#i see your complaint but i raise you with : I don't give a fuck and one piece has always been sappy

[videcoeur]

c an i just say i love how Luffy doesn't care about Usopp saying he defeated the arlong pirates but also validates him in the same breath I mean

Luffy is unconditional love incarnate

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort

word count: 4.9k

summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.

warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)

a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it

a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕

Joel was never that into gambling. 

Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy. 

He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it. 

Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way. 

However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up. 

One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs. 

Liam folds. 

A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants. 

“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat. 

Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.” 

“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.” 

Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak. 

“You still have that pretty girlfriend?” 

Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.” 

“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins. 

“Fuck you, Miller.” 

“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.” 

Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes. 

“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.” 

“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.” 

You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.” 

That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?

“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.” 

“You should’ve thought of that before.” 

“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.” 

“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?” 

“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.” 

“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.” 

You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.

“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.” 

“You can’t leave, where would you go?” 

The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world. 

And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes. 

You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing. 

Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color. 

Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded. 

The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate. 

You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart. 

You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything. 

And it seemed like you were no exception. 

Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners. 

You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear. 

“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.” 

Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there. 

And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam. 

It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much. 

And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self. 

The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another. 

You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel. 

There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down. 

“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.” 

After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you. 

“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.” 

He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?” 

“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.” 

“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”

Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow. 

Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.” 

“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.” 

Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue. 

He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?” 

“God, yes.” 

You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard. 

Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.

He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most. 

Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh. 

“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.” 

Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion. 

Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed. 

“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?” 

It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?” 

“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.” 

The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage. 

“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue. 

Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight. 

After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin. 

“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.” 

He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?” 

“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.” 

You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”

Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely.  “Don’t make me say it again.” 

You sink to your knees immediately after that. 

He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek. 

You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks. 

“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.” 

You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.” 

“Get on with it then.” 

Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock. 

“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth. 

“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”

Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.  

“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.” 

As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass. 

“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—” 

His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses. 

“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.” 

Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts. 

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.” 

“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.” 

“Is this pussy mine?” 

“Yes, it’s fucking yours.” 

Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning. 

He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?” 

“Yours! It’s fucking yours!” 

Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking. 

You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger. 

“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?” 

“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust. 

“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words. 

His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously. 

“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?” 

“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.” 

His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.” 

Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him. 

With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.” 

“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.” 

Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!” 

You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you. 

“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!” 

“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself. 

“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.” 

You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful. 

You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone. 

“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—” 

Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out. 

If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips. 

“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls. 

“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.” 

“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss. 

Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss. 

“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?” 

“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you. 

Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm. 

Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides. 

Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together. 

“I think he left, sweetheart.” 

“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.” 

Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore. 

[yawnderu]

Birthday Boy — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

content: mutual pining, idiots in love, fluff.

"Hey, big guy." You greet, pushing past him while holding a cake on your arms, setting it down on his desk. He simply gives you a confused look, eyebrows raising under the balaclava, closing the door hesitantly.

"Fucking hell." He mutters softly, arms crossing as he rests his back against the wall, his behemoth frame looking down at you as you steal a lighter from his desk, lighting the candles.

"I know you said you don't do birthdays but I just thought you deserve to have a day for yourself, so I kind of... gave you a birthday, I guess." Your embarrassment grows the more he stares you down, a bashful smile growing on your face when he says nothing. Your attention is grabbed by a deep chuckle coming out of him, shaking his head before he walks over to you, skull gloved fingers gently flicking your forehead.

"Why?" Is all he can ask, curiosity tainting his tone before he lets out a soft groan, looking down at the cake decorated with a messily written "Happy Birthday, Simon" and awfully drawn skulls all over. He wouldn't admit it, but he finds it even more charming.

"Just because." You reply shortly, hands making contact with the thin fabric of his black compression shirt, gently holding him by the biceps, guiding him to a chair in front of his desk where the cake was. He lets you drag him without any complaints.

"I'm gonna sing ya happy birthday, okay?" Your words are met with another groan, his elbows going to the table, face resting on his hands as if this situation is stressing him out. He eventually nods his head, looking up at you.

"Yeah, yeah." He mumbles, the fire from the candles making his eyes stand out even more in the dim room, the dark brown now a sweet honey color, showing you just how dilated his pupils are as he looks at you. You sing him happy birthday, making a small show out of it with claps and an overly cheery voice, dragging groan after groan out of him, the corners of his eyes creasing as he tries his best to suppress the smile tugging at his lips.

"Make a wish and blow the candles." You encourage after you're done singing, hands gently massaging his sore shoulders as you excitedly wait for him to comply. And he does, hesitantly getting closer to the cake and not doing anything for a few seconds before blowing the candles. A laugh of pure relief escapes your lips once the candles are off, tapping his shoulders gently before letting go.

"Good man. I made the cake, y'know?" You start cutting the cake, making sure to cut an extra big piece for him— with what little he has told you about himself, you can tell it's been a while since he got celebrated— If it even happened at all.

"I can tell." He replies teasingly, tone full of humor as he gets up and narrowly misses a punch thrown his way. He can't help but let out a small laugh, getting into a playful fighting position, pretending to throw a few punches your way and making a show out of making sound effects for each one. None of his punches connect, of course, but you use the opening he left to smear a little bit of frosting on his arm, making him groan loudly.

"Bloody hell." He grumbles, the cheeky smile you shoot him making him playfully roll his eyes. He eventually settles down, sitting in bed and lifting his balaclava halfway, tasting the sweet treat. He takes his time to savor it, nodding his head in approval as he looks down at you before digging in again.

" 'S good." He praises after another bite, attention now fully on the piece of chocolate cake on his plastic plate. You take this moment to admire the exposed half of his face— his soft jawline and thin pink lips, hints of a stubble covering his cheek and chin, a little bit of his eyeblack tainting his cheeks as well. You feel like a Victorian man seeing ankles, grasping at straws just to admire him.

He gives you a side eye and you look back down at your plate, starting to taste the cake as well, as if you weren't just staring at him like an infatuated hyena. You're too deep in thought to even realize his eyes are on you until you feel his finger smearing frosting on your nose, a laugh of pure disbelief escaping your lips.

"You little cunt—"

[rafeandonlyrafe]

little black dress

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, dom!rafe, fingering, clit rubbing, sub space? (not officially said but its kinda implied), mentions of safe words, overstimulation, squirting, multiple orgasms, kinda forced orgasms, established relationship, mentions of readers body changing since high school

rafe knows he should care about the pouty look on your face, your complaints, but he's too distracted by your breasts spilling out of the top of your dress.

“i can't believe it doesn't fit anymore.” you whine, spinning in the mirror to realize that the dress is too short as well as tight, your bum peeking out from underneath them hem of the black fabric.

“i love it.” rafe says, moving to stand directly behind you, his hands on your waist, the material hugging your body like a second skin.

“rafe, there is no way i could wear this in public, my boob is gonna pop out if i move at all.” you sigh. you had good memories in this dress in high school, but you've grown a few inches, and filled out in places which causes it to look more like a tube top then a dress.

“don't wear it in public, wear it for me baby.” rafe says, eyes greedily raking over your exposed skin.

“you just like when i dress slutty.” you say, turning to face rafe.

“only for me.” rafe says, and you roll your eyes, placing your hands on your hips.

“rafe, what am i gonna wear to the party now? i planned everything around this dress.” you whine, sticking your bottom lip out. your black shoes and purse were brought to perfectly match, even selecting jewelry with black stones.

“fuck the party.” rafe says, burying his head in your shoulder, his hands moving to rub over your hips, waist and stomach.

usually you'd push back against rafe wanting to stay home. you like to party and see your friends, and you know he does too, he just gets too distracted when you get all dressed up, but you really are sad that the dress doesn't fit anymore so you concede and nod your head. “fuck the party.”

it doesn't take long for rafe to have your back on the bed, the dress still on but now pulled out to let your tits free and shoved up so it's just around your stomach, rafe pushing his fingers into your cunt.

“fuck me already.” you whine, feeling another orgasm working it's way to the surface.

“not until you cum again for me, pretty girl.” rafe says, his thumb moving to rub at your clit, massaging the sensitive bud.

“can't.” you complain. “want your cock.”

“you have to if you really want me, baby.” rafe warns.

you slot your eyes closed, concentrating on his thumb against your clit, the way your cunt expands for him as his fingers shove inside of you, thrusting at a rapid pace.

“oh, oh!” you squeal, feeling the sensation before it actually happens as you begin to squirt, rafe continuing to move his fingers through your wetness as sloshing sounds ring out.

“oh my god, stop!” you beg, noting the wet spot that has now formed from your pleasure.

“cum.” rafe commands. it's a simple but powerful one word as your body responds to his demands, back arching off the bed as you cum again, loud moans of your boyfriend's name escaping your lips.

“shit.” you whine out. “i made a huge mess.”

“it was hot as hell.” rafe smirks, wiping his thighs of the wetness. “want you to do that around my dick.”

“i don't know if i can.” you pout, your lower lip sticking out as rafe leans forward and kisses your forehead, ignoring the sheen of sweat on it.

“you'll just have to deal with me fucking you until you do then.” rafe stands up off the bed and undresses the rest of the way. you already tore his shirt off when he first started making out with you, but he's been hard and pushing against the zipper of his shorts, too focused on getting you off to give himself some relief. 

“rafey.” you pout as he climbs back onto the bed, kneeling on the bed between your spread out thighs.

“you're fine.” he hums, raising a single eyebrow. “unless you're using your safe word.”

“n-no.” you shake your head. you haven't used it yet, and you're determined not to unless you really have to.

“alright.” rafe smiles. “my good girl.”

rafe strokes his cock while looking between your thighs, your pussy spread open and waiting for him.

he lays himself over top of you, pressing into your chest, feeling the way your boobs squish between your bodies.

“such a perfect body.” rafe pushes his hips forward, sliding his cock against your sloppy folds.

you let out a whine, causing rafe to quickly recapture your lips. “you're perfect. so beautiful, baby.”

“okay.” you whisper, knowing you need to agree with rafe otherwise he won't drop it.

“i love you, and im about to really show you.” rafe pushes his cock inside of you in one quick sweep.

you must have zoned out for a second, lost in pleasure. rafe taps your cheek, your eyes blinking rapidly.

“unghhh-”

“you okay, angel?”

“fuck me. fuck me. fuck me, please.” you spew rapidly, feeling the need growing in your stomach and moving down to your pussy.

rafe hesitates for a moment before continuing, keeping his eyes on your face as he slowly builds up pace.

“i said fuck me rafey, please baby. hard.” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him tight.

“mmkay.” rafe hums, pressing a kiss to your lips before repositioning himself, straightening out and pulling your hips up, holding you at the perfect height to thrust into you.

at your request, rafe doesn't hold back, pulling you to meet him as he bounces you on his cock.

“god!” you scream out, already feeling oversensitive from the multiple orgasms, but you need to have rafe in this way.

“you're so wet.” rafe grunts.

you can't form words to talk as rafe uses you, eyes closing as you try to bring that feeling back, that building in your stomach.

“so tight.”

you reach down, grabbing his hands that are gripping into your hips, sure to leave purple bruises in the morning that will show around your bikini bottoms and tell everyone at the beach what activities you were getting up to.

“so warm.” 

rafes praise has your mind floating, planting your feet in the bed as you lift your hips, causing rafe to hit a familiar spot inside of you.

“shit! keep going!” you moan. “i-im gonna squirt again!”

it's all rafe needs to hear to continue at that angle, wanting to feel what it's like to have you gushing around him.

he forces his movements as fast as he can, pressing as deep into your pussy as he possibly can until he feels the pressure building up, keeping his cock against your sweet spot while his thumb rubs over your clit.

his eyes widen, a smile spreading over his face as you squirt, soaking his abs and dripping down his torso and thighs.

“shit baby, i-” rafe groans, not even meaning to cum as his cock explodes, warmth spreading inside of you from the sudden wetness and way your cunt clamps down on his length.

“fuck.” rafes head tips back and your eyes open wide, a halo of light around his head illuminating him, defined muscles toned and shining from his exertion as his chest rises and falls in deep pants.

“i-” you whine. “i need a break. i can't cum again.”

“don't worry, princess.” rafe pulls out carefully, setting your hips down on the bed, knowing he'll have to take care of the wet spot as your entire body slackens. “you did so good for me.”

despite your blissed out, exhausted state, rafe still manages to make you blush.

“how about i just carry you to the guest room and we sleep in there?” rafe offers. “the mess can be dealt with in the morning.”

“mhm.” you nod, before letting out a yawn. “sounds good.”

rafe picks you up carefully, cradling you into his side. “need to make a stop at the bathroom first.” he carries you into your master bath and sets you on the plush chair that you do your makeup in, adding another thing to your list of what needs to be cleaned as he moves to the sink, wetting a washrag before carefully dragging it over every part of your body and assisting you in taking your dress the rest of the way off.

“i love you so much, baby.” he hums out, again picking you up to carry you to the guest bedroom, barely moving away to situate the both of you under the covers.

“that was… something else.” you giggle. “i don't know where i even was.”

“you're okay though?” rafe knows you would have used your safe word if you weren't, but he needs to hear confirmation after.

“yes. i loved it. thank you.” your head is rested against rafes chest, and you don't have the energy to pick your head up and kiss his lips, so you settle for a press of your lips against his pecs.

“thank you.” rafe says, squeezing you tight to him. “for letting me do that and for being the most perfect girl in the world.”

[vashs-turtleneck]

Muted.

✧ Nimble-fingered bonus chapter.

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY) Summary: A teasing night on a rickety old couch with your beloved typhoon. Pairing: Vash the Stampede x f!reader Word count: 2.8k Content: smut, pwp, Vash swearing a lot, teasing and possessive Vash, finger sucking, p in v sex, silly little ending. A/N: technically a bonus chapter with some similarities to the first one, but you don't really need to read the first one to get what's happening. also vash's hands continue to give me unholy thoughts :3

18+ ONLY, MDNI!

“Haah… That’s it, mayfly. Just like that. Keep going.” 

His shirt and jacket discarded, tossed somewhere on the floor along with all your clothes. His pants are pulled down to his knees, just enough to give you full access to his cock as his muscular thighs cushion your own, bouncing yourself on his lap, filling yourself over and over again with his throbbing cock. 

Vash shuts his eyes tightly and lets his head fall back against the couch, letting you see the bob of his Adam's apple as he moans and groans out loudly into the room. His angelic noises mix with the sound of the withered couch groaning beneath the two of you, feeling the whole thing shift and creak with your combined weight. 

“F-Fuck, mayfly. So fucking good," he hisses, his palms planted firmly on your hips as he helps you up and down on him, blunt fingernails digging deliciously into your soft flesh, just enough to leave little red marks that you know you’ll be wearing proudly for the coming days.

You lean forward slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his neck. 

“You’re being too loud, love. We’re gonna wake the whole place up if you don’t keep it down.”

With an almost frustrated growl, Vash raises his head and meets your gaze, those baby blues half-lidded and filled with a deep, almost feral lust you don’t often see from the outlaw. He’s hungry tonight, completely starved for you and eager to get his fill of your body, and you’re more than happy to give it to him. 

“Not like I can help it. You’re so– ah! – so fucking tight. You’re killing me here!”

“I just don't want anyone teasing us about this in the morning, or a noise complaint,” you say back softly, trying to soothe the typhoon, but gentle words aren’t enough to stop an oncoming storm. 

Vash puffs out a deep sigh. You’re right of course, he knows that, but you’re making it damn hard to care about the noise he’s making. His eyes fix themselves on you, on your body, wanting to take it all in, wanting to touch every part of you, to see every inch of you. Watching the sway of your hips as you ride his cock, admiring the softness of your thighs, the bounce of your breasts, until those piercing eyes fall back to your face, a mischievous glint hiding behind his stare. Your body is perfect, like it was tailored just for him to explore.

“Then we better find a way to keep my mouth occupied." 

Vash’s hands run up the sides of your body, tracing your curves until he stops at your breasts. With his prosthetic palm, he gently squeezes your breast and rolls his thumb over your nipple. He brings his mouth to your perked little bud, kissing and lavishing his tongue over the tender skin before carefully catching your nipple between his teeth and pulling back lightly, only to dive back in and suck it into his scorching mouth. His other hand falls to the globe of your ass, squeezing your cheek as you bounce yourself on his cock. You feel his hand leave you before you feel a firm slap, making you yelp, gripping tightly and digging his fingers into the plush fat of your butt. He pulls and pushes you down onto his lap, forcing you into a slightly faster rhythm that has your cunt pulsing around him. 

“You are divine, angel. You know that? Makes me want to let the whole inn know that you’re mine," he groans as he parts his lips from your stiffened peak and keeps his eyes fixed on the way your face twists with pleasure. 

