#kinda but i’m the reader and this is basically done from me to myself

[thevirginslvt]

don’t be fooled by his massive honkers he stinks

[vinnyvamppp]

I NEED A FIC OF THE NO GOGGLES MARK VARIANT!!!

specifically make him THAT KINDA FREAK we already know he loves to toy with others (from his battle with the Guards of the Globe) and is crazy asf with a sense of dark humor. My fic idea is where he’s with his gf and this is their first time having sex tg and she doesn’t know about his kinks or anything since she would just take his comments of him telling her to ‘try to choke him’ or basically to inflict pain on each other as a joke.

Slap Me Silly

Note: This is yummy, we like this, we NEED this. I've seen maybe two fics have elements of this, so lemme just—slide myself in. (the pic is a hint SOMEONE TIE HIM UP)

Warnings: Nipple play (most male receiving), Switch Lenless!Mark, Dom!Reader, Riding, SadoMasochism, Tit Squeezing, Biting, Dark Humor, Choking, Degrading, "Good Boy", Slapping, Dirty Talk, Porn w a Plot, Smut, and ofc the over usage of 'Dude'. Synopsis: The title is self explanatory... buckle up.

No Goggles/Lensless!Mark x Dom!Fem Reader

Word Count: 2,303

The apartment is quiet, save for the occasional hum of traffic outside and the soft rustle of fabric as you shift on the couch. Mark is stretched out beside you, legs spread like he owns the place—because, in his mind, he does. His grin is lazy, all teeth, and his dark eyes flick toward you with that ever-present glint of mischief.

“You keep staring at me like that, babe,” he murmurs, tilting his head against the couch cushion, “and I’m gonna start thinking you actually like me.” You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. “God forbid.” He chuckles, low and amused, and suddenly he’s closer—leaning in like he’s got a secret to tell. “Nah, I think you do,” he teases, his breath warm against your jaw. “Like, a lot.” You scoff, pushing at his chest. “You wish.” Mark lets himself fall back dramatically, spreading his arms out like he’s been struck. “Right in the heart. Dude! That was brutal.” Rolling your eyes, you reply. “You’ll live,” you deadpan.

“Oh, I always live.” He winks, and for a second, there’s something in his expression, something dark and knowing, a reminder of just how much weight those words actually carry. But then it’s gone, replaced by that ever-present smugness. His fingers drum against his thigh. “Y’know, I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous.”

“Ha. Ha.” He smirks. “No, but really—since we’re both so hopelessly in love or whatever—” You snort, but he ignores you. “—don’t you think it’s weird that we haven’t, y’know, done anything yet?” His eyebrows lift, feigning innocence. “Not that I’m complaining. I like a good slow burn. Gets me all antsy and horny.” Your stomach tightens. It’s not like you haven’t thought about it. Mark is—well, Mark. Infuriating, cocky, always pushing just to see how far he can go. But he’s also magnetic in a way that makes it impossible to look away. And when he wants something? He gets it.

Still, you manage to play it cool. “I figured you’d explode if you went more than a week without getting laid.” Mark grins, tilting his head. “I do like explosions.”

You shake your head, but before you can throw another sarcastic remark his way, he moves. Fast. Not using his full speed—he’s learned his lesson about freaking you out like that—but enough to make your breath hitch as he’s suddenly towering over you, hands braced on either side of your hips. “Wanna hear something funny?” he asks, voice dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken.

You swallow. “That depends.” His fingers trail up your arm, barely touching, just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “You remember all those times I told you to try and choke or slap me?” You let out a brief chuckle. “You mean when you were being weird?” Mark hums, lips twitching like he’s holding back a laugh. “See, that’s the thing—you think I was joking.”

Your breath catches. His eyes are half-lidded now, watching you with something between amusement and hunger. “…You weren’t?” Mark smirks. “Dude. You have no idea.” He leans in, brushing his nose against yours. You stare at him for a second, searching his face for any sign that he’s messing with you. Nothing. Just that same cocky, lopsided smirk—like he knows something you don’t. His grin progressively widens as you open your mouth to speak, “You have to be kidding.” Mark tilts his head, feigning offense. “Why would I joke about something so serious? Dude, I’m hurt.” Here he goes again with the dramatics. “Oh, I’ll hurt you, alright.” The words leave your mouth before you can grasp them, but Mark’s eyes light up like you just handed him a winning lottery ticket.

His lips part slightly, tongue flicking out to wet them. “Please do.” You let out a laugh—sharp, disbelieving. This idiot. He’s always like this. Pushing buttons just to see what happens. You stared, more interested than before, your head shaking. “You’re insane.” Mark doesn’t miss a beat. “And you love it.”

You roll your eyes and, without thinking, lift your hand and smack him across the face. A sharp pop echoed as your palm struck his cheek, snapping his head to the side. Not hard, just enough to wipe that smug look off him. Or, well. That was the intention. Because instead of looking shocked or offended, Mark just stares at you. Slow blinks. Chest rising and falling a little too deliberately. “…Holy shit.” He gasps, making you hesitate.

He lets out a breathy laugh, touching his cheek where you slapped him. Then, with a grin that is way too excited for comfort, he looks back at you. “Dude.” His dark eyes go heavy-lidded, lips parting slightly as he exhales slowly, shaky, and wrecked like you just did something unspeakably good to him, and he’s already desperate for more. You blink. “What?”

“Do that again.”

You pull back slightly in hesitation, wondering how you even scored this crazy fuck. Taking notice, Mark clicks his tongue, shaking his head like you just deeply disappointed him. “C’mon, Dude. Don’t be like that.” He leans in again, voice dipping lower. “I liked it.” Your stomach flips. You open your mouth two seconds away from calling him an absolute freak, but Mark beats you to it. “See, this is why I keep you around,” he muses, like he’s talking to himself. “You get me.” He rasps with an estranged fascination, seemingly savoring the sting against his cheek. “I literally do not—”

“—you do, though.” He gestures vaguely. “Even if you pretend you don’t. Which is, like, really cute, by the way.” He pauses dramatically with a slight sing song “And hot.” You exhale through your nose. Okay. Fine. He wants to be weird? You can be weirder. So, with the most exaggerated sigh you can manage, you lift your hand and slap him again. This time, it’s harder. The slap lands sharp and sudden, a crisp crack that echoes in the quiet room.

His skin is warm under your palm, the impact sending a fleeting sting through your fingers, while the faintest thrum of satisfaction lingers in the air between you. Mark's head tilts slightly from the force, but the way he laughs is low, throaty, and giddy. The kind that sends something hot and electric through your spine. His gaze snaps back to you, darker now. “Oh, yeah,” he breathes, voice thick with something you don’t quite know how to name yet. “That’s the stuff.” Your gaze flickered lower, his hips fidgeting. He was hard.

Mark leans in, close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath against your lips. He’s still grinning like he’s just won the lottery, panting like an excited mutt before he whispers, “…Your turn.” You took this as an invitation to explore his other kinks, his willingness empowering you like never before. The space between you ceased to exist in an instant, your bodies pulled together with an urgency that set your skin ablaze, his lips claiming yours like a force of nature. Groans filled the space within your mouths, his sloppy kisses trailing lower over your neck. You deserved such romance for your first time, but his body was already seething for more.

His hand reaches forward, fingers tingling with excitement as they curl around your throat. He forces you down against the couch, the pressure against your windpipe causing you to gasp. Before he could do more your hand lashes out, striking his cheek with a resounding slap. He paused, welcoming the change from his usual dominance. "Fuck yeah," he growls, his voice thick and eager. "Don't hold back, babe."

Emboldened further, you push him back and climb onto his lap, straddling his hips. You can feel his hard already weeping cock pressing against your clothed sex, the heat of him seeping through the thin fabric of your panties. You grab his throat, squeezing just enough to make him gasp. "You like this, don't you? Being used like a little bitch?" You insulted, testing the waters.

Mark's eyes flutter closed as he lets out a shuddering moan. "Yes," he hisses, his hips bucking up against you. "I fucking love it." His hands grip your thighs tightly, fingers digging into your skin.

You tighten your grip on his throat, feeling his pulse jump under your palm. "Beg for it," you demand, grinding your cunt against his straining erection. "Beg me to choke you while I ride your cock." Mark's eyes snap open, gleaming with satisfaction. "Please," he rasps, his voice strained from your hold. "Please, please, choke me while you use my dick. I want to feel you squeeze the air from my lungs as you cum all over me."

A thrill runs through you at his words, at the complete submission and desperation in his voice. You release his throat, only to fist your hand in his hair, yanking his head back. "Good boy," you purr, before crushing your lips against his in a fervent kiss. You rake your nails down his skin, leaving angry red lines in their wake.

You whimper into his mouth—his hands moving to your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh. You can feel him throbbing against you, his cock leaking pre-cum into his pants. Breaking the kiss, you lean back and hastily remove your top—exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. His fingers follow suit, bringing his shirt over his head as he refuses to blink even once. "Fuck yes, Mistress." He groans, voice strained as his eyes glued to your tits. "You're so goddamn sexy." His lips nearly prepared to worship you.

It was odd, you stared down at him enjoying the power you have over him. He could easily turn the tides at any moment, but he was so willing to fuck you with such courtesy. Your fingers gently tapped against his throat—just threatening—begging him to make a move that would cause your grip to tighten. Mark immediately sits back, panting and red-cheeked. You lift your hips, his hands shove down your panties and help you kick them off. Then, with a courage-building sigh, you line up his cock with your dripping entrance. Mark groans—hands flying to your hips. "Need to feel your tight pussy around my cock."

Without warning, he slams you down onto him, taking him to the hilt in one smooth motion. You both groan at the sudden intrusion—Mark's head falling back as his fingers dig into your hips hard enough to bruise. "Oh god," you moan, savoring the feeling of him stretching you open. "You're so fucking big, where were you hiding this thing?!"

"I'm gonna fill this pussy up so good," Mark declares between giggles, his hips starting to move beneath you. "Gonna pump you full of my cum until it's leaking out of you." The dirty words only spur you on. You start to ride him fast, your hips slamming down onto him as you chase your pleasure—barely allowing yourself to breathe. Your hand never leaves his throat, tightening and loosening in time with your movements. Mark's face is flushed—his eyes glassy with lust as he bucks up into you—meeting you thrust for thrust.

"Harder," you demand, squeezing his throat tighter, his eyes rolling back. "F-fuck me harder." Mark lets out a choked groan, but does as he's told, slamming up into you with renewed vigor. The new angle has him hitting depths you didn't know existed, making stars burst behind your eyelids with each thrust. You can feel the pressure building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter as he pounds into your g-spot. Releasing him from your ever-desired grip, he protests, his hips punctuating as you let out a yelp. “Dude..!” He whines, exasperated before a resounding clap echoes against his cheek, his face growing warm as blood swelled. “Again! Again…!” He encouraged, and you followed suit devilering smack after smack. The feeling only rousing him more as his hips pressed further.

Arching your back forward, your tongue finds the blistering streaks left from your nails. Soothing them with the soothing stroke of the muscle, you lick over his nipples—teeth tugging on them gently. The small buds hardened slightly from the cold air, and his grunt echoed from above. “Holy shit... yes!” Coming up for air, he returns the favor—hands leaving your ass and latching onto your tits as he squeezes them like stress balls. It's painful—he knows but he attones as his thumb traces rings around your areolas causing mild pleasure.

Your hands returned to his throat, tightening like a vice. With a strangled chuckle, his cock twitched inside you as he floods your pussy with his hot seed. The feeling of him pulsing inside you—the overwhelming sensations overloading your senses, and the obscene squelching sounds of his cum filling you pushes you over the edge. You throw your head back with a scream as your orgasm crashes over you—your cunt spasming as you gasp. Were orgasms always meant to feel this strong?

Mark groans as he feels you contracting around him. "Milk my cock dry. Take every last drop." You continue to ride him through your climax, grinding your clit against his pelvis until the last waves of pleasure fade away. When you finally collapse against his chest, both of you are panting and covered in sweat.

You could barely catch your breath when he spoke up. "Dude, we're definitely doing that again," you murmur against his chest, exhausted, he chuckles, his chest vibrating beneath you. "Hell yeah we are." He says to himself. Without missing another beat, you're suddenly flipped over—his cock hardened with renewed energy. "Ready for round two?" He asks, tracing patterns against your calves as he spreads your legs over his shoulders. Now it was truly your turn.

Can you guys tell I love submissive or freaky men? Hopefully, this fulfills your request!

MasterList ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

[lze325]

Thats One Way To Confess

changbin x fem! reader

genre: non-idol/college au, friends to lovers

warnings: mdni, language, talk/joking about sex, kinda explicit texts messages, jokes about death, reader and changbin are stupid (let me know if i need any more)

summary: what happens when you accidentally send the messages meant for your friend to the person they were about?

basic info: you live with hyunjin, seungmin, and felix. changbin lives with han and chan. you all decided to get drunk to celebrate the end of midterms but while drunk you tried texting hyunjin about how good changbin looks but clicked on the wrong contact.

a/n: im bad at summaries, also first post! not proofread please let me know if there are mistakes

————————————————————————————

“what have i done?” i repeat over and over to myself as i stare at the messages i sent last night. i practically throw my blankets off myself grabbing the first pieces of clothing i find before making my way to the living room.

“HYUNJIN” i yell as soon as i see him sitting on the couch. he jumps at the sound of my voice opening his mouth to respond but before he can i grab him and pull him back to my room.

“what’s this about?” he asks his voice laced with curiosity. “did i do something?”

“no i did” i pause trying to find words “i- its better if i show you,” i grab my phone pulling up the messages i sent last night.

“i decided to text you last night about changbin because you remember how good he looked at dinner and i think the liquor loosened my lips a little too much.”

he gives me a look of pure confusion “i didn’t get those messages?”

“yeah no shit, i clicked the wrong contact.”

he does a double take glancing back at the contact, “YOU SENT CHANGBIN THE PORNO TEXTS?”

“shut up,” i slap his arm hoping seungmin and felix didn’t hear that.

“sorry sorry, but like what are you gonna do about this?” hyunjin questions rubbing the part of his arm i slapped.

“die probably, i mean its not like i can just talk to him about it he’s my best friend and i probably just ruined everything.”

“you definitely didn’t ruin everything,” hyunjin reaches out as if to comfort me but decides against it last minute because it probably won’t help much.

“he’s gonna think i’m weird and gross and never want to talk to me again” i say while pacing around the room, “i’m just going to curl up and die.”

my phone pings with a text as i glance down at the illuminated screen.

“fuck me,” i say throwing my phone on my bed before falling on it. “my life is over.”

hyunjin grabs my arm pulling me up so i’m sitting on the edge of the bed as he tries to stop me from spiraling “just talk to him and explain the situation i’m sure he’ll understand.”

“you’re too hopeful,” i add before laying back down covering my face with my hands.

“are you gonna text him back?”

“i don’t think i can handle that rejection right now so no i’m not.”

————————————————————————————

“have either of you seen my phone?” changbin asks sitting down at the table and pulling out his laptop.

han looks over at him, “yeah i grabbed it, you left it in my car last night,” he says tossing changbin’s phone over to him.

“thanks-“ he starts but as he flips his phone over to look at the screen he notices the messages from last night.

chan notices the look on changbin’s face as his brows furrow. “what is it?”

