#rip things apart with your teeth boy

[ickypuppi3]

i love billy and i want him to be happy and human but at the same time i also think he deserves to come back as some sort of eldritch horror and just fuck shit up

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。i know you still think about the times we had

synopsis. satoru will always comes when you call him, he just never thought you’d stop calling

— word count. 5.2k (where did i go wrong)

— contents. college au, rich boy! gojo, break ups and make ups <3, it’s the cliche trope where the rich guy’s parent forces you to leave him aka gojo’s father is the villain, angst with a happy ending—i don’t want my cause of death to be angry rb! gojo stans, emo gojo ft. marvin’s room (iykyk), cliche rain scene—this fic is so cliche i’m sorry, reader is gn! but gojo is mentioned to like pics of girls on instagram (he was being petty)

— notes. well, it finally happened. the long awaited break up. this one’s for you niku 🤞🏽 AND DABITEE ANON

you open the door when satoru knocks—just barely, though. it’s just enough to hand him the bag with the remaining things he’s left at your apartment. it feels familiar, being here, but it feels so different too. it’s always been happy knocking on your door—he never thought he’d dread letting his knuckles meet the cool wood. it’s like taking the last bite of something sweet when you’re too full. when the sugar is too decadent on your tongue and your head spins and your stomach twists and it’s too much even though it used to be so good.

it’s too much being here. it’s too much trying to meet your gaze and get nothing in return. it’s too much being handed back that sweater he basically let you keep. and yet, it’s good to see you. he wants nothing more than to be here with you, wherever you are, even if you don’t want him to stay.

“that should be everything,” you murmur, still looking down. “let me know if there’s anything missing.”

satoru would never tell you if there’s something missing. he’d never come back and demand back something he gave you, he doesn’t think he could ever take back something he gave you—being handed back his heart after pressing it to your palms is hard enough. but then again, maybe he should look for small things you probably missed. just so he can come back. just so he can see you—how else will he see you now?

“no, it’s alright,” he says quietly. he doesn’t miss the way you quickly let go as soon as his hands grab the bag, almost like you’re being careful enough not to let your fingers meet each other. “you can uh…you can just keep them. or…throw them out if you don’t want them,” he mumbles.

you nod, standing there silently. it’s quiet, and then it’s quiet some more. and finally, you look up at him for the first time since he got here, staring at him a little expectantly. oh, right. now would be the part where he leaves.

“can i…can i just know why?” he croaks. fuck. he’s not supposed to cry. you ripped his heart out and threw it at his feet, you didn’t even care to hand it to him even after you tore every artery apart. but he sniffles anyway, lips wobbling as he stares at you. “why are you leaving me?”

your fingers twitch, like you itch to reach over and wipe that tear that rolls down his cheek. in the end, you cross your arms instead. “i already told you, satoru—”

“that’s bullshit,” he clicks his teeth, shaking his head as he stares at you frustratedly, “you gave me some bullshit reason.”

satoru has worked so hard to be here—to be with you. hadn’t he done enough? hadn’t he told you about himself, things he didn’t want to? hadn’t he tried to become something, someone more than just a guy swimming in trust funds? hadn’t he worked for your attention, waited outside classes and walked opposite directions in the hall with you just to seem dedicated? fuck, he even burned his hand trying to learn how to make pancakes to impress you, let the maids laugh at him as he twisted the stove the wrong way to try and turn it on. 

why wasn’t it enough? what more could he give you than everything? how can the guy who has everything not have enough to give? he doesn’t understand.

“satoru, we weren’t gonna work,” you pinch your nose—it’s like you’re the one who doesn’t understand why he’s being like this. “the sooner you accept that the more hurt you’re saving the both of us—”

“we were working just fine,” he says exasperatedly. it’s like you insist he’s crazy when he’s nothing but sane. like he’s trying to tell you the sky is blue, and you’re refusing to believe it’s anything other than green. it’s clear. it’s practically a fact. you were doing just fine—why don’t you see that? “we were happy,” he takes a step forward and cups your cheeks, pressing his forehead to yours, “was it someone? did they tell you something? just tell me who, baby—i’ll fix it. i’ll put them in their place, okay? no one can bother you if i get them to leave you alone—”

“then you leave me alone,” you whisper. he stills. you pull away from his hands. “sator—gojo. please just leave me alone. it’s better that way.”

you close the door, and he stands there. numb. maybe a little shocked. entirely ruined.

gojo. he laughs quietly after a moment at that—it’s a laugh meant for men who’ve lost the last thread to sanity. gojo. it’s like a slap in the face, being called the name he worked so hard to get you to drop. it took him weeks—months, even, to convince you to call him satoru. then he upgraded to toru. then it was baby. sometimes you teased him and called him pumpkin—he called you peaches in return. when you introduced him, you called him your boyfriend. 

not anymore. now he’s back to gojo—that god-forsaken name with everything but what he really wants attached to it. his grandfather’s legacy. his future. business deals. fancy invites. more money than he knows what to do with. the name gojo comes with everything but you.

but he had you for a bit, didn’t he? when he was just satoru—but now he’s gojo again, and you’re gone. the only sign of you left is in the faint traces of your perfume in the sweaters you’ve returned. 

and satoru still isn’t sure what brought the break up on. he thinks it’s the part that stings the most—when everything seems perfect one second, and then it’s not. had he not tried enough? maybe he was too much. maybe he didn’t understand you the way you needed him to. maybe he was too overbearing. maybe he asked for too much too fast. 

he’s not sure. he tried asking when you broke it off—you only shook your head and said it wasn’t going to work out between the two of you, that it was a mistake to try at all. mistake? how could you call this a mistake? things were so perfect, weren’t they?

satoru doesn’t think there was even one second he wasn’t smiling when he was with you, and he used to think the same was true for you too. had you been faking it this long? or was it real at one point—had he really failed you so badly, seen past you so blindly that he didn’t notice when your smiles stopped reaching your eyes?

it’s too late, he figures. you and satoru are broken up. 

you ask him to come over one morning, and he does—because he always comes when you call. he brings your coffee order from that cafe you like, the one you don’t go to often because the coffee is more overpriced than any other coffee shop you’ve ever seen. he’s grinning when you open the door, leans in to kiss your lips excitedly. you turn your head then, and his lips meet your cheeks instead—he supposes he should’ve known it at that moment. he should’ve seen that your lips weren’t smiling. your eyes were tired, a little red. you were hugging yourself in that way you do when you’re nervous. you didn’t let him kiss your lips, you made him kiss your cheek. 

and then you sat him down on that worn-down couch of yours, took off that bracelet his mother gave him to gift you on your anniversary, and pressed it to his palm as you said we should break up. break up. you wanted to leave him—and satoru didn’t understand, still doesn’t understand. 

he’s tried for so long, replayed the last month of your relationship in his head over and over and fucking over. you always smiled. you kissed him first. you held his hand, and even squeezed. you asked to see him. you laughed when he was around. you said i love you. you were happy. but then you weren’t—when did you stop being happy? and how could you have stopped feeling it with him?