"You like it, don't you? Like the idea of everyone knowing who you belong to?" Vash grins at you as he feels you begin to writhe against him and your back arch from the sensation. His hand grasps your breast even tighter, his cold fingers massaging your nipple, squeezing it between his thumb and index finger, twisting ever so slightly and causing your moans to ring out in the room.

"N-No," you whimper weakly, but you feel your own body betraying you.

"Liar," he growls against the shell of your ear. “I can feel your pussy squeezing me, mayfly. I know you like it.”

He goes back to focusing on your nipple, and the way his tongue swirls over the tip of your breast has your breath catching, an uncontrollable series of pleasured whimpers escaping you as you fall victim to his loving abuse.

“V-a-ah-sh!”

His lips part from your nipple one more time with a quiet pop, running his tongue along his bottom lip and collecting the excess saliva around his mouth as he chuckles hoarsely at you. 

"You don't know what you're doing to me, sweet thing. When you whimper and moan my name like that, it just makes me want you even more," the outlaw purrs before he slaps your ass again, forcing out a groan out from deep in your lungs, your nails digging into the strong muscles of his broad chest.

“Look who’s the loud one now,” Vash teases, a wolfish grin splitting his face, clearly pleased with himself for making you lose control of your own voice. “Thought you were worried about someone hearing us?”

“It’s your fault,” you whine out with a pout, frankly a bit embarrassed that he can make you lose yourself so easily. 

“Hm,” he hums, that mischievous glint in his eyes ever present. “We better keep your mouth occupied too then.”

Before he can even give you a chance to respond, the fingers of his warm and calloused hand are already tracing your lips, kindly warning you before he shoves his two long middle and ring fingers into the warm channel of your mouth.

“Suck." His voice is so soft, yet his command is firm and clear.

Without pause, your tongue swirls around the long digits, hollowing your cheeks and inviting them in with your soft lips, rewarding you with moans from the humanoid typhoon. You can’t stop yourself from whimpering and moaning still, completely drowning in the pleasure of having both your mouth and pussy filled with nothing but him. His attempt at keeping you quiet is backfiring. 

“You’re still so loud. Having a hard time controlling yourself, mayfly? You're so cute," he coos, and you don’t miss the teasing tone behind his soft tone. “It's such a shame, really. You know I love hearing you, but I can't say I don't also love putting that little mouth of yours to good use.”

Vash leans himself back slightly, just enough to give him a full view of your cunt engulfing his cock over and over. He can see all of you, feel all of you– the way your pussy drools down his shaft and coats his thighs and balls with your mixed juices, the pretty white ring of cream you're leaving at the base of his dick, the subtle twitch of your hips as your core clenches around him. Then his eyes travel up to your chest, shamelessly watching your tits bounce with every little movement of your hips. His eyes don’t leave your breasts as he bucks up into you, pushing his cock so deep into you that you swear you feel the tip press a hot kiss to your cervix. The feeling makes you yelp in a mix of pleasure and surprise, jolting your body and making your breasts jiggle even more in front of his prying eyes. 

“Fuck. Look at you. Taking me all the way in. Good girl," Vash praises and smiles in a sort of reverence and satisfaction. “So beautiful, mayfly. So fucking perfect for me, just for me.”

His prosthetic leaves your breast, trailing down to the apex of your sex and rolling his thumb over your clit. The feeling sends a shiver up your spine, mewling desperately against the fingers in your mouth. Those long digits glide in and out, following the rhythm of your hips, teasingly pressing against your tongue and muffling the sounds of your sweet cries.

"That's my girl," Vash says quietly and shakily, his lips sliding along your jawline and peppering your face with tender kisses, his fingers massaging and pinching the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. His own hips start bucking against you, pushing his cock deeper inside you with each thrust. His tongue moves to your neck now, his teeth biting into it softly as he feels you moan out more. Your hips start to stutter against his, losing your rhythm under his merciless onslaught of pleasure.

“Ah ah ah, don’t get too distracted now, angel. Be a good girl and keep riding me,” he whispers against the column of your throat, chastising you and praising you all at the same time. “Focus, love. You've got this.”

Your hands clench against his chest, desperately trying to keep it together despite everything he’s doing to make you fall apart. You squeeze your eyes closed, willing every part of yourself into being good for him, steadying your hips and falling back into that euphoric rhythm that has you seeing white behind your eyelids. He’s being so good to you, after all. You want to be good for him, too. 

“That’s it. Fuck– yeah, that’s it. So damn good for me.”

He pulls his head back, keeping his eyes focused on his lap again, watching how your pussy sucks him back in every time you pull away.

“Squeezing me so damn tight. You’re so close, I can feel it,” he growls, and with one more gentle glide of his fingers over your tongue, he pops them out of your mouth, letting his hand fall to the plush of your thigh and giving it a firm squeeze. “Why don’t you let the whole inn know who’s making you feel so good, sweetheart?”

He’s right, of course. You’re not going to last much longer, and you can feel the heat rising to your face at his request. Such a dirty request from such a sweet man, but you’re in no position to deny him. 

“Vash…” you say in muted tones, and as soon as his name leaves your lips, you know that’s not what he wanted, a disapproving “tsk” leaving his lips as he clicks his tongue. 

“Louder. Who do you belong to?” he asks you again, carefully pinching your clit and making his desires loud and clear– he won’t let you off the hook that easily. 

“Vash,” you say again, a bit louder this time.

“Look at me," he breathes out, his scorching breath ghosting over your already burning skin. 

Your eyes flutter open, and at first, you can barely focus on him, your mind hazy from your oncoming orgasm. Those piercing sapphire eyes don’t so much as flicker from yours, regarding you fully and filled with nothing short of complete reverence, flooded with a primal, uncontrollable desire and an all-encompassing love for you – raging, yet serene. 

So this is what it feels like to be in the eye of the storm. 

“One more time, angel. Nice n’ loud. Make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

His face is close enough to yours that you can feel his lips brushing against your own with every word he speaks, his fingers pressing firmly and circling your clit, turning you into a trembling mess on his own lap. 

“Vash!”

You cry out in your euphoric haze, letting yourself fall into the raging waves of ecstasy wrecking your body. Your core clenches down on Vash’s cock in your climax, your body begging for him to give you everything he has, just as you give yourself to him. 

“Y-Yeah– like that. Just like that, angel.”

He moans out in tandem with you, easing the pressure of his fingers against your sensitive bud and guiding you through your orgasm.

“A-Aah feels so good. S-Shit– I-I can’t– ’m coming!”

And with a sweet, broken cry of your name leaving his lips and echoing off the thin walls – a declaration to the heavens themselves of his love for you – his own hips stall, a delicious heat running down his spine as he spills himself completely into you, painting your insides white with his hot cum and leaving you feeling more full than you thought possible. He exhales a shuddering breath and eases the tight grip on your body, letting you slump down against him.

“I love you. I love you so much," Vash says breathlessly, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you to his chest, letting his face fall to your shoulder and resting his head against yours before peppering the side of your face with soft kisses. “You’re so good. Always so perfect for me, baby. I love you.”

You hum wistfully as he showers you with his tender affections, his touch so delicate and careful that it’s almost hard to believe this is the same man who was mercilessly teasing you and lovingly rearranging your guts mere moments ago.

“You okay, mayfly?”

You nod. “I’m okay, love,” you say back, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, thighs still trembling against his own and shaky breaths mixing with his.

“Do you wanna keep going? Or do you need a minute? I can get you some water.” His flesh and bone hand comes up to cradle your face, tilting your head so he can kiss along your face the way he wants to. He’s barely recovered himself, and here he is concerning himself with your well-being. 

“I can– I want to keep going,” you reply, leaning your head into the palm of his warm hand.

“So eager, mayfly,” Vash chuckles against your cheek. “Good, ‘cause I’m not quite done with you yet,” he mutters hoarsely as his kisses turn more passionate again, his mouth focusing on the side of your neck, those sharp teeth gently nipping at your skin. “What do you say I get you off my lap and I bend you over this couch, huh baby?”

He already has you moaning again. He knows your body better than he knows his own, and he knows exactly what buttons to press to get you squirming on his lap again. Your response is a subtle roll of your hips, angling yourself so you can sink down onto him completely, and you can feel the groan he lets out vibrating in his chest. He may know your buttons, but you know his too. 

He pulls back from your neck, sapphire eyes drinking in the delicious sight of you. His lips part, but before he can speak, the sound of your heavy breaths is suddenly accompanied by a startling snap.

*Crack*

“Heh?” His eyes widen in confusion, your bodies stilling for a moment before you hear it again.

*Crack*

The surface beneath the two of you suddenly gives out, Vash’s hands instinctively wrapping around you and cradling the back of your head as you both fall back into the broken couch, its wooden supports having snapped under all the pressure. 

“WHAAGH– Eek! Ouch ouch ouch!” Vash whines from beneath you as he absorbs most of the fall.

“Oh god, are you okay? Are you hurt!?” you exclaim, cupping his face in your palms, your eyes darting between him and the wreckage surrounding you both now. 

No way that just happened.

“Ehh… I’ll be fine. My butt might be a little sore later though,” he groans, trying to sit up slightly. “You're not hurt, are you?”

“No, not at all. I'm fine. I had a big strong plant man to keep me safe.”

“What a relief," he sighs.

You two are awkwardly positioned now, Vash somewhat stuck in the wreckage of the broken couch as he keeps you safely planted on his lap, and you can feel his dick still twitching inside you.

“Hold on. Let me get off you. I'll help you up,” you say as you try to pry yourself off him. You try to find a surface to grab and pull yourself off of him, being careful with the bits of old, broken wood surrounding the both of you.

Yeah, this is gonna cost a pretty penny. That paired with how you just cried out his name so loud that it absolutely carried through the thin walls of the inn has you flushing a deep red. There’ll be no hiding what the two of you were doing when you have to tell reception about their broken couch. 

“Mayfly..?” Vash mutters, his big blue eyes looking up at you with a sheepish look on his face, his lower lip wobbling and sticking out in an adorable little pout. 

“Yeah? What’s wrong?”

He has tears forming in the corners of his eyes, cheeks flushed in… embarrassment?

“I think… I think there’s a splinter in my ass.”

a/n: picturing Vash with a little bandaid on his butt. Also guess Vash and couches don’t mix well (sorry)

divider.

[kurooandkenmasslut]

ANYTHING FOR YOU.

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭!!

Based on this link

unprotected sex, neighbours listening... nipple play & sucking, cowgirl (riding) pregnancy (baby fever guys mb 😓), slight hair tugging, heavy makeout, sloppy sex, aftercare king & drabbbbbleeeee

reblogs are appreciated, don't be shy & minors pls don't interact, ageless blogs will be blocked <3

You weren't really sure on how of this happened.

All you remember is being at your boyfriends birthday celebration at the bar, his followers, drink, sweat, and chatter surrounded you. A certain pair of cat eyed eyes stared at your figure all night, already knowing who it was.

Back to the present, your now situated on sugurus lap, his big hands exploring your lower half, peaking his hands under your dress.

Tounges tied to each other while your hips grinded, you let out a moan, feeling his big bulge hitting your clit under your thin laced panties.

He smirked through the makeout, pulling the straps of your skimpy dress down, aswell as your bra, letting your breasts be free.

"suguu.. mmhf.."

"hush angel, I needa see to them first, ya know?' He panted through breaths, continuing sucking on your nipple like a newborn baby.

You grinded harder, as if your pussy wasn't already dripping with slick. Suguru groaned, earning yourself a loud slap on the ass.

Your hands focused on his buttons on his trousers, with shaky hands, you pulled down his briefs, (with his help of lifting his hips up), his big cock sprung out at you.

"sugu, i dont think it'll fi- mhhff!" Interrupted by the sudden push sliding down his cock.

"yeah angel? take me so nicely, i think it fits perfect- fuck.. your so tight baby, ease a lil' bit yeah?"

You groaned as he stretched you out. No matter how many times or how long, the feeling of being streched will never become old. After the pain subsided, you slowly bounced on his dick, while he sat back, a big cheeky grin plastered on his face, watching the gorgeous view.

You, panting and tits bouncing as you struggle to take him, trying to be wary of the complaints of the neighbours.

But in this moment of time, you seriously couldn't give a fuck. Riding your boyfriend raw and loud sounds better than being self conscious that someone is listening. not that you could properly form a thought if you tried anyway.

Every vein, every twitch of his cock, you could feel it, making you reel your head back in pleasure. jesus, this cock will be the death of you.

A tight knot formed in your stomach and your legs were twitching. you were close, both you and him knew it. suguru smirked, rubbing his hands on your ass, messaging it almost.

"sugu.. i-i can't, help- nghh.. sugu!"

"what's the magic word, sweetie,"

"Please sugu! please please! I'm so close!"

the cheeky grin never left his face, only widening. He then took your place, grabbed your ass, rutting his hips into yours at inhuman speed.

"shit.. im starting to get- cl-close.. where do I-" he panted, his eyebrows knitted together as he was coming close.

"inside!! sug-uuhh.. p-pluhhhease!" You squealed, desperate to feel the familiar warmth in your womb.

he raised a brow, of course, you two have talked about having kids, he had the money, you had the time, the house, the two loving parents, everything was perfect.

For some reason that thought of your stomach round with his baby, your tits blown and filled with milk, whining for his help and how sore it was. that egged him on, because he imagined your beautiful face, a grin plastered on your face as he served you the weird craving you were crying for.

As if he could go harder and faster, he did. He then put you on your back, you were startled by the sudden force and speed, you cried out, no, screamed, out. Words couldn't even form in your heads you couldn't warn him that you were cumming.

Cum dripped down your pussy, squelching loud and ringing out in the bedroom.

You gripped onto his back, leaving red marks on his back, your legs around his waist. Suguru held your hips, his eyes stared into you, watching every reaction. He had a habit of being observant.

Soon enough he emptied his seed into your womb, slowing down, riding out his high. You two heavily panted, exhausted from the hard intercourse.

Suguru let go of your waist, holding your hands as he slipped out, making you shiver.

He kissed your forehead and then your lips.

"You alright? want me to get something?" He asked while he rubbed your knuckles.

"Um.. a-a hot bath, please!" he smiled, muttering an "of course,"he slipped on his silk robe you gifted him, before heading out into your shared bathroom.

two minutes later he came back, carrying you bridal style to the bath, carefully setting you down into the bath. It had your favourite scent and favourite flower petals, bubbles reaching to your neck.

"Sugu? can you join me and help me wash my hair? I'm exhausted."

"Of course darling, anything for you." He chuckled.

[charlesslut16]

hi love <3

could you maybe write for pierre :

Like you and your friends are talking about pierre, who alsways wants everything to be perfect in bed but y/n also wants to have quickes. Pierre hears the conversation and decides to show you how capable he is of having quickies with you.

thank you in advance bae ( :

-quickies-

summary : you and you're friends are talking about how pierre doesn't have quickies with you. Pieere hears the conversation and decides to change it.

PAIRING : pierre gasly x fem!reader

WARNINGS : +18, smut, NSFW, dirty talk, dom!pierre, fingering, spanking, p in v, badly translated french, curse words, public sex, unprotected sex (be safe!)

note : i hope you like it! Send in more requests and i will work them off! Love you <3

masterlist 

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Pierre opened the front door of your apartment, with the keys you had given him for emergencies, and walked up the stairs to your bedroom, as you hadn't opened the door, when he sent you the message that he was in front of your house.

His step haltered, when he heard his name being mentioned, followed by a very know loud girl group laugh. He stopped in the middle of the stairs and waited quietly.

"So what is he like? Is he like a machine in bed too? Like a beast? " One of the girls asked, cackling, and he chuckled quietly with a shake of his head, a smile visibly on his face.

"No," he head your voice and the smile on his face grew wider. Of course, he wasn't cold and clinical during sex. If there was something people couldn't accuse him, it was the lack of passion.

"I mean, he does want it to be perfect all the time, so in a sense..." He held his breath, his brows knitted together, as he listened to her carefully, being visibly confused.

"You, girl, you're saying that like that's a problem." One of her friends laughed loud and he huffed. He couldn't understand why this sounded more like a complaint than a compliment.

"All my man does for me is put it in and take it out." Pierre's spine straightened a little bit, a smirk tugged at the side of his lip. He could go for hours, and loved to go for hours.

"Of course it isn't a problem, but sometimes I just wish he could do quickies without having to plan a day ahead," you exclaimed.

"Quickies are nice, but we don't have them, you know. I can't just say that we have ten minutes before the race starts or let's have a quickie in the shower before you need to go to the airport, because well... it wouldn't be perfect."

Pierre's eyebrows raised to his hairline. He figured you liked that he'd rather wait than just get it out of the way like it was a meaningless act. You were always the more sensitive one, and so he made sure that you felt cherished and treasured even when you were in bed together.

He couldn't wrap his mind around what the problem with that was. "But the thing is sometimes, you just need to fuck without any special treatment." you stated.

His fingers tapped against the railing before he inhaled deeply and walked up the rest of the stairs. No one had ever had the nerves to complain about his performance in bed. But if you wanted to be fucked, he could give it to her now.