“y/n texted me last night.” he responds the confusion present on his face.

“she texts you all the time, what’s new?” han rolls his eyes “you can barely sit through a class without texting each other, it’s honestly sickening.” he fake gags as if to express his words even more.

“knock it off hannie, she admitted she has feelings for me… over text… while drunk” changbin breathes out still in disbelief.

“you didn’t know?” chan’s glance shoots up from his laptop.

changbin whips his head around very close to giving himself whiplash, “what are you talking about?”

“YOU ACTUALLY DIDNT KNOW?” this time it’s han questioning. “have you not seen the way she looks at you, how she constantly wants to be close to you, the fact that she hates physical touch but she constantly initiates it with you. she’s down bad.”

“you think she meant it?” changbin asks, the project they were working on long forgotten.

han sighs pushing his notebook away as he leans onto the table in front of him, “a wise person once said drunk words are sober thoughts and she was drunk out her mind. i mean you saw her last night she literally fell asleep at the table and made jeongin carry her to the car.”

chan try’s to ease changbin’s mind slightly, “she did think she was texting hyunjin and acted like they talk about it all the time. why would she do that if she didn’t actually feel that way.” he adds trying to ease my mind.

“i don’t even know what to say.” changbin looks back at the messages trying to decide what to do.

————————————————————————————

a few hours later

i ignore his messages because i don’t want to make more of a fool of myself. i lay in my bed wondering if i should just transfer to a different school to avoid the embarrassment.

hyunjin left a while ago to go to class he tried to take me with but i refused since i knew changbin would be there.

i knew i would have to eventually face him but for the time being sulking and feeling bad for myself felt like the best idea.

that was until there was a knock on the door.

“who is it?” i yell over not really wanting to get up.

“y/n open the door.”

no that voice, i could recognize that voice anywhere, “please go away changbin, i don’t want to do this right now.”

“y/nnie please open the door,” his voice sounds almost upset.

reluctantly i stand up from the bed and move to unlock my bedroom door, “i know you’re here to make fun of me or tell me i’m weird or disgusting or both. i’m sorry i sent those messages they weren’t meant for you and i shouldn’t have been saying things like that no matter what. i didn’t want to mess up our friendship but i can understand if you don’t want anything to do with me anymore.” i ramble a light red hue paints my cheeks from embarrassment as i refuse to look him in the eye.

“what are you talking about? you think i’m going to stop talking to you because you admitted you have feelings for me?” he asks appalled that i would even think that.

“well i mean i know you don’t have feelings for me so i understand if you find it weird.”

“don’t tell me how i feel,” my eyes finally meet his as he says this my brows furrowing slightly.

“how do you feel?”

“i’ve been in love with you since that day you sat down in chemisty 101. the day you forgot to bring a notebook because it was your first class. you were too scared to ask anyone for something to write on so you sat and just listened to professor kim instead. when i finally noticed you weren’t writing anything i offered you my notes so you wouldn’t fall behind.” he pauses taking a breath as he glances over my face landing on my lips a second too long.

he continues, “i’ve been waiting for you to say you felt the same way because i was too nervous to tell you how i felt.”

a moment passes and i don’t respond, “please say something.”

instead of using words i grab his shirt pulling him closer to me as i kiss him. hoping to express my feelings that way. since i don’t think words are enough to explain the way i feel for him.

after a moment i pull away breathless, “you actually meant it? you feel the same way?”

“of course i do, and i’ll keep telling you until you believe it.” changbin shakes his head smiling over at me.

he laughs slightly before saying, “now about that chokehold.”

“oh god,” i cover his mouth with my hand.

this is gonna be a long night.

————————————————————————————

a/n: sorry for the rushed ending. but omg i finally finished this, if you’re still here thank you for reading it means a lot. love you all -lane

please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission

[nereidprinc3ss]

hii! could i request something w spence where he asks uni reader to move in with him and r is kinda nervous about it please🙏🙏 love all of ur fics, and thanksss 🫶🫶🫶

yass this is super cute!!!! thank you for the request, hope i did it justice

warnings/tags: fluff!! a teensy bit suggestive at the end if u squint... i cant help myself. i'm an animal

requests are open! sfw and nsfw welcome

(a/n: this is probably an awkward spot to put this but I didn't wanna make a whole other post: THANK YOU GUYS FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT!!! i have gained over 100 followers since i last posted and have over 1k notes on both of my recent works thats literally bonkers insane crazy town ACTUALLY. i love hearing your thoughts and reactions to my work even if its just a silly little comment. so yeah. thanks and so much love to u ALL)

“So basically, I’m not allowed in the dorm except to sleep because she always has her boyfriend over, and I told her that’s literally insane—I’m paying thousands of dollars to be there just like her. If she wanted privacy she should have gotten a single. She can’t just lock me out of our shared bedroom all the time! I live there!” 

You’re stabbing violently at your food by the time you finish your verbal tirade. 

“Okay, maybe put the knife down before you hurt yourself,” Spencer suggests, readying a hand to take the implement away from you if necessary. The knife clatters against your plate as you drop it. 

“She’s driving me fucking crazy,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes until you see fireworks. “And the housing department said I don’t have grounds to transfer rooms, so I’m stuck with her for the rest of the year.” 

There’s no reply from your boyfriend, and a pang of guilt in your chest makes you look up at him again. His expression, as so often is the case, is inscrutable. 

“I’m sorry for ranting. I’m really happy to see you and I don’t mean to ruin dinner, I just—” 

“You could stay with me,” he interrupts. 

You blink. 

“Like... when she locks me out?” 

Spencer laughs self-consciously. 

“No, like... permanently.” 

For a moment you just gape at him like an idiot, trying to comprehend his offer. 

He wants you to move in... with him. Permanently. He wants to live with you. 

You realize you’ve been staring at him for far too long, and you lean back, inhaling deeply as the world launches into motion again. 

“That’s... a big step, Spence,” you breathe. His eyes scan you head to toe, and you realize he’s most definitely analyzing your body language. 

“You don’t have to say yes. It was just an offer,” he shrugs, standing up and clearing the plates from the table.  

“Wait,” you call, following him to the kitchen. “Are you upset now because I leaned away from you when you asked?” 

He turns from the counter, looking at you blankly. 

“Of course not. That would be ridiculous.” 

Oh, he totally is. 

You tentatively step forward, gently lacing your fingers through his—but unable to meet his eyes.  

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you begin gingerly, “but I’m... I’m not done with school. We always said I would move in once I graduated.” 

“That’s an arbitrary limitation we set for ourselves. There are plenty of ways to get you from here to campus every day.” 

“But you’re not even here sometimes. I would just be alone.” 

“You would have the whole apartment to yourself. You would have my bed. You wouldn’t have to share a shower with an entire floor of college students anymore. And ultimately, we would get to spend a lot more time together.” 

You try to speak but find your throat is tight. Spending more time together is exactly what you’re afraid of. 

“What’s your real objection here?” he asks quietly, running his thumb back and forth over the underside of your wrist. You swallow, watching the motion of his hand.  

“I’m afraid, that if we move in together... you’ll stop liking me.” The words come out paper thin, barely audible. 

And he laughs. Your teary eyes dart up, surprised by the reaction—slightly hurt, even. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m not laughing at you,” Spencer says, sobering up when he sees your baleful expression. “I just can’t believe you think I’d stop liking you.” He wipes away the tears beading on your eyelashes delicately. “I’m in love with you. Neurologically that is pretty hard to undo.” 

You study his face, looking for any sign of hesitation or dishonesty. All you find is pure fondness in the curve of his lips; utter devotion in the soft set of his eyes. 

“You promise you won’t start hating me as soon as I move in?” 

“I promise.” 

You lean against his chest, craning your neck to look up at him. 

“I can be pretty annoying.” 

“I think I can handle it.” 

“I take really long showers.”  

He kisses you softly. “Me too. I’m sure we can figure out a way to conserve water.” 

Despite your reservations you smile against his lips. 

“Okay?” he asks. 

“Okay.” 

[words-4u]

don’t shut me out - j.l

pairing: jordan li x f!reader

wc: 766

a/n: i combined the two requests bc they felt kinda similar but i hope you guys enjoy <3

(NOTE: your super power is the ability to transform into any animal you want)

you stared at the last message you sent jordan.

to j 💗 i miss u. text me when u see this pls

you had sent that text at 8 pm last night and it was almost noon the next day and you still hadn't heard back from them. sighing deeply, you locked your phone, stuffing it in to your backpack.

is it me? did i do something? you thought.

it might seem over the top reacting this way but jordan is so communicative especially at night so it was off brand for them to go ghost like this. you were going through the different possibilities in your head as walked the god u campus to get to your next class, you had almost missed your friend calling your name.

“hey, y/n!” 

you looked up and saw cate beckoning you over to a table she’s at with andre.

“hey guys,” you said with no excitement which the blonde found weird.

“did your cat die or something? what’s up?” she asked patting the seat in between her and andre.

you huffed and set your bag on the table and your head on andre’s shoulder.

“okay this is gonna sound so stupid but i’ve been texting jordan all night last and all morning today and i haven’t heard so much as a peep from them. i know the messages are going through, i just don't know why they're ignoring me”

“oh y/n. you haven’t heard,” andre begins. ”jordan’s parents are in town. we don’t know much about them but we know they are jordan’s least favourite topic.”

“i mean they’ve told me the basics but…” you trail off.

if their parents are in town then that explain why they’ve been so hard to reach. jordan's parents have never understood them, even worse, their parents have always made them feel ashamed of their powers which is ridiculous because it was them who chose to inject their kid with compound V and take that risk.

"guys i’ve got to go,” you said grabbing your bags and transforming into an eagle, flying off to jordan's student accommodation.

you knock rapidly on your partner’s door, once you arrive. “jordan, open up!”

silence.

you grabbed your vphone out of your bag and checked the “find my” app. “i can literally see that you’re in there so either you open this door and let me in or i turn into a mouse and squeeze myself in… your choice.”

you hear some metal clanging and something unlocked and in a second you were faced with your gorgeous significant other who looked like they have been crying their eyes out.

no words needed to be said between you before you dropped your bag and pulled them into your arms, rocking them side to side.

you let a few moments pass before you spoke. “why didn't you just tell me?”

“i’m sorry,” they said pulling away. “i... fall into this pit of self hatred when my parents come around.”

you guided them to the bed and played with their fingers as you shared your thoughts. “you know i thought you were ignoring cause i might've done something to piss you off or something…”

“no, baby” they whispered. “it’s not you. like at all. it’s them. they… they’ve never accepted my full powers. the girl version anyway. to my parents, i’m their golden boy and nothing else. i came to god u and swore that i would never feel ashamed of myself and would never be forced to choose one gender like my parents desperately want.”

“that’s a lot to carry by yourself, jord,” you move their short black bob out of their face and tuck it behind their ear. “i’m here if you ever need to talk. about any of it.”

“i know,” they smiled softly.

“and for what it’s worth i like…all of you,” you confessed which made jordan put on their sexy grin that you fell for.

“is that right? and which parts of me do you like?” they asked switching to their male form and placing you on their lap.

“hmm now that i think about it, i actually can’t remember,” you stroked your chin jokingly.

“how about i make you remember?” they replied, capturing your lips in an over due kiss. you breathe them in as you run your hands through their short hair.

you pulled away still holding their face in your hands. “promise to tell me when things bother you, big or small okay? i don’t want you to shut me out.”

jordan nodded, whispering, “i promise,” before kissing you once more.

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

HONEY, I’M HOME ─── jackson rippner ✧♤

ೃ⁀➷ “You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.” — ‘Letters to Milena’, Franz Kafka

pairing. jackson rippner x assassin!reader

summary. jackson hires a prostitute the night before meeting his target. only thing is, you’re not a prostitute— you’re an assassin hired to kill him. but he catches your eye, and instead, you keep him for yourself.

warnings. swearing, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex, slight housewife kink, kidnapping, drugging, pretty toxic relationship lmao, somnophilia, dubcon, hate-sex kinda, guns, choking, stockholm syndrome, cervix fucking, jackson gets a taste of his own medicine basically😭, SMUT UNDER THE CUT! 

word count. 6.1k

a/n. OKAY i know i said it was going into the direction of dom!reader but i got possessed and now,,, now we have this hate sex filth🫡

i. 

When Jackson comes to, the very first thing his mind registers in your perfume. It’s sweet and vanilla-y and entirely intoxicating, sending his mind whirling back to prehistoric days, childhood days, a vague mother figure he’d long forgotten about pressing sugar cookie dough onto a metal pan. 

Instead, as Jackson’s eyes fluttered open and adjusted to the bright, warm lamp-light curling around him and the various furniture in the room, he sees you, sitting in front of him on the floor. 

Your knees are pulled up and tucked under your chin, and it seems you’ve fallen asleep, your face peaceful and serene as soft inhales and exhales of breath leave you. 

You look like a pure angel, dolled up in a silk lace dress and neat bows so pristinely Jackson swore he could see a halo resting above your soft locks, but he knows you’re someone who can kill — has killed.

Jackson had been staying in a motel, readying himself to meet the target he was stalking the next day — some politico's daughter, y’know, perfect blackmail material — when you’d knocked on his door, dressed in a skanky skintight dress and garter belt, promising some fun for a flimsy fifty. 

Prostitution was illegal in this state, but Jackson had some money and time to kill — plus, if he didn’t get something now he’d probably fuck his target, which wasn’t really encouraged considering he could get attached, all that bullshit job professionalism. He wouldn’t, obviously, but his higher-ups didn’t think the same.

So he agreed; you looked stupid enough, and with that nice pair on you, those sweet curves, you were bound to be a good fuck. And you were definitely enough for him to handle— handle killing, he meant. It’d be easy: get you a little tipsy ‘cause it was his “kink” or some shit like that, kill you when you’re coming, dispose of your body, and meet the target in the morning. 

But then you’d kissed him, hungry and desperate and rough, and totally, completely, slipping the pill tucked under your tongue down his throat. 

Jackson realized immediately, his hands darting to the gun he had tucked in his belt, but you punched him in the stomach and the jaw before he could even undo the safety. And then he’d done it: he’d swallowed the drug, and the effects were instantaneous, the connection between his thoughts and his limbs losing focus, body sluggish like he was wading through water.

So suddenly had the situation had gone from him hiring a prostitute to getting fucking drugged by one, and he felt his composure slipping, the outrage burning in his lungs. Jackson thought himself to be a logical, well-thought out man who planned things to the tee, and this was not fucking following his plan. 

“What did you - do t’ me?!” He spat, voice growing slurred, bent over and clutching his stomach. 

“Mm,” you considered telling him, pursing your lips and watching him sway back and forth, “just a little something to calm you down. But, honey, I think you better sit down… it's not a mild drug.” 

“Answer my fucking—“ Jackson started caustically, then felt that familiar pins and needles sensation appear in his arms, then spread to his legs, before finally falling to the floor. 

“See?” You cooed, standing above him. You watched him struggle against the drug for a moment, before grinning and pulling him up off the floor onto the bed. 

Jackson listlessly fought your touch, slowly thrashing and kicking at you; his limbs may have grown numb, but his inhibitions had not lowered whatsoever, nor his paranoia. Good paranoia, in this situation, just not so good that it kicked in before you shoved a paralytic down his throat. 