—————

breaking up with satoru is the hardest thing you’ve ever done. how long can people live without the sun? you think not longer than a few minutes—that’s what it feels like without satoru’s warmth, anyway. 

gojo satoru has always smiled as long as he’s been with you. he smiled smugly on your first meet, smiled bitterly after every rejection, smiled in pure glee when you finally said yes, and smiled like his fingertips could touch the sky every time he saw you after that. 

satoru has never looked sad for long in your presence—you have that effect on him, you make his lips curl and his eyes brighten in that way that they deserve to shine. but for the first time ever, his eyes dim with you around, his lips curl into a frown at your words, and he cries for you. his eyes glisten with tears instead of wonder, and you think for a moment that you might be making a mistake. 

but then you remember that this is for the best—that if you really love gojo satoru, you’ll let him go instead of clipping his wings.

“he’s picked up his things,” you speak quietly into the phone. you don’t sniffle even as you desperately need to—it’s the last bit of control you have left, and you intend to keep it. “i won’t be seeing him again.”

“good,” his father speaks, “that’s good to hear.” 

satoru’s father is a cold man, you learn that on the first meet. he doesn’t look at his wife with a soft look that tells you there’s any love built between the decades of marriage, and he doesn’t look at his only son with any affection for the boy he raised. instead, he stares at satoru like any businessman would an opportunity—with a calculating gaze that tries to work out the best course of action for the most profit. 

satoru is young, but he’s charming and conniving and knows how to get what he wants when he wants—he’s quick on his feet and rarely lets himself get cornered into a wall. in the last three generations of the family business, no heir has shown as much promise as gojo satoru. that’s what his father tells you, anyway. you believe him—satoru is smart and knows how to play his cards right, you won’t deny that. his future is set to be comfortable, and he’s never known anything outside of that, never built any other plans for himself. 

you can’t rip that away from him—not for your own sake, not for your own happiness. 

“you promised you wouldn’t freeze his trust funds once i ended things,” you remind him, “and that he’d keep his inheritance.” somehow, because the world grants you this one favor, your voice doesn’t shake—it’s steady and firm as it reminds the stone-cold man at the end of the line of your agreement—and he offers a slow chuckle that makes your jaw clench. 

“yes, i do recall,” he hums, “i’m glad we could come to agree. you understand, don’t you? it is my job as his father to do what’s best for him.”

you know what he’s saying—what that means. you’re not what’s best for him. maybe he’s right—maybe satoru needs someone who’s equally as promising to build a successful company into even more success. maybe he needs someone who can take him out for a change to those fancy places he takes you every few weeks. maybe he needs someone who’s heard of half the brands he wears and doesn’t scold him to turn the lights off so the electricity bill isn’t high. maybe he needs someone who can keep up with everything that gojo satoru is—and that someone is not you, no matter how deeply you love him. 

“—the offer still stands, should you change your mind. i’m willing to compensate you for the trouble this must all be.” 

your lips curl into a scowl at his words. that’s the thing about rich people, you think—money is always enough to sugarcoat everything. why worry about the dead grass in your lawn when you can paint it green? but you don’t leave satoru for extra cash on your hands—nothing can be worth auctioning off the only man who’s ever made you feel anything. you leave satoru because he deserves to continue living comfortably, to make a name for himself that isn’t just a ghost of his father’s. if that means being cut from the corner of the picture, you’re willing to pick up the scissors yourself. 

“no thanks,” you hiss, “i don’t need the money.”

“i would disagree,” his father sneers, “but suit yourself.”

the line ends, and for good this time, satoru is no longer yours. was he ever to begin with? 

—————

you try to forget your ex-boyfriend—keyword, try. every hour of your life consists of you using your burner account to refresh his instagram page to see if he’s posted anything new. you unfollow satoru from every social media platform the same day he picks up his belongings—you know he’s noticed within the first thirty minutes because all of his pictures with you are gone, just like all your pictures with him. 

in what you assume is an attempt to be petty, he likes every picture of every girl he sees, and he even blocks you on twitter—you know he picks twitter because twitter is the only social media that blatantly states you’re blocked. but then you’re unblocked in two days, and you know he must be missing you now that the initial anger is faded. 

it makes you laugh a little, even through your tears. satoru is not satoru without petty fits of emotion, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad, not when it’s your fault he’s hurting like this. he’s extra sad today, you gather—if the way marvin’s room is posted to his instagram story on a blank screen is of any hint. it makes you scoff in amusement that in true gojo satoru fashion, he’s effectively told all eight-thousand-something of his followers he’s pathetically in his feelings. 

you scroll through suguru’s story, too—he didn’t unfollow you even after satoru temporarily blocked you, but you figure suguru is the only person satoru really has. you shouldn’t keep yourself close to him, not when it could hurt satoru more, so you remove him too. 

suguru is, as always, drinking at some fancy party with obnoxiously rich college students who have not a care in the world for midterms around the corner. who needs to pass when you’re swimming in money whether or not you have a degree? the first thing you learn about the rich is that most of them are only at college for the experience—they don’t see college as the stepping stone to better opportunities, there’s nothing education could offer that trust funds already don’t. but satoru attends college for himself—he enjoys business classes, you learn, and especially finance ones. for someone who spends money so carelessly, he understands it particularly well. 

there’s no sign of satoru at whatever party it is suguru is at, there’s no trace of strikingly bright white strands anywhere in any corners—you do see naoya in a corner, though, and you crinkle your nose in distaste. if satoru were here, he’d say something bitterly under his breath about the asshole, and you would giggle. but satoru is not here, and even naoya the women-hating jackass makes you miss your obnoxiously whiny ex-boyfriend. 

everything reminds you of satoru. that bear he won you at the fair (after maybe six tries) by your pillows, those polaroids at your desk that you can’t bring yourself to take down, that sticky note on your fridge he left promising to replace the creamer he finished (he’s replaced it more times than he’s needed to by now), that extra big blanket you keep on the couch because the old one barely covered his legs, that pair of silly matching mugs you both had for coffee in the mornings. 

every corner of your apartment has something that reminds you that satoru was here, that he was yours, that for a short while, he was the best thing you ever had. it’s your fault, you think—that satoru and you are here in this mess in the first place. he’s always looked at life through a hopeful lens. having everything does that to you, makes you ignorant to the misfortunes of the world, makes you think everything is within the realm of your reach. you, on the other hand, knew this was bound to happen. the two of you together is like hot oil and cool water—what feels like sparks is just the oil shooting out to burn you. you should’ve known this would have never lasted. 