"Good evening, ladies." He flashed them his most dazzling smile before he walked straight to you, grabbed you by the elbow and pulled you up and after him.

"What the... Pierre..." you complained, your voice slightly off from the booze you clearly had, one glass of wine as always, but it was enough to get her tipsy a little bit.

He completely ignored her words, and walked down the stairs, dragged you with him without haltering even for a second. You could only see the sight of his face, but you knew that look very well. He was pissed. 

 Pierre's jaw was clenched, his fingers dag into your arm so hard you wondered if you were going to get bruises later on. When you both hit the floor area. He turned to the right and headed towards your home office.

"Baby." Your hand tugged at his shirt, but he brushed your fingers off with a low grumble. You bit your bottom lip, felt your panties soaking trough between your legs.

There was something beautiful in a raging Pierre Gasly, how his eyes turned from a light colour to a darker one, his determination shining through. He was always like a force of nature, but these times, he reminded you of a tornado.

"What are you even... Pierre, they are going to... the girls will know..." you said breathlessly as he pulled you into the tiny room and closed the door behind you. 

Pierre pushed you up against the wall of the tiny home office, wasting no time before he parted your legs and his hand slipped between your legs, making you almost buckle.

"Je n’en ai rien à foutre qui entende quand je te baise la cervelle," he growled in a low voice, another wave of wetness gushed between your thighs. I don't give a fuck who hears when I fuck your brains out,

"Qu’est-ce qui t’a pris?" You asked, accompanied by a moan, as he pushed your panties aside and thrusted two fingers into your pussy. What the hell has gotten into you?

"Ma copine ne peut pas se plaindre que je ne la baise pas correctement." He grabbed your jaw and pounded his fingers hard in you, in and out, fast and mercyless, his palm brushed over your swollen clit in small circles. My girlfriend can not complain that I don't fuck her properly.

Your knees trembled, and you could feel the familiar pull in your belly approaching you way too fast. Your hips lifted to pierre's hand and a whimper escaped your mouth, when his knuckles brushed over your sweet spot.

His fingers sank into your jaw deeper for a moment, and you hissed quietly. You were about to reply, as he pulled his fingers from your soaking hole and with a well planned moves grabbed you by the hair and pushed your face on the table.

The air, getting knocked out of your lungs, when your upper body hits the hard surface. You could hear him unbuckling his belt behind her and glanced over your shoulder.

Your boyfriend's big veiny hands wrapped tightly around both ends of the belt, and you felt your core pulsing with need, your ass lifted into the air involuntarily.

"Je n’ai pas le temps de parler en ce moment, juste une salope rapide." He smirked at you before the belt came around your wrists and pulled so tight, the leather cut into her skin. I have no time to talk right now, just a quickie, slut.

Your thighs quivered, and you could hear him huffing when you spread your legs just a bit wider. He looked you up and down before giving your ass a little pat.

"Tu vas crier mon nom, princesse, ne laissant aucun doute à quiconque à l’étage sur la façon dont je peux te baiser," You're going to scream my name, princess, leaving no doubt for anyone upstairs just how properly I can fuck you,

You could feel the tip of his cock against your entrance, and you tried to push back to him, but his hand came around your waist and held you so tight, you knew for sure the edge of the table was going to bruise your hipbone.

"Watch the clock. 10 minutes." He ordered, and your gaze fell on the small table clock. Pierre was unbelievable. You were about to make another snarky comment, but he was faster than you.

Without giving you even a moment to adjust to his size, Pierre thrusted into you with one swing of his hips, and you cried out. Tiny colourful blurs appeared in your vision as his cock invaded your tightness, every little bundle of nerves alive for the rough treatment he was giving you.

Pierre was a man on a mission, no doubt about it, fucking you so hard, the table moved inch by inch forwards. You could do nothing but scream as he held you down by the waist and pounded into you so powerful, you were a trembling mess in no time.

"Putain viens me chercher, qu’ils l’entendent." His hand landed on your ass with such strength, the print of his palm coloured your butt checks red, over and over again. Fucking come for me, let them hear it.

He switched between your cheeks before you cried out in desperation, the power of your orgasm nearly knocking you off your feet. It wasn't enough for him tough, not far enough.

"Eyes still on the clock, I hope." He smacked your burning red ass one more time to get your attention and to not let you slip into the bliss of your orgasm just yet.

"3 more minutes." you mumbled, as an answer through your haze, your breathing heavy as you pushed back into him, unable to follow the speed that he dictated.

"Alors vous pouvez m’en donner un de plus, n’est-ce pas?" He growled before one of his hands slipped from around your waist over the line of your spine up lightly to your hair, and he pulled you up against his body. Then you can give me one more, right?

Your eyes rolled back into the back of your head when the angle changed and his cock brushed against your g-spot repeatedly, sending all of your cells into a frenzy.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Pierre, please!!" You screamed, pierre's thumb brushed over your clit and your body crashed against his when you came undone with a glass chattering scream. 

Your swollen pussy clamped down on him, his thrusts turned erratic as he fucked you through your second orgasm before he followed you with a low grunt.

""Was that quick and unexpected enough for you?

"I petition you to be spontaneous more often."

"Next time you criticize how I fuck you, I'm not letting you come for a week." You laughed out but instantly nodded because you knew too well Pierre and his punishments were not to be taken lightheartedly.

[pinacoladaz]

Roommate Sukuna shows you how to play video games!

A sly smile appears on your face when Sukuna arrives from college in the evening and slams the door, noticeably tired.

"You look like shit."

He rolls his eyes and drops the backpack, throwing himself on the individual sofa "I'm not in the mood, bastard"

Seeing Sukuna this tired was, well, abnormal, and he had been like this for a couple of weeks. Student exploitation must have been tough on his career these days.

Seeing him in that state moved something inside you, you almost wanted to hug him and cuddle with him to take the stress off of him, but hey, it was Sukuna, he probably thought that a train above him was a better relaxation technique.

You look back at the TV, thoughtful. "Hmm... well, are you in the mood of teaching me your video games?" you take a quick look at him, not wanting to be obvious in your concern, maybe he could bully you if he noticed "you told me i need to know real games, whatever that means it might put you in the mood to be unbearabl-"

"Charming" he corrects you, then processes what you just said and freaks out, making a face "why do you want me to be, anyway?"

"Why not?" you pause the TV and look at him quietly.

"Why, though?"

"Why not?"

His eye twitches and you sigh in a complaint at his murderous gaze "I am bored Su-ku-na!"

With a grunt he stands up, ruffling your hair on the way to his room. "Give me 20 minutes, i'll take a shower and turn on the PC."

Said and done, he called you 37 minutes later, because if there's one thing Sukuna absolutely has, it's a bad ability to estimate time. He doesn't seem to care, though.

When you enter his room it is a bit messy as usual, he has his back to you leaning over the computer, clicking. His hair is wet and he only has pajama pants on, no shirt; and it makes you wonder if he is aware of how shocking his appearance can be to mortals like you.

"Listen pet, you have a maximum of 20 minutes to learn how to play Fortnite, at that time my friends will call to do a group game, and you will play pretending to be me" he stands up straight and turns to look at you "understood?"

You take a moment to process his stupidity, then scoff "With all intent to offend, are you insan-"

"I'll talk, not you, i just want to know how much you can ridicule me" shrugs bending down to the computer again.

After a while of mutual insults, while you stand beside him he shows you how he plays so you have an idea of the game, which looks pretty crazy.

When you sit on the edge of his knees to do the training level, you are not even halfway through it when he takes you by the waist to make you stand up and moves the chair to take a pillow, putting it on his legs. You raise an eyebrow when he comes close to make you sit again.

"You are as low as a goblin." He explains neutrally, bordering on the line of mockery, screaming internally at God for you to know nothing about the barely concealable erection between those pajamas.

You follow the training, and you do horribly, the high sensitivity of the character is lame, the lack of aim and of the ability to make many movements at once is also lame. Sukuna puts his hands on yours trying to facilitate the learning process, which actually distracts you and does the opposite.

"No no, hold it like this" he leans close to your ear, resting his chin on your shoulder "slower... mhm, yeah"

Even if you made the stupidest of achievements, he would still mutter things.

"You learn fast"

You thank God that you are turning your back on him so he doesn't notice your ridiculous blush, and the most fucked up part is that you don't even notice a malicious note in his tone, it's purely teaching.

There you consider the church your mother mentioned.

Before you notice it it's already time for the group call and you're STRESSED with a big S; in contrast Sukuna sounds amused every time he points out an advice to you "It's just a game, brat, have fun"

"I don't know Ryomen, who will be on the call?"

He stays silent for a moment. "Choso, Yuji and i don't know if Gojo has time, why the concern?" he hits you on the head with his finger "Do you like any of them?"

The audacity.

"Isn't Gojo the one you threatened to kill a while ago? And actually- actually what the fuck! Why do you relate everything with me liking someon-"

The conversation is interrupted by the call notification, Sukuna answers by putting two fingers on your mouth so that you shut up.

After a scandalous greeting and a confirmation of Gojo's participation, the game starts, not even three minutes have passed when they are already throwing shit at Sukuna.

"Why are you so useless? you had it literally in front of you??? what the fuck Sukuna" Although Gojo started out mocking, he ended up insulting him (or you lmao) mercilessly.

"Why are you going to the other side? pick up the box, ASSHOLE!" Yuji was getting anxious, and so did you, Sukuna only made excuses saying that the wifi was weak while pinching you, amused, and Choso said nothing for a while, but at some point finally spoke.

"Bro why are you playing like you're gay."

There was a moment of silence which was broken by the screams of Gojo and Yuji, taking advantage of the moment you made a sign to Sukuna that you gave up.

"Be gentle, dickheads" Sukuna murmurs in a mock taking control of the PC, but without taking you off, his arms simply surrounded you "there's a lady present"

a/n: sorry, i'm really bad at video games, i don't know anything about them, i gave it my all🙏🏻

[boughkeeping]

Scary love

M. Kaiser x gn!reader oneshot

conc: It's his first time being loved like this, he doesn't know how to react so he hurt you, though he doesn't mean it.

Your love is scaring me no one has ever cared for me yeah

You held both his hands and crouched in front of him "You have to look at me Michael" instead he looks up after you say that, giving you a view of his neck instead. You sigh "You're so hard to deal with you know that?"

He tries to free his hand from your grasp but you only hold it tighter, if he really wanted to he could've easily separated his hands from yours.

"Don't bother me" he mutters, you could hear him clench his jaw. "I think you clearly want to be bothered right now"

He finally looks down to you. "Ooo...that's a really unpleasant expression you've got there"

He hisses "You're really increasing my blood pressure levels right now" you let go of one his hands and rested your face on that hand instead.

"Payback for all those months you pissed me off"

He kept quiet and looked away. You sighed again and got up this time, your hands forcing his face to look at you. "Should I slap you?"

"Hah?" He raised an eyebrow, "you're really not acting like yourself, did that Japanese triple bangs guy really get you this down in the dumps?" You squished his face, he almost bit your hand.

"Keep dreaming" he got up and threw his towel away "No way in hell"

You smiled and gave him a hard smack on the back "Now that's how Michael Kaiser acts"

He looked quite flustered, cute like a cat. "That fuckin' hurt y'know?"

"it should hurt." You picked up your bag and started to walk away "besides this is the last time we meet so really, I need to hit you hard."

Right. It hit him. He said he wanted you to leave him in a fit of anger frustrated by this sport a week ago.

Before he knew you had already left.

He wanted to chase after you, but his match would start in 20 minutes.

Fuck that.

He quickly left the room, he met Ness on the way "where are y-" he didn't even answer him he just ran in the speed of light.

You heard heavy footsteps and turned back to see who was so excited at this time, it was Kaiser. He grabbed your arm. "Clingy much?" You joked. "I am" you thought he was joking back but he wasn't. It was written in his face he wasn't.

"Doesn't your match start soon?" You were worried but he just pulled you closer to him "I meant none of it"

You were quite confused but not at the same time "meant none of what?"

He sighed "Don't play dumb [name]" You laughed but it wasn't a pleasant laugh. "Are you trying to explain yourself or apologize right now?"

"...both"

You tried to free your arm from his grasp "You don't look like it" instead he put his other hand on your shoulder "What do you want me to do?"

"I didn't come here to bid you farewell on a bitter note Kaiser please just go-" "Michael."

You grabbed your hair with your other hand "What do you really want now? You're not making this easy for me Michael"

"You're not making this easy for me either [name]"

He looked like he was going to explode.

"why the fuck did you have to come toda-"

"Oh so you hate me so much I shouldn't have come either? Okay then I'll grant you that wish from today you'll never see me ag-" He put his hand over your mouth, your faces closer.

"Why did you come today, I want you back again"

He released the hold he had on you and used his hands to hold your face gently instead. "and I always get what I want, you know that more than anyone."

You started to feel your eyes tickle "But I don't want you anymore, not with how you are."

He hummed listening to your complaints "What should I do then?"

Your hands automatically found their way to your face trying to hide your almost-gonna-cry expression but Kaiser aggressively removed your hand to hug you instead.

"I fucking hate you" your voice muffled in his chest "I deserve it" he hummed, "You're a cunt" "okay" "and your haircut is actually awful" "ouch?"

"Apologise-" He was ready "I'm sorry, you're the best journalist and your hobby-" he felt a jab in his stomach "I mean your profession is no joke, it's inferior compared to football"

"-with an eight hundred words essay" he slightly let go of the hug to take a look at you.

You raised an eyebrow "not doing it? Okay I'm leaving" he pulled you tighter "I'll do it after this match alright schatz?"

"Your match-" he kissed your hand "When I win this you come back to me"

[woozvc]

better left unsaid.

req (from 💩 anon) — "mingyu loosing his temper on you and it hurts like a bitch"

read pt.2 here - promises.

synopsis - "mingyu was the sweetest guy you knew, till he let his emotions get the best of him."

pairing — mingyu x gn!reader

genre/s — so much angst

cw— mention of a heated argument, screaming, reader flinches once, cursing.

w/c - 1k ish

mingyu is the sweetest guy you know.

you've dated people, some good some bad but, none of them treated you how good mingyu did.

in the haze of the “perfect relationship” you seemed to have forgotten that people will always act as people. human emotions are stronger than we give it credit for.

arguments are never easy, specially with a loved one but they're easy to solve with proper reasoning. you hoped.

it started with a shitty day. you woke up and the power of the entire city was out so you got late to your work. mingyu also had the same start, but everyone was late to practice so it got ignored.

nothing major happened, just small things throughout the day.

you lost one of your files at work, mingyu forgot the choreography more than once. you dropped your coffee at work, mingyu got in an argument with his manager.

a shitty day.

a shitty day that leds to a shitty mood.

you got home first, wanting this day to end as soon as possible. you dropped your bag near the door and face planted at the couch, just wanting the comfort of your home. mingyu arrived 2hours later. he entered hurriedly, wanting to do the same thing as you.

mingyu was a clumsy man. he didn't see your bag, tripped and hit his knee hard on the marble floor.

it felt as though the entire apartment shook. you got up and ran to him but he held his knee, got up and walked away not acknowledging you. it hurt but you shurgged it off, not wanting to pay attention to it. you went to check what you both could have for dinner.

next thing that happened was all of his tshirts were in the wash, it was your turn to take them out.

mingyu felt his annoyance rising but he buried it down, put on a old tshirt and walked to the kitchen limping.

“you forgot the groceries” you said chuckling, trying to reduce the tension in the house.

it was supposed to be a joke. mingyu didn't take it as a joke.

the entire day's frustration broke down. he pointed out you not doing the laundry, you pointed out the power outage, he pointed out his busy schedule and etc etc etc

but never in your 3year relationship with mingyu did you expect a little thing to get this bad. unknowingly you were raising your voices slowly till the ball dropped.

“JUST FUCKING SHUT UP ONCE A WHILE”

mingyu screamed at you with an exaggerated hand gesture and you flinched. he did something that made you flinch.

mingyu said something he would regret for the rest of his life. you physically stepped back. mingyu was a tall man and him screaming at you made him a lot scarier. you just stared at him wide eyed.

seeing your reaction and realising his words, mingyu immediately shut up. he covered his mouth and put his hand out

“baby I didn't mean to-”

“stop.”

you stepped back. you looked at his eyes now threatening with tears and walked to your room, locking the door and for a second sinking down on the floor.

a few minutes passed when you stepped out, you saw mingyu sitting at the kitchen floor. his eyes we're red with tears, face swollen. he looked at you and said with a shaky voice

“w-where are yo-you going?”