You rolled your eyes, sitting down beside him and pushing his head onto your lap, digging your elbow into his chest to make him stay in place. 

Jackson choked at the pressure, blinking rapidly. “Who th- the -- fuck are you?” 

“I’m an assassin, honey. I’m gonna kill you — or, y’know, I’m supposed to kill you.” You beamed at him, “but I can’t do that, now can I? That’d be a waste of such a pretty face.”

Jackson’s brows knitted exasperatedly, mouth contorting to speak, but nothing came out. In fact, his mouth hadn’t been moving at all— his face had grown numb, now blankly staring up at you. 

“There we go,” you said happily. “The drug’s all kicked in now, hasn't it? I’ll speak freely, ‘cause y’can’t answer me anymore, not even scream or cry.”

You sighed, your shoulders slumping like you were finally able to fucking relax, and began petting his hair before continuing. “You’re a naughty one, aren’t you? Stalking that politician’s daughter… were you gonna fuck her? Threaten her dad, have some fun, then kill them both?” 

Jackson’s breathing grew more furious, eyes widening— or, they would’ve, if he could move. This was about his job, about the target, not just some fucking freak accident and a crazy prostitute. 

You frowned, shaking your head. “You’ve gotta do more research on the people you blackmail, honey— Mr. Politican’ll do anything to keep his little princess safe. Even murder.”

You then got up, and Jackson watched you pull something out of your tights, unable to respond or protest or even fucking move, frozen still on the cheap motel mattress.

���But like I said, you’re too cute to die like that. I think I’ll keep you for myself.” You winked, before pricking him in the neck with the needle that was hidden in your tights. 

His breath hitched, but there was no use: black quickly curled into the edges of his vision, and one second passed, then another, then he was out. 

That brought him back to now, waking up with his arms handcuffed behind him and his legs tied roughly to a wooden chair. He rustled, pulling against the cuffs as quietly as possible, gaze still obsessively trained on your every micro-movement.

But it didn't matter: your eyes opened the moment you’d heard his breath catch and stutter, and you got up lightly, dreamily, like you were some figment of Jackson’s imagination rather than a psychopathic kidnapping assassin. 

“Morning, honey,” you whispered, getting up off the floor, rubbing your eyes and yawning. But he didn’t respond, still pulling at his restraints, eyes thinned and focussed. 

“Are you mad at me?” You whined with a frown, circling around his chair and playfully covering his eyes. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry. I’ll buy some cute lingerie, give you a little show… do you like lace? Or maybe leather?”

Jackson’s nostrils flared, growing irate and incredulous at your antics, and he snapped. “Do you really think you can keep me here? Make me play fucking house with you?” He shouted groggily, body still feeling the aftereffects of not one, but two, drugs. 

You blinked numbly, hand finding his face, and you pressed his cheeks together, making him look up at you. “I won’t make you play house with me, Jackson. But it's the only thing you can do. You’re dead.” 

Your tone had gone cold, using his real name instead of your pet-one, expression going blank and completely unfeeling at his words. Then, you fumbled for something on the wooden vanity beside you two before lifting it up to his face. 

It read: TERRORIST GROUP LEADER’S REMAINS FOUND IN RED-EYE FLIGHT WRECK.

Jackson’s lips parted, feelings riddled half in shock and half in utter fury, gaze shaky as it flitted back and forth between you and the newspaper you were holding up. “I’m fucking—“

“Alive, I know. That’s kinda the point,” you finished his sentence with a chuckle, shaking your head like any of this was a joking matter. “When a plane goes down and catches fire, burning everybody, they won’t individually check who's who, honey. If there’s a name on the seat, there’s someone in it, and they’re dead… you’re as good as dead.”

Jackson’s eyebrows were still knit, but he suddenly stared straight ahead, listening to you silently and trying to make sure you were still too focussed on explaining theatrically to realize he was about to dislocate his thumb. 

He could deal with the stool later — he just needed to get his arms free and escape. What with your grating voice and the fucking pronunciation of death you’d forced upon him, god, his fury was rising quickly, and he wanted nothing more right now than to fucking kill you. 

You finished your explanation, peering deeply into his bright blue eyes, and you were about to wrap your arms around his neck and press him comfortingly to your chest when he successfully freed himself, and his hands shot out from behind him to strangle you. 

His fingers curled around your neck extremely easily, tightening and contracting around the thing snugly. Jackson was seeing red, the anger accumulated from every little insane fucking thing you did to him bursting. 

You struggled against him, your mouth opening and closing pitifully, leaning down into his grip— until your lips tilted upwards, a devilishly cheshire smile digging into your cheeks like it was an expression God never intended you to make. 

Jackson only realized you’d taken his gun away from him when he felt the tip of the barrel kiss his temple, cold and clammy. He was still disoriented, and didn’t exactly comprehend all the facts ‘till they fucking punched him in the face. Or, in this case, threatened to shoot him point blank. 

“L’mme - l’mme go, h’ney,” you whispered raspily, your eyes stuttering in their socket as he pressed deeper. Simultaneously, completely on instinct, you pressed the gun further into his skin.

“You’re too fucking weak to fire that gun,” he growled, digging his thumbs into the neat notch in the middle of your neck, his fingernails scratching bloody marks into your sensitive skin.

But you frowned weakly, and then Jackson heard that all familiar click, making him blanch. The strength in his hands didn’t falter, however— it got angrier, more desperate, like you wouldn’t automatically shoot him if he just translated his wrath into his grip.

“I d’nt- w’nna k-kill you,” you shook your head a bit, but both your threats remained the same: his hands making you go lightheaded, go blue, and the gun in yours making him sweat, the image of you splattering his brain against the wall clear as day. 

Jackson felt your finger twitch, and he closed his eyes, grip going tense then faltering completely: if you shot him now, there was no point holding on. But you did the same— you thought he’d snap your neck right then and there, so you pulled away.

Just as quickly as you two had attacked one another, your resolves’ had crumbled, murderous intent clearing the room like someone had opened a window and let it all out. Silence filled it back up instead, a steady tension permeating with it, and it was fucking suffocating. 

“What do you - want from me, exactly?” Jackson questioned first, several long moments later, words slow and collected. He’d try to calm himself and hide his anger away for later, because he now knew that you meant for him to meet only two ends here: forever with you, or forever dead— and neither were ends he was intending to have.

To escape, crawl under your nose and perhaps kill you along the way, he’d need to know the rules— play your little game. This cat and mouse mess could be done in a flash, and he fucking knew you had a weakness. He could feel it in your touch, how you gripped him, the lonely warble in your insane words. 

Sure, you kidnapped him and were calling him honey, treating him like he was your plaything, but Jackson had always been good at reading people, even before he’d become an amalgamated mess of an assassin, terrorist and blackmailer: you needed someone in your life— be it a husband or a hostage.

You got down on one knee, looking up at him through your wet lashes, breathing still ragged. One of your hands took his own dislocated one, while the other fished through your silk dress pockets, pulling out a gold band ring identical to the one gleaming prettily on your left hand. 

You didn’t answer his question saying for you to marry me or for you to love me— both things Jackson would expect you to say, especially with your oddly profound obsession with him (despite the fact he was positive you’d only known him for a few weeks at most.) No, you’d smiled, a lovely duchenne one, rosy-cheeked like a fucking schoolgirl confessing to her crush, not an assassin who’d kidnapped him, and said, “For you to be mine.” 

Your hand curled around his dislocated thumb and quickly snapped it, cruel and rough but perfectly back in place, before you slipped the ring onto his finger shakily, and brought his hand up to your lips to press a kiss to his knuckles. 

“You’re mine,” you repeated in a whisper, sounding every bit like a warning rather than a celebration. 

ii.

After a few days of living with— or, more accurately, being held captive by you, Jackson thought he had you all figured out. It usually only took a few days for him and a target to become acquainted anyway; mutual acquaintance or not.

He found that the warmer he treated you, the more freedom he’d have. Like, after you slipped the ring on his finger, you undid the ropes tying his legs. A reward, you’d said, for accepting your… unity. 

But you still switched out the clinky metal cuffs for zip ties. “I can’t have you doing that nifty little thumb trick anymore, can I?” you explained. “But I still want you to walk around. Take a tour of the rest of your life, honey.”

Then, you told him you had to go to work — to which Jackson rolled his eyes, considering assassination wasn’t exactly what he’d call work, though, he would also have to call himself a hypocrite — and left. Jackson wasn’t shy about roaming about the house, especially to look for a fucking escape, but he was firstly confronted with the sheer size of the place you’d locked him in. 

Where he’d first waken up was the master bedroom, long and wide with a king poster bed and canopy, a pair of couples vanities side by side, two walk-in closets and one large ensuite. The rest of the house was the same, being two stories tall and terribly extensive: Jackson ran out of fingers on his hands to count how many rooms were in it. 

By the time he’d combed through the entire house — discovering a measly two possible escape routes in the process — it was dark outside, and you entered through a front door Jackson couldn’t find for the fucking life of him. 

It was appalling, firstly how spontaneous and carefree you were whilst simultaneously thinking of everything that could go wrong, and secondly, how up to par your skills were to his. He wasn’t one to gloat, but he knew just as well as his coworkers that he was a large step above the rest— and it seemed you were, too, the only equal he’d encountered in his line of work… and the only person who’d bested him. 

“Honey, I’m home!” You sing-songed in the hallway, poking your head into each and every room for Jackson’s familiar form. 

Jackson had settled back in the master bedroom, sitting on the very chair you’d untied him from that morning, and when you finally found him you cooed. “Aw, baby, you don’t hafta’ stay here all day.” You said, lifting his chin to look up at you.

Jackson grit his teeth, his temper suddenly getting the best of him, and he spat at you. But the effect didn't work nearly as well as intended: you didn’t even wince, merely blinking and bringing two fingers to your cheek and wiping the slick off. You pouted at him for a second, made your eyes real big and pitiful, before kissing him on the cheek… and shoving your spit-slicked fingers into his mouth, making him gag. 

It looked like you were enjoying his suffering, before pulling away a moment later. “Well, no matter,” you said, brushing his actions off and regaining your happy mood. “I know you weren’t really here all day, honey.” 

Jackson’s lips parted, eyes thinning suspiciously. “What the fuck are you—“

You suddenly pulled out your phone, showing camera angles from all throughout the house… and more startlingly, previous footage of him, scouring the house’s windows and poking through the various furniture and rooms earlier in the day. “You are quite the curious cat.”

“You have a camera?” He asked indignantly. Honestly, he should’ve expected it: it’s like, what do you get when you have a captive itching to escape and an obsessive, head-over-heels captor with plenty of money on her hands? 

“Several,” you preened, “so don’t bother escaping.”

Then, you hooked your arm into his and dragged him to one of the (many, many) dining rooms.

“Now, I’ve never exactly had a hostage before,” you offered, pushing him into one of your cushy walnut dining chairs, “so I just realized you haven’t eaten. God, I’m so sorry, honey, you must be starving.”

With that, you ducked into the large kitchen a room away, and then returned holding a steaming plate of something, setting the dish down in front of him. “It’s not exactly, y’know, fine dining,” you said, picking up the spoon hidden in the food and scooping up some peas, “but it’s home-cooked. Not my home cooking, obviously, it is -- was, a target’s. I had a plate earlier, don’t worry, it’s good.”

Jackson stared at you, mind spinning with the information you were nonchalantly throwing at him: you were feeding him, your hand holding the cutlery, his mouth around it like he was fucking six, and the person who had made this food was dead, having had their throat slit or something. 

But there was another thing in Jackson’s mind, a tiny, weak voice within him that told him to just shut the hell up and eat the damn food. His survival instinct, probably, but then it went on to think that you weren’t that bad, feeding him and keeping him safe from the police in this nice, grand house— and Jackson squished the voice. No fucking way in hell was he experiencing early stage stockholm syndrome. 

At his reluctance, you frowned, and forced the spoonful in his mouth. “Eat,” you scolded, and fed him till the whole plate was finished. 

He ate, of course, not because of the little bitch voice in his head, but because of the fact that he actually was really fucking hungry. The gesture seemed to warm your heart, for some fucked up reason, and you later sat in the livingroom with him and loosened his zipties. 

There was a brief moment, however, that Jackson felt even an iota of fear: when his hands were slightly free, he immediately reached to grab you— he was taller, stronger, and could certainly defeat you in mere moments. 

But your sneaky fingers tightened his restraints at the drop of a hat, your head butting his jaw so he fell back on the couch. “Try anything,” you warned, tone suddenly dark, “and I will break your fucking wrist.”

At his tentative, jaw slightly dropped, shaky nod, a cold sweat beaming down from his temple, you dissolved into a fit of laughter at his expression and undid his ties once more. This time, your hand held his in an intimate death grip, thumb curled sweetly around the wrist, that warning still ringing in his head.

He was learning how to play the game, though. His captor’s behavior. What you liked, what you didn’t. The extent of your mercy. 

Jackson cleared his throat, searching for a question that might make you open up. “…What’s your name, anyway?” Yes, he didn’t even know your fucking name, and he doubted that the tacky prostitute name you’d given him initially was your real one. 

You looked up at him, surprised he’d speak first, nonetheless to know more about you. So, you indulged, and told him your name, things you liked, didn’t like, your hobbies… all normal people stuff— y’know, first date stuff. 

“I keep forgetting you don’t know a thing about me,” you confessed, leaning your head on his stiff figure, “‘cause I’ve known you for a very long time.”

Jackson’s breath hitched. “How so?” he said, trying not to give away his eagerness; he was going through all the steps he did when first meeting a target, like being kind and sweet, respectful and attentive, really buttering them up and coaxing information from them, before going in for the kill. In Jackson’s current case, the “kill” was a kiss. 

It’d be something chaste, nervous, like he was unwittingly slipping into your trap and couldn’t help the warmth bubbling within him toward you, so you would fall into his; hook, line, and sinker… and maybe completely undo his zipties. He’d have to lay low for a few days, obviously, and build up that obsessive trust of yours, before going in for the literal kill. 

But then again, Jackson, with that delirious little ego of his, kept forgetting your skills were up to par with his, and you were the first and only person to ever fucking best him. 

You grinned thinly, knowing exact what he was doing, noticed the pattern his words went in, trying to shepherd the conversation to get the answers he wanted, and you pulled away from him. “I’ll tell you another day, honey. M’gonna go to bed,” you whispered sleepily, redoing his zipties. “Join me. I don’t like it when you tire yourself out.”

And so you left, and Jackson watched your hips sway, legs carrying you down the long hallway into the master bedroom. As soon as you were out of direct view, he sucked in a sharp breath, seething angrily. 

Fuck, he thought, the realization of his predicament settling within in him at last. He’d always been told this: if you didn’t believe you could escape your situation within the first day, you would never escape at all. He thought it a silly mantra, because he’d always devised an escape plan after thinking on it for a few long moments. 

Never did he think he’d find himself in a situation where that actually fucking applied, never did he think he’d meet his equal, and never in his entire, terrorizing existence, did he think he’d be helpless.

But Jackson had to persevere. Had to. He had not survived every terrible incident thrown at him in his tired lifetime, just to accept this. And so, he went to bed with you, the zipties rubbing his pale skin raw, and he watched the shadows on the roof shift with every hour that passed. 