in a way, you think you did. it’s why you hated him so fiercely at first—maybe deep down, you always knew you wanted him, that he would never be yours. maybe that’s why you were so adamant about rejecting him, that even when he was clearly trying, it would never be enough. satoru has always been enough, has always been what everyone has wanted—you’re not so sure you can say the same for yourself. 

you love gojo satoru. he loves you too—he falls first, and you think maybe, he might have fallen harder too. no one loves like satoru. they say if you press coal hard enough, it turns to diamonds—you think if you gave satoru coal, he would hand you back the sun and all of her stars. it’s just the kind of guy he is, the one that turns everything dull into something bright and warm and worth it. you wish you didn’t have to break his heart, you wish you could’ve walked out of this the only one hurt. but maybe, at the very least, if you break him good enough that he hates you, he’ll move on quicker, maybe have something to look forward to while you continue to work your way up and cheer him on. 

before you can refresh suguru’s page one more time to stalk his story, you’re pulled from your thoughts as someone knocks on your door—correction: pounds on your door. you jolt on your couch, standing up and making your way to the front door quickly and looking through the peephole. 

satoru. of course.

he’s soaked to the bone—it’s raining outside, and of course, just as on brand as always, he must’ve rushed here without an umbrella.

you shouldn’t open it.

but you can’t just leave him in the rain, can you? but he’s not your problem anymore, you agreed to leave him, didn’t you? but how could he not be your problem when he’s all you think about? but this could cause him trouble if his father found out he was here, right? but can you really leave someone, ex-boyfriend or not, in the pouring rain? you can’t be that cruel can you?

before you can make up your mind, he speaks up, “i know you’re standing there. open the door,” he demands. 

“satoru, go home,” you sigh, head pressing against the surface that separates you, “don’t make this anymore difficult than it has to be.”

“if it’s difficult, that means you don’t really want to do this,” he argues. he’s still as good as ever at sweet talk, still as persistent and charming as ever at getting what he wants. “please,” he croaks, “just let me in.”

you know it means more than one thing. you know it means more than just your home. but you shouldn’t, you can’t let him know why you did all this—how can you protect someone from something if they don’t let you? satoru would never let you if he knew, and that’s why you can’t let him know. 

“satoru, if you don’t leave…i’ll…i’ll call the cops,” you warn. 

“no you won’t,” he says instantly. “i’m not leaving until you open the door. and if i get sick, i’ll send you my bill for the emergency room visit.”

“you’re not going to the emergency room for a common cold, you idiot,” you scoff. 

the rain doesn’t slow—in fact, you can hear thunder. satoru is still stubbornly outside, knocking away. 

“i’ll start screaming,” he insists, “your neighbors will complain for noise again. do you want to be kicked out of this apartment? just let your cold, wet, heartbroken ex-boyfriend in if you have a heart.”

and because you are, and always will be, weak to the charms of gojo satoru, you open that damned door—even though you shouldn’t, even though you can’t, even though you said you would never again. but you do. because it’s satoru, and he always comes when you call, and you’ll always let him in when he’s here. 

“you don’t come to your ex’s house less than one week after the break up,” you sigh once you open the door. he takes a step in, shutting the door behind him. 

“why did you leave me?” he asks. 

“satoru, you can’t keep bringing this up—”

“why? just tell me why.”

“i don’t have to—”

“tell me why and i’ll stop bothering you. i just need to know why,” he insists. 

and then you break.

you’re only human. you’ve lost the man you’ve given everything to for over a year in the span of one week. you’ll never see his lovely mother again who spoiled you rotten, you’ll never hang out out with his funny best friend who treats you like family, and you’ll never be enough for gojo satoru, the rich, loud, sheltered, obnoxious, handsome jackass you met and had to do a project with and accidentally fucked over and over again until you fell in love. 

so you shove his chest, once, then twice, then a third time, each time getting weaker and weaker than the last as tears slip down your cheeks as you simply break down. “just leave, satoru,” you sob, “why can’t you just leave? why do you keep coming back?”

you hate seeing him here. you want him gone. you never want to see him again. you hope he never leaves. you’re glad to see him. you hope this isn’t the last time. you hate that he seems to not be getting enough sleep. his eyes are hollow. he must not be eating properly. he probably hasn’t attended class. he has a quiz next week. he most likely forgot about that. his clothes are wrinkly. he definitely hasn’t showered in days. 

“last month you said i was it for you,” he glares at you, his eyes red and swollen and every shade of heartbreak. you miss when they were blue—that beautiful, bright, perfect shade of blue. “last week you said we were a mistake. what the fuck do you mean, huh? what are you playing at?”

“you can realize a lot in a month—”

“not enough to erase over a year,” his voice booms. it makes you flinch and hug yourself tightly. tears slide down your cheeks, your vision is blurry. this might be the last time you see satoru, and even if he’s angry, you want to remember the curves of his features. so you wipe them away. they keep coming back. “so tell me,” he clenches his jaw, “did you string me along for a year or did something happen last week that you’re not telling me?”

“i realized you were bad for me,” you say quietly. 

satoru stares at you. it’s a piercing gaze—his eyes are electrically blue and his lashes are unfairly long and every time he stares at you, you think he almost sees into your soul. they’re tired—there are purplish bags under them on that pale skin of his, and the whites of his eyes are concerningly bloodshot. he stares, and stares, and for a second, you think you’ll die like this. watching him stare at you as your heart bleeds out. 

“i spent weeks,” his voice shakes, “i waited outside your class. i followed you to the next one. i memorized your fucking schedule.”

“satoru, you need to leave—”

“and then you fucked me and left every morning like i was nothing,” he glares, sniffling. you don’t know where the rain drops on his face start and where the teardrops end. “and then i begged you for a chance—begged. i burned my hand, got laughed at by the maids to learn how to make those stupid fucking pancakes for you.”

“i didn’t ask you to—”

“it took you two months to call me baby for the first time. did you know that? i waited two months to hear that. i thought it was the best two months i ever waited.”

“satoru,” you plead. 

you’ve given up on trying to wipe away the tears—he’s given up on crying altogether. you’ve never seen him so hollow, so dead in the eyes and so, so tired.

satoru has never gotten tired—not when he’s fighting for you.

“and then you kept pushing me away, acting like i was some shallow guy who wanted to get in your pants and leave cause i had some money to my name. i took you everywhere, introduced you proudly, let everyone say what they wanted to say about me because i loved you, and…and i thought you loved me too,” he shakes his head. 

his voice breaks, and god, so does your heart right along with it.

“i do love you,” you admit it before you realize what you’re saying. 