“don't call me for a while”

and you left, walked to your best friends house. he watched you leave, watched you walk out the door of the apartment the both of you made a home.

mingyu was the sweetest guy you knew, till he let his emotions get the best of him.

a/n - any complaints about angst will go to 💩 anon they fuled the angst writer in me (atleast both of you are alive in this fic! most of the characters from the stories I wrote in 2022 can't relate LMFAO)

[knavves]

MEAN DOM ft michael kaiser & alexis ness

wc: 0.8k ノ cw + tw : nsfw (18+). sub! fem reader. dacryphilia. choking. edging. cunnilingus. petnames. hair pulling. public sex. fingering. thigh riding. dirty talk. degrading. voyeurism.

mean dom kaiser! who loves to make you cry. every cruel word spat from his mouth is laced with venom just to urge those tears in your lash line to finally spill over. he's addicted to it.

he loves to wrap his hand around your throat, adoring how your nails imprint crescents into his inked skin as you struggle beneath him. the way you gasp for breath when he finally lets up, peering up at him with those eyes crystalized with tears and your bottom lip quivering has him throbbing where he's buried deep inside your velvety walls.

mean dom kaiser! who edges you to filth no matter how much you beg him. the broken moans and whimpers that rake through your chest are nothing but music to his ears as he fucks his tongue in and out of your pussy.

he holds you firmly, rough hands digging bruises into your delicate flesh to keep you from squirming away from him. all you could do was sit there and take it. tastes so sweet he thinks as he moves from your entrance to suck on your abused clit, groaning against your heated skin when you tug on his blonde locks.

though the fingers weaved through his hair and your pleads aren't enough to rival his sadistic pleasure as he pulls away from you entirely, reveling in the way your cunt clenches around nothing and how a sob from you pierces his ears. "fuckk, please i wanna cum! i've been so good.. please.." you whined, flashing him those teary eyes he loves so so much.

mean dom kaiser! who can't keep his hands off you even in public. he doesn't care how you whine about his public indecency as he's knuckles deep inside your sopping wet pussy, squelching noises drowned out by the chatter filling through the luxurious restaurant he'd brought you to. he'd make you order just to hear you stutter and stumble over your words as he purposely curled his fingers against that sweet spot deep inside you but you only spread your legs wider for your lover, contradicting your earlier complaints.

mean dom kaiser! who likes to play dumb with you. he always knows exactly what you want almost like he could read your mind. he claims that he can't give his baby what she wants if she doesn't tell him but in truth he just wants to hear you beg for him.

he likes seeing your face screw up with frustration, watching as your mouth opens to say something but only a moan slips out, the words seemingly getting caught in your throat. your completely naked, the cool air kissing your skin while both your legs straddle his clothed thigh. you're pathetically rutting your cunt against him, dragging your clit on the rough material. but its just not quite enough, not enough to push you over the edge. the burn of grinding yourself into him aches throughout your thighs and you silently beg him to just take hold of your waist and do the work for you.

but he only cocks his head to the side and raises an eyebrow, "what's got you so worked up? do you need something?" you nod quickly and sling your arms around his broad shoulders, muttering please please please over and over, begging him to make you cum on his thigh as if you haven't been trying to get him to do that this whole time.

"that's all you had to say, sweetheart. see, was it that hard?" god he was such a bastard.

mean dom kaiser! who lets ness explore your body while he watches. ness is such a sweetheart to you compared to kaiser's much more harsher treatment (that you don't mind at all).

ness leaves no crevice of your body untouched, making sure to worship every inch of you. he has you perched up on his lap, slender fingers thrusting leisurely inside of you as he soothingly strokes the back of your head. "you're so beautiful, y/n." he whispers, nibbling on the shell of your ear making you shudder in his grasp. your face grows hot at his praise so you bury yourself into the crook of his neck which he only chuckles at.

"mm i'm close, ness. wanna cum." you say but truthfully you were indirectly speaking to kaiser as you knew better than to cum without his permission. even while he wasn't touching you, he still had full control over you. "yeah? what do you think, kaiser? can she?" ness rips his gaze from your trembling figure, helplessly moaning at his skillful fingers working in and out of you, to look up at the man in question.

but his response is quick and stern, a 'tsk' slipping past his lips before he commands you to not fucking cum. ness's eyes flash with momentary pity seeing you begin to cry from the feeling of your orgasm slipping away from you when his soft touch leaves you completely. such a pretty thing, too bad ness's loyalty was in the palm of kaiser's hands, not yours.

© knavves : reposting, plagiarizing, modifying, and translating is NOT allowed.

[lunar-wandering]

sugar starved

it's doneeeee like i said this is just 8k of me being absolutely nuts. dont expect plot here.

TWs: uh, biting, blood drinking (don't worry about it), kissing... (i think that's it??)

Word Count: 8.4k

Read on Ao3

“Shit!”

Well, that couldn’t be a good sign.

Wukong slammed another hypnotized demon’s head into the ground, knocking them unconscious, whirling around and kicking another demon in the gut as he directed half of his attention towards the pained swear that had come from behind him. A short distance away, MK and Mei were blocking any enemies from reaching Macaque, who had fallen down onto one knee, clutching his leg.

Even from this distance, Wukong could see the smattering of blood on the pavement.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance, then ripped a handful of fur from his arm, blowing on it to summon some clones, mentally directing them in various directions to even out the fight. One specifically went and scooped Macaque out of the way of an axe wielding demon that had slipped past MK and Mei’s defense line, quickly carrying the other monkey to a nearby rooftop.

Wukong could feel the phantom sensation of Macaque smacking the clone’s back with his hand, as well as the faint whispers of complaints in his ear. He payed them no mind, jumping up to knee someone in the face, quickly bringing up his other leg in a follow up swing to shove them into another demon, sending them both into a wall hard enough to make it break. He spared a glance towards the rooftop for a moment, checking to make sure his clone was standing guard, before shooting his hand up to grab a wrist just before the fist attached to it could make contact with the side of his face. Wukong tightened his grip, twisted to the side, planted his foot, and flung them into the pavement with just barely non-lethal force.

He winced a bit as he heard a few bones crack.

…Maybe he should tone it down a little. Most of these demons weren’t doing this of their own free will after all.

Almost as though just thinking that had willed it, the buzzing sensation that Wukong had been pushing to the back of his mind suddenly came to an end. Wukong glanced up to see that MK had tackled some dressed up demon to the ground, and that Mei was currently stamping on some sort of- walkie talkie?

The demons that had been slowly approaching him crumbled to the ground. A few of them made noises of pain. Wukong almost wanted to do something similar. Despite having not actually been under the influence of whatever had been affecting the others, now that the buzzing was gone, he was suddenly being made aware of a killer headache. Headaches weren’t that out of the ordinary for him, but with the way this one felt, it was likely going to become a migraine sooner or later, and disrupt his well fought for peace.

Speaking of things that frequently disrupt his peace…

Wukong glanced back up towards the rooftop where his clone was waiting for him. He raised an eyebrow, and his clone responded by giving a gesture which clearly implied that he should ‘get up here, now.’

Wukong let out a sigh.

And then he jumped up, grabbing onto a signpost with his hand, swinging around it and using the momentum to fling himself up onto the rooftop. He dispelled his clone as he landed, dusting off his hands.

“So!” He said, “What’s the damage?”

“Fuck you.”

“Ooh, that’s not good.” Wukong crouched down beside where Macaque was partially curled up, the other glaring up at him. “Normally your insults are a lot more dignified than that.”

“Again, fuck you.” There was less heat behind it this time, shockingly. Wukong’s ear twitched as he assessed the way Macaque was clutching at his leg, before moving to grab his hands. Macaque’s tail puffed up in agitation. “Don’t touch me!”

“Hey, I can’t help you out if you won’t let me look!” Wukong grabbed hold of Macaque’s hands, overpowering him and finally getting a clear look at the injury. He hissed with sympathy. “Ah, that does look bad.”

Three long gashes ran down Macaque’s leg, from his knee to just above his ankle. His pant leg was practically shredded. Wukong didn’t think any level of thread and needle could fix the fabric… well, Macaque probably had plenty of extras anyways, hopefully.

The blood was dripping onto the roof underneath him and, well, Wukong didn’t really notice before but… man did it smell sweet.

Macaque’s magic always tended to lean on the sugary side- or, well, ‘lean’ was too small a word. Macaque’s magic was majorly sweet. It kinda smelled a bit like sugar cookies- if they were comprised of 90% sugar. It was the sweetest thing Wukong had ever tasted if he was being honest, immortal peaches being a close second.

…Not that he had had a taste of either in recent years. Macaque magic, specifically, well, Wukong hadn’t gotten a taste of his magic since- well. Before.

Macaque’s body runs on magic now, of course. His blood practically was magic.

Fuck, it smells really good.

Wukong was getting way too distracted by it.

“You got first aid stuff on ya?” He asked. He didn’t carry any on himself and, well, using his hair as a substitute for it never really turned out well. (Wukong didn’t even want to think about the number of infected wounds he’d accidentally given to himself over the years. No, those were incidents he’d prefer remain as distant memories). He really should figure out a way to store some first aid on himself- wait. He could shrink things, why had he never thought to- shit, he was getting distracted again.

Macaque didn’t give him a verbal response, instead rolling his eyes, a shadow pooling beside Wukong. Hesitatingly, (he wouldn’t doubt that Macaque would choose to play a prank even when injured), Wukong dipped his tail into the shadow, gripping onto a handle, pulling out a first aid kit. Setting it down, he clicked it open, looking over what he had. Unsurprisingly, it was pretty well stocked. Wukong had to wonder where Macaque had even gotten some of this stuff, he doubted the other had bought it.

Well, first things first was cleaning the wound.

Wukong brushed the shredded remains of Macaque’s pant leg out of the way, gripping Macaque’s ankle and pulling his leg towards him, ignoring Macaque’s hiss of pain as he started cleaning the cuts. They didn’t look too deep, Wukong would admit he’d been the slightest bit worried because of how Macaque was acting, but, then again, the shadow monkey always did have a shit pain tolerance. Wukong leaned down a little closer, eyes flickering gold to make sure he wasn’t missing anything-

Oh, the sweet scent of Macaque’s magic was so much stronger this close. He- he really craved- he wanted-

Mind completely lost, Wukong licked a line of blood off of Macaque’s leg, and then froze. Macaque, who had let out an outright squeak at the sensation, froze as well as the two of them suddenly locked eyes.

“Oh, ew!” They both jumped as MK’s voice interrupted their… moment, turning to see both him and Mei only just barely over the edge of the rooftop. “Did not want to see that! If you kids are going to do weird shit, do it behind closed doors, please!”

“I’m centuries older than you!” Wukong replied, instinctively, before the rest of MK’s sentence, along with the entirety of what just happened finally hit him, and he recoiled, letting go of Macaque’s leg and backing away, face igniting with gold. “And- and we weren’t doing anything weird!”

“Uh-huh, sure.” MK sounded entirely unconvinced, and beside him, Mei put her hands on her hips in an equally as doubtful pose. “Nothing happened, and Macaque definitely doesn’t look like he’s about to pass out.”

There was a small thump from beside him, and Wukong turned to find that Macaque had, in fact, passed out. Perfectly on queue too. Dramatic as always. MK let out a curse.

“Oh, shit, I was joking, I didn’t think he actually would-” Both him and Mei quickly ran forwards, restarting what Wukong had gotten distracted from. Mei started re-cleaning Macaque’s leg, while MK quickly checked Macaque’s head for any possible injuries. “Do you think it’s from blood loss or, uh-”

“Eh, hard to tell.” Wukong knelt down beside Macaque again, gently flicking the other’s cheek. He felt a steady returning echo of magic, so, “His magic seems to be stable. He was probably just overwhelmed, or something. …Can’t imagine why.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely no reason behind it at all.” Mei said, reaching around Wukong to grab the bandages out of the first aid kit, tightly wrapping them around Macaque’s leg. Wukong avoided eye contact with both her and MK. The sweet scent was still lingering in both his nose and mouth- he subconsciously licked his lip. Suddenly, he felt a prickle indicating eyes were on him, and he looked up to find that MK was staring at him with something like concerned wariness.

“…Monkey King.” MK started, slowly, “I know you and Macaque are… complicated, but you’re not planning on… eating him, right? Cause you uh, you can’t do that.”

“Ea- I’m not going to eat him.” Wukong said, offended, “I don’t- I’ve never- where are you getting that idea from?”

“I don’t know, Mr. King.” Mei finished up bandaging Macaque’s leg, pulling a sticker out of her pocket and placing it on top of her work- for some reason. “You’ve been staring at him kinda hungrily.”

“…I don’t think that’s a way you can stare at someone.” Wukong rubbed the back of his neck, “Besides, even if I did like, do the whole, ‘eating people’ thing- which I don’t. I certainly wouldn’t eat him, he’d probably taste gross.”

Well. He’d probably taste really sweet actually. He found his eyes drifting down to where Macaque’s neck would be visible, if it weren’t for the other’s scarf. Now that the injury was bandaged, the scent wasn’t as strong anymore- but it was still there…

“You certainly didn’t seem to think he was gross when you were licking Macaque’s leg.” Mei said, snapping Wukong out of his staring and making his face burn.

“That was- I was just- um. My saliva helps things heal faster?”

“Y’know, I’d almost believe that if you hadn’t said it like that.” MK said, digging around in his pocket, before seemingly finding what he was looking for. “Open your mouth.”

“Wha-” Wukong was cut off as, faster than he could blink, MK unwrapped a lollipop and shoved it into Wukong’s mouth. “Hey-”

“Lick something that’s supposed to be licked.” MK said, standing up, summoning the staff into his hand and walking towards the edge of the roof, Mei silently following after him. “Me and Mei have a dance party to get to- if I don’t hear from Macaque by midnight, I will be accusing you of cooking him!”

Wukong’s offended cry that, again, he did not eat people, fell on seemingly deaf ears as both MK and Mei jumped down from the roof’s edge, vanishing, leaving Wukong crouching on the rooftop beside a still unconscious Macaque.

After a few minutes, he sighed, using his tongue to turn the lollipop over in his mouth.

It was peach flavoured.

…It still wasn’t as sweet as-

Wukong shook that thought out of his head- oh, huh. Somehow, in between earlier and now, his headache had vanished. That was… weird. He’d been sure it was going to become a migraine. Maybe the distraction was all he’d needed? …Whatever. He didn’t have the time to focus on that.

He glanced down at Macaque, and sighed, before placing his hands underneath him and lifting him up as gently as he could. As much as some mean-spirited part of him might wish to do so, he couldn’t just leave the other on top of a random rooftop. The least he could do was get Macaque back to his dojo- or, well their dojo, at the current moment. Flower Fruit Mountain was still unsuitable for living in, at the current moment. Reforming his past house required a lot of magic and focus, and, well, Wukong may or may not be lacking in one of those departments, so it was taking quite a while.

Not to mention he’d had a late start on it. …A month’s long late start to it. Procrastination could be such a bitch sometimes.

So, he’d been staying at Macaque’s dojo for the time being. (MK had offered his apartment, and Sandy had offered his boat, but… Macaque’s dojo was the only other building around with a built in pocket space that could fit all of Wukong’s stuff. Or, well, what remained of it. Wukong didn’t really want to think about all that had gotten destroyed during the fight against Azure, he’d salvaged what he could, and that was that. He definitely didn’t still think of the items that were either destroyed or missing).

Or, well, he was kind of staying there. Sure, his stuff was stored there, and he’d spent like, maybe one or two nights guarding said stuff, but he had yet to actually, like, sleep there. After he was certain Macaque wasn’t going to go through his stuff, he’d been spending most of his time either hanging out with the kid and the others at the Noodle Shop, or finding a random tree to rest in.

Which was why he paused when, upon kicking down random doors, he paused upon the discovery that, at some point, Macaque had seemingly prepared a room for him.

Or, well, it wasn’t really a new discovery. Wukong had heard him mumbling about how he’d “gone through the effort of putting a room together for nothing”, but he had assumed the other had just been joking- poking fun over how Wukong currently preferred a tree branch over an actual bed. Apparently, this was not the case.

Wukong took a quick glance down the hallway. There were still multiple doors to try if he wanted to find Macaque’s actual room, but, well, there was a bed right here, so.

He quickly stepped in and dropped the other unceremoniously onto the bed- and then winced as the other let out a slightly pained whimper in his sleep. Ah. Right. Injured leg. You’re meant to be careful with injured people.

…Sue him. It’s been centuries since he’d last had to deal with caring for an injured person that wasn’t himself, he was out of practice.

Slightly more gently, Wukong rearranged Macaque so that he wasn’t in a position that would aggravate the cuts on his leg. And then he… stared. Silently. Macaque was still asleep- which would’ve been concerning, Wukong was fairly sure if someone passes out, they’re not meant to stay unconscious for this long unless there’s a serious medical reason, but, well. That buzzing had been hard on Wukong’s ears, he could only imagine what it’d been like for Macaque. Maybe he just needed the rest?