He did not sleep, certainly not with you by his side, and though it looked like it, you did not either. It was the paranoia of two terribly similar people; gaze dancing in the dark and never finding each others, waiting for the moment one of you snapped and you had to attack or defend. 

The next day, and the next day after that, he went to bed beside you. Just like that, turned into weeks turned into months turned into seasons changing, and the zipties became cloth became your hand holding his. 

It was a culmination of feigned loving, fake vulnerability, and pretending he’d gotten Stockholm syndrome that got him to this point. Every “honey, i’m home,” or kiss or hug or pet-name you stabbed into him, he returned with a “welcome home, honey”, a peck on the cheek, a hand holding yours, his venomous tone switched like a light into something sweet, soft. 

One night, with his newly ziptie-free arms wrapping around you, your back nestling sweetly against his torso, he has to remind himself that it is not real. None of it was real: he was not your husband, you were not his wife, you did not love each other, you were not normal fucking people— you were the captive and the captor. 

Jackson had to remind himself he didn’t actually love you, because that night he thought: if you used him, he would use you. He would take you whenever he wanted, like how you used him. A man has needs, he thought, and being trapped in this house with you meant those needs could be met. 

It reminded him of when you first met— not the kidnapping part, of course, but of the kissing and the touching, your tits pressing softly against his chest, his hands following the swell of your ass. 

With a start, he realized he’d had some kind of unintentional celibacy enacted upon him: he couldn’t fuck anyone other than you, obviously, having been trapped in that house, but he never entertained the idea of fucking you because he hated you. You don’t fuck the bitch you’re planning to kill any day now. 

But your warm body against his awoke something in him, his forced celibacy unable to survive against the pure lust he felt filling him now. You were beautiful, undeniably, with pliant thighs and delicate curves he could see himself getting between animalistically, roughly, a kind of morbid sexual revenge against your captivity of him. It helped entirely that this was the most vulnerable he’d seen you, completely without any weapons, curled warmly into his side. 

After studying your breathing for a few seconds, ensuring you were still asleep, Jackson carefully slipped away from you to kneel in front of you in the middle of the bed. He admired your night getup: those silk dresses you adored to wear at home, and absolutely no underwear. 

He then pried your soft thighs open slightly, dipping his head between them and losing himself in the sweet scent of your cunt, before chancing a stripe up to your clit. He flattened his tongue, wanting to collect your taste on it completely, and you merely sighed, turning over slightly and widening your legs in your sleep, like you somehow knew what he was doing and wanted it. 

He pressed his mouth up to your cunt fully now, his nose hitting your mound as he devoured you, tongue filling every crevice and fold you had like he was starving. Your small whimpers and breathy sighs grew louder now, more frequent, and then Jackson suddenly pulled away, satisfied with how he readied your hole.  

Jackson shimmed himself out of his boxer shorts, a pair with silly little hearts he’d never seriously buy for himself— you bought them, as soon as you’d captured him, clearly having fun with the utter control you could display on him, down to his fucking undergarments. 

He shook himself slightly, refocussing on the matter at hand: fucking into your glistening cunt. There was something oddly empowering about doing this to you when you couldn’t protest, regaining some control over his own fucking life by terrorizing yours. 

But he wasn’t sure you’d fucking care anyway: he knew you liked to peek around the corner when he was showering, “accidentally” walking in when he was in the middle of changing, not-so subtly bending down and pressing your ass to his crotch. 

He sighed slightly, rubbing his hand up and down on his hard length in the dark, before lining it up with your entrance. Jackson muffled the groan that curdled in his throat with his large hand, breathing shakily and finally pushing past your slick folds. You were soaking, and he didn’t know if it was because of his previous foreplay or if you were just naturally like this, all horny because he slept beside you at night. He wouldn’t put it past you if that was the case: your obsession with him was clear in every single way. 

You made a noise in your sleep, and Jackson froze, hands instinctively coming up to press lightly against your throat — an unconscious thing on his part, formed when his hands had been zip tied and the only thing he could do was choke you, unable to grip any weapon properly. But you didn’t wake up; your face merely screwed together, before smoothing out and returning to blissful unconsciousness. 

Jackson let out a sigh of pleasure and relief, your walls clenching around his pulsing cock. He gripped the sheets beside your head and began thrusting in and out of you: at first gently, afraid to wake you up, but as the minutes dripped past, Jackson grew desperate, fucking into your cunt roughly. He wanted to abuse your tight little pussy, stretch you wide open and take you for everything you had. 

“Fuck,” he grunted under his breath, snapping his hips harder against yours, “Fuck!” 

His exclamation of sexual satisfaction startled you awake, but he didn’t notice how your eyes moved behind your eyelids, too focussed on pounding his rock-hard cock into you. For all the insanity and behavioral issues God gave you, he certainly made up for it in the way he crafted your cunt: extremely warm and easily wet, a sticky hole that sucked him in but was still cramped, like it was begging him to force your walls open. 

“Honey?” you murmured foggily, wrapping your arms around his neck. You were about to speak again, when Jackson suddenly found your g-spot, and rammed continually into it, making a filthy mewl leave your lips. 

“Fuck, you woke up?” Jackson cursed, looking at you for the first time. His thrusts were unrelenting, though, now not caring if you’d woken up and just wanting to feel your hole squeeze around him again. 

“Jackson, I was - sleeping,” you squeaked out, hands moving to his back and digging your nails into the skin.

“That’s kinda the point,” Jackson mocked, tone sarcastic and peeved like you were interrupting him. “And don’t fucking fight it,” he warned angrily, hand leaving the mattress and roughly squeezing one of your tits through the fabric of your nightdress, “‘cause I’m not stopping ‘till I come.”

You pouted fake-sadly at his words, but your back arching gave you away, keening when he kneaded your tit too meanly and made a shock of pain run up your body. “Feels so good,” you grinned sweatily, but he just rolled his eyes.

“Shut up,” he sighed, throwing his head back, “didn’t fucking ask what you thought.” 

He pushed your face to the side so he was looking at your jaw, more content with treating you like just some hole, but you didn’t care: he, your darling, was fucking you. He wanted you so bad he fucked you when you weren’t even awake. God, you could’ve kissed him right then and there, but he probably would’ve hit you. (Not that you would mind… but you wanted your honey to take control, have it his way for a bit.)

Jackson rutted into you fast and selfish, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the violent way he fucked you: your sick pleasure came at the expense of your weeping cunt, which was trembling in the stinging pain he was inflicting, cockhead stretching you wide. 

Then, Jackson’s hands slid down to your hips, so he could shove his cock deeper into your cunt, pressing his weight so heavily onto your chest you could barely breathe. He groaned; you were clearly affected by the action, bearing down on his cock suddenly, and he reveled in the ecstacy. 

He fucked you slightly and slower, and you only realized what he’d been doing when he leaned down to get a better angle, bullying the head of his cock against your cervix: he was trying to fuck into you further, push his dick so close, so snug against your womb that there was no doubt in hell his load would impregnate you. His actions were dictated not by any sense of reason, but by a crude, carnal desire, wanting nothing more but to make you scream. 

And you did scream alright, a breathy, brutal scream; a mix of whimpering pain at the way his head pushed against you, and of shameful, drooling pleasure, his delicious length making you feel fucking bloated, you were so full.

One of Jackson’s hands reached up to your head to pull your hair, making you whine at the pain of the tug, and he growled out a string of curse words, before thrusting his cock so angrily it was like a punishment, surely bruising your cervix, and releasing his thick load deep inside. His come flooded your cunt, pumping you full of his salty cream, fucking you still. 

Jackson then panted raggedly, feeling your gummy walls tense at the pain of him pulling out, flopping down beside you. “Does it hurt?” he asked you absently, pulling his boxer shorts back up to his hips. 

You bit your lip as you clenched your thighs together, whining slightly at the pain blooming deep within your abused cunt, and at the loss of pleasure— you hadn’t come after all, Jackson being entirely selfish in his fucking. “Uh-huh,” you murmured weakly, feeling the strength in your body leave you completely. “You’re a mean one, honey.”

“Good,” Jackson said, chuckling darkly. It was the first laugh you’d heard rumble out of him the entire time you’d held him captive, and you drank it in: it was pleasant and breezy, like cold water on a hot day. It was certainly out of place, such a gleeful laugh after savagely fucking you, but you welcomed it anyway. 

Jackson suddenly grabbed you by the waist, pulling you flush to his chest. “M’gonna use your hole whenever I want, and you’re gonna take my cock no matter what, ‘till you’re begging me to stop,” he growled in your ear, making goosebumps break out on your clammy skin. “Least you can do for fuckin’ kidnapping me, you psychotic bitch.”

“Oh,” you purred, batting your lashes up at him, “it’d be my pleasure to be your fucktoy.”

Jackson grinned, at you, for you, and you thought to yourself that kidnapping him was the best thing you ever fucking did. 

iii.

Somewhere, muddled between you kidnapping him, the two of you almost killing eachother, and him fucking you dumb, Jackson caved, and he started to believe he actually loved you. His mind didn’t have any qualms accepting that you were his new life— living in your house, only knowing you, and only ever talking to you. 

Maybe it was stockholm syndrome, or those delicious fantasies you’d whisper in his ear at night (“Y’know, honey, it’s really you who should be saying you’re home. What do you think, huh? You coming home from a long day of work to me, in my panties and an apron, no bra and a sweet, home-cooked meal on the table. Dessert’ll be, of course, me,”) or maybe it was just you.

You, despite your terrible job and seriously obvious insanity, being the epitome of fuckable: horny when he was, a talented, needy mouth, able to take anything he gave you to while always going back to being tight as fuck, and intensely eager to have him.

You, who controlled his life, and he, who controlled you. The way you treated each other was probably illegal somewhere, but in that house not even the fucking law mattered. (You still remember when Jackson got his gun back, and he teased your clit with the cold tip till you creamed down the barrel… a terribly memorable story that always made you groan.)

Jackson was extremely well aware that there was something strange about your relationship, and not just the fact it occurred in the strangest way possible, but that he was essentially giving up to you— losing his inhibitions, at least against you. Something about… putting his well being in your hands. His needs. His wants. His life. Spending the rest of his life with you; in this house, accepting life and no escape. 

But still, for a man like Jackson, who had long since accepted that he wasn’t cut out for a life of normalcy, a life of love, this certainly wasn’t a bad way of living. He had a house nicer than anything he’d ever lived in, didn’t have to work, could do whatever he wanted all day, and got to pound his cock into your perfect little pussy every single night. 

[moshpitgamma]

😚Zoom Zoom Mama G has posted again!!!

HOPE YALL ENJOY THIS ONE AND I HOPE ITS NOT TO BAD….(You’re older than branch but younger than Floyd btw😌)

Family Reunion||Brozone x Sister Reader

Warning:Angst and Mild Cursing

Word Count:1.3k

Other:It’s kinda proof ridden😝✌️

====================

You knew JD wasn’t always the best brother, but you didn’t expect for it to go like this…

“It’s called BRO-ZONE meaning BROS not GALS” JD said angrily at the h/c haired troll. “So youre saying just because I'm a girl I can’t be in the band. I’m basically the damn melody John.” you loudly yelled at him clearly pissed at how your brother didn’t want you to ruin brozone. “It has to be perfect and the name is perfect for bros. MAYBE IF YOU WERE PERFECT IT COULD WORK, BUT YOU’RE JUST A FUCKING MISTAKE FOR THE BAND” he yelled at y/n tired of her shit. He didn’t mean to totally call her a mistake, but it was too late. She already ran to her room in the shared pod, crying her eyes out and muttering small complaints. All the brothers stood with their mouths agape from witnessing the scene. “John what the hell,” Bruce said, holding the blue decorated egg with blue hair sticking out. “You just called her a damn mistake” “Maybe she is and it would be best if she left….The band is almost there and she’ll just get in the way.” John said it as if he was hoping y/n would leave to save the band for the family harmony. After John said that all the brothers left the area with sour and disapproving faces. Ignoring him till later that night.

It was now 2:34am and fast paced footsteps were heard around the pod waking John up from his humble sleep. He groggily dragged himself out the bed and headed towards the noise and found his three brothers and branch’s egg sitting in the living area. “What’s going on and why are you guys up so early.” John said, kinda annoyed from losing his beauty sleep. “Y/n left” Clay said barely above a whisper. “Huh,” John asked again, not being able to hear Clay. “Y/N FUCKING LEFT” Clay bursted as his tears started pooling his eyes. “You drove our sister away because of your stupid and glorious dream. Now she’s out in the wilderness by herself and we don’t know if she’s alive or dead.” John felt his whole body freeze and run cold. Did he fuck up or was it just you overacting? Before Bruce could add in to the statement, John wasted no time in leaving to go put on his jacket and shoes ready to go find y/n. He left out the door after he finished getting dressed, without a word to his brothers.

________________

{Y/n’s POV}

I woke up in a cold sweat, absolutely drenched from the wrenched nightmare of your older brother. My mind has been messed up recently ever since my eventful trip to mount ragous.

FLASHBACK

“It’s some kind of love”

A voice rang through the area. It was so soft, but with a familiar melody.

“It’s some kind of fire”

It was my part? But sung by someone different. An angelic voice.

“I’m already up, but you lift me higher”

But that’s when it hit you..it was your brothers with a now full grown relationship saving Floyd.

TIME SKIP DONE

{2nd POV}

After your brothers and those two mystery girls brought Floyd back, you couldn’t help ,but feel nothing but relief and a little wave of nervousness. All five of your brothers were standing right there together but the time just didn’t feel right for you. You wanted to go hug and celebrate with them, but you just felt disappointed and angry at them for not trying to find you. Without a word you started walking away, but caught what now sounds like a grown man spruce saying “How about we all celebrate at Vacay island this weekend.” You then had an idea set up perfectly for this Family Reunion.

{Y/N POV}

I sighed heavily as I parked my motor beetle in front of this big resort looking restaurant. “I hope they aren’t too mad to see me” I told myself, trying to hype myself up from all the nerves. As I step foot into the resort I see this tall yellowish woman at the bar, so I head over to ask her where the boys may be. “Umm excuse me…can you help me” I asked her in my nice bright tone. “Of course hun! What can I help you with and by the way you can call me Brandi” she exclaimed, clearly being an extroverted person. “Well you see I’m here looking for my brothers and i’m kinda here to reunite with them after basically being away for 22+ years” I say not trying to sound crazy or out of the ordinary. “Ok well what are their names?”Brandi asked me as she took out a notepad ready to write them down, assuming that it was more than one. “Well to start off it’s John Dory for the first one and Bru-” “Is that them?” she pointed to a corner before quickly apologizing for cutting me off. I was literally stunned when I saw all of them bonding and getting along like we were little kids again. I guess Brandi picked up on my distressed and nervous face that she offered and said” If it makes you any better I can go with you for emotional support” She says tucking a burgundy loc behind her head. “I would like that very much”I say releasing some pent up air that I didn’t know I had.

As Me and Brandi walked to the corner it felt like time was slowing down and my breaths were getting shorter by the second. I was trying to calm myself down in my mind, but I was brought out by Brandi speaking. “Um hi y'all sorry to interrupt, but you guys had a little surprise that decided to drop in today.” As on cue I stepped from behind Brandi with nothing but hope and fear in my chest.

