstrate.”

You pushed off your boots and socks, stepping onto the mat, looking back to Soap with a shit eating grin. “Fuck Lt, why do I have to get beat up?” Soap groaned as he got onto the mat with you, rolling his eyes at your cocky smirk.

“Start.” As soon as the words left Ghosts lips you had Soap down on the mat.

“Dammit (y/c/n) give me a second to see you love first at least!” He yelled as he got back up, turning around to find you, but once again you already had his legs clipped from under him. Soap was one of the best fighters in any military, so was Ghost and Price, but you were something different. You went for targets larger men never looked for, so therefore never thought to guard. Before Soap knew it you were running at him, he braced himself to take a hit but he was completely caught off guard when you hit the mat and slid, grabbing his hands as you slid between his legs, making him fall face first. Jumping up behind him, you just walked over to him and sat on his head, causing him to aggressively tap the mat.

Ghost just chuckled over to the side of the mat, allowing Soap to go sit on the bench.

“Okay well if you think it’s so funny why don’t you go fight her?” Soap pouted. Ghost just shrugged in acceptance of the challenge, stepping onto the mat to face you.

After another embarrassing match of you easily slipping by each one of Ghosts techniques, ending up behind him before he could see you move, he was down on the mat face up, groaning as he cursed himself for letting you get by him. Wasn’t his fault, you just knew what you were doing, and it was different than what most men tend to work with.

One of the by standing soldiers decided to speak up, seeming that this small woman needed to be put in her place so to speak. “I bet she can’t be König”

Soap just looked up from the bench “I’ll wager on that. You by everyone a round of drinks if she wins. If she loses, I’ll buy.”

The other soldier chuckled and agreed to the bet, Soap shaking his head “I almost feel bad for doing that to him.”

Your 6’10” teddy bear walked onto the mat, shaking your hand before getting in stance, you both beginning on Ghosts command.

Normally König would be afraid of hurting you, but he’s fought you before..he knew he had to give his all even for this small mädchen who wasn’t tall enough to even reach the top shelf of her locker. It was funny actually, how indestructible she seemed, almost made of rubber. She would get bruised, but bounce right back, and hit you harder than the last time. She had fought to survive this long, her body just decided to keep up with her mental will.

It took longer yes, but you eventually had König on his stomach with his neck between your thighs and his ankle pinned under your arm. “Geben! geben!”

1:30 PM

You let go of König and got off of him, the both of you chuckling as he got up. He gave you a pat on the back, almost knocking you over, before nodding to Ghost and going back over to the side with Soap. Soap was grinning like he just won the lottery, the other soldier completely dumbfounded at the fact that a girl not even 5’6” could take down a mountain of a German man. The men decided to pile out of the sparring building to go get those promised drinks, not to mention they needed lunch. Soap turning to you “you comin?”

“Nah, I haven’t fought the captain yet” you grinned looking back to Price who was just now finishing a cigar. Price rolled his eyes and tossed his cigar aside, waving for Soap to go on without the two of you. Now, you and Price were alone.

Taking off his boots, Price stepped onto the mat with you, a playful smile on his face as he looked down at you.

“On your mark captain.” You beamed, wiggling your hips a bit in excitement.

Once the fight began you almost seemed to let your guard down on purpose, just so you could feel his hands on you; his body pressed against you. Feeling safe even while ‘fighting’.

“Don’t take it easy on my (y/n), I may be about 10 years older than you but I’m not that old.” He chuckled, now having you pinned beneath him, but you were quick to swing your leg back over him and throw him off of you, now on his lap holding his jaw to the mat while holding his arm twisted and pulled to you. “Never mind..” he groaned, making you giggle and let go of him. Mistake.

Now he has you, once again, pinned to the floor. Although this time, your wrists are pinned above your head, his thighs pressing against yours to press them back towards your body, practically having you in the missionary position. You both freeze, looking into each other eyes, his aqua eyes making you shiver the way he’s looking at you, as if you’re his..he could have you right now if he wanted, and the twitch in his pants let you know that he did.

Price had enjoyed your company from the moment you joined 141, loves your personality and the brightness you brought to the atmosphere. He wanted to protect you more than anyone else, especially after learning your traumatic background. He also had..feelings, that he thought he shouldn’t be having. Waking up in the middle of the night in a sweat with a tent under his blanket due to having dreams about you in ‘certain’ situations.

It seemed like hours had passed, but it was only a few seconds before his lips smashed into yours. He seemed..hungry..starved. He craved you and he finally had you. He was already grinding against you, his hard cock pressing a through his pants even through your own, it was obvious that he’s…big.

Wrapping your legs around his waist he began kissing down your jaw line, down to your neck. He wanted to mark you, make sure everyone knew you were his. You squirm beneath him as the electricity spreads through your body, the warmth that felt like fire burning between your legs with want and desire. “Captain..please..”

“Tell me what you want love..and it’s John.” He breathed against the soft sensitive skin of the love bite he had drawn to the surface with his teeth and tongue.

“I want you John..please..fuck me..” you panted, feeling his face leave your neck as he looked at your face intently, seeming to look for any sign of discomfort or regret. Your eyes were half closed, feeling drunk on just his body heat alone, inhaling his scent, feeling every bit of his body against you. He leaned up, unbuttoning your cargo pants, sliding the zipper down as he pulled them off of your legs, letting your thighs go back to resting against his own. Leaning back down, his lips once again connected with yours, his tongue slipping between your lips to dance with yours. His hands found themselves underneath your shirt, squeezing your breasts in his palms before pulling your shirt off, then his own. God…his body was ethereal, like he shouldn’t even be real. His face now only inches from yours, his lips a painfully short distance but not close enough to touch. His fingers slid down your abdomen, tucking under your panties. His middle finger slid its way between your slit. God, even his fingers were huge.