The last bit of lollipop dissolved on his tongue, and Wukong took the remaining stick out of his mouth and tossed it into the trash as he contemplated. Was there anything else here he needed to-

Oh! Water! Water would probably be good- everyone likes a good glass of water when they wake up, yep. Wukong turned around, new mission in mind, heading towards Macaque’s kitchen. Man, now that there was nothing sweet in his mouth, he was craving sugar again- but he already knew that Macaque didn’t keep any treats in there. He’d tried to raid the kitchen on his first night staying here, out of spite, only to find it horrifically empty. Pigsy would’ve thrown a fit if he’d known. Actually, now that he was thinking about it, maybe he should tell the pig demon about that, the idea of what Macaque’s expression would be when confronted with a pissed-off Pigsy was endlessly entertaining.

…That might come back to bite him though. It was well known at this point that the Monkey King didn’t have the best eating habits either. Maybe he should save that idea for a time when he can easily get away…

Oh. He’d overfilled the cup.

Wukong quickly turned off the tap, setting the cup down on the counter as he shook water droplets off of his hand. Jeez, he seriously was having a hard time keeping himself in the moment today. More so than usual.

He poured the slightest bit of water out of the cup and down the drain, so that it wouldn’t easily spill, before heading back to the room and- there was no bedside table in here. How hadn’t he noticed that?

He couldn’t just leave the cup on the floor, it’d likely just end up spilled that way… wait-

Wukong ripped a piece of hair off his tail, snapping his fingers to turn it into a bedside table. There, problem solved. He set the cup down with a firm clink, scanned the room, and it’s occupant, one last time, before turning and leaving.

He could really use something sweet right now.

~

At exactly 11pm at night, Wukong’s phone went off with a message from the group chat that MK had partially forced him into. Nibbling on his ninth cookie of the night, Wukong swiped his phone open.

MK: are we all still up for game night tmrw?

A few affirmative messages flew by, Wukong simply sending a thumbs up emoji into the mix. A few seconds later, Macaque sent a thumbs down.

Mei: good 2 see that our resident phantom of the opera is still alive

Wukong snorted as he watched Macaque react to that message with a middle finger emoji- only to edit it into an angry face emoji immediately after out of fear of Pigsy’s wrath. At the very least this meant that MK wouldn’t be pestering him about Macaque’s whereabouts in an hour. Wukong had not been looking forward to that possible conversation. He set his phone down on the table even as messages continued to flow across the screen.

“Y’know.” He said, “You can’t keep avoiding game night forever.”

There was a crash, and a split second later, a shadow portal opened in the doorway, Macaque stepping out of it, looking some combination of pissed off and frazzled.

“What are you doing in my kitche- what the fuck?!” Macaque cut himself off as he fully registered the scene in front of him. “Wukong. What is this-”

“Uh, I’m in your kitchen cause I’m staying here, remember?” Not really, again, Wukong had barely spent much time here at all other than those two nights guarding his stuff. “And this is all uh, a late night snack. You know you’ve got no food in here? Do you even eat?”

“…I just portal it in here when I’m hungry.” Macaque mumbled, the cleared his throat. “This. Is not a midnight snack- this is- did you even pay for half of this stuff?”

“Yes I did, in fact, pay for it, so if you want some you’re gonna have to pay me back for it.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how much this cost you- nevermind. I’m rephrasing my question. Why do you have what’s practically a sweets banquet set up in my kitchen?” Macaque asked, “You’ve got like, three cakes here-”

“I was craving sugar.” Wukong shrugged, picking up another cookie, avoiding eye contact as he shoved it into his mouth. Although… Macaque had a point. Wukong had returned with the results of his sweets haul over two hours ago, and he’d barely made a dent in it since then. But, well, he wasn’t lying. He was craving sugar.

…Still is. Not a single one of these treats seemed to be able to get rid of his want for-

Macaque reached over Wukong’s shoulder to grab a cookie from the package sitting in front of the Monkey King, and Wukong nearly choked as he was suddenly hit with the sweet scent of the other’s magic yet again.

Yeah. Okay then. Nothing else really could ever truly compare. The cookie still in his mouth suddenly tasted practically flavourless in comparison.

He still shoved another one into his mouth anyways, if only to get the thoughts of biting Macaque’s arm out of his mind.

“I’m not paying you back for this by the way.” Macaque said, taking a small mouselike bite out of his cookie, as though testing if it was actually good, before taking a slightly larger bite. “…Albeit, I guess I could like, take these as rent? Since you’re storing all your shit here.”

“I won’t throw you through a wall for taking my cookie on one condition.”

“…Which is?”

“Join us for game night.”

“I’d rather get thrown through the wall.”

“Alright.”

“Wait- wait!” Macaque’s voice pitched up with slight fear as Wukong stood up and grabbed hold of his arm. Wukong paused and waited, but didn’t let go. Macaque stared at him, as though analyzing whether or not he was actually serious.

He was. Injury or not, a little throw through a wall wouldn’t hurt him that much. And would also let Wukong take out a little bit of frustrated energy- that headache that had gone away earlier was slowly starting to make it’s way back.

After a few seconds of nothing but silent staring, Wukong raised an eyebrow, tightening his grip ever so slightly.

“Shit- fine!” Macaque hissed, tugging at his arm, trying to free it. “I’ll go to game night! Now let go of me!”

“That’s more like it.” Wukong obediently let go of Macaque’s arm, turning and sitting back down, scooping his phone off the table.

MonkeyKing: convinced mac to come to game night

MK: HOW?!

MK: actually based on what happend earlier. i dont wanna know

“…Are you going to be sitting out here all night?” Macaque asked, bringing Wukong back to where he currently was before he could type out a frantic message about how nothing had happened earlier. Macaque was leaning against the back of Wukong’s chair, though, he was seemingly more focused on the second cookie he’d snatched than the phone, which Wukong quickly turned off before Macaque could see the messages- purposefully or accidentally. Briefly, he glanced down at the bandages wrapped around Macaque’s leg- there was no sign of bleed through, which was good, but-

“Do you have to stand so close?” The proximity was making the sugar cravings so much worse, and with the treats in front of him no longer working as a substitute…

Wukong forced his gaze away from where it had strayed to Macaque’s scarf, or, well, his neck. He seriously didn’t need a repeat of whatever had come over him before.

“Why?” Macaque did the opposite of what Wukong wanted him to do, leaning closer, “Does it bother you?”

��Psh, no.” Wukong reached up to shove Macaque away, touching nothing but thin air as Macaque side-stepped out of reach with a smirk- which was soon replaced by- a yawn? Wukong stared at him incredulously. “There’s no way you’re still tired. You just spent the past like, 6 hours unconscious.”

“I could probably go for another 32.”

“…Minutes?”

“Hours.”

“Sounds festive.”

“Glad to know you find the idea of me falling into a coma fun.”

“Look, if you’re that tired, just go back to bed.” Wukong rolled his eyes, “I’m not gonna like, start watching a movie on full blast or anything.”

“You will likely make a mess of my kitchen though.” Macaque said, “I mean, you practically already have. Are you at least going to bring some of this stuff to the game night- I don’t think either of us could finish even half of this on our own.”

That… was an excellent idea actually.

“It was always the intent for most of it to be for game night.” Wukong lied, “I’m done here now anyways- the kid just wanted me to make sure you didn’t like, bleed out or something.”

He grabbed a new package of cookies, shoving them into the folds of his clothes as he stood up, brushing past Macaque on the way to the door. Wukong paused with one foot out of the dojo.

“I’ll come back tomorrow afternoon to help carry everything over to the Noodle Shop.” He said, “You better be ready by then, or I will be dragging you out of bed. Forcibly.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” Macaque huffed, waving him off, “Have fun getting backpain in your random tree branch.”

Wukong already dealt with backpain, a few weeks of nights spent sleeping on a tree branch weren’t going to help or hurt him more. But, well, that wasn’t important.

He slammed the door of the dojo closed behind himself, and summoned his cloud to go hang out on the roof of MK’s apartment until tomorrow.

~

“Uno!”

“Go fish.”

“I think I’m gonna fold.”

“Does anyone have an eight?”

“Pick up two.”

“Wait, what are we playing?” Wukong asked, suddenly very aware of the lack of cards in his hands. At his question, Mei let out a snort, and the others set their handfuls of various cards down on the table.

“We’re playing Never Have I Ever.” MK patted Wukong on the back comfortingly, “You started spacing out twenty minutes ago- Red Son thought it’d be funny to see how long it’d take you to notice we’d started spouting random game instructions.”

“Noodle Boy, you cannot just oust me like that-”

“No wonder it’s taking you so long to remake Flower Fruit Mountain.” Macaque interrupted as he set down his own hand- two queens and two plus four Uno cards. “If you can barely focus enough on a kids game, then it’s a miracle you can get any complex magic spell done at all.”

“Hey- I’m not normally this bad.” Wukong said, rubbing gently at his forehead. “…I just have a little headache, that’s all.”

“I’ve got an aspirin if you need one.” Mei popped a pill out of a package and held it out. Wukong stared at it a little hesitantly for a few seconds- mortal medicine had a fairly low chance of helping him out nowadays. But, well, low chance was still better than no chance… Wukong took the pill and swallowed it dry, ignoring how some of the others winced at that action. It probably wouldn’t help him much in the long run, but, well, he could pretend it did for their sakes.

“Now that Monkey King is back in the land of the living-” MK said, pouring a refill of juice into everyone’s cups, “I can say this; Never Have I Ever licked someone’s leg-”

“Oh, you’re still on that?” Wukong would’ve rathered they’d left that whole thing behind. He grabbed his cup-

And proceeded to almost spill it when Macaque violently slammed his hands down on the table.

“Wait.” He hissed, eyes flickering from MK to Wukong and back again. “That was real? That actually happened?! I thought I hallucinated it-”

“It was, unfortunately, real.” MK said with a solemn tone that did not at all fit the topic they were talking about. Quietly, Red Son asked Mei what was going on, and Mei leaned over to whisper about what had happened yesterday into his ear. Wukong could only thank whoever in Heaven that may or may not be listening in that Pigsy, Tang, and Sandy were busy getting pizza from the store, and were thus not being brought in on this whole little fiasco.

“Whatever- it, it was nothing, okay?” Wukong downed his juice in one go, grabbing the bottle with his tail to pour more into his now empty cup. “Let’s just move on- Never Have I Ever… uh-”

He paused for a moment, trying to think of something that he hadn’t done. As someone who had lived for over a millenia, well…

“…Maybe this wasn’t the best choice of game to play with a bunch of immortals.” Red Son said-

“No, no, I- actually no, yeah, I’ve got nothing.” Wukong had been going to say he’d never eaten people- considering MK had seemed to decide they were bringing up yesterday’s events, but, well. He was pretty sure Red Son’s family had had a little… phase, and he wasn’t entirely sure if Mei and MK knew, and, well, a party game was arguably the worst way to find out about things like that, in Wukong’s opinion.

…Or maybe they wouldn’t care, who knows, MK and Mei were weird like that. He’s pretty sure he heard the kid specifically chanting something along the lines of “Be Gay, Do Crimes” the other day, or something like that. Was cannibalism included in that? Wukong has no idea, and he certainly is not going to be the one to ask.

He was spared from further thinking about it as the Noodle Shop’s door chimed- Tang, Pigsy, and Sandy finally returning, Sandy carrying pizza boxes in his hands.

(Wukong had brought over some of the junk food he’d impulse bought the previous night. Macaque had complained about how he was still leaving so much of it in his kitchen, but, well, Wukong kinda wanted a stockpile of it. Just in case. Either way, it didn’t really matter, quite a lot of what he had brought over would probably be coming back to the Dojo with them anyways, considering Pigsy had nearly passed out over the idea of only having sweets for super. He’d insisted they at least get something more dinner-like, even if it was takeout from another place. MK had demanded pizza faster than anyone else could think).

“Scoot over, monkey.” Pigsy said, pulling a chair over to the table, making Wukong have to move over-

Closer to Macaque.

Shit.

Wukong took a chocolate bar he’d hidden in his shirt pocket earlier (it was his favourite brand, he only had one left and he wasn’t risking any of the others taking it), and took a bite out of it, forcing his eyes to remain on the table and not stray over to the monkey demon sitting beside him. There was no sweet scent surrounding the other anymore- thank heaven, but just the memory alone was messing with him. The urge to just bite the other was all too strong.

“Right!!” Mei clapped her hands together, drawing Wukong’s attention back to the group. “Now that we’re all here, lets get the real games going. Up first, I think we should play Werewolf-”

~

“Night one. Night. One. All of you- voted for me first thing.” Macaque hissed as Wukong slammed the door of the dojo closed behind them. “I hadn’t even done anything yet! There wasn’t even a discussion- just immediate voting!”

“Macaque, that was hours ago, why are you still complai-”

“Don’t think I haven’t forgotten that you were the one who voted for me first, Wukong!” Macaque poked Wukong in the chest as emphasis- “You clearly set that whole thing up on purpose- hey!”

Wukong grabbed hold of Macaque’s wrist, pushing him backwards as the Monkey King stepped forwards, pinning Macaque up against the wall.

“Enough.” Wukong hissed, and then paused, taking in the look on Macaque’s face, the way shadows were slowly darkening against the wall, as though ready to portal the other away. After a second, he relaxed his grip on Macaque’s wrist a little, using his free hand to gently run a thumb over Macaque’s cheek. “You’ve been complaining for hours. It’s making my headache worse, so- it’s high time you shut up a little.”

When the shadows faded to their usual colour, and Macaque didn’t voice any form of protest, Wukong leaned in.

…This wasn’t the first time they had kissed. Far from it.

A few days after the fight against Azure, Macaque had shown up in the remains of Flower Fruit Mountain. The resulting fist fight had ended with Macaque pinned to the ground, panting, and smirking, before he’d grabbed the front of Wukong’s clothes and pulled himself up to place a kiss on Wukong’s cheek.

Wukong had grabbed him before he could fade into the shadows and pressed their lips together with a surprising gentleness for someone who hadn’t kissed another for over two hundred years.

They hadn’t really… stopped since then. Neither of them ever really planned to initiate it, it just seemed to happen- suddenly gently or passionately kissing each other.

This kiss… was neither of those things.

It was desperate, and needy, and Wukong’s fangs nipped Macaque’s lip hard enough to draw blood and make him gasp. Wukong pulled back at the sound of it, before zeroing in on the blood. He ran his thumb over Macaque’s lip, smearing the blood, then brought his thumb to his mouth and licked it.

“…Sweet.” He said, ignoring the way Macaque’s eyes narrowed at him as he leaned back in for a better taste. Macaque made a choked sort of noise as Wukong licked his lip mid-kiss. Wukong slowly let go of Macaque’s wrist in order to cup the other’s face with both hands, pulling him slightly away from the wall and impossibly closer to him, nipping at Macaque’s lip again to draw more blood forth.

“Ow!” Macaque pushed Wukong back- Wukong forcing himself to comply and move away as Macaque shook his head, seemingly trying to snap himself out of the daze that had come over him. “Okay- wait- what’s with the biting?”

Wukong silently stared at the small trails of blood slowly dripping from Macaque’s bottom lip and down his chin.

“Wukong? Sun Wukong. Hey.” Macaque snapped his fingers in front of Wukong’s face. “I know you’re bad at it, but I’d like you to focus now-”

Wukong blinked, trying to think clearly over the delicious sweetness that was steadily fading from his tongue.

“Uh-” He hesitated, trying to make eye contact, and failing, eyes being drawn back to the quickly drying blood. How to- explain? His mind was buzzing over finally getting a small taste of what he’d been craving all day, and despite his headache having somehow vanished, it was nearly impossible to think. He wanted more, so much more. “…Sweet?”

“Not an answer.” Macaque said, wiping the dry blood off his chin, “If you want something sweet, have one of the hundreds of treats you’ve tossed into my kitchen- wait, does this has something to do with you licking my leg yesterday?”

Macaque’s face, which had already been tinged slightly purple from the kiss, flushed to a much deeper shade at the memory, and Wukong knew for a fact that, confronted with it now, his own face was probably burning with an equal amount of gold. He’d been kinda hoping that, despite MK bringing it up again for some reason, Macaque had forgotten that whole thing had even happened.

It seemed like his hopes had been in vain.

“Maybe.” He’d muttered it, but it might as well have been a yes with how Macaque’s face suddenly lit up with a smirk despite the blush still covering it- speaking of, said blush was quickly starting to show through the glamours on Macaque’s ears as well, the faint outlines of his extra ears lightly glowing.

“Ah-” There was a tone of realization in Macaque’s voice that Wukong decided right then and there that he didn’t really like- “It’s the magic that you want, isn’t it?”

Oh, Wukong suddenly regretted constantly begging Macaque for a taste of the other’s magic because it was “sweeter than peaches!” way back in the past. Macaque had been quite proud of it back then, seeming to view being ranked as above peaches as something special. Of course the bastard would put the pieces together so damn quick, even over a millenia later.