“Who’s that?” Bruce said as he looked at the familiar troll. “If you wanted an autograph you could’ve asked us” John laughed as he pulled out a notepad and passed it around to each of the brothers to sign. “Are you guys kidding me?” I exclaimed, wondering if they were joking or not. Every single last one of them looked at you with a dumbfounded expression. “After leaving, you guys clearly forgot me” I said with tears in my eyes as i couldn't believe that they forgot me. “It’s me Y/n…. but I guess you guys didn’t care” I bitterly laugh as I see the visible expression changes on them except Branch. Guess John got what the fuck he wanted” I said getting ready to leave, but felt a hand gently catch mines, stopping me from leaving in the progress. Before I could turn around, I was pulled into a hug by a pink and white haired troll. “We could never forget you n/n” Floyd said genuinely. Slowly one by one the others hugged me except JD and branch.

Me and JD stared at each other as if we were to look away, we would die. Jd cleared his throat before saying “Umm are you good” while giving you that charming smirk. If looks could kill, JD would be dead right now. “That’s all? No sorry or are you ok sis.” I say starting to get angry. “Just be glad I'm happy to see you.” “Or what Jd” I said, letting a few tears fall. “You wanna know how tired I am from fighting with you. I bet Branch didn't even know he had a sister till now.” I advertise my hand to point at a shocked Branch. “But when I want my older brother to show me affection and let me be apart of the group it’s a fucking problem.” I say getting tired of his mess. “I don’t care no more JD. I will really walk out of this resort and leave again if that’s what you want.”I said, grabbing my helmet from the nicely made table. When Jd just stared at me I knew he meant it. So therefore without any words I got out of there and left. But before I did I said….

“So much for a Family Reunion….Hope we meet again, but on better conditions.”

IF YOU WANT A PT.2 WITH FLUFF LMKKKKKK!!!!!

[hotwritergf]

eddie or steve with alternative!reader, like face piercings, black makeup, allat stuff

and nsfw or not but they would just be so smitten and follow them around and nod dumbly to whatever reader says bcus theyre so pretty and scary looking

<33

- 🦴

Belly button piercings. Steddie x female reader. Smut. Blurb.

I’m so sorry this is basically not what you asked for but I tried!! Hope this is okay! I really got in ‘the zone’ and wrote this all in one lmao!

You first noticed them when you were working, it was a Thursday afternoon, and you were waiting for your next appointment to arrive. Your client wanted a belly button piercing, something you’d done a million times in your job as a body piercer, it was second nature to you now. Especially since you have so many metal adjustments to yourself too, several facial piercings that happen to catch people’s eyes. You get complimented on your vertical labret often, but your favourite was the piercing that only you were allowed to see at the moment, single life really was keeping you from excitement.

They stood shyly in the doorway, the dark haired boy seemingly more confident than the brunette. He stood a little taller, had some ear piercings himself and as he took off his jacket, handing it to the other guy, you noticed his tattoos. You had a few of your own, some of which you’d actually given yourself. The long haired guy fiddled with his rings, he basically had one on each finger, the skull one catching your eye the most. It was cool, you make a mental note to see if you can find one of those for yourself.

The more metal looking of the men spoke, “Hi. I’m Eddie. I’m here for my piercing?” He had a great voice, he definitely was confident like you had expected. You offer him a friendly smile and show him out back to your studio after taking his payment, giving him his consent form and running him through the aftercare. “Can my boyfriend come too?” He questioned shyly, holding the brunette man’s hand behind his back. You nod and laugh, assuming he can’t be afraid of needles if he’s got so many tattoos. “Follow me, both of you are welcome, there’s always room for an emotional support person. Even if you are a pretty metal head or a…” You stood still and looked him up and down. “Frat boy?” You laugh, hoping to get the same reaction from them, it always helped to make jokes to ease your clients nerves.

In the kindest possible way they looked stupid, like they’d seen a ghost. Eddie’s jaw had dropped, he’s practically drooling at the compliment and his boyfriend? His cheeks are bright red. He nods dumbly, like every single thought in his pretty head had been knocked out by your comment.

“I don’t need!- whatever. This is Steve.” Eddie shakes his head and chuckles at your joke. “Thank you for letting me watch, I kinda wanted to see how you do this whole piercing thing, I’m tempted to get one myself.” Steve spoke finally, his voice a lot softer than Eddie’s. His face was flushed, embarrassed by his own words.

You mark up Eddie’s belly button, making sure the lining you drew was straight and offer him a look in the mirror. As he stands upright, staring at the pen marks on his midriff you notice them for the second time that day. But it wasn’t just them, it was how they looked at you. Their eyes followed you, ever since they stood hunched over in the doorway of the waiting room. Their eyes never left you, dancing around your face and more recently, your pants.

You’d been ogled over before, sort of part and parcel of the job. Men had come into your studio just to ask you if you had any “naughty” piercings or assume you must be freaky in bed because you’re tatted and pierced. But you didn’t mind the way they were looking at you. Almost like you were an enigma, a paradox.

“Stevie here’s acting scared but don’t let him fool you, he likes a bit of pain.” Eddie giggles over his own words whilst Steve shoots him a look, giving him daggers. You noticed the way Steve blushed again, it’s adorable really. His cheeks flushed at everything. “Is that so? Well the belly button piercing is just a little pinch really, the clamp is the worst part. Just breathe through it and it’s over. I promise, I’ll be gentle. To you that is, might have to be a little more rough with this one huh? He seems insistent on embarrassing you doesn’t he, sweetheart?” You motion to Eddie, wiggling the capped needle around in your fingers. Steve threw his head back in laughter, squeezing Eddie’s hand in his own, “t-thanks.” He stutters through his words, you could definitely see this guy being a submissive. His entire nature is submissive. Your mind escapes you as you imagine what he’d look like tied to your bed. Would Eddie join you in dominating Steve or would you have them both at your mercy?

That was a hell of a way to break the ice, finding out your client’s boyfriend is a pain slut definitely was a new one. Fantasising about your clients even more so, but they are so endearing.

“Okay you ready?” You glance up at Eddie, he nods and you position your needle. “And 3, 2, 1, aaaand done.” You feed the needle through his belly button, you remove the needle and leave the plastic tube inside the freshly pierced hole. “And here’s the stingy part.” You mutter as you thread his chosen jewellery through the plastic tube of the needle and twists the ball on top, wiping and sterilising his belly button. “How was it?” Steve questioned, still looking at Eddie through his fingers across his eyes. “Completely fine babe, princess here has magic fingers.” He shoots you a smirk in an attempt to fluster you back for earlier.

“Sure do. Are you up next Steve? I have time to slot you in now, I’ve got a free hour.” Inquiring as clean up your work space once more. “N-no. Maybe next time.” He responds with the weakest smile you’ve ever seen. He’s scared, if any of the goosebumps on his skin suggest, that’s understandable. Poor thing, he’s a completely blank canvas and a piercing is a pretty big commitment to make. Eddie smiles, whispering something in-audible to Steve which of course left him with a flushed face again.

You squat down to your drawers to reach a form, and as you bend over you hear a groan. Well more of a grunt, you smirk whilst your back is turned. These boys were too cute. Wondering which of them you could make yours first, maybe take the easy frightened little lamb and watch his protector follow. What sounds would they make? You could break down the act that Eddie puts up and make him melt in your hands? Was the act he puts up all a ploy, was Steve the top? So many questions run through your mind, but you knew something for certain. This was precious. These boys were precious. Behind you, you hear some giggling. Still searching for the feedback form you have to leave it up to your imagination, but it ate at you. What were they giggling about? You hadn’t imagined the handcuffs attached to Eddie’s belt, maybe he was teasing him by showing Steve what he’d be tied with that night? Maybe they’d pointed at you pretty ass bend over so nicely on display for them and daydreamed about having you in those cuffs?

You twist your face over your shoulder to face them as you pick up the form, your elbows squeezing together ‘accidentally’. Steve shys away from looking but you can tell he wants to, it was obvious. His eyes darted around the room, from the mirror across from you, and back to your chest. Whereas Eddie? His jaw was on the floor, his vision transfixed on your chest.

“Okay, well in that case when you’re ready I need you, Eddie to fill in this form about how your experience was here today. We give them to all our clients.”

You commanded, handing him the form and a pen, watching as he filled it out pretty quickly. It was cute, through the whole time you’d spent together, Steve hadn’t let go of Eddie’s hand. Following him around like a lost dog, but he still couldn’t stop his eyes from moving over you. Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand again and he looks down at his lap. Oh. Was it the pain of the piercing or your body that made that tent in his pants appear? Steve bites his lip and reaches out to palm his hand over Eddie’s bulge. He squirms and swats at his boyfriend’s hands. Oh god could they get any cuter, flustered and bratty? The things you could do.

He shuffles his jacket across his waist, hoping you hadn’t seen it. Handing you the form back, you walk them both back into the waiting room. You sign the form to prove you had administered the piercing, handing it back to Eddie to take his copy home for safe keeping. Chewing on your pen lid, you giggle as the leave your studio. You wonder how long it will be until they read the note you left them on the paper.

“Let me know if you want that piercing Stevie, I think you’d both suit little matching belly bars. The cutest boys. If I’ve read this wrong ignore me and I apologise but if I haven’t? Call me. *phone number*.”

Well you’ve had worse days at work.

[paradiseismine]

The First Time - Mike Wheeler x reader

Pairing: Mike Wheeler (Stranger Things) x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, soft smut, loss of virginity. also this is kinda long, but it needed to be, so I’m not sorry lol

Summary: Mike and reader are in love and have their first time together. (My girls who had awful first times, this one goes out to you!)

Love note from Nina: I haven’t seen any good first time fics for Mikey, which is ultimately a crime, so I wrote this one. I tried to make it softer and a bit more realistic, idk. Hope you like it! 💕

You and Mike had been dating for a few months now - ever since you moved to Hawkins. You had gotten close to Max and Eleven, at first, as you and the girls were in the same Gym class; but pretty soon, you won over the entire party. That’s something Mike loved about you: your easygoing personality, how easily you’d befriend basically everyone, how considerate and kind you always were.

He loved you, it was obvious. What was a bit less obvious, on the other hand, was how much he desired you, how much he craved your body on his, to feel your soft skin in his hands, to hear the faint moans you’d sometimes let out when he kissed the right spot on your neck.

All of this lead to this Saturday: you and Mike were alone at his place, up in his room, with the door locked and the lights slightly dimmed. He sat down on the bed and you climbed onto his lap, one leg to each side of his waist, eager for a good make out session - maybe even more than that.

The way Mike groped your breasts over your shirt was making you impossibly wet, and the way you straddled and ground on his lap was making him impossibly hard. The kisses were heated, sloppy, hands grabbing and groping into anything they could. It seemed pretty eminent that you two would end up, you know… Doing it.

- I’ve never - Mike started, panting. You could tell he was a bit embarrassed as he tried to look into your eyes, but quickly looked down. - You know, I’ve never done this with anyone… Before.

You smiled sweetly, lowering your head, also a bit embarrassed.

- Can I tell you a secret? - you went for his ear to whisper as he nodded. - Me neither. It’s my first time as well.

- Really? - Mike’s eyes widened in confusion. You were so goddamn pretty, you were a cheerleader, for heaven’s sake. How come you were still a virgin at 18?

- I just… I was kind of saving myself - you chuckled as you toyed with the collar of his Hellfire T-shirt. - For someone special, you know?

- A-and am I special enough? I mean, for you? - he asked, insecure.

- Mike - you put your hand gently on his cheek, capturing his gaze. - You’re the love of my life. Baby, you’re the one.

You could tell Mike had gotten a bit teary eyed as he leaned in to kiss you. It was a slow, delicate kiss, full of love and tenderness. You loved him so much, you had never fallen for anyone like you fell for that sweet nerdy boy.

You gently wiped a tear off his cheek, as you held his face gently to yours, deepening the kiss. His heart was beating like a drum as he reached for the hem of your T-shirt, feeling the soft skin of your waist underneath.

- Can-can I take this off, love? - he asked, nearly whispering.

You nodded, your eyes fluttering closed to feel his touch. Mike’s hands were always impossibly warm, so inviting. He roamed them agonizingly slowly up your sides, until you raised your arms to help him get the T-shirt up and off your body.

As the fabric finally fell on the floor, you could see that his eyes were low, enchanted by the sight of your chest, the sharp curve of your waist, your dainty collar bones, all of you. His red swollen lips, slightly parted, seemed to move nearly imperceptibly as his fingers touched your skin. It was like he couldn’t even believe you were real.

You put your hands on his hips slowly, also going for the hem of his T-shirt, lifting it up as your fingers felt his hot skin underneath. Once you both had exposed your upper bodies, you couldn’t resist to pull him closer and touch your chest to his.

Mike pulled air in between his teeth discreetly, getting shivers down his spine as you lightly grazed your nails against his back, embracing him.

His breathing was faintly audible as he embraced your waist, nuzzling your hair to inhale your sweet scent. You moaned softly as his lips nipped on your neck, eyes rolling in pleasure.

His hands roamed up and reached the clasp on your bra, struggling to open it, shaking a little with nervousness. You hugged him tighter, kissing his neck as well, trying to reassure him that it was ok, that you wanted him more than anything.

As he managed to take off your bra and discarded it, on the floor, your nipples grazed against his chest, your whole skin shivering at his own, so warm.

Mike cupped your breasts gently with his hands, trying not to scare you off, but mesmerized by how perfect your body was. He lowered his kisses from your neck to your chest, his lips softly touching your skin as he looked up into your eyes. That raw, desiring look made you bite your lip, moaning even more.

He kept his gaze on yours as he took your nipple in between his lips, suckling delighted at how soft your skin felt in his mouth. He did the same to the other one, his eyes closing for a moment and returning to meet yours. You held the back of his hair while he suckled, very discreetly pushing his head into your body, as if pleading for him to continue.

He had one hand attached to the breast he was suckling, and the other one on your waist, slipping slowly into the hem of your low rise jeans. As his lips let go of your now reddish and perky bud, he put both his hands to your hips, gesturing for you to stand up so he could unzip your pants.

You stood up and he soon followed, pulling your hips closer for another kiss, as his hands unzipped and lowered your jeans, that soon pooled at your feet. You did the same to him, his erection so evident during the whole process. Your mouth watered at the thought of taking his length in between your lips, pleasuring him. You wanted to pleasure him so bad, you wanted him to come undone under your touch, you wanted to drive him crazy.

Mike’s underwear was white and a bit transparent at this point, as his tip had oozed some precum - that made you lick your lips.

Your smooth fingers reached for his underwear’s waistband, as you shot your eyes at him for a moment, making sure you had his consent before slowly sliding the fabric off his body. His hard length sprung free in front of you for the first time, and you tried to suppress a small surprised sigh, to no success.

With both hands, you touched Mike’s throbbing shaft, gently pumping him even harder than he already was. He let out a soft moan, looking at your hands touching him.

- Can I… Can I put it, you know, in my mouth? - you asked, a bit embarrassed.

- Sure, love - he responded, lustful.

Your lips engulfed Mike’s tip, being extremely careful to avoid any teeth contact. You licked over its opening as it kept releasing more fluid. It was so good to finally taste him. Fitting his tip inside your mouth, you tried to take him deeper and understand how much further you could take. Mike, on the other hand, had other concerns in mind.

- Babe - he gently touched your face, gesturing for you to stop.