“then why did you fucking leave me?” his voice is loud.

satoru never yells, not at you. his voice is always gentle, patient, like he worships the ground you walk on, like he’ll get on his knees if you ask him too. satoru never yells—but he does tonight. 

“because i had to,” you sob, fingers digging into your temples as you shake. the words spill from your lips faster than the tears, like a swarm of angry bees, one following after the other. “or you’d lose everything. the trust funds, the inheritance, the company. i couldn’t let that happen to you—not for me,” you whisper. 

it feels like defeat—in the end, you couldn’t keep satoru, and you couldn’t leave him either. you couldn’t love him like you wanted, and you couldn’t let him go like you should have. what else is there left to fuck up? what more can you ruin in less than a week? the bees feel like maggots in your mouth, swarming a dead carcass.  

“so you left me because my old man threatened you with my trust funds?” he asks in disbelief. you think something in satoru dies at that—something in his shoulders falls and his eyes almost seem gray. 

satoru gets his blue eyes from his mother—they’re bright and kind and deeper than the ocean. but unlike the ocean, they’re not scary to fall into, to lose yourself in no matter how far you are from shore. his father’s eyes are gray—cold and blank and not laced with a single hint of emotion. 

you can’t help but think that blue suits satoru so much better than gray ever could. 

“it wasn’t just that,” you shake your head, “that’s not fair, satoru. what was i supposed to do? know you were about to lose everything and stay?”

“you could have talked to me before you decided for me,” he hisses, “what do you want me to say? thank you? thank you for breaking my heart? thank you for making me feel like a worthless piece of shit who wasted a year for someone who didn’t seem to care? thank you for walking out on me?”

“you know i’d have stayed if i could,” you argue, voice breaking.

“then why didn’t you? why the fuck didn’t you?”

“because i couldn’t!”

“you could!” he screams—you realize, for the first time in your life, you hate when satoru screams. he never screams. “all my life, that old man has been making decisions for me. satoru, wear this. satoru, go here. satoru, don’t do that. satoru, put that away. satoru, stay away from them. satoru, come with me. that’s all he’s ever fucking done—make every choice for me. and now…now you’re just like him,” he breathes, lips wobbling as he stares at you with hurt. 

it’s like that for a bit—you stare at him as he crumbles, and he stares at you like he doesn't know you anymore. you don’t know who leans in first, if it’s your hand or his face, but one second you’re feet apart, and the next second his face is cradled in your hands, thumbs swiping away at his tears. you catch them, one by one, waiting to wipe them away no matter how fast they come. because satoru always comes when you call, and you’ll always be there for him to find you. 

“i don’t want to leave,” you mumble, “i never do. you are it for me, i meant that, you know. who else will melt extra chocolate in my hot chocolate?”

“then don’t leave,” he begs, voice cracking, “i don’t want you to. i’ll handle that old geezer—my grandfather will knock some sense into him. fuck, suguru and i can even hide his body, it’s fine. just don’t leave, okay?”

you let out a watery chuckle, pinching his cheek as you shake your head. “i don’t know if i’m worth homicide, satoru.”

“i think you’re wrong,” he huffs, “you’re wrong about a lot of things, you know. so wrong.”

“i never said i was perfect,” you pout.

he buries his head into your neck, clinging to you tightly—you cling back, because nothing is as safe as satoru’s arms. you’d melt into his skin if you could, live in that spot right where his heart is so you can make sure it’s always beating. 

“you’re still perfect,” he mumbles, “but you’re always mean to me. this was the worst you’ve ever been.”

“i’m sorry,” you murmur, slipping your fingers into his hair—it’s still wet, you realize. he’s soaked, and he could catch a cold but you don’t care. satoru is back. he’s here in your run-down apartment with the mugs and the blanket and that toothbrush you forgot to return and that pair of socks you found in your drawer. satoru is finally home. “i’ll never leave you again.”

“promise?”

“yeah. as long as you don’t block me on twitter again.”

“you deserved that.”

“and for the love of god, toru, delete that marvin’s room story. that was so dumb.”

“are you stalking me?” he pulls away with a grin, making you glare with a huff. he chuckles, kisses your forehead as he murmurs, “missed me that bad, huh? yeah, i would too.”

“well, obviously not enough to post marvin’s room on my story.”

“you can’t be mean to me after you broke my heart!” he whines.

yeah, you think, satoru is home. he’s still that loud, obnoxious, pestering brat that he always was—and he’s still the only love you’ve ever known. 

“i love you,” you press your forehead to his, kissing him slowly. you want to kiss him harder, you want to kiss him desperately like you’ll never kiss him again. like you lost him and miraculously got him back. like you’ll never see the sun again without him. 

but there’s time for that—lots of it, in fact. because satoru is home.

“i love you too,” he whispers, “wanna shower with me? if you really love me, you would.”

read the makeup sex sequel ;) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

if this fic was a person i would want it dead.

[joyaphoria]

kissdrunk!sakusa, who swore to himself that he’d never kiss anyone, revolted by the idea of having to share his mouth with another person.

kissdrunk!sakusa who met you eventually, and though still uneasy about the idea at first, he’d often catch himself staring at the plump of your lips every so often.

kissdrunk!sakusa who caved one night, clumsily leaning in to take your mouth only to have you stiffle a laugh in his once you realize that he’s horrible at it.

kissdrunk!sakusa who let you slip the pad of your thumb between his lips, flusteredly obeying as you taught him how to do the very thing he used to hate thinking about.

kissdrunk!sakusa who ever since then, could never get enough. 

kissdrunk!sakusa who would kiss you awake in the mornings, silently rejoicing when he took the risk of slipping his tongue pass your lips and you latched onto it, moaning softly.

kissdrunk!sakusa who would kiss you anytime, anywhere, however he likes it.  slipping his tongue past your lips outside the gym after practice when you come to pick him up, the hand at the back of your head pulling you closer, his teammates gaping in horror.

kissdrunk!sakusa who would kiss you deep and slow as you take the elevator up to your apartment, because he was far too impatient.

kissdrunk!sakusa who would fuck your mouth until he was satisfied, holding your pretty head in place with two hands as his hips jerk and he shoots his load down your throat, groaning blissfully. he’d yank you upwards then, pulling your lips to his demandingly, tasting the saltiness of his seed on your tongue, rewarding you once he knows for sure that you swallowed all of it.

kissdrunk!sakusa who would kiss his way down your body, tongue flicking against the swolleness of your clit, then pressing a soft kiss in warning.

kissdrunk!sakusa who throws your legs over his shoulders, hooks his arms under each of your thighs, then lifts your ass off the bed as he brings you flat against his face.