Wukong let out a defeated groan, taking another step back so that Macaque was no longer trapped against the wall. Macaque adjusted his clothes, blush and smirk still present on his face as he turned and started walking towards the main living area, Wukong slowly trailing along behind him with his arms crossed. Macaque’s tail was swishing back and forth with something that was definitely not agitation, and Wukong couldn’t help but feel that maybe Macaque was getting just a little bit too much enjoyment out of this realization.

Macaque hopped over the back of his couch to sit down on the cushions, and after a moment of hesitation, Wukong followed.

“…It’s not your magic specifically.” He said, grumpily, “It’s just… sugar? But, uh. Nothing else is, um.”

“Fulfilling the craving? Checks out.” Macaque nodded sagely, as though he expected this, and Wukong had to, for the second time in under 24 hours, fight the urge to pick him up and throw him. Macaque seemed to realize he was treading on thin ice, as he quickly broke eye contact. “I mean, it takes an ungodly amount of, well, anything to affect you, it only makes sense you’d need something super sweet as well.”

…Huh. He was right, that did make sense.

It also would maybe explain why the headaches went away after tasting some of Macaque’s insanely sweet magic blood too. It wasn’t some coincidence, it was just Wukong finally getting something akin to the right amount of sugar in himself. The sugar craving wasn’t just his sweet tooth, he actually needs a lot of sugar.

…Probably not a good thing he keeps going extended periods without eating anything, then. Of course, he could probably live without it, obviously, but, well. It felt awful to do so.

(He’d slept away fifty years once, and had felt genuinely and truly horrible once he had woken up. It’d taken three days of eating immortal peaches before he’d started to feel well enough to branch into eating and drinking anything else).

“Well, there’s no real reason to postpone it.” Macaque’s voice drew Wukong back to the present, and he did a double take in shock as he realized that, at some point while he’d been spacing out, Macaque had taken his scarf off. Wukong’s eyes immediately were drawn to Macaque’s collarbone. Macaque smirked at his reaction, and moved forwards, wrapping his scarf around the back of Wukong’s neck, and pulling the Monkey King closer to him, practically on top of him, in fact. Macaque tilted his head slightly to the side to give better access. “Go ahead.”

Wukong blinked for a second in shock, a golden flush on his face, before he smirked.

“Good boy.”

“Wha- no, we’re not doing th-ah!” Macaque cut himself off with a yelp, glamours falling down as Wukong gently sunk his teeth into his shoulder. Wukong let out a slightly muffled laugh at Macaque’s reaction, before biting slightly harder, blood pooling up as Macaque swore from the sting of it. One of Macaque’s hands gripped onto the back of Wukong’s clothes- his other hand gripping the back of Wukong’s head with enough strength to pull on his hair enough for it to slightly hurt, but Wukong didn’t care. He was finally getting the sweetness he’d been craving, and he wasn’t going to let anything distract him from that.

A minute passed, and Macaque slowly started relaxing from how he’d initially tensed, leaning back to be laying down, shivering and yelping whenever Wukong sunk his teeth in deeper again to draw up more magic blood. Wukong leaned closer in to him, letting their tails wrap together. Macaque didn’t even try to say anything of his usually sassy or dramatic nature, for once leaving them both in relatively peaceful near-silence.

The sweet flavour filling the Monkey King’s mouth tasted almost like bliss.

Slowly, Wukong pulled back a small bit. The craving had been satiated, fading to the back of his mind as he licked his lips, clarity starting to come back to him.

Macaque’s shoulder looked like a bloody mess.

He gave it a tiny, gentle lick, savouring the taste on his tongue for a few more seconds, before pulling back entirely.

“…I think we might’ve stained your couch.” Wukong said, wiping his mouth, though he was sure he’d only succeeded in smearing the purple blood across his face instead of successfully cleaning it. “And your shirt.”

Macaque didn’t answer, staring at the ceiling while panting, a dazed look in his eyes. Wukong slowly tilted his head in confusion, carefully shifting so that he was no longer on top of him.

“Macaque?” Wukong tried again, “C’mon, we should get you cleaned up. We can go to the Flower Fruit Mountain hot springs- I finished fixing them up a few days ago.”

“…Yeah. Right. Hot springs… sounds nice.” Macaque sounded breathless as he forced himself up and into a sitting position, swinging his legs over and making to stand up and take a step forwards.

He crumpled over, starting to collapse to the ground.

“Woah!” Wukong shot up and grabbed hold of him, Macaque gripping onto him for balance. Wukong was suddenly very aware of the way Macaque was starting to get a little wispy at the edges. “Fuck, did I take too much?”

“Maybe jus’ a bit…” Macaque’s words slurred a little as Wukong helped him sit back down onto the couch. “I’ll be fine, I just, need a sec…”

Wukong gently brushed Macaque’s hair out of his face, before gently tapping the other’s lips.

“Is it okay if I…?”

“…Mm.” Macaque made a sound of consent, so Wukong gently pressed their lips together, a golden glow enveloping the both of them as he closed his eyes and drew back on how they used to share magic.

(Passing it through a kiss was a lot easier than getting it from blood, but, well, Macaque’s magic was too closely tied to him now for him to do such a thing anymore.

…Plus you couldn’t really taste it this way).

When Wukong next opened his eyes, Macaque still looked a bit dazed, but he at least wasn’t wispy at the edges anymore. Pulling back, he held back as much of his strength as possible and lightly flicked Macaque directly in the middle of his forehead.

“Next time, tell me when I start taking too much.” Wukong said, ignoring Macaque’s pained grumbling. “Now, lets get you fixed up- you still okay with the hot springs?”

“I could use a bit of a soak- wait. How are we going to-” Macaque shrieked as a golden flash surrounded them, falling backwards onto the ground with a small sound of pain as they were suddenly teleported to Flower Fruit Mountain.

“Oops. Forgot to warn you.” He absolutely hadn’t- this was his way of paying Macaque back for not telling him important things like the fact that he was taking too much blood. Wait, speaking of blood- “Ah- I forgot the supplies- hold on for a second, alright? Don’t go, like, passing out on me again.”

“I’m not gonna pass out.” Macaque said, even as he put a hand to his head, trying to get the spinning from the sudden teleportation to stop. Wukong raised an eyebrow in doubt at him, but still proceeded to vanish in another flash of golden light, leaving Macaque on the ground staring at the starry sky.

His eyes were just starting to adjust to the natural darkness- when another bright flash of light made him hiss, covering his face.

“I’m back!” Wukong did a little pose as he announced his presence. Macaque just slowly sat up and stared at him with an incredibly unimpressed look. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Wukong coughed, setting the basket of items on the ground down beside the other. “So, um. I realized between there and here that uh- well, I was gonna bandage your shoulder, but, you’re not meant to get bandages wet, and we’re gonna go in the hot springs, so um-”

“Just put some spell on them to keep them dry or whatever.” Macaque rolled his eyes, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world, as he shrugged off his sleeve to give Wukong better access to his shoulder. Wukong knelt down beside him, bandages in his hands, and then hesitated.

“…Wukong-” Macaque started, and then sighed as Wukong leaned down and licked some more blood off of Macaque’s shoulder. “Seriously? I thought you were done with that.”

“I just wanted one more little taste.” Wukong pulled back, grabbing a small hand towel and dipping it into the hot spring, using it to gently wipe the rest of the blood away. The bite marks were already starting to heal, the skin already starting to scab over. Wukong wrapped some bandages on top of it anyways. There would probably be more steps he’d have to do for this if Macaque was human, but, well, he wasn’t, so this should suffice.

“Hurry it up, I wanna get in the water, it’s cold out here.” Macaque said, his tail swishing a little in agitation. Wukong huffed out a small laugh at his impatience, summoning a golden magic circle to his fingertips, which he then pressed against the bandages to imbue them with the spell. He repeated the process for the bandages on Macaque’s leg, and then turned away to put the bandage roll back in the basket he’d brought.

A splash had him turning around to find that where Macaque had been, there was now only his clothes on the ground, the other monkey demon having already made his way into the hot springs. He’d done that so fast, how-

“Ough, headrush…” One of Macaque’s hands shot out to grip a nearby rock, seemingly for support, while the other went up to his forehead, his ears flicking. He looked a little bit wispy again.

Oh. He must’ve used his magic to shadowshift out of his clothes and portal into the water. He knew full well he was low on magic power right now, why on Earth would he-

(It suddenly occurred to Wukong, that, y’know what, maybe putting someone who was recently experiencing something akin to blood loss into hot water was possibly… not a good decision).

“I can hear you thinking.” Macaque mumbled, shifting a little to glare at him. “Just hurry up and get in here.”

A few seconds later had Macaque loudly swearing as Wukong jumped into the hot spring, splashing the other with warm water.

“Seriously?!” Macaque spluttered, coughing as a bit of water made it’s way into his mouth. “Can’t you just enter the water like a normal perso-mM!”

Water splashed over the edge of the hot spring as Wukong cut him off by grabbing the sides of Macaque’s head, climbing onto the other’s lap in one swift motion and pressing their lips together. Macaque made a muffled noise of protest, before his eyes slowly slid closed, his hands finding their way to rest on Wukong’s shoulders as the Monkey King shared more of his endless magic with him. Wukong tilted his head, pulling back before pressing a kiss to the corner of Macaque’s mouth, then his cheek- and then his ear.

Macaque did a full body shiver as Wukong kept his lips pressed against one of the other’s glowing six ears. When Macaque didn’t have any further reaction, Wukong opened his mouth slightly, and softly bit down.

Unlike the previous bites, it wasn’t enough to draw up blood, but it was enough to make Macaque let out a quite frankly pitiful sounding noise, tail thrashing, causing more water to spill out onto the rocks. Wukong chuckled, the sensation of his breath against his ear making all of Macaque’s ears twitch. Wukong seemed to take that as a sign to purposefully blow a breath of air onto Macaque’s ear, making Macaque yelp and shove him back.

“Stop that! And, must- must you keep interrupting me mid-sentence?” He said, “Seriously, you’ve done it like three times.”

“But what if I like the sound you make when I catch you off guard, Sugarplum?” If Macaque hadn’t already been flushed to the tips of his ears, purple blush glowing brightly, Wukong dropping that nickname of all things would’ve been enough to make him blush violently.

“Wuko- …P-Peaches, you can’t just-”

“Can’t just what?” Wukong pressed their foreheads together, smirking as he stared directly into Macaque’s eyes. “C’mon, I’m on a bit of sugar high right now, you gotta let me have some fun- hey!”

Macaque roughly shoved Wukong back, making him slip and fall underwater for a few seconds. When he came back up, he made a frustrated noise as he tried to push his wet hair out of his face so he could see again.

“Did you have to do tha- woah!” Wukong stumbled backwards, his back hitting the side of the hot spring as his hands grabbed Macaque to stabilize him as the other suddenly surged forwards, wrapping his arms around Wukong’s neck as he kissed him. Wukong’s hands slipped down to Macaque’s hips, quickly adjusting their position into something more comfortable as Macaque tried to press himself as close to him as possible. After a few seconds, Wukong hummed, turning his head to the side to break the kiss. Macaque quickly moved to press his lips to Wukong’s neck instead. Wukong let out a breathy giggle- “Is this your idea of revenge?”

Macaque’s response was to wrap his tail around Wukong’s own under the water, kissing up the side of Wukong’s neck, to his cheek, and then back to his lips. Wukong let him, smirking into it-

And then he let go of Macaque’s hips, one of his hands going to rest in the middle of Macaque’s back, the other going to the back of the other’s head, as he shifted his weight and dipped him, Macaque letting out a muffled squeak against Wukong’s lips as he almost went under the water. Wukong pulled back a bit to stare down at Macaque’s shocked face, his black hair flowing in the water, the glow from his ears reflecting in the water in a way that was-

“Beautiful.”

“Oh shut up.” Macaque reached up and grabbed the sides of Wukong’s face, pulling him down to press their lips together again-

Wukong’s feet slipped on the underwater rocks, sending them both under the water. They both resurfaced a few seconds later, coughing on accidentally inhaled water.

“Right.” Wukong said, taking in a wheezing breath, “I think maybe- maybe that’s a sign we should cut it out for now, ha.”

Macaque didn’t verbally respond, instead just silently nodding, leaning against the side of the hot spring and staring up at the stars.

They were silent for a few minutes.

And then Wukong reached over the edge of the hot spring to rummage in the basket he had brought, and pulled out-

“How did you even fit that in there.” Macaque deadpanned, “What are you, some kind of Mary Poppins? There’s no way you fit that in that basket.”

“…Sounds like somebody doesn’t want cake.”

“Now hold on, I didn’t say that-”

[fungalpieceofextras]

Things I wish I saw more of in living weapon whumpees: a non-comprehensive list from being around actual Marines and army people

They can and will sleep anywhere... except an actual bed. The moment you give them access to an actual bed with a mattress and sheets, their immediate instinct is to make it up in barracks style, not sleep in it. The moment they're expected to sit and wait and/or have no expectations of them, they lean back and enter a light doze.

Caffeine addiction. Usually through pills, sometimes through special caffeinated gum. This pairs with the weird sleeping habits.

When they ARE guaranteed eight hours of rest, at least two of them are spent maintaining equipment/ their uniform if permitted. When they wake, they're up and ready for whatever comes next in under five minutes. This includes making up the bed.

If it's not the bare minimum to keep them functional and armed, they don't have it. This is going to be especially true for LWW's who were raised in the lifestyle and/or brainwashed after abduction from civilian life. Watches, jewellery, spare clothes, even non-obtrusive things to occupy them outside of training like books or a phone are not things they have without stealing or being given a gift by someone around them.

Paired with above, they have no preferences for what they do get. If someone above them fucks up and gives them too-small or too-large clothes, they just make it work and take the punishment they don't deserve at inspection time. If the only toilet is a bucket on the floor, they use it without complaint.

Their language when speaking freely is something the fuck else, like for real the shit that comes out of their pieholes is unbelievable! A "fuck" every other word!

They only speak when spoken to, and when they do, it's in what I like to call a Sir Sandwich: "Sir, [response goes here], Sir", usually in a very flat and (if appropriate) loud tone. "Sir" can be considered gender-neutral in this case and is meant to denote someone in authority, not a masculine someone specifically.

Buzzed hair on men, pixie or chin-length bob on women, though if your LWW is the only woman in a mostly masc environment, buzzing her hair can be a deliberate tactic by her captors/superiors to dehumanize her.

Food aggression. They inhale their food, they never eat anything that takes time or effort to prepare OR to consume (salad, omelette, pancakes/waffles, steak, etc.) and if the situation calls for it they can and will eat with their hands no matter how nasty their hands are. Permission to sit down for more than ten minutes and actually TASTE what they eat should be alien to them during recovery/leave if they get it.

Hazing. Sorry, but if your LWW is in a group with other soldiers or LWs, they're going to experience some kind of unpleasant/humiliating/dangerous initiation ritual, ESPECIALLY if the team is going someplace dangerous or going to be together for long stretches of time. Stealing clothes while your whumpee is in the shower, mocking them for things they can't control/weren't aware were 'weird', anything and everything that would get them screamed at or punished by the commanding figure on an individual basis. (For my NSFWhump peeps, yes this can include SA or harassment and often does, especially for women and effette/less masculine/nerdy men.)

Exercise as punishment. This can be extra labour, a pointless task they can later be yelled at for not stopping by curfew after not being told to stop at a given time, or even just the classic "drop and give me twenty!". Hitting or otherwise physically abusing a trainee is a federal offense, but for a LWW it depends... are you leaving a mark? Can they still perform as intended?

Just. The irl army is already pretty horrible and I don't see anyone making use of that.

[strawbxrryneptune]

College BKG <3 (enemies to lovers ish)

unedited, lowkey rushed at the end cause im exhausted but at least i posted something after like a year teehee

@miggiisdumb

You walk into the lecture hall a couple minutes early, dragging your sleep deprived friend along with you.

“I genuinely don't understand why we have to get to class so early. The professor isn't even here yet."

You huff at her complaint, pulling her towards the front where you always sit.

"I just want to keep my seat.”

Before she can reply, you cut her off.

“Yes, I know, I’ve been sitting in the same place the whole semester and no one’s taken my seat, but there’s still the risk. Remember when Bakugou fucking took it last week and wouldn’t stop being smug about it?”

Slipping into the second row, she sits on your left, sighing heavily.

"Honestly, the little petty battle you have with him is getting old babe, just fuck him at this point."

You laugh, resting your head in your hands as you stare at your friend.

"Excuse me?"

She scoffs in your face, obviously too tired for your conversation.

"Listen, we all grew up together, anyone who went to UA can agree that you both have hard ons for each other, but you’re too busy arguing to see it.”

You sigh dramatically, flopping back in your seat.

 “He’s an asshole-”

"An asshole you wanna fuck.”

You swipe at her, and she laughs before pushing at your arm.

“Look me in my eyes and tell me you don’t want to fuck him.”

“...Okay, he’s kind of hot-”

“So fuck-”

“-no, he’s so annoying!”