- Is everything ok? - you asked, worried. - Did I do anything wrong?

- You did nothing wrong, my love - he reassured you, his hand caressing your cheek. - It’s just that… I’m afraid I won’t last very long, you know? Being our first time and everything…

- It’s ok, we’ll do only what we both want, right? - you kissed him, trying to soothe his nerves.

The kiss got deeper and deeper, hands now able to explore practically all of both bodies - except for a small area around your hips. Mike took the sides of the fabric in his fingers, muttering something against your lips. You only moaned in return.

He slid your panties down your legs slowly, savoring the moment. You were now completely naked in front of him for the first time, and your body was just… Wow. You were so beautiful, he couldn’t believe you were his, and he was yours, and you’d now take each other’s virginity.

He motioned for you to lie down on his bed, and lied next to you, guiding your face for another round of kisses - up until his right hand started going south. He touched your breasts at first, thumbing your nipples until they perked up. He caressed your tummy and slowly made his way further down.

Mike’s finger touched your entrance very gently, feeling your warm wetness coat his fingertips. You shivered under his touch, thighs spreading instinctively, wanting more. His index finger slowly entered your tiny hole, and you could hear Mike faintly gasp, ‘cause you were so tight, only one of his fingers already seemed to fill you up completely.

- Is-is this ok? - he asked, speaking very softly. He didn’t want to hurt you.

- Yes, love - you moaned, nodding as your face scrunched up in pleasure.

Mike’s finger pumped in and out of your tiny hole, as he was watching it get wetter and wetter, splashy noises like music to his ears. Finally, he quit his teasing and touched your clit, tracing soothing delicate circles into your core, as you were aching with desire.

Your mouth was agape, a trail of moans escaping your lips as your body squirmed and quivered under his touch. He was nearly hovering over you, as if not to miss any breath, any contortion of your beautiful face.

His fingers kept massaging your clit in a delicious motion, your tiny hole underneath clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled. Your arousal trickled down your folds and puddled on the bedsheets, as proof of that encounter.

Your breath quickened and your chest heaved, relief building rapidly at the pit of your stomach, and as you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, you came. Your orgasm ripped through your body as an earthquake to your thighs, a few louder moans echoing through the bedroom. It was like being a piece of paper and slowly falling to the ground, your head feeling so light in such a delicious sensation.

Mike couldn’t help but softly moan to himself at the sight of you. Now completely drenched in arousal and much more relaxed, it would be undeniably easier to put his length to your body without causing you much discomfort.

- You’re soaking wet… Please, make love to me, y/n - he whispered, his eyes rolling, his head dizzy with desire.

- I will, Mikey - you responded, capturing his lips once again, melting into his touch. - I’m yours, love.

He reached for a small silver wrapper in the drawer of his bedside table, quickly opening it with his fingertips and putting on the condom. Mike got on top of you, kissing your lips once again, delighting your body, your warmth, all of you. He aligned himself with your entrance, slowly gathering your lubrication on his tip before trying to enter you.

You searched for his eyes, nodding as you sighed in desire. Mike felt your hymen resisting his length, but gently pushed through it, eyes on you the entire time. You didn’t seem to be in pain - he only noticed your eyes were fluttering and your bottom lip was visibly bitten down.

He sank himself inside you very slowly, inch by inch, carefully studying each micro-expression on your face as he did. Your breathing seemed deep and paused, as if you were trying to remain calm. His heart was nearly beating out of his chest, and he wanted to be absolutely sure that you were well and feeling good.

- Are you ok, princess? - he softly asked, caressing your cheek. - Am I hurting you?

- It’s ok, love - you reassured him. - It just takes some adjusting.

You did feel some pressure, the sensation so new, your stomach so full of butterflies. But it didn’t hurt: Mike’s loving eyes were soothing any discomfort you could have been feeling, and that was all that mattered.

Growing accustomed to it, you felt more confident and involuntarily clenched around his length; and he started moving slowly, thrusting into you very gently, while his attention kept focused on your face. As you seemed fine, moaning very softly to show him you enjoyed those new sensations, he could finally focus on what he was feeling himself: you were so wet, so tight, the whole sight of your naked body so arousing.

He thrusted a bit more firmly now, but you could still sense some worry in his eyes.

- Don’t hold back - you whispered into his ear. - I love you, and I want you to feel all the pleasure you can, too.

His eyes met yours as you pulled him for another passionate kiss, your legs now around his waist, hugging his body. As he thrusted more and more, you took his earlobe in your teeth, nibbling devilishly on it, moaning sweet nothings into his ear. Not being able to contain himself anymore, Mike let out a few whimpers and spilled onto the condom, relieved.

He dropped his body’s weight onto yours for a moment, panting, gently hugging your sides. You kissed him on the lips one last time, smiling as you saw his damp bangs dangling from his forehead. Ugh, you loved Mike Wheeler. He quickly disposed of the condom in his room’s bin, and lied back in bed with you.

- I’m so sorry I couldn’t last longer, love - Mike kissed your temple, his eyebrows furrowed. - It’s just that… All of this was just so new to me, that I-

- You were perfect, Mikey - you whispered, kissing all over his face. - I’m so glad I had my first time with you. We’ll have plenty of time to get more comfortable with our intimacy, don’t worry.

- This was only the first step, right?

- Exactly - you smiled as he snuggled up to you.

- I love you, y/n - he said, holding you tight in his arms.

- I love you too, Mikey.

You cuddled together for another couple of hours, naked, enjoying each other’s warmth and touch. It all felt so right.

As the sun was setting, he took you home, and at your doorstep, you said your I love you’s and goodbyes now holding even more weight and complexity to them. You loved him so bad it nearly hurt.

The next day, the doorbell rang. You opened the door yourself, only to be handed a beautiful bouquet of flowers. The mailman didn’t say who they were from, and simply left. You could blame the butterflies still taking over your stomach, or maybe your recent slumber, but you had no idea who had sent you that gift until you read the card that came with it.

“Dear y/n,

Deflowering means to take one’s flower, and as we have just done that to each other, this seemed like an appropriate gift.

I know these physical flowers are fleeting, but the fact that we now have each other’s flowers is forever.

Thank you for taking my flower so gently and lovingly, I hope you felt the same about me taking yours. I’m crazy for you.

- Mike Wheeler, whose flower (and love) you’ll bear for the rest of your life.”

[garbagecxre]

You Know I'm Good For It (+18)

summary: It's your day off, and you want to spend it with your loving partner, but his work has him caught up and missing the lunch date you had broken you back to prepare. How will he apologize for this disrespect, you wonder?

warnings: raunchy smut, heavy nsfw, eating out, squirting, she gets it on the table lmao, sex in the spider cave, some spanish sprinkled in there!

dom!miguel x sub!reader

wc: 2.2k~

note: this is my first fic in a VERY LONG TIME, so sorry if it's kinda basic, i'm trying to put myself out there first. i do have many other pieces planned, so pls follow me!!

Your feet were like fire as you stormed out of the cave mouth and towards the dias, a plate of hot food steady in your hand.

“Bebo, viente,” You call to him once you reach the bottom, but get not response. Sucking your teeth, you crane your neck to look over his hunched form, but the width of his shoulders block almost everything. Heaving a frustrated sigh, you walk around the dias to face him and call out, “Lyla, can we have a minute?”

The AI assistant and mutant jump in unison, then swing their heads around to face you. Miguel’s fangs were out, and his mouth was twisted in a snarl. Previously frustrated by something, no doubt. Lyla, on the other hand, began to shrink away in guilt like she’d gotten caught provoking the giant. You didn’t care to ask, only smirked at her as she disappeared into the virtual ether.

Miguel begins stepping down from the dias, shoulders slumping a bit as he closes the distance. His towering form greets you and leans over to plant a kiss atop your head. You huff, almost shoving the plate in his hands.

“Cabron, you’re annoying as hell,” you began before Miguel got to open his mouth, finger already jabbed into his chest, “first, I tried to ping you, tell you food was ready. But no, you don’t even acknowledge that, and I know Lyla read my message out to you!”

Lyla from a distant comm replies, “I did! Many times!”

“Many times!” You repeat, “Then, I sent people down here to tell you that food was ready. I sent Ben down here, and what did you do? You fucking made him cry! Why did you do that?”

All the mutant could do was blink in stunned silence as he listened to your rant. The only response he gives you was some blubbering, “Pero, mi nena, I—”

“Save it,” you hold a hand up, “I was trying to be nice and play housewife on my day off, but it seems that your work is more important than my cooking.” There was a pout lining her speech.

Miguel notices the shift in tone and immediately melts on top of you, pulling you into a one-armed embrace.

“I’m so sorry, mi beba,” he mutters into your hair, tightening his grip a little, “this is an important case I had to take care of.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” You cut him off, head shooting up to glare at him, “You made me wait almost an hour!”

“Okay, that’s on me, I’ll admit. But, I’m done now, and you have me all to yourself.” You feel a hand slide down your waist as he spoke, “I can make it up to you.”

“How the hell will you do that?” You reach around to swat his hands away, but his next words stop you in your tracks.

“I could eat you out.” The superhero’s words grant him a hard smack to the chest that has him quickly rebalancing his plate, “Ay, mi nena, don’t be like that.” He sets his plate down on a nearby work bench and pulls you in for a proper embrace, “When’s the last time I made you squirt, hm?”

“Stop, I’m not in the mood,” you start to pull away from his arms, but his grip remains firm around your waist. With a huff, you cross your arms against your chest to get as much distance as possible between you and the spider-man.

“I can change that,” he replies, hands lowering to her ass.

You scoff, “oh really? Like I’ll fall for it.”

“You can’t resist me, beba, we both know this.” Miguel’s words became like honey at that moment, then his hands find purchase around your thighs, and you feel yourself being hoisted up. You yelp, legs wrapping around his waist on instinct. Your vision is temporarily blocked, but you could feel the low chuckle rumble within his chest.

You smack his chest lightly with a pout, “Not funny!” Your eyes look everywhere but up into your lover’s, cheeks growing hot with embarrassment.

Miguel nudges your temple in an attempt to get you to look up at him. When you don’t budge, he parts his lips to let out a soft growl, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand and your head to jerk up and face your boyfriend.

“You know I’m good for it, beba,” you had trouble looking into his eyes, but for different reasons now. It was like a cloud of lust was cast over is eyes, his lids were hooded, and his gaze was no longer on yours. You cursed under your breath, forgetting about the slip dress you’d hastily donned before coming down here, braless and pressed against Miguel’s chest, presenting ample cleavage to him. You could almost see the bead of saliva start to form at the corner of his lips.

“You’ve been down here by yourself for too long,” you huff but relax into his arms, surrendering yourself a little to the giant male. “Let’s go home and—” You were cut off by teeth grazing the side of your neck, forcing a shuddering breath to escape your lips. You were no longer able to utter another word as his tongue pokes out and laps at the sensitive flesh caught in his jaws. All you could do was release another shuddered breath and finally melt into his embrace.

“That’s my good girl,” you feel his lips form the words against your skin, then he picks a spot to suck on gently while his hands begin to explore your body. He cups the underside of your ass as he bites a hickey into your flesh, your moan echoes throughout the cave.

“Bebo, please,” you whine, tilting your head back a bit to invite him in, “Let’s go somewhere more private—”

“Can’t wait,” He grumbles, arms tightening around so much that you can feel the rising bulge pressing up against your navel. You curse under your breath, straining your gaze to catch a glimpse of your dress having been hiked up by said bulge.

You curse again and look back into his lust stricken gaze, “Work bench,” you say, eyes darting towards the steel table behind him. His hulking form turns to acknowledge it before swinging you around like a rag doll and settling you down on top of its metal surface. You hiss as the cold steel stings your bare thighs.

He doesn’t lean in to kiss you, nor does spare another glance your way before dropping to his knees, irises now glowing red and fixated on your exposed sex. You knew that it was easier to accept your fate when he got like this. So, leaning back against your forearms, your fingertips slowly curl into the light fabric of your dress. A gentle tug was all you needed to expose the rest and earn a growl of approval from the beast.

You bite back a moan as Miguel’s hot breath is like silk against your sex. Your legs moved like they had a mind of their own, spreading a little wider and giving more access to the man before you. The first contact between his tongue and your clit was like lightning, your hips buck up and lips part in a soft gasp. He gives you a few seconds to relax before poking his hot tongue back out to lap slow and sensual circles around your clit, a satisfied groan rumbles deep in his chest as the taste of your essence coats his tongue.

“Please,” you manage to get out between moans, “don’t fucking tease me.” No verbal response from the beast, only a quickened pace of his tongue. You buck your hips once more and gasp loudly, white-hot rods of pleasure shoot up your spine and spread throughout your body. Miguel has to grab hold of your thighs to keep your hips still while you writhe under him, but his tongue remains merciless, lapping up the glistening pearl between your legs. You had no choice but to take all of what he’s giving you and then some.

A mixture of your hips bucking against his ever tightening grip and the fast lapping of his tongue had you almost wailing out. You saw sparks in your vision and at this moment, you had no control over your body; your moans barely sounded like your own, they came out almost like a growl, something you’ve heard your lover do many times. Miguel’s only response was to flick his tongue faster against your clit, silently encouraging more of those primal sounds from you. It was maddening how good he was at making you scream, how easy it was to make your back arch off the table and make your thighs clench tight around his head. 

Your orgasm came in waves, first your toes begin to curl, then your hips start to shake and buck uncontrollably. With a final gasping cry, your back forms a deep arch off the cool surface, and you release all over his mouth and chin, a puddle forming beneath the both of you. But, his tongue doesn’t stop, you realize, and the pressure begins to build up a second time. You couldn’t brace yourself fast enough for the second orgasm, and he didn’t stop until the puddle became a pool, and you lay limp on top of the warmed steel.

Your eyes were glazed over, the only sound that could be heard throughout the cave were the sound of your whimpers. Miguel stood, the lower half of his suit dissolving as his hands grab your thighs once more. You feel something softly plop against your navel, looking down you notice your lover’s lower half naked and his erect cock pointing at you, precum slowly dripping out of its angry red tip and creating a small pool on your skin. It twitched in response as his eyes finally landed on you, gaze scanning your half exposed body and drinking it all in.

“Que buena eres,” the mutant’s voice comes out hoarse and breathy, your response was a whine and another buck of your hips. You were weak, and your desire left you hot and desperate for more, you wanted nothing more than to be broken over and over again on this table. Taking this as a sign to waste no more of your time, he grabs your hips and pushes himself past your folds. Yours and Miguel’s combined moans fill the cave, the warmth encasing him nearly making him crumble where he stood.

“Fuck,” he hisses, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist, “tell me when to move, beba.”

“Move!” You breathe as your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper inside your heat. With a growl, he pries your legs back apart, bringing them to rest on his shoulders instead. His hips begin to move, a moderate pace that had you moaning softly, but it wasn’t enough. You watch Miguel’s brows push together as he struggles to keep his pace without hurting you. You grab his hand and bring it up to your throat, a silent message giving him your consent to let go.

He takes it gratefully, hand wrapping around your neck tight, but not enough to cut off your breathing. His hips gradually pick up in pace, his glowing eyes were trained on yours as the force of his thrusts nearly knocks over the table. This only encourages him though, hands gripping your thighs even tighter as his thrusts become erratic. The force of it all brought tears to your eyes, your mouth hung open as moans and cries just fell out. You were a pathetic mess under the mutant, the previous orgasms rendering you useless against his strength.