kissdrunk!sakusa who doesn’t just eat you out with his mouth, but his whole face. a dry, shocking scream would rip from your throat as your toes curl, feeling the bump of his nose as it rubs brutally against your clit, the pump and oddly talented thrust of his tongue inside of you, and the constant graze of teeth as he searches for anything he can latch onto.

kissdrunk!sakusa who will suck lewdly on your clit, not caring in the slightest of the excess of suction noises that make their way around the room.

kissdrunk!sakusa who will continue to pump his long, slender fingers in and out of your cunt, already having three in and swearing that you could fit one more.

kissdrunk!sakusa who will swallow up all of your juices, lapping them up thoroughly as he cleans you with his tongue.

kissdrunk!sakusa who will crawl back up your body and capture you in a bruising kiss, making sure to travel the lengths of your mouth with his tongue.

kissdrunk!sakusa who will finally pull away, and in a breathless but soft voice whisper: “you taste so good baby, please, let’s go one more time,” pleading for another taste of your pussy, completely high and fucked off the adrenaline.

everyone says that my omiomi is a clean pussy eater—if one at all, and i disagree. that boy is pussy starved and eats that shit out like he aint ever gonna see it again.

[slvttyplum]

heyy pretty, do you mind writing something for suguru and lace thigh highs🫣🫣🫣no pressure at all xx

totally not doing this because you called me pretty xx

suguru got a thrill from ripping your clothes; it just got a rise out of him whenever he heard the fabric ripping and having your smooth skin exposed for him to taste. his pockets would run dry from having to get you new clothes, but it was worth it every single time. 

you knew how much he liked to rip the clothes off of you to fuck you senseless, so you used it to your advantage, slipping on your black lace thigh highs for him to tear off. that's all you wanted, but you weren't expecting to get fucked to the point where your legs were numb and you couldn't walk.

once his eyes scanned your boys, a proper thought couldn't be formulated in that little head of his before he went over to you and bent you over. he wasn't going to do anything yet, he wanted to savor this moment. he wanted to take a look at those thighs of yours filling out those tights, sadness almost raining down on him when he realizes that he has to rip those off of you.

running his thumb over his bottom lip as he stares at the view in front of him, taking his finger and trailing it down your back to your ass, placing both of his hands on your ass, a smile on your face that you had to hide. he took the bait every fucking time; you would almost call it pathetic if he didn't fuck you like you stole something and made you cum all on his dick.

"stay just like that." slowly pulling out his dick with a tip that was smeared with pre-cum and covered in a light pink hue, practically begging to be put inside of you. a sight for sore eyes indeed, but there was another sight he would rather see, and before wasting another breath, he runs his hands over your ass one last time before pressing two of his fingers into the fabric roughly and his fingers going through. 

a sharp sound of the fabric ripping one second and being covered up by your moans in the other. his heart beating in his ears and more of his cum leaking out his tip, slipping inside of you, a sharp gasp as your eyes squeeze shut, pressing your teeth on your bottom lip, feeling him just slowly keep going deep inside of you. 

his hands roughly gripping your flesh, swallowing hard as he feels himself fill out your walls, your walls clenching around his dick. now this is where the narrator would go on about how he fucked you so good you got dizzy and passed out, which did indeed happen. he filled you out well and even finished inside of you, not letting one bit drip out, but because he fucked you so well that it happened repeatedly, he just couldn't stop.

a package almost every day of some new thigh highs and a smile on suguru's face begging you to wear them, but you didn't want to; he would fuck you and not stop; he had no restraint when it came to the things he liked during sex; if he had you do something one time that had him losing his mind, he wanted you to do it again and again until he was physically sick of it; this month was thigh highs, sexy thigh highs that didn't have the chance to live out a second wear.

the sound of him ripping them, following you through work. when you cooked or did anything, you heard the ripping of the tights that you wore. 

suguru was trigger-happy, his finger pressing the order button and his other finger pressing into the tights, making a hole, and his other pulling them apart. your wet, dripping core was staring right at him. this was a sweet treat for him, and he wasn't letting it

[bodhrancomedy]

8 Games Which Made Me Bawl My Fucking Eyes Out (in the best way)

1. A Story Beside

Holy hell, I think the fact I played this one when I was isolating with COVID and terrified my breathing issues were gonna be permanent probably added to my complete sobbing breakdown at the end of this.

Every single chapter is a beautiful gut punch and the ending sequence where you guide Lyric back through her story? Heartbreaking.

2. I Was a Teenage Exocolonist

This is probably one of my favourite games of all time and certainly one I’ve sunk the most hours into.

The fact that your first run-through is almost guaranteed to be full of failure and missed chances just adds to the pain I felt.

But the bug in the nursery. That’s what got me.

3. What Remains of Edith Finch

I’m not sure there’s anything I can say about this game which hasn’t been said already.

Each new room puts another knife in your heart as you pull apart the seams of the Finch family curse with Edith as the last survivor.

Gregory was the moment I had to take a break to compose myself.

4. Story of Seasons: A Wonderful Life

While I think this remake took some of the teeth out of the original, this farm sim which spans the life of your character is full of heartbreaking moments as you raise your child.

Honestly, being allowed to be queer and nonbinary in this game made me bawl because I remember wishing to both be a boy and love men in the older games.

5. Dragon Quest IV

I could add several of the Dragon Quest games to this list, but after fighting the final boss for nearly two decades, beating this game had me sobbing for hours.

That last scene of Chapter Five had such a tiny little animation of our hero taking off his sword and that send me over the edge.

6. Bramble: The Mountain King

I don't know where to start with this dark folktale of a game. From tragic monsters to absolute gut punches following great unsettling scares, this journey to save your sister as a scared child ripped my heart in two.

The hell Olle goes through for his protective sister is dear to my heart as a nervous little brother myself.

7. Citizen Sleeper

The very concept of this RPG is haunting. A construct on the run from the corporation who took your body is sad enough, but the express love of humanity which runs through this? Beautiful.

I'm not very far through and it's already had me in tears twice.

8. Outer Wilds

I don't think I can say a single thing about this game without completely spoiling it.

Go in blind, but be ready for heavy and sorrowful themes. All I'll say is when you hear the ending theme, have tissues ready.

[neo-percs]

BODY PARTY:: (Jung Jaehyun)

WARNING:: professional boxer! Jaehyun , blood, fighting, rough sex, marking, slight public sex, manager! reader, man handling, oral.

SUMMARY:: after yet another win for Jaehyun you insist on cleaning his cuts after a shower leads to the both of you celebrating in a completely different way than expected.

WORDCOUNT:: 5.8K

A/N:: my first actual post on this blog I’m actually excited, this was not revised at all so if there are any errors please do not MIND and if I miss any of the warnings please let me know😭🫶🏽.