She gives you a look then sighs,

“Yes, yes he is.”

You both laugh, your mind wandering elsewhere for a bit before she taps your arm and nods her head behind you, wiggling her eyebrows. You hum, turning to see none other than Bakugo Katsuki himself. He’s walking towards your aisle, plopping down into a seat behind you and putting his bag down next to him. He’s wearing a black sweater draped over black pants, hair fluffy but still somehow spiky looking, and a smoky, almost woodsy scent wafting from him.

Bakugou meets your eyes, and the intensity in his gaze makes your stomach twist. He raises an eyebrow at you, lips curving up to conceal a smirk. You roll your eyes and turn back around, annoyed that he caught you staring. Your friend holds back a laugh next to you and you pointedly ignore her, willing the professor to start the lecture already. 

Before you can get fully lost in thought, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn your head and almost hit your forehead against Bakugou’s. 

“Jesus, have you ever heard of personal space?”

He ignores your question and squints at the small table in front of you.

“You got an extra pencil?”

You stare at him, then look around to the other people in his row.

“Why are you asking me? There's like 5 other people in your sectio-”

“Do you have another fuckin’ pencil or not, Brat?”

You huff and shake your head no. You definitely have another pencil, but you're not giving it to his rude ass. He slides his eyes from your face to the bright pink pencil case on your table, full to the brim with pencils and highlighters. 

“Alright.”

You give him another roll of your eyes and go to turn around, but he stops you by leaning over your shoulder and snatching the pencil you were currently using off of your table, retracting back and sitting in his seat. You're pissed, but you can't even bring yourself to turn around because holy shit were his arms always that muscular? And did they always have those veins running through them all the way to his big hands? And fuck when he bent over you his gold chain came out of his shirt a little and it made you think how it would look dangling over you while he fucked the breath out of you. You take a quick breath and dig through your pencil case, taking a pen out and focusing on the smart board at the front of the class. The professor finally starts talking and you welcome the distraction, taking your notebook out to start taking notes.

Once it hit the end of your class, you closed your notebook and let out a sigh, thankful to be done for the day. You felt a tap on your shoulder, and this time you just give Bakugou a side eye when he slides his face close to yours and plops the pencil back on your desk.

“Thanks.”

“Dunno why you’re acting nice like you didn’t steal from me but you’re welcome.”

His face comes into view, and even though you aren’t looking directly at him, you can see his eyes drilling holes into the side of your face. 

“Don’t give me shit as if you didn’t lie to me.”

You scoff and fully turn, almost nose to nose with him. 

“Why would I want to give you a pencil when you’re such a dick?”

His eyebrows shoot up, and his eyes darken in a way that makes your stomach turn. 

“You wanna repeat that?”

You don't want to repeat it, actually, but you’re not about to back down and pissing him off is too fun, so you get closer.

“I said, why would I want to give you a pencil when you’re. a. dick.”

He gives you a sadistic smile and closes the already small distance between you, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“If you want dick so bad I can give it to you, you don't gotta call me one Sweetheart.”

Your face heats up and your eyes dart around the room, relief flooding your chest when you realize everyone cleared out of the lecture hall except for some girl who was closing her laptop and shoving her things into her bag. 

You turn back to him and step back, grabbing your notebook and pencil case and putting it into your bag.

“Please, I’d get more satisfaction from a metal pipe than your dick. You can’t handle this.”

He grabs your wrist, and when you turn back around he’s in your face again, this time staring at your lips with dark eyes. 

“You wanna bet?”

You look around again, watching that last girl walk out the door. Fuck it, if the dick is bad or you embarass yourself you still have time to drop the class. 

With that in mind, you shake your wrist free from his grip and lean in to kiss him, sighing softly when he kisses back because his lips are so soft. He brings a strong hand to your jaw and tilts your head, kissing you deeper. You make out for a bit before you start to become aware of the awkward position you’re both in, straining to kiss each other over the seats of the hall. He seems to have the same thought, and he brings his hands down to your waist before pausing and pulling away.

“Can I touch you?”

You think it's a bit silly for him to ask you at this point, but you appreciate it nonetheless.

“Yes.”

You say it breathily, and he gives you a crooked smile before grabbing your waist and whispering, “Jump” against your mouth. You do as he says and he effortlessly lifts you up over the seats and into his arms, hands moving to cup your ass. He continues to kiss you and you start to feel yourself getting hot, moving your hips against his stomach to alleviate some of the tension. He squeezes your ass and moves to sit down, placing you on the ground before turning you around and making you sit on his lap with your back to him. He leans forward to kiss your neck while bringing a veiny hand up to lightly choke you, not applying that much pressure but still making your head spin.

“Grind on me.”

“Ask nicely, Bakugou.”

He chuckles and gives you a sharp bite on the side of your neck, making your hips jolt against him.

“There you go, good girl.”

You want to tell him off, but you can feel his dick through his pants and you want to feel more. Biting your lip, you grind against him slowly, picking up the pace gradually and forcing moans out of the both of you. 

“Fuck, Bakugou take your pants off i wanna feel you.”

“Ask nicely, brat.”

You huff and turn to try and undo his pants, but he stops you.

“I said, ask nicely. You're not gettin’ shit actin all prissy.”

“...fine. Please take off your pants so I can sit on your cock, Bakugou.”

He hums and gives you another murmur of “good girl” before tapping your hips to get you up again, shimmying his pants to his knees and taking his dick out. He reaches over and takes your bottoms and panties off, rubbing your hips before reaching around and starting to rub soft circles into your clit, causing you to let out a small moan. He pulls you closer and continues to pleasure you, teasing you and pulling at your clit occasionally while slipping his hand into your shirt and tweaking a nipple. You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, and you start to move your hips along with his hand. He groans against you as he feels you getting slick, taking his hand away quickly to slide your wetness along his dick. He uses one hand to pump himself while sliding one, two, three thick fingers into you, curving them and pumping rhythmically. He whispers in your ear about how soft you are, how beautiful and wet and perfect your pussy is, and you just can’t stop gushing on his fingers. You start to feel your orgasm coming up, and you stop his fingers.

”Fuck me, Bakugou, please.”

He moans at the desperate tone of your voice, bringing you further back and sliding his cock along your pussy, rubbing the tip against your clit and making your legs shake. You whine and reach back, wrapping your hand around his and guiding him inside you, gasping at the stretch. He takes it slow, and once you give him a whimper and a nod he starts to thrust into you, grabbing your wrists and holding them behind your back. He fucks you good, and you start to feel your legs shake and your vision blur as he hits that spot over and over and over again until you feel him consume you and you’re cumming just like that, back arched and eyes shut, moaning loud. He moans along with you, slamming his hips into you through the squeezing of your pussy. He slows down his thrusts to give you time to calm down, and you lean back and moan in his ear, squeezing him some more. He groans and pulls you off of him, cumming onto your ass.

You both take a moment to calm down, getting dressed in slightly awkward silence as you both grab your shit. You check your phone quickly and hold back a laugh when you see a text from your friend telling you she left in hopes of you getting dicked down. Little did she fucking know.

[skylarsblue]

✦Slashers with a Male(“dominant”)S/O✦

✧AMAB!Reader, implied to be on the tall & broad side, also a lil southern cause I wrote this when I was tired and my southern accent took over. ✧Danny Johnson(He/They), Bubba Sawyer(He/She/They), Stu Macher(He/Him), Billy Loomis(He/Him), & Brahms Heelshire(He/Him)

NSFW Warning; some headcanons & implications

✦Danny Johnson ~ Ghostface✦

Danny is pansexual, I will defend that til the day I die. He doesn't give a single fuck, as long as he gets to fuck. He has a typical type when it comes to men but it's never concrete. That being said, his usual type is dudes who look like they could snap him in half. Because that's what they want.

He's usually the dominant type, but he's all for being a pillow princess if the dynamic is right. But! They have to really like you, they're not a cheap whore...most of the time. Point is, he has to be fascinated with you as much as he is attracted to you, which they are. Lucky you.

Let's assume you're a survivor for this. All the survivors are pretty unique, but you being new should help your case. But what will really get Danny interested is seeing you match his energy. Flirting with him when you evade an attack, blowing a kiss before you leave through the hatch, wolf-whistling if you catch them crouched behind something. It throws him off but he's a bit too flattered to stay annoyed. A surefire way to get them obsessed with you though is to struggle when he tries to mori you. And if you're successful, keeping your cool as you pin them back? You might feel something poking your thigh in record time.

Danny's the lovable kind of annoying. Which is confusing, given the fact he's a murderous psychopath and most likely a narcissist. Matching his flirty and energetic ADHD-ass nature will get their crush to develop further. It'll be unhealthy but you're not here for someone mentally stable.

Expect him to follow you everywhere, take a million pictures of you, he probably brags about you to other killers. They're honestly sick of him shoving pictures of you taking your shirt off, taken from a distance without your knowledge.

They're a cuddly bitch, and they're incredibly starved for human contact. You're gonna need to carry him. Complain all you want. He has mommy/daddy issues and he wants to be held like a baby, damnit.

𖤐Bonus NSFW𖤐

Did I mention pillow princess? Yeah. When Danny's the dominant partner in a relationship, sexual or romantic, he puts in all the work without any complaint. He doesn't mind his partner just laying there and enjoying it. Makes him feel accomplished. But sometimes a bitch needs pampering. That's where you come in.

They're an extreme masochist as much as they are a sadist. You could put the hot metal of a lighter to his thigh and he'd probably cum in his pants. Pulling his hair is the easiest way to put him in his place if he's being a bit too mouthy. And they will beg you for marks if you don't put them there yourself. He wants to be sore after it all, damnit!

Panting, Ghostface let out a little laugh from behind their mask as he settled over you, knife raised. "Finally caught you, sweetheart. Tell you what, you're a good runner. But I won.~" He hummed raising a gloved hand to your hair in order to pull your head back, slice your neck. Danny inhaled and went to jab his knife into your jugular, only to let out a rather unmanly yelp when you suddenly jostled them. Able to completely flip around, tossing them off as if they weighed nothing. The muderer's camera landed in the grass and his hands were trapped above him by yours. He blinked in awe behind his mask, watching your chest rise and fall. "If there's one thing I hate 'bout y'all killers, it's the goddamn ego." You smiled as you spoke. For once, the talkative killer didn't reply. "What? Cat got your tongue, Casper? You were talkin' a bunch of smack befo-" You paused and glanced down. Danny swallowed as you let out a quiet chuckle. "Well I'll be damned...shoulda known you'd be into this kinda thing. Gross lil' fucker." They cleared their throat awkwardly as you tapped their mask. Danny inhaled and pulled back some of their dignity. "Should expect everything from me, big guy." He retorted. "Suppose I should, huh?...well, Ghostie. Rest of the team's down and I ain't got a clue where that hatch is. Might as well make the most of it, eh?" Perhaps a terrible idea, but exciting nonetheless.

✦Bubba Sawyer ~ Leatherface✦

SHE DESERVES A STRONG HUSBAND TO HELP HER AROUND THE HOUSE.

That aside, Bubba's not necessarily in the most accepting time or house. His brothers still poke fun at him sometimes when he dresses femininely, but have mostly grown to accept it. And I can't see Chop-Top as not being the type to mess around with a guy occasionally, so while they probably say ignorant stuff every now and then, I don't think it's those three that'd be the problem. It's the forties. Everyone else is gonna have something to say. Assure Bubba it's not a problem for you, she'll be over the moon.

They've tended to be into women and feminity in the past, but don't let that fool you, they are very bisexual. It especially helps if you're the sweet-talking type. Bubba is very easily thrown off by flirting.(Looking at you, Stretch) That and gentleness. Be a gentleman and you got Bubba swooning, especially if you're like that even after they've shown you they're cannibals.

We all know Bubba's not super dominant, at all. She's rather submissive and it's usually taken advantage of, since she struggles saying no. And they rarely get thank you's. Proper praise will get you a long, long way.

Pick. Bubba. Up. Pick her up. Do it. Pick them up and carry them around like a precious husband wife because that's what they are. They deserve it, their legs probably hurt from working all day!

Helping out around the house in general will score you major points. Especially if you aid in the process of getting food, that'll get you points with the rest of the family too. The more good word you have in Bubba's family, the more they'll be willing to keep you, because Bubba's love for you is honestly the only thing keeping you alive.

𖤐Bonus NSFW𖤐

Praise. Praise praise praise praise, praise and compliments all over the place. Bubba has been nothing but criticized their entire life, if there's anything they need both in and out of sexual experiences, it's words of affirmation. They're even more submissive when underneath you. Because(southern accent activated), lawd almighty what a big strong man you are!~ Oh also, call them good girl/good boy/good baby.

Bubba's got no fuckin' clue what to do. They've only occasionally seen a dirty magazine or the clip of a porn movie that Chop-Top left on the old TV. You're gonna need to teach them basically everything. Just make sure you're gentle, because Bubba is sensitive and they need patience when it come to new things. God forbid they have an overstimulated meltdown during something that's supposed to bring you two closer together.

The old floorboards whined under your weight as you looked around the old house. "Pardon me, but uh...is anyone here?!" You called. "I don't mean to intrude, I was just wonderin' if I could borrow some water..." You voice trailed off at the sight of an...oddly furnished room. A bench made of bones, a chicken in a cage, feathers everywhere. More and more bones that were no doubt human. Alarm bells rang in your skull, amplified when there was a heavy slam of a metal door being opened, and quick footsteps. You took a defensive stance when you saw a large figure appear, dressed a button up, cowboy boots, old pants and a stained yellow apron. They held a hammer in thick hands and looked around, letting out animalistic like squeals and distressed grunts, until they spotted you. Though typically the fight type, you couldn't seem to do that or resort to flight, stuck in place. Their hands waved a bit and they ran at you full force. For a moment, your gaze fell on a cracked floorboard, one you'd avoided coming in. "Whoa hey now, wait-!" Too late, they stepped on it and it gave way, sending their leg through the floor. They whined and kicked, getting more distressed by the moment. "Hey!" They snapped their gaze up to you. It took a lot of willpower not to cringe at the sight of their mask. Instead approaching slowly with your hands open and in front of you. "Easy, alright? Relax. You're just gonna get yourself hurt thrashin' 'round like that." The stranger let out more noises of distress. "Relax, sweetheart, I ain't gonna hurt'cha." They stopped moving as soon as the pet name left your mouth. Confused, likely. They let out a little concerned whimper as you knelt down and tugged the floorboard next to the broken one. It pulled up and their leg was freed. "Look, see? Nothin' to worry 'bout. Just gotta be careful with these old floors. They give way real easy." They twisted the hammer around in their hands, standing rather stiff as you rose to your full height. Not much different from theirs. You exhaled and introduced yourself by your name. "I apologize for just bargin' in, door was open and I kinda thought this place wasn't occupied. I was just lookin' for a drink if that's alright?" You asked. They shifted their weight from side to side, shyly. Were you insane for considering this cute? Probably, but that wasn't a concern at the moment. They eventually nodded. "Yeah? Well alright then, thank ya, sweetheart. I really appreciate it." They squeaked at the pet name again and flapped their hands, pushing their face into the palms. You chuckled softly. Nearly killed only to charm the attacker, only in Texas.

✦Stu Macher ~ Ghostface✦

Stu. Is. So. Fucking. Gay. Extremely gay. “Oh but Tatu-“ SHHHH, gay. He’s a switch with a casually dominant personality, but he’s not really a dominant person. He’s just intense. He’s actually pretty gullible, especially when looking for praise or approval. Man likes to be included.

He's got a bit of a type for soft-spoken alternative dudes. Like, quiet & brooding. Basically the opposite of himself. You could say anything and if it's said in the right tone, he'll go with it. Why do you think Billy had such an easy time manipulating him?

If you're taller than him, which means over 6'4", bonus points. Major bonus points. Because that's rare and he's a whore.

Proving that you can handle yourself in dangerous situations, or that you can completely whoop ass? Stu finds that super attractive. Especially if you don't even instigate it. The whole "I don't start fights but I finish them" thing is extremely sexy to him.

He's gonna stalk you, just so you know, but he's not very good at it. Stu's a bit too loud and obvious. But he's definitely gonna try and impede your schedule so you two can constantly bump into each other, he thinks he's being subtle but he's not. It's endearing if you don't look too hard at it.

He's not necessarily the ride-or-die type with Billy in the picture, no matter how hot you are. HOWEVER, if you somehow get in on the Ghostface plot? And you're cool with it? Oh now he HAS to suck your dick, it's just a requirement. Especially if you help out directly. Depending on how you treat him and if you're manipulative enough, you might even replace Billy in Stu's mental throne. But you'd have to put in the work, don't expect it to be easy.

𖤐Bonus NSFW𖤐

With Stu, you don't really need a dominant or submissive relationship. It kinda just...exists, and that can be very refreshing! He's really not picky on whether or not he's top or bottom, he just likes feeling good. That being said, he has an affinity for oral. Giving or receiving. And he's unfairly good at it.