He only stopped when your cunt pushed him out and a steady stream of clear liquid hits his crotch. You were crying and writhing against his grip as your orgasm consumed your entire body. He barely gives you time to feel the pleasure before sliding back in with the same ferocity as before, hands now gripped around your calves. He spreads your legs wide so he could get a good view of your limp and sweaty body, lips parting in a snarl as his pace once again quickens so much that the pattern of his thrusts become erratic. Miguel loses himself in the pleasure, growls and grunts being the main sounds that fill the room. Your whimpers can’t even be heard over the sound of skin slapping against one another.

Finally, you feel his hips stutter and look up to see his face contorted in pure ecstasy. For a second, you could feel Miguel’s entire body tense, and then hot ribbons of cum coat your walls. You sigh out as your lover leans over and rests his upper half atop you, arms now wrapped tight around your waist. He sighs against your neck, leaving soft pecks on damp flesh. For a while, you both lay like this and catch your breath.

Then, Miguel stands straight again, his suite once again fully intact, “I’d clean you up, but I don’t have any supplies here,” He says sheepishly, “I could carry you back to the house if you want.”

“You know what,” you wave your hand lazily, “it’s the least you could do for making me wait an hour.”

“What, my dick wasn’t enough?” Miguel quickly ducks as a foreign object came flying at him, “Alright, alright, come here.” He chuckles, scooping your weak body into his arms. As he walks into the cave mouth, he pulls you in a little closer to whisper, “So… You think you’ll be up for round two when we get home?”

FIN

[enemiestolovershoe]

JJ Maybank and reader/Y/N/you where he proposes right after high school would be so cute and the fluff is killing me rn

Forever Starts Tonight

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N and JJ Maybank are high school sweethearts, inseparable and completely in love. Graduation night brings a beautiful surprise that changes everything.

Words: 1k

Warnings: none

You’d always known JJ Maybank had a charm about him, one that made heads turn and hearts flutter. He was the kind of guy everyone noticed. With his wild blond hair, mischievous blue eyes, and that grin that was equal parts trouble and delight, it was hard not to get swept up in his energy. But you? You had the one thing others didn’t. You had his heart.

It all started sophomore year, on a day that could only be described as chaotic. It was your first beach bonfire, and you’d gone with a few friends, excitement bubbling in your chest. The Pogues were already there—laughing, joking, and having the time of their lives. You’d known of them, but hadn’t really known them. JJ, though, had always stood out. He was loud and unapologetically himself, something you admired from afar.

Somehow, that night, you ended up beside him by the fire, his laughter infectious as he told a story about him and Pope getting chased by a goat on a fishing trip.

“So, you’re telling me the goat just…attacked?” you’d laughed, trying to keep a straight face.

JJ raised his hands in surrender, his grin wide. “I swear! That thing had it out for me. Pope just left me to fend for myself!”

You’d ended up spending the rest of the night with him, talking until the fire was nothing but embers. By the time the sun started to rise, he’d slipped his jacket around your shoulders and walked you home. After that night, JJ was in your life constantly—texting you funny stories, showing up at your door unannounced, even inviting you to hang out with the Pogues. Eventually, somewhere between late-night talks and shared laughs, friendship turned into something more. JJ Maybank wasn’t just the life of the party—he was your best friend, your rock, and the boy who made your heart race.

The whole school noticed when you two got together. JJ Maybank and you, the girl who’d somehow managed to calm his wild spirit. You became the “it” couple. Whether it was cheering him on at soccer games or sitting on the beach together under the stars, you two were inseparable. JJ was a handful—reckless, stubborn, and impulsive—but he loved you fiercely, with a loyalty that was unwavering.

As graduation approached, things felt surreal. You and JJ would often talk about the future, but he’d get this nervous look whenever the subject of life after high school came up. You knew he had his struggles—life hadn’t always been kind to him. But no matter what, you were determined to face it together.

Then, on the night of graduation, JJ surprised you.

After the ceremony, you were standing on the beach, watching the waves crash under the moonlight. JJ had pulled you away from the others, his arm draped over your shoulder as you walked.

“Can you believe we’re done with high school?” you asked, smiling at him.

He shrugged, though there was something different in his eyes. “Kinda crazy, huh? We survived.”

You laughed. “Yeah, and that’s a big deal for you.”

He held his hands up defensively. “Hey, I managed to graduate! With only, like, a few close calls. Don’t I deserve some credit?”

“Fine, fine. You’re basically a genius, Maybank,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

JJ’s face softened as he took your hand, his fingers entwining with yours. “I’m serious, though. I couldn’t have done it without you. I mean, I wouldn’t have even shown up to half of my classes if it wasn’t for you dragging me there.”

“Someone had to keep you out of trouble,” you said, grinning up at him.

JJ took a deep breath, suddenly looking nervous, his gaze fixed on the sand as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“JJ? Are you okay?”

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite place. “You know… I never thought I’d get this far. And I know I mess up a lot, and maybe I’m not the guy you deserve. But you…you make me better, you know? You’re my everything.”

Your heart raced as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box.

“JJ…” you whispered, covering your mouth with your hands as tears pricked at your eyes.

He got down on one knee, his gaze never leaving yours. “I don’t have a lot, and I can’t promise you an easy life. But I can promise you all of me, forever. Will you marry me?”

You couldn’t help the tears that slipped down your cheeks as you nodded, your voice breaking. “Yes, JJ. Yes!”

He grinned, relief and joy written all over his face as he slipped the ring onto your finger. The two of you barely noticed the cheers erupting from your friends, who had been watching from a distance. JJ pulled you into his arms, spinning you around as you laughed.

“You’re stuck with me now, Maybank,” you whispered as he set you down, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he murmured, his eyes shining with love.

The night passed in a blur of laughter, tears, and promises of a future filled with love and adventure. And as you stood there, hand in hand with JJ, you knew you’d found your forever.

[gxrefxtish]

Obey me reactions to me randomly throwing up at 2 AM (based on true events)

This has actually happened, basically I wasn’t feeling well before bed so I went to sleep hoping it would go away, it definitely went away after I woke up and immediately threw up all over me and my floor!

⚠️emetophobia warning (vomit and sickness mentions, gross shit basically.)⚠️

!Platonic!

Not a reader.

Lucifer

•Well this is great.

•Scott please he can’t handle anymore stressors..

•”What do you mean the “I should’ve gotten the puke bowl”? That’s disgusting.”

•Like the mom older brother he is he knows how to deal with sickness and injury.

•he’d help get clean clothes, and get a shower ready before cleaning the mess, changing the bed sheets and making sure everything is in order.

•10/10 handles it well.

Mammon

•Might throw up too.

•What do you want him to do!?

•”The…the “puke bowl?” What the hell are ya talkin about?”

•Bothers Lucifer for help.

•Probably stands there awkwardly but tries to help with smaller thing like retrieving supplies Lucifer made him get.

•6/10 not the best, not the worst, handled it like a champ.

Leviathan

•What to you-AH WHAT THE FUCK!?

•gags immediately.

•”DONT CARE ABOUT THE PUKE BOWL JUST STAY WHERE YOU ARE!”

•BACK! BACK I SAY!!! stay in that doorway heathen!

•Calls Lucifer in a panic as I’m just kinda 🧍‍♂️“Levi I frew up.”

•doesn’t really do much to help in the cleaning up process but seems like the after help person, like playing games and stuff with me.

•5/10 not the best help wise but games are nice.

Satan

•Well that’s not good.

•One of the calmer one out of his brothers.

•”The puke bowl sounds disgusting can I help you clean up now?”

•Researches how to clean vomit and what I can safely eat or drink.

•Very helpful, just like his mother he is one of the better help options.

•10/10 solid choice.

Asmo

•why are you ruining his beauty sleep?OH MY…OH oh…disgusting..back off let him call Lucifer, one moment.

•”Lucifer help, Scott came into my room with vomit on him while sobbing, help he said he should’ve got a “puke bowl”what even is that?”

•Not touching that, not cleaning it, sorry.

•He’d wait for Lucifer to finish the cleaning and then bring some care stuff into the room to give a late night álef care session.

•6/10 Not helpful cleaning wise but the self care is fun.

Beelzebub

•Is that food..well not from today at least.

•Probably has cared for Belphie while sick before and knows some care stuff, not the best with cleaning it up.

•”the puke bowl?…that’s not good.”

•who ya gonna call?…Lu-ci-fer!

•Lucifer is cleaning up the bed and mess while Beelzebub is cleaning me up and getting some safe snacks to eat.

•10/10 best boy.

Belphie

•it’s 2am what are you doing…now i know what you’re doing.

•stares at you awkwardly as he lays there and I just stand there.

•”The puke bowl sounds horrendous, go bother Lucifer.”

•Won’t do much unless bothered enough for it, even then most he’d do is go bother Lucifer for me and fuck off.

•Not gonna clean shit, do it yourself.

•might chill out in the clean bed while I’m trying to clean myself up.

• 2/10 thanks for getting Lucifer ig.

Diavolo

•what’s the commotion in the guest room?…oh!…

…….

Barbatos help!

•He should’ve noticed the guest wasn’t feeling well! Why didn’t you let him know?

•”puke..bowl? Is that a human tradition?…wait why are you sobbing, please, it’s not a big deal!”

•Hasn’t had to clean up anything really big, mainly had it done for him so he’s feels very unhelpful just making Barbatos do it.

•When Barbatos is busy with something else Diavolo might check up on you or help retrieve clean clothes.

•10/10 absolute sweetheart, handles it like a champ.

Barbatos

•Why are you wandering so late? Oh, no no don’t cry it’s not a bother.

•Immediately starts helping with all he can.

•”The…excuse me the what bowl. That’s not very pleasant sounding.”

•Cleaning, helping, food, everything he’s got it, absolute sweetheart it’s shocking he’s even a demon.

•stays to help making sure everything is comfortable and okay.

•too good for scale.

Simeon

•Why do I hear water running at 2am?…no no no! Don’t cry it’s okay!

•Had helped Luke many times with illness.

•”the puke bowl doesn’t sound too pleasant, will you take this medicine please?”

•Quickly but efficiently grabbing supplies and cleaning up, making sure everything is in order.

•Amazing, best father help ever!

•Also too good for the scale.

Luke

•Why do I hear sobbing out here?

……..

Simeon…help!

•panicky at first, aggressively gently shakes Simeon awake while trying to explain what’s happening.

•”Why are you talking about a puke bowl that sounds really gross..”

•helps Simeon set up clean sheets, clean stuff, get supplies, try to stop me from sobbing because I won’t stop sobbing.

•My amazing son.

•10/10 bestest boy

Solomon(derogatory)

•I just wanted a late night snack:(

•just kinda stands there before fucking off and either getting Simeon or a towel.

•”Your definitely should’ve gotten a puke bowl.”

•Kinda helps? He gets clean sheets and uses wizardry shit or smth so he’s doing something.

•will try and offer food but throwing up my stomach sounds more fun.

•3/10 he did something I guess.

[celestie0]

Idk if this is weird to ask but can you tell more about your situationship?😭 I’m curious since it inspired the story idkkk

nooo not weird at all haha, i had plans to share more ab it once i was done w kickoff but i dont really mind sharing a bit now (will literally always take up any chance to talk ab it it’s an impulse i cannot resist)

basically i met this guy like halfway through my freshman year of college at a frat event, it was a bit different from kickoff dynamic in that we started hooking up pretty soon after that, just a casual thing, but then the pandemic hit and so he went back home to live w his grandpa/family in new york (i live in cali) once campus shut down and stuff. obviously we couldn’t hook up anymore LMFAO but we still talked a lot and i think it was during this time of just talking to one another that i really started to catch massive feelings for him :”)

i went through some bad anxiety during covid, struggling a lot w my career and if i still wanted to pursue the things i thought i wanted (i think a lot of college students went through this w the pandooski) but he would always be there for me and would stay on facetime calls w me if i was struggling to study, he’d cheer me up w pics of his tibetan dogs lol, just reallyyy sweet ugh when we were long distance i rly saw a side of him i didn’t before and i think that’s what made me fall for him

i confessed to him first, similar to reader in kickoff, n told him we could do long distance until he moved back here. but then he hit me with the “i’m sorry, i can’t date you, i’ve got commitment issues”. in his case, he had a long-term girlfriend in high school for four years who he also was dating into college (before he met me), but he found out she had been cheating on him for a long time w not just one but multiple of his friends 😭 so..he said he has really bad trust issues, and that he really wanted to try to date me, but he just felt like he couldn’t

i was really hurt, obviously, but i think in hindsight maybe it was a responsible decision on his part to not throw me into a mess of a relationship w him, one he knew he wasn’t ready for. but at the time, i just thought that it was bc i wasn’t good enough to change his mind. anyways, he asked if we could still talk and be friends, and i said sure bc i didn’t really want to lose him. i figured i could just wait for him (and i told him that i would)

yeahhh well the waiting was way more fucking painful than i thought. he flew to cali once to visit me when flights were sort of resuming, which is just fucking insane because you’ll fly to see me but you won’t date me 😭, and i told him that it’d be the last time he ever sees me! and it was :”) maybe it was an impulsive decision by me, but idk. yknow when you get stuck in a limbo for what feels like forever that you make a decision just for the sake of making one (it was such a short amt of time in reality, but it felt like forever) he made a comment to me in our last conversation about how he really wished he didn’t have to be someone i had to wait on to change, and that really fuckin stuck w me lmao i cried so hard the drive home from the airport. i think all the “what-ifs” kinda sunk in at that moment

ch7 of kickoff was basically me trying to get inside the head of the guy from my situationship, and see what it’s like to have fears hold you back from wanting to experience something for yourself, something that could be beautiful if you would just give it a chance. i felt like if i wrote it from that angle, i’d have more understanding of my situationship (i dont have commitment issues myself, tbh i’ve never rlly understood the concept. like, i’ve been fucked over by ppl in my life too but i’m never one to punish the next person for it. dealing w my situationship was really hard because of this, i would get really frustrated, but writing ch7 from gojo’s character’s perspective made situationship guy’s feelings make more sense to me, i think, there was a sense of closure in that)

but anyways, i was in love w him for sure. like, possibly infatuated. there was a time where we got into a big argument about something and i think i legit i cried myself into a fever 💀 it was all so crazy and powerful, the feelings, i’ve been involved w n dated other guys since but of course none of it really compares. idk, i guess there are just some people that can make you feel that way, there’s really no use in understanding why.

this sounds so sappy, lmaoo i swear i truly am “over” him in that i hardly think of him that much anymore, n tbh i don’t think of him specifically all that much while i’m writing kickoff, but there are moments where i can’t help but bring those feelings into the story.

there’s a line in ch8, near the end of the bed scene, where reader has a thought like

“You feel so safe with him, and yet you also feel scared, because you like him so much that you would let him ruin you if he wanted to.”

yeah. that’s basically how i felt about him.

[t-the-ring-master]

Know what ya’ll, its Mermay, I’ve done nothing for it due to not having the energy… so here’s an OC drabble on one of my OC’s ya’ll have never heard of, EVERYONE! MEET AARON!

Hang on, gotta start this thing right.