You were front row watching Jaehyun, the smell of sweat and stale concession stand food almost made you feel nauseous if it wasn't for the way he was bouncing on the tips of his feet waiting for his opponent to tap gloves with him, clenching his teeth against his mouth guard showing off his prominent and sharp jawline.

Once and a while you could see his sharp eyes flicker from the referee and the guy he was facing. In the front row dressed all pretty, wearing one of the necklaces he had gifted to you and a cute small dress was you; his manager. He knew people didn't take him seriously because of how polite and pretty you were. They expected easy losses out of him, but if they saw how lenient you were during his training sessions or before his matches they'd understand you weren't just some airhead.

He watched as you gave him a bright smile and a thumbs up. He couldn't help the smirk on his lips. "Who's that? She's something ain't that right Jung?" His opponent laughed at the sly comment while his greedy eyes never left your figure. Jaehyun felt his brow twitch at the words "watch your mouth" he said sternly as he felt heat on his skin from sheer annoyance.

"That's your play thing Jung?" The man asks with a scoff, Jaehyun knew he was trying to be funny; trying to get to his head, but he's done this way too many times to even let it get under his skin. That wasn't going to stop him from ripping whoever this guy was apart and going back to his hotel with double the money he came in with. Not even bothering to answer him he knocks gloves with him and steps back while the ref signals the bell to chime.

You prepped Jaehyun for this, he knew what he was getting into when he signed to fight the boy who was about a year or two older than him, he was much newer to fighting in the ring which was just an advantage. But since Jaehyun had been doing this since he graduated high school he was much more experienced with the fighters, and the atmosphere. You could only count how many losses Jaehyun has had on one hand and you knew for a fact that Jaehyun wasn't going to fly all the way from Seoul to Brooklyn without putting in the work for a show.

The both of them circling around the ring with raised gloves nearing closer to exchange punches, and kicks. You could never understand how Jaehyun took a punch like it was nothing, almost like he enjoyed taking the hits, because it did nothing but push him to hit back harder. Jaehyun always knew how to get the crowd going, he would fight at least two rounds before absolutely running through his opponent until they gave up or it was a K.O regardless every time he did it he always had a crowd coming back for another fight.

He was on his 2 minute break in between rounds, the cutmen sitting him in his corner as he poured water into his hair and mouth letting the water spill into a metal bucket coming out pink, putting Vaseline on his cuts that were starting to bleed out. Jaehyun usually would've dropped his opponent by now, he was a shit talker and Jaehyun just let anything he heard go from one ear out the other, and it was usually the same bullshit.

'You can't fight' or 'your good looks won't save you' and Jaehyun never took it to heart because it's the same people talking that are being knocked on their ass and being wheeled back to their locker rooms. But this guy, no. He was bringing you into this, and Jaehyun had no reason to give him any remorse especially when he was being straight up vile and gross.

When they were both called back into the center Jaehyun could feel the sweat and water build up on his neck and shoulders. Jaehyun watches his opponent as if he was waiting for the right moment to send him to the ground, holding up his fist damn near ready to pounce on the guy who was just as tall if not a few inches taller than Jaehyun, blonde and tattoos all over his skin that nobody could miss.

Jaehyun couldn't miss the smirk on his lips as he sauntered towards him throwing sloppy and lazy punches that were barely even landing "you think your girl would wear that dress for me when I get her in bed?" He asked, huffing out almost slurring his words. Jaehyun could only clench his fist feeling a wave of straight anger wash over him completely. Cocking his hand back and letting one loose right to the center of the blonde's face he didn't stop as he saw him drop to the floor.

Straddling over his hips Jaehyun didn't hesitate to keep the hits going, one after the other people in the crowd almost shocked at how he wasn't letting up regardless of how you could tell the man under him was knocked out. "The fuck is he doing? He's gonna throw the match" you could hear Hyuck just a seat away looking almost stressed watching his friend use his opponent like a personal punching bag.

When the referee pulled at his shoulder Jaehyun finally pulled away with the deepest glare you've ever seen on his face, his gloves stained a crimson shade as he backed away from the unconscious and bloody man on the floor. Waiting to see if the man could beat a simple 10 count and get back to his feet but failed Jaehyun's hand was raised in all its glory as they announced his win.

The warm and sticky blood that gathered in small chunks at his hairline, and split lip, and dark bruises on the corner of jaw and the expanse of his back and shoulders began to bloom while sweat was dripping off his body. He stood in the middle of the ring as his publicity team swarmed in with congratulations and after party plans.

Leaving the small barricades that separated the crowd and the ring you find yourself going through the ropes and inside the squared ring filled with your coworkers and friends. Smiling as you near him, the copper smell of blood and hints of sweat filled your lungs as you can feel the mat underneath your feet shake from the jumping and cheering Jaehyun stood with a similar smile holding open his arms for you to hug him.

Regardless of his sweat seeping through the fabric of your dress or how warm all over you felt under his embrace you mumble words of encouragement "you did good, I'm proud of you. But you gotta stop losing your temper" you shake your head grasping his wrist that rested on your lower back comfortably.

Lifting over both of your heads you both face the crowd with smiles as you knew the both of your faces would be in the tabloids by the next morning, but from all the yelling and talking over other people you could feel a headache coming. Though it didn't matter much as you, Jaehyun, and the rest of your team decided to retreat back to his locker room.

Being stopped along the way by the press asking him questions, his heavy arm around your waist as he smiles and answers the simple questions, answering a few questions yourself as you hold Jaehyun's gloves under your arm you could feel his eyes practically burn through you when it was your turn to speak.

The both of you are making into the less busy locker room a few of his friends sticking around to make plans. Jaehyun sat on the padded bench as he looked at his taped up hands and wrist, he could feel dried up blood building up at his hairline and the small split on the middle of his lip starting to become sore.

You sit down beside him as Mark and Hyuck talk about plans of a dinner or a get-together later tonight in celebration, but you could tell that Jaehyun wasn't really listening. Your brows scrunch together as you see him picking at the tape trying to unravel it and his silence was slowly becoming apparent. "You guys wanna give us a minute? I'll call you if we need anything" you mumbled to them as they eye their friend worriedly the youngest nodded.

They retreat to the door "we're gonna head back to the hotel, if you do decide to go out tonight just give me a call" Mark mumbles before closing the door behind them. The silence in the room starts to get louder, your mouth opens but your words die in your throat seeing him finally getting the dingy tape off his skin and releasing a sigh.

Tossing the blood stained adhesive into the trash he walks further into his locker room towards his shower , you could hear the water hitting the tile and small grunts and winces of pain as he cleans off the blood and cuts off his body with soap and water. You space out for a while and let Jaehyun think in peace, you knew he would tell you whatever was on his mind sooner or later.