Rubbing his finger over your cunt to feel the slick he had produced from you made him smirk. “Already this wet for me darlin’?”

In response you bucked your hips up to push his finger further, but he just leaned up and pressed your stomach down with his other hand, forcing your back flat on the floor. “Needy little cunt eh?” He smirked, his breaths still heavy. Sliding his finger up to your clit, circling with the tip of his finger before flicking it, all making your body twitch and jerk, he continued to stare down at you in admiration. You were his..finally. Watching you get so much pleasure from just his kisses and his finger made him high, feeling that nothing could ever make him feel this good.

He slid his finger out and slid it into his mouth, tasting your slick, letting out a low grumbling moan, sounding almost primal as he tasted you. “Fuck you taste amazing..” he growled. Repositioning himself, his face was now between your thighs, kissing your bud through your soaked panties making your back arch again. He once again used his big strong hand to press you back down flat onto the mat, his other finger moving your panties aside to drag his tongue over your cunt, up to your click. Making you let out a loud whimper made Price growl against your pussy, the vibration of him sending stars through your vision. He seemed drunk off of your wetness, your pussy in general driving him insane; just as perfect as he imagined in his late night fantasies.

One hand still pressing against your abdomen to keep you in place, the other hand gripped your thigh. Sucking on your clit while working his tongue around it, his hand moved from your thigh to slide his middle finger inside of your wet cunt, making your legs shake at the double sensation. Didn’t take him but a moment to enter a second finger inside of you, pumping them in and out as a slower pace, curling his fingers up against that sweet spot. You only noticed for a second but Price was grinding his hips against the mat, trying to give his throbbing cock the least bit of friction. “J-John!” You gripped the hair on the top of his head as your legs lifted off the mat, shaking violently as you came on his fingers. Pulling his fingers out, looking down at your dripping wet cunt made a fire light in his chest that was already lit, but now it was roaring. He licked at your cum like you were the most divine thing he had ever tasted, sucking at your juices before pulling back to slide his two wet fingers between your lips, making you taste yourself. Licking and sucking your cum off of his fingers made him groan, leaning down to kiss you with his cum slicked mustache/beard. “Come on.” He slid his fingers from between your lips, wrapping his arms under your back, pulling you into his lap so your legs wrapped around him before standing up, holding you in his arms. You laid your head on his shoulder, eyes half shut as you were still high on your climax. He had carried you into the locker room showers. Sitting you down on one of the benches to push off his pants, his cock, so thick, making an obvious indention in his tight fitted black boxers. On sight, you immediately got to your knees in front of him, catching him off guard a bit as he looked a bit surprised as you wrapped your lips around the cloth covered erection, your hands massaging his balls through his boxers, a deep breathy moan coming from deep in his chest, his finger tangling in your hair. “Be patient love..I have other plans.” He looked down at you as he sat you on the bench again, leaning down to kiss you as he wrapped his arms around you to unhook your bra, laying it to the side. Pulling you to stand back up he knelt down to pull off your panties. You pressed your hand against his strong shoulders to step out of them, him giving your bare pussy a kiss before standing up and turning the hot water on in one of the showers, leading you to step inside. Your legs were still weak but you could stand. You enjoyed the warm water, not even noticing that Price was now standing behind you without his boxers, his naked erection pressing against your ass. You laid your head back against his chest, looking up at him with a loving smirk. He pushed your back forward, having your face pressed against the tile wall with your ass pulled to him. “Thighs together.” He commanded, making you quiver as you obeyed him. Pushing his thighs against the soft skin of your inner thighs, he slid his cock between your thighs, rubbing against your slit as he gripped your hips and began slowly fucking your thighs. “Fuck…not even inside you yet and I’m losing my mind..” he panted breathlessly.

Pulling back, his fingers wrapped around your waist to turn you around to face him, picking you up to wrap your legs around him. You both stared at each other like you were looking at heaven itself. One hand reached beneath you as he angled his cock to push inside of you. Fuck he was so thick..he may be around 7 inches but he was so..so fucking thick..

You whimpers, stuffing your face into the crook of his neck as the stretch of your hole was fairly intense.

“You okay love?” He whispered against your ear. “Yes sir..please don’t stop..” you spoke against his skin; pushing the rest of his cock inside of you until you were full, your toes curling at the fullness. “Yes..thank you sir” you barely got out through heavy breaths. He simply smiled as he started rocking his hips, his cock sliding in and out of the soft walls of your pussy. This would be easier if you were standing and his had your ass pushed back to him, but he wanted to hold you, look at your face, take in the emotions in your eyes. He loved you.

His hips began to snap faster against your own, you were finally able to lean back against the tile, pressing your hands against his broad chest as you looked at each other as he fucked you into the shower wall as the warm water ran down your bodies. The mixture of your moans was a song of your souls connecting in such an intimate way. Your bodies finally connecting as one.

His hips began to lose pace, getting sloppy as he was reaching his climax. “(y/n)..where do you want me to cum..?” He panted. “Inside..please sir, I want all of you.” Just those few words sent him over his edge as he slammed into you one last time, as deep as possible as his warm cum filled your cunt. Te sensation of his cum filling you sent you over your own edge, slumping down against his chest. Pulling out of you, setting you down, himself leaning against the wall to let the feeling come back to his body as you laid against him, your legs still shaking as he held you against his body, the warm water washing you both clean of your sticky. His head looked down, his lips pressing against the top of your head. “Glad we were finally alone.”