Pillow. Talk. Do it, all the time. If you want Stu to be your mushy-brained-bitch, use pillow talk. Saying the right things in a soft, breathy tone could be enough to make him jizz in his pants. Just expect him to be just as vulgar in return, and he has no shame, he'll do it in public. Match his energy.

Music flowed from a stereo in the kitchen, mixing with the voices of high school seniors and the clinking of alcohol bottles. Stu's house was known for great parties, especially around Halloween. He enjoyed the atmosphere of social gatherings and he made for a great, unconventional host. Ensuring everyone was as drunk as they wanted and everyone felt comfortable to let loose. He jumped out from behind a corner with a mask on, it smelt of booze and weed and he'd simply found it resting on his dining room table. Two girls, both dressed as angels, screamed. One smacked him in the chest after he took off the mask whilst laughing. Stu sipped some beer from a red solo cup as he meandered through his entryway. "Stu!" A junior girl that he sometimes asked to do his homework skipped up to him, smiling as she held a new model cellphone in her hand. "My cousin just called me cause he's new in town, can I invite him over? He's the same age as you and-" She squeaked when Stu hugged her into his side casually. "Shhhshhh your explanations, sweetheart! Call'em! But he better be cool!" He insisted. She grinned and quickly dialed back her cousin as Stu chugged back the rest of his alcohol.

It was hard hearing the heavy knock on the door about thirty minutes later, but Stu prided himself on how good his hearing was, despite all the music he tended to blast. He didn't get to the door before the same girl ran up with a smile. What was her name again? Stella? "That's probably him!" She exclaimed excitedly as Stu swung the front door open. It caught him off guard that he had to look up instead of down. His mouth grew dry as he was met face-to-face with a motorcycle helmet. "Oh, sorry." The stranger's voice was muffled and their gloved hands rose to hoist the helmet off, they quickly fixed their hair. "Thanks for the invite, I'm guessin' you're Stu?"

"The one and only! Nice to meet'cha cowboy. Got any booze?" Stu was excellent at quick recovery. You dug into your pocket for a moment and pulled out a small shot-bottle of vodka. "'Specially for the host." You said, Stu grinned and took it, stepping aside and dramatically motioning for you to enter. Stella began rambling off to you about how happy she was you were in town whilst Stu just...stared. It was noticeable at this point, which made you look over. "You want a picture, big guy?" Stu felt horniness sucker punch him in the ribs. "Nah, I'm good with staring!" He grinned. He swallowed as you snickered. "Alrighty then, feel free." Stu would be staring at you a lot. A whole lot.

✦Billy Loomis ~ Ghostface✦

Did someone say INTERNALIZED HOMOPHOBIA?? It's so obvious. Now, I think Billy is bisexual, but he's hella hesitant to admit he's into dudes. For the sake of his dad, the idea of a dude having more power than him, and the time period? It's not easy for him to just be cool with it when it comes to himself.

That being said, Billy's more of a bottom than he'd like to admit. And it comes out with dudes that are bigger than him, and it's even worse if they're not easy to manipulate. Which you're not. That pisses him off so much.

Rule of thumb with a Ghostface? Energy matching. Be just as smooth-voiced and eerily calm and he's gonna have heart palpitations. It pisses him off so bad that he can't affect you.

To be completely honest, he's gonna try and stab you because he's an angsty teenage boy who can't handle his feelings so it's easier to get rid of the cause. Of course, it's not that easy. You don't make it easy, and that also makes him more into you. He likes the adrenaline of a struggle.

What'll really get him is if you somehow get him vulnerable, which will take a blue-moon and 1/10,000 type of luck odds. But not take advantage of it. Don't pity him and don't poke at him, just...being there. Even trying to lighten the mood, that kind of thing gets any angry boy with mommy issues to get at least a lil soft.

If you know he's Ghostface and ask to help, especially if he just tried to kill you? Bro how dare you...offer something so sexy, of course he's gonna say yes. But don't ask to be a Ghostface. He's comfortable with being in control of that aspect. But you can help with things like the gameplay or the information on victims, or being an alibi. If you can be an alibi put on the spot? Mm, so sexy.

𖤐Bonus NSFW𖤐

Look, I know Billy probably isn't a bottom at all, but this is fiction and I can do whatever I want. And I say Billy Loomis is a reluctant pillow princess. Reluctant because of internalized homophobia and a fear of being vulnerable, but we're gonna lie to ourselves and say that you somehow managed to get past that.

You're gonna need to have the patience of a saint. No hard doms here, ironically. He likes a power struggle, but what really gets him is you being in control and calm. Like you don't have to try. Oddly enough that kind of thing is comforting. It feels like he's relinquishing control to someone who knows what they're doing, rather than someone flying blind.

Billy chucked the burner phone as hard as he could into the woods surrounding Stu's house before bending down and ensuring his knife was properly strapped down. Hidden under his jeans and boots. The music from inside was headache-inducing. Stu was far more sociable than Billy, he had never been much of a party person, aside from the booze. He was more of a homebody.

He walked around the house and went over his alibi story a few more times as he hopped onto the porch, ringing the doorbell. It swung open to Stu, who was very clearly buzzed, if not just straight drunk. "Billy! Baby, my man, c'mere. I gotta introduce you to this dude." Billy didn't get a chance to speak as Stu pulled him inside, rambling on. The teen sighed and rolled his eyes. "Aight, Bill, this is the new guy that's coming to our school next week." Stu motioned to you. Significantly taller than him and probably twice as broad, holding an air of natural intimidation and a stern expression. But it softened when you turned.

"Oh, you're Billy? Stu kept talkin' bout you. Nice to meet you." You held out a large gloved hand, mentioning your name. Billy held up his fist instead, which you quickly adjusted to make it a fist bump. "Bill, this dude is so cool. He's got like a ton of motorcycles and a fuck ton of knives-" Stu slurred. "I have two motorcycles, one of which isn't even technically mine. And I have a collection of pocket knives, he's exaggerating." You smiled. "Oh! You two wait here, I'm gonna get you both some booze." You didn't have a chance to deny the offer before Stu rushed off.

Billy stood with his arms crossed, tongue tucked into his cheek. "Introvert?" You asked. "Hm? Oh uh, yeah, more or less." He replied, to which you nodded. "Yeah, I'm not much for parties either. I'm just here for my cousin. Definitely wasn't my plan for tonight." Billy blew some of his hair out of his face, leaning on a wall. "Then what was your plan?" "Watching scary movies." You replied, and maybe it wasn't intentional, but you noticed how he perked up. "Yeah? You a big horror fan?" He inquired. You nodded with a growing smile. "Oh yeah, especially the gory ones. They're the most fun. Do you like scary movies?" You asked. Billy nodded. "Mhm." "What's your favorite scary movie?" He felt a shiver run down his spine as you tilted your head, probably unaware of just how significant the word choice was. Billy smiled and rested the back of his head against the wall. For a moment, slightly lowering his guard as he grinned slyly. "Guess."

✦Brahms Heelshire ~ The Boy✦

How the fuck did you manage to make that happen? We have no idea. Assuming you're a nanny, that is. There's always a chance you work for the Heelshire's for a different reason. (my boy @disc0dild0s has a fic like this on Wattpad, y'all should look at it)

But for my personal wants, we're gonna say you're the nanny, and you somehow meandered your way into a position. Maybe the Heelshire's were just extremely desperate for anyone at that point that they basically told Brahms to deal with it. He has no choice, really. He's gonna be the biggest brat because you're not the pretty woman he asked his parents for.

Yet, seeing how well you handle the job, all the patience you have and the kind demeanor you carry, it intrigues him. Until eventually he's attached. He doesn't know what exactly to do with the emotions, because it feels the same way as it did back when he had female nannies, but...you're a man. Isn't that weird? You can thank his old ass parents for that.

When he reveals himself, it's probably an accident. He's worried you'll run away of course, but part of him is also worried you'll whoop his ass. You're bigger than him and he's seen you hoist shit up no problem when cleaning the mansion. Which is very sexy as much as it is intimidating.

But there goes your gentle nature again, despite how you look. You don't run away even if you probably should, and you don't whoop his ass. Brahms is so hooked after that.

He's not going to make it easy for you. He's got it built in his head that he's the man of the house, that's what his father was trying to turn him into after all. But he is not, you are. You may follow his rules but you also keep him in line, you do all the work, and you could probably snap him in half. He can't just outright admit he enjoys it but he does. Especially when he's feeling sensitive and vulnerable. It's comforting to be carried around by a big strong man, probably more than it should be.

𖤐Bonus NSFW𖤐

B O T T O M . Holy shit he's a fuckin' bottom. And a pillow princess, for sure. He's there to feel good, what do you mean you want him to do some of the work?

Brahms is horny as hell but he's not really sure what to do. Teaching him what to do as a woman is difficult, but at least he's read some books to have a very hazy idea. Two men? There's like...two books in that library within it that he probably isn't aware are there. But he's willing to learn, as long as it feels good.

"Brahms? Brahms! Come on, Brahms, I'm not mad, you can come out! I wasn't trying to make fun of you!" You called. The only response you got was the echo of your own voice bouncing back from the walls. You sighed, resting your hands on your hips. It really was a misunderstanding. It had been a month and a half since Brahms had been caught outside the walls. It had been quite the experience. Freaky, but, the reality of his situation was heartwrenching, and his pleading for you not to leave really solidified it. It didn't feel right to leave. So you stayed, now properly caring for a grown man instead of a doll.

He was a man, even if he had these slips in mentality where he acted like a kid. But being an adult with barely any contact, affectionate or otherwise, could lead to some issues. One of which caused Brahms to grow extremely embarrassed recently, which was why he'd retreated into the walls. He'd gotten a pretty obvious boner from just a hug, something you had noticed and lightly teased him for. It was an attempt at lightening the mood but it backfired. You'd given him some time, hoping it would settle down and you could talk to him properly. Unfortunately, an hour had passed and he still wasn't out. Now dinner was nearly done and you didn't want him skipping a meal.

Though the dust would've made your allergies hell, you approached a mirror in one of the sitting rooms, setting it up on a wall before slipping through the cutout behind it. You'd never properly gone into the walls, but you'd heard and seen Brahms use the pathways. You rubbed your nose as you took an inhale, immediately burning from all the dust. "No wonder he coughs all the time...poor baby." You muttered as you began walking. It was confusing and you were far more lost than you'd anticipated, but eventually, you saw the glimpse of a bedside lamp.

You were quiet as you approached. Brahms' inner bedroom was...well, sad. Given he felt the need to live all hidden in the walls on an old bed without support, cobwebs everywhere. You could only imagine how bad his lungs would be if he'd been left in here any longer than he had. The man laid on the mattress in the corner, facing the wall, hugging something you could recognize. A sweater that had gone missing from your luggage a while ago. You sighed as you stood, crossing your arms. "Brahms." Your voice made him harshly flinch, scrambling to sit up and push himself more into the corner.

He let out a sad noise and shrank back, making you frown more. "Hey, hey, don't do that. I'm not here to chastise you." You said softly, walking closer. You tried not to think of the cleanliness of his bed as you sat down, keeping some distance so he didn't feel pressured. "Brahms, sweetheart, can you look at me please?" He did as asked, probably because of the pet name. "I'm not upset or anything, you know that, right? I was just trying to make light of it. I wasn't trying to embarrass you." You explained as Brahms picked at a string in the sweater.

"'s embarassing." He muttered. His voice teetered between states, but was overall soft and muffled. "I know, and I'm sorry for teasing you. But it's okay, it's not like you can help it." You reassured. "But, but...but you're a man..." Brahms replied. Oh. You sighed and glanced at the wall, thinking. "Yes, but, that doesn't have to mean anything. I'm sure you've been told that's weird but it's really not. I like men." You shrugged, a bit caught off guard by how shocked Brahms seemed. "Really?" "I- pfft, yeah? Do you think I go around flirting with just every guy friend I have? No." You smiled. Brahms' face grew warm and red under his mask. "I...I didn't know, I wasn't really sure."

"Well yes, I was flirting with you. You can take that how you will. And if something like that happens again, we can deal with it or we can not. But you don't have to run from me, okay?" You whispered, holding out a hand for him to take. He hesitated but did so, even though he didn't move closer either. "Regardless of the situation, you don't need to hide. I don't want you to feel that way with me. Okay?" Brahms swallowed and messed with a ring you wore. He sighed and nodded shyly. His first instinct was always to hide, even if it always made him feel worse after doing it. "Good boy, now come on, it's dinner time and I don't want it getting cold." You stood up and he did the same, messing with the sweater. "You can keep that if you want." Brahms glanced at the fabric. It had some cobwebs on it and a few flyaway strings from him picking at it, but he took off his cardigan and put it over his head. You chuckled and took the opportunity to kiss his temple, putting him more at ease. "We can talk more about it later. Let's get you some food first. Now, help me get out of here because I nearly got lost at least four times." Brahms snickered quietly and walked ahead of you.

[kairiscorner]

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

no but like, he would be a cat person.

can we keep it? — miguel o'hara x reader

summary: you met the love of your life in an alternate universe, and when you laid eyes on it for the first time, you knew it was true love. though miggy was the only hurdle to your love with it, but of course, as is with all things, he lets you have your way and love it wholeheartedly. and maybe, just maybe... he comes to love it with you, too. word count: 772 a/n: i am so fucking terrified of cats BUT THESE KITTENS ARE CUTE, i might never hold one though willingly........... sadly..............

your eyes were big, bright, and hopeful. you wanted to express your absolute need to have it, to bring it home, to love and pamper it with all your heart and never let it fend for itself in the rain anymore, but of course— "no." he answered in a monotonous voice as he scrolled on the screen of his watch, setting coordinates back to HQ. you held the poor, wet kitten in your hands, bringing it closer to you. you had only known this kitten for 2 minutes, but you felt like those minutes were 2 lifetimes already. "please mig! c'mon, spider cat hates me, this kitty's in love with me, and i love it, too!" you pleaded as miguel opened up a portal back to earth-928 and stepped forward to enter it; however, you grabbed his wrist and tugged him back out. he sighed and glared at you, barely turning his head around. "do i need to remind you i don't necessarily give a damn if a cat likes you or not?" he asked you sarcastically.

"well, no, but... just look at it! look!" you cried out as you let go of his hand and cupped the kitten with both of your hands. miguel refused to let this tomfoolery play out any longer, so to get you to shut up, he reluctantly turned around and faced the feline. though to his surprise... the kitten's eyes were as big and sweet as you described them. they seemed to be in a constant pleading state, pleading miguel to let it come with you both. "miggy, oh, please! let me come home with you..." you said in a high-pitched voice as you moved the kitten around, imitating it.

"i'll be a good kitty and stay out of trouble! i'll poo in the right litter box, i'll be loved to bits by my new best friend who's much cooler than you, but that's besides the point!" you said as you acted like the kitten, with the kitten poking its tongue out as you shook it around while imitating it. miguel sighed as he waved his hand dismissively and turned around. "...you promise to take care of it?" "yes." "take responsibility for it?" "yes." "use your own money to feed it, give it water, proper housing, its shots, checkups, medicines, and such?" "yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes." "then fine. just keep it out of trouble, do not bring that furball near me, and shut up on the way back." miguel said as he stepped inside the portal, with you giggling and cheering as you finally had a kitty friend with you.

by the time you returned to HQ, you showed everyone your new best friend, your kitten! everyone was fawning over it, albeit spider cat couldn't care less, your kitten stole everyone's love and hearts. even lyla had ranted to miguel that he should have made her a life-sized vessel for her to be able to pet it, but miguel merely grumbled at her complaint. "it's just a cat." he said as lyla raised her eyebrow at him. "yeah, a cat that stole not only everyone's hearts... but theirs, too. they did find that cat first, so guess you lost to a cat of all creatures." lyla quipped as miguel felt embarrassed about, well... losing your attention and love to a cat.

not that he was gonna admit yet, of course; you were happy with the cat, who was he to hinder you from being happy? though he kinda wished that— "i wish i was that cat." miguel whispered under his breath as lyla leaned in closer. "what?" she asked, but miguel turned away with a sigh. "nothing." he said as he turned away from his desk and hopped down from his platform to leave his office. he got to the doors, when suddenly— "i wish i was that cat," those six words made miguel halt in his tracks as he heard his own hushed voice reverberate throughout HQ. miguel felt his face grow hot and his eyes widen as the door opened and... you were there, with the kitten in your arms.

"uh, hi mig." you said awkwardly with a nervous smile as miguel got super flustered now, knowing you heard that announcement loud and clear. "and for the record, yes, he means that cat." lyla clarified as she logged off before miguel could tear her displayed image apart. well, he has some explaining to do... never though you'd live to see the day miguel o'hara of all people would be jealous of your cat, but that's a story for another time.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @ophanimgold @arachnoia @fiannee @fictarian @yuridopted0 @jrrantss