But once he finally finished showering you watched him walk back into the main area the cuts on his face still fresh and bleeding, it bugged you. His towel low on his hips, and his hair clean and messily slicked back with a few thin strands falling in his face. "You want me to clean your cuts so we can get out of here faster?" You ask quietly, watching him sit in a metal chair that sits in front of a long mirror. Shrugging at your question, you took your chance.

Opening the nearest locker you find a mini first aid kit, seeing everything you need inside you sit on the floor beside the leg of the chair and open a small pack of cotton pads, and rubbing alcohol. The smell alone made both of your faces scrunch as you lean close to his face attempting to find the cuts covered in dried blood.

"You wanna tell me why you beat that dude's face in?" You ask as you gently swiped away at the cut on the corner of his forehead that made him shut his eyes tightly at the stinging pain. "Doesn't matter," he said as his hands tightened around the edges of his seat. "It does if you almost threw a match because of it. I don't get why all of a sudden you're being your normal self, and next thing you know you are bashing his face in" you huff.

You and Jaehyun have gone over things with his anger and little to none patience, Jaehyun has moved past being provoked and talked down to, and ever since you've never seen him lose his cool like that up until now. "Even if it's something dumb, you know you can tell me right?" You ask as you discard the bloody cotton pad.

Sighing Jaehyun caves as he opens his eyes to meet your gaze "he was talking about you" he mumbled. His voice is gruff and frustrated, you can tell he was getting angry just rethinking about it. "What?" You were confused, what could have possibly set Jaehyun off about you? "He was talking about sleeping with you, just being disrespectful and shit" he rolled his eyes.

You scoff "you got mad about that?" You ask which makes his brows furrow at the question "of course I'm gonna get mad y/n, we work together. I know you personally, and I'm not gonna let somebody talk about you like that" he said, you could feel the heat radiating off of his skin as he spoke. "You shouldn't. You have more to worry about than some dude talking shit" you say picking up another pad and putting alcohol on it, you tilt his chin looking at his cuts.

"Well I do. I don't like when people talk about you in any way, you just do your job and you get shit on for no reason" he explains which makes you roll your eyes yet look to meet his gaze as you feel him stare into your soul. "It's a part of my job. I knew what I signed up for, even if you don't like it that's not gonna keep people from doing it. Don't get so worked up over it" you shake your head at him.

The silence in the locker room was becoming overbearing, holding a strong glare. Jaehyun was not listening to a single word you had to say, he didn't care if this was your job or not, you don't deserve that. His bruised hand reaching your jaw, his thumb drawing comforting circles on your skin "you don't deserve that, that's why I'm so worked up over it. You've been around since my first match, were roommates. I know everything there is to know about you, so why would I not get upset over shit like that?" He asks but more rhetorically.

"Your job is to fight Jae, not bash peoples heads in because of a stupid friend" you mumbled shaking your head showing your disapproval once more, you move his hand to clean up his cuts once more. "You're not just a stupid friend" he scoffs. "I am, the only thing I really do is look out for your schedule, your P.R interviews and shit. Nothing special" you let out a small chuckle under your breath. Standing him to your full height

Jaehyun's eyes never leave your face as he pulls at your wrist moving it away from his face, his hand that once cupped your jaw pulls you in, Jaehyun closing the remainder of space between you both as his soft lips press to yours. You felt like you had been shocked, you didn't move for what felt like seconds until you pulled away and blinked rapidly. "I don't want you to be just some stupid friend or manager to me" he whispered.

You huff out a sigh before leaning back in and pressing your lips to his, being more confident with your actions your hands find themselves raking through his hair tugging it softly, groaning against your lips.

Letting out a small groan, Jaehyun's hand makes way to the fabric of your dress, clutching it in his fist and pulling your hips closer against him sends him into a small daze.

His tongue now licking a stripe on your bottom lip begging for access, parting your lips, his tongue immediately brushing against yours, mixing your saliva. As you suck on his tongue the remnants of blood and mint. Realizing what the both of you are doing you pull away "we shouldn't be doing this" you say.

Your foreheads pressed together and noses grazing each other, Jaehyun shakes his head "I don't care about all of that right now" he slurs feeling the weight of the punches and kicks he had taken. Kissing at the corner of your lip smudging your lipgloss.

Jaehyun has always been professional with you, outside of work you two are like the best of friends, this was a line you had never thought to cross said line, but the feeling of his lips against yours made you feel fuzzy. You didn't care about the line anymore and both of you are now toppling over it. "I just want you" he mumbled as he pressed his nose against yours eye, clouded with an unknown feeling.

You smile lazily as you lean into him, giving him a chaste kiss. You both smile like kids as you pull apart. His hands trail from the bunched up fabric of your dress to your thighs pulling them apart "sit" he whispers making you nod and blink dreamily as you choke back a whimper at the sheer friction between his thighs and your pussy.

Arching your back until your chests press against each other, hands all over each other touching any part of each other that possibly could be in this position. Jaehyun couldn't help but grind up against you as the warmth of your core rubs against the throbbing bulge held behind his towel, the fabric running against the both of you earning a moan.

Pressing your lips against Jaehyun eager to steal ever last breath out of his lungs as your hands grip at his hair. Jaehyun doesn't hide his needs as his hands slide all around your body anywhere he could reach. Moaning against each others lips Jaehyun presses his forehead against yours as you both part panting against each other.

"You really wanna do this here?" He asks huskily turning you on even more. "I don't care if we did it in the car I just want you Jae" you whisper against his lips making him smile, feeling on top of the world at your response. Jaehyun knew his feelings for you were beyond just Manager and client, but he knew to never go beyond that. But right now... he really didn't give a damn.

Pulling the tight skirt of your dress over your ass until it bunches at the waist, his palms Slide Over the soft skin as your lace panties; wet and sticky cover everything he's craving at the moment. Groping and kneading the skin harshly making you moan as your hips press down against his once again, his hands guide you against his towel covered lap.

Biting your lip harsh enough you could almost break flesh. "You think you can cum like this for me?" He asks sending shivers up your spine thinking of rutting yourself against the brunette man until you hit your peak "mhm" you respond giving a small nod choking up your words with whimpers.

Your arms slink around his shoulder as you rest your head against the nape of his neck letting stimulation get the best of you. The fabric of your panties rubbing against your clit makes you feel utterly dizzy. "Just like that, you feel good?" He asks under his breath landing a harsh slap against your ass making you moan louder "feels so good" you whimper "you make me feel good jae" you moan as your hips recoil into his as the tension in your stomach grows.

Jaehyun could feel a wet patch of your slick deep through the towel over his hard cock making him bite his lip in satisfaction. He could see how much faster your hips are grinding into him showing how close you were to cumming, Jaehyun wraps his arms around your waist pressing your chest tightly to his as he grinds up against you.