Oh, and I imagine reader to be female but I never mention it. And it’s kinda platonic anyways so safe for anyone to read honestly.

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Oc Drabble! Mermay addition!

Requests: closed

Asks: open

Tag list: none

Tw: cannibalism, mentions of eating people and other merfolk/humans. Bro is a trader lol. He talks about eating other creatures a lot. He likes to lore drop like crazy and over share… me too Aaron, me too. There is a human mentioned to be drowning but bro lived. I’m my own beta reader right now, bear with me please. He’s normally way more aggressive but I wanted him to be a bit more toned down since this interaction takes place a few months after you meet.

Aaron is a very large transparent fish type creature so erm… yeah he creepy. I’ve been into subnautica again so I guess you can count him as an alien fish thing? I’m gonna make this an x reader because I can. This will take place on an alien planet, although originally he used to just be a deepsea merman. Enjoy! If you have any questions or ideas for him, my asks are open! He will also become a requestable OC soon too!

I don’t know how to accurately describe his size within the story, so for reference, he is about as large as young adult male humpback whale. Bro big.

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Your crew and yourself had set off on a voyage around six years ago now. Your mission unclear, as well as if or when you’d ever return to earth.

Although, it seems the answer is now going to be never with the situation you’ve found yourself in. Your crew, your ship, and most supplies are now all gone. Now stuck on an ocean like planet with just little material left to work with. Although, there has been one “helpful” face in this.

An odd, and very large alien like creature that refers to himself as Aaron.

He is huge, completely see through, reminding you of the type of fish that cause nightmares, having an anglers lure resting on his forehead, fins residing on his ears, neck, leading down his spine and some smaller ones on his more human like arms.

His sharp teeth although similar to his body were more bone like, although thin and razor sharp, and sitting within two rows. His hair… wasn’t exactly hair either, it instead reminded you of a jellyfish or the type of organisms that created one larger one, giving him long and oddly iridescent hair, constantly draping his form.

Due to him being basically see through, he seemed scrawny at a distance, but in reality he was incredibly strong, and he liked to show it off.

You had met him when you had first set out into open water in a spare dingy you had found in the escape pod. Running into a group of more hostile aquatic creatures, more animal like. You assumed you were done for until you felt something ripple the boat underneath and watched as the pod vanished deeper into the water one by one. After about a half hour of it, that’s when he appeared picking his teeth with his long claws like he just finished a large plate at a buffet.

“My my, I haven’t eaten that well in months! Gulpers aren’t my first choice of meal usually but beggars can’t be choosers… Now, let’s see what we have here. A client, or food.”

The beast said, lowering himself to get a good look at the dingy with just you on board, scared out of your mind that you were going to be his next meal.

“Oh! A human! And a living one at that, last one I saw was already picked off by snatchers!.

I suppose it’s rude to you if I don’t properly introduce myself. You can call me Aaron, a more human name I was given years ago from another human. I am your local ‘lethal class’ creature, but I have also been called a merman, or merfolk by some. Apparently it’s the closest you can get to describe what I am to you people.”

Aaron said, lowering himself down deeper into the water, now only being just above his waist out the water.

“You must have some questions, so I’ll make this quick. No I don’t sing and lure sailors to drown, I’m not from your world. I speak your language because I was taught, you aren’t the only human who has washed up on this forsaken planet.

I was named Aaron by some little kid way back when, don’t remember her much but she was with another alien some years back for supplies. (hehe, story lore. He is loosely connected to baby on board) I’m a trader or a seller of sorts, I give supplies for trade or payment.”

The introduction to your ‘friend’ was definitely a strange one, that is for sure.

He made it clear he wasn’t too much of a threat within that conversation, but it didn’t hide the off handed comments and hints he wasn’t against eating humans… or his own kind later down the line during your first meeting. Apparently he was very much the type to eat humans or even other more sentient beings should they annoy him or no longer become of interest… which is probably why you now trade with him often, like you were right now.

“Are you sure you don’t have anything like this Aaron?”

“I’m sure pipsqueak. I’ve even been around the wreak and I haven’t found anything like what’s on the little drawing you are showing me. My best guess is that Gupper swallowed or ate whatever part you are looking for near that wreckage ages ago.

If it fits in their mouth it’s gone. I’d go deeper but with it being pairing season, creatures are far more territorial and even I won’t mess with a creature starting their nests or protecting their new young.

I’ll look through more pod wreaks if I find any, but there’s no guarantee. I’m too big to fit in the more cramped areas, so I can’t exactly search any that landed in shallows.”

Aaron explained, leaning on a small piece of a moving island.

Shockingly, he was always honest with his product and would even try and look for things for you. Offering to explore depths you wouldn’t dare to, or sometimes offering to simply retrieve things for free if they weren’t too out of the way.

“No, Aaron, that’s alright. I’m sure I can find the parts I need to make one. I’m just really sick of having to filter water a little bit at a time…”

“Hey, I actually have a question. How come I haven’t seen any other creatures like you around? I’ve been meaning to ask, but I just didn’t want to bring it up in case…”

You ask, genuinely interested. You had been stranded on planet for a while now, at least roughly four months. The closest thing you had encountered to him was simply a sound he -albeit, higher pitched- makes when he was distressed before hearing an abrupt stop to it.

“It was a sore spot? Not in the slightest!” He exclaimed almost happily.

“It’s simple really, we have our own territory. We aren’t pod creatures normally unless it’s our mates and young. And even then, young sometimes leave and don’t return to their parents to establish their own territory.

Any of my kind wouldn’t be near by because most this area aside from past the deep depths are all my territory. If you see any, it won’t be for long since I’ll have chased them off or made an easy meal out of em. I’m the largest of my kind from my most recent knowledge, so they are easy pickings.

I also don’t have a cave system here, which means it wouldn’t be safe to have a pod, or young anyways.”

“Ohhh, that makes sense… the fact you speak so easily about eating your own kind is concerning.”

Aaron simply laughed, lowering his head onto his fist. Due to the weather changing into the colder months, his translucent skin had started to become more purple, and his heartbeat slower.(which was strange, because you could actively see his heart.) it seemed he was more tired than usual.

His top fin, which resided in the middle of his head flopped over to his left side as he tilt his head so his glowing pupils could look even deeper into your soul.

“That’s just our life cycle. In fact, it isn’t uncommon for siblings to even fight over their parents own territory should they not be close. Sometimes we make bonds and we never attack our own pod mates, but should they become a threat to us, it’s kill or be killed.

Honestly, the only time I know I won’t be attacked, even if I’m the strongest within the area is if I enter my parent’s territory. They don’t tend to attack their own young.

My kind also don’t often go after the smaller subspecies of our kind either, we don’t see them as worth while meals usually. In fact, we sometimes form a type of companionship. Us larger kinds offer protection, the smaller offer assistance with caring for young, catching or luring meals, and in rare occasions are simply companions.” Aaron explained, going on one of his more usual rants.

“It’s probably the same reason we rarely eat the humans that sometimes crash here actually. You are similar sizes and build to our subspecies. I actually mistook the first human I met as one of them!

I was a juvenile and my parents had one of their own, so I grabbed it and brought it with me all the way to the cove… of course, it was a human so he obviously couldn’t be underwater. I thought I man handled the poor thing too much because it was struggling so hard to break surface!

It ended up being our little subspecies that grabbed him and pulled him up for air. That’s how we learned what a human was and even eventually learned English. He lived on top the cove for some years before dying.”

Aaron spoke before sighing. His ‘brow’ quirked at the memory, his mouth in a pressed line before shrugging and diving back into the water.

For a moment, you thought he left, only to be proven wrong when he popped up behind you, his shoulders being the lowest point of him to recede out the water now.

“Apologies, was drying out. Now where was I? Oh yes.

He was a type of researcher. Much too old by the time I found him to swim on his own for long. And also much too old to live long. He was an interesting fellow.

Anyways, he is why I was able to recognize humans. Also the reason I know what I can get from them in return for my help.

Speaking of help, I’ll keep looking for your little metal scrap you need, but I make no guarantees. Until then, keep your payment, I’m anything except unfair. Until next time human.”

And with that, he was gone… as were you. Because he used his tail to flick you back to your escape pod that was stationed in the shallow. Man you hate when he does that. It’s a trade, not a log ride Aaron!

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Oh my gosh I wrote something! It sucks because I wrote it in like 30 minutes but I finally finished something! Hopefully this makes up a little for my lack of writing 🥲😅.

As I said, asks open! Especially for mermay! If you guys have any Drabble ideas for Aaron, go ahead and send an ask!

[lovelykil]

Hi I’m your number 1 fan 😈😈

Can I have a Kyle one shot where reader is kinda famous on TikTok and she wants to make like cute little romantic TikTok’s with Kyle?? Like the lipstick trend on TikTok I love that trend😭😭. Maybe prefer like a fem reader but gn reader is fine🤫����.

From cacacattz love you pookie wookie😘😘😘🤫🤫🤫🤫🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

「 Lipstick 」

kyle x reader older ver.

cw; fluff

note; I actually WANTED to do this months ago so thanksss for requesting this 🤗 also I have a fan no way (kicking my feet and giggling)

I scrolled on my phone mindlessly, the screen pulling me into a deep worm whole of TikToks to watch. Kyle was right beside me probably on his phone too I wasn't paying attention.

My For you page was mostly filled with weird memes, animal videos, and couples. I usually liked alot of couple tikoks considering I was in a relationship already and so many of the couples videos I've liked had done some pretty cute shit.

Like the latest trend that was going around with couples; the lipstick trend.

Most popular pairs on tiktok had done this, I was planning on doing it for awhile I did have somewhat of a big fan base that loves seeing me and Kyle make videos together, on my account it's basically just filled with me and him doing cutesy stuff the lipstick trend was just going to be another one.

"Ky! Wanna film a tiktok with mee?" I flipped over on my side to look at him. He set his phone down to look over at me, I made a pleading smile shaking my phone slowly in my hand.

"If you promise to make one with me on my account as well."

"Deal!" I squealed, latching myself to his arm. He laughed, using his free hand to hug me and kiss my forehead.

"So what even is the tiktok we're doing?"

"You'll see."

───────

I propped up and fixed my phone so it catch me in frame then set the timer. I ran quickly to my spot with my favorite lipstick I made a small glance over at letting out a giggle.

"You ready?" I whispered to him, smiling.

He gave me a thumbs up, smiling softly.

I nodded my head and returned to the camera to apply the lipstick when the timer stopped. As the music played I messed up applying lipstick on purpose pausing for a second to recognize my intentional mistake, then looking to my side.

I smiled sheepishly as I took ahold of Kyle's chin softly pulling him into frame, to reveal the various kiss marks planted all over his pretty structured face you could even see some reach down to his neck if you looked closely.

We smiled at each other, him growing nervous which made me a bit flustered that I planted a nervous kiss to the brim of his hooked nose. I pulled away to adore his face. He raised his hand to gently cup my cheek His face beamed with a genuine smile, it gave me butterflies.

Soon the video ended the 10 seconds was up we still remained staring upon each other in adornment for a few seconds till I pulled away.

I let go of Kyle's chin and kissed his head with a snicker. "That was so cute,, you're so cute Kyle." I bopped his nose. His face redden laughing nervously.

I smiled shortly before grabbing my phone to post our video. I squealed inside from how cute he looked and how the whole video came out. Once I posted the video I was met with Kyle holding onto my lipstick waving it in his hands, looking down at me.

"My turn."

"O-Oh?"

As Kyle applied the lipstick to his lips I couldn't help but laugh but also grow nervous for some reason, his kisses made my stomach ache from butterflies fluttering around. It's just this weird effect this boy has on me.

"Yeah I think red is definitely my color, no?" He turned around to pucker his lips at me. I held my mouth with my hand, letting out a muffled laugh.

"For suree." I played along. He smiled with a playful eye roll. He kneeled in front of me, scooting his way to me. He set the lipstick down and held my face.

"Ready?" He squeezed my face together slightly causing my speech to be incoherent.

"Yehah Ronald McDonwald." I teased and laughed as he squeezed my face together.

"You're an asshole." He shook his head at my comment but still smiled heartily. I snickered some more before he shut me up and came in contact with my lips soon spreading his kisses all over my face.

⋆ masterlist

[bboshi]

Ok so definitely this type of thing regarding the show has been talked about before I don’t doubt BUT I still wanna put in my two cents regarding it so let’s get this going.

So Bob’s Burgers. Great show, adult cartoons done right (once they got their footing since I believe their early seasons felt more Family Guy/Simpsons which considering it was coming out a little late to the game so I assume it believed it needed to be like them but thankfully they’ve grown more confident not saying early seasons are bad their still hilarious ANYWAY OFF TRACK-)

And I really love their character cast. Bob, Linda, Teddy, and of course the Belcher kids (Gene is my favorite but not the topic of discussion).

The two I wanted to point out were Tina and Louise and an interesting thing I noticed regarding the two.

Not so much their relationship (though that itself is would be fun to dissect) but the way they seem to be on complete opposite sides of femininity.

Now to be clear I don’t think anyone, fictional or real, should need to abide by gender norms, but with how engrained it is societally, it’s hard to ignore, especially in television.

Regarding the two girls, Tina seems to be what I think most people would assume a thirteen year old girl would be into at that age. Horses, boys, writing, boys, girlscouts, did I mention boys? (though I feel her level for boys kinda goes a step further which we will get into).

I’m no historical expert in regards to feminine normalities, being a male myself, but I wouldn’t be pressed to see advertising primarily push horses, dolls, and boy crushing onto girls at a young age, which Tina seems to enjoy, and that itself is fine of course, no harm done.

Now all of that?

Throw it out the window for Louise because this girl is here to bring gender norms to the back ally and murder it with a bat.

Louise LOVES fire, knives, basically anything remotely adventurous, risky, or dangerous. Literally she wanted to go out in a hurricane storm in hopes to have some fun (and did! But it was boring so they went home). When she got a crush on a Boy band member? She went through a ton of effort to meet them, all to just fucking bitch slap the guy.

She also knows how to lock pick and is a creature of chaos.

She technically does have dolls, but all of them are alien like creatures and her favorite, Kuchi Kopi, is a Japanese figure (which would be less weird if it weren’t for her being in America).

All of these things, plus more, make her very not feminine and I love her for it. Literally her gender in this case doesn’t define her, it’s her personality.

This isn’t to say she can’t or doesn’t like predominantly female things, but the ratio def leans toward more neutral or masculine things throughout the shows time on air.

And it stands out even more when we have Tina, who immerses herself in it, to compare to Louise, who barely even interacts with it.

The reason I enjoy this is because it’s such a simple way to easily ignore gender norms by having two characters, siblings mind you, be on completely different sides of the idea (And Gene is just Gene, he is his own norm).

I’d pull out episode specific examples but what I’m doing right now doesn’t allow me that kind of time but I assure you dear reader that if you just read this cause you were bored and don’t know a lick of this show that just watching a Louise-centric and then Tina-centric episode you will see my point (hell even when they aren’t the focus you could probably see it).

Also even though Tina does fit into the more feminine side she isn’t completely locked to it either. Her love for boys would be seen as kinda obsessive (which let’s be honest if gender swapped would not be nearly as loved from the internet), and she’s willing to help her siblings in their own things of interest (though not without giving her own concerns).

Anyway please watch Bob’s Burgers it’s a great series ok BYEEEE