The sound of the chair scraping against the concrete floors is almost background sounds to the both of you too wrapped up in getting your much wanted orgasm. "You're gonna make me cum" you whine as your eyes shut tightly and your eyebrows scrunch together "yeah? Do it" he says sternly making you shutter as your jaw slacks at the overwhelming feeling "fuck" you sob as your nails dig into Jaehyuns back.

Hissing at the feeling Jaehyuns hips come to a stop, his hands rub your thighs as they slightly shake. "You okay?" He asks with an airy laugh at your fatigued face that pulls away from his body "yeah, just give me a second" you whisper coming down from your high as the constant throbbing between your thighs starts.

Pulling yourself out of his lap your knees buckle feeling like jelly, you lower yourself fully until your knees press into the harsh concrete, not minding it much your hands trail over the white towel tucked around Jaehyuns waist, looking up at him with soft eyes "you don't have to do anything" he speaks up and it makes you smile. This was the considerate and caring Jaehyun you had always known, never selfish and always seeking just a smidgen of approval from anyone he could when he could.

"I want to do this with you, nobody else" you say as your fingers brush against the skin of his lower stomach as they hook over the tightly wrapped towel. You were eager, the new found feeling was overstimulating in all the right ways. Pulling the fabric away from his lap now completely exposed to the cold air Jaehyun shivers, he doesn't know if it's from excitement or the decrease in temperature but either way he felt like he was in heaven.

The way your hands travel over his thighs makes his breath get caught in his throat, your eyes rake over his body with a look he's never seen on your face but regardless he loves it. you wet the palm of your hands with your tongue before taking his cock into your fist, slowly jerking  and teasing the tip with your thumb.

His head falls back with no support from the chair he mutters out "fuck" as his hands grip at the towel underneath him. And when you finally put him in your mouth, finally swallow down the already there taste of him on your tongue—you both let out a moan. Can feel the top half of him shift like his head has fallen back, an image of his beautifully parted mouth hung open, eyes screwed shut in pleasure has you moaning against him again; your body on fire, your pussy aching.

You match the pumps of your hand with the drag of your mouth up and down his dick. Swirl your tongue around the head and suck when you reach it. Let yourself go as far as your gag reflex will let you until you're gagging around him and he's is cursing and digging his nails into the mattress once again.

And when you steal a glance to the side you can see how red his knuckles look from the death grip he has the towel. How his fingers twitch and hand runs along his thigh, acting as if he wants to touch you but not daring to. You steal another glance up at him, "oh fuck" tumbling from his lips when your eyes meet; he looks so desperate in the moment. He didn't want release he needed it, Jaehyun had never been a begging man but in the moment Jaehyun would do just about anything to cum.

you keep your nose pressed into the skin of his pelvis until you physically can't, pulling off of him with a loud pop. your cheek is wet with tears, and your chin is slick with spit, the two coalescing at the tip into a sticky mess.

the sight makes him twitch in your hand, because this is what he's been dreaming of. This was his selfish wish, to see you below him with this expression. eyes all doe-eyed and desperate. But it also doesn't take Jaehyun much time before he lets his eyes flutter shut his hips now slowly bucking into your mouth, groaning at the feeling of your throat closing around him tightly.

he can’t help but to reach out and rub the heavy pad of his thumb over your parting lips, pressing the salty digit flat against your tongue, and retreating it in the same breath to hook it around your cheek.

a string of profanities leave his lips. he’s close, and you can tell by the way he begins to fuck into your face with a slight roughness. to guide him there, you begin to hollow your cheeks and narrow your throat, using a single hand to massage his thigh digging your nails into his skin.

he can feel you start to get riled up, and when you start to scratch and claw at his thighs for air, that does it for him. with a final, lazy thrust, he releases the entirety of his load down your throat, keeping you pressed down on him until he’s sure every last bit has been spilled.

Pulling away slowly your breathing uneven and filled with small coughs and hiccups, your hand rests on his scratched up thighs, Jaehyun looks at you with nothing but lust. Your swollen lips, your mascara staining your cheeks, his hand cupping your jaw to bring you close his nose brushing against yours as your heavy breathing mixes with his.

“You’re so fucking beautiful” he grumbles as he presses his lips against yours harshly parting your lips with his tongue messily running yours against his. Slowly without breaking the kiss Jaehyun moves himself out of the chair, his own knees feeling a slight sting at the feeling. Guiding you down to your back as the kisses grows more hungry as he grinds his bare cock against your panties growing frustrated at the very little skin on skin contact, his hands settling on your upper thighs slither until his hands are underneath the fabric of your dress.

His fingers find the elastic band of your panties finally pushing them down your thighs and past your ankles where he recklessly tosses them out of his way to only who knows where. Your dress being the only obstacle left he pulls the zipper tugging your arms through the sleeves easily he damn near rips you dress off at the seems just to see your body in all its glory. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you not even for a second his eyes follow every dip and curve with the most adoration one could hold in their gaze and it makes you feel warm.

His eyes rake over you from top to bottom as his eyes latch onto the sight of your thighs glistening in slick. He hissed through his teeth absentmindedly his hand gently travels between your thighs as his thumb presses between your slit making friction with your sensitive clit making you whine at the feeling. His hand leaving your body he takes his length into his own hand gripping himself.

"You look so good like this" He says as he presses his tip against your slit teasingly sliding against it as it makes a slick sound as your essence covers his tip and shaft, dipping his tip into your entrance Jaehyun sucks in a deep breath as he pushes into you groaning at the feeling of your tight walls enveloping his tip.

Pushing deeper inside you he lets out a moan "fuck you feel so good" he says as he catches his bottom lip in between his teeth. "You're so big" you gasp, feeling how good he filled you up to the brim as you feel him begin to slowly move. Jaehyun couldn't get enough of the sight as his cock disappeared inside your pussy.

His cock buried deep inside you that you moan and your nails into the pillow your chest was pressed againstsetting a pace for bouncing against him. The feeling of your velvety walls tightening around making him choke back a moan.

"Oh- god" you whisper shakily. His hands holding onto your hips guiding a pace, the soft sound of skin slapping with your small moans could be heard throughout the room.

A small sheen of sweat on your skin and your makeup smeared while your ass bounced on his cock it was addicting. "You like being fucked like this?" He asks as he bucks his hips into your sharply.

Moaning at his dirty words and sudden surge of confidence your head falls into the palm of your hand muffling your sweet voice Jaehyun's palm sharply smacks your ass "Answer me" he says groaning as he soothes the stinging feelings on your warm skin.

"Mhm, I want people to hear how good you fuck me" you say lifting your head from the pillow as you bite your bottom lip hard as you hear how wet you are with each thrust he gave you.

Jaehyun; eager to let his load off inside you, holds your hips stopping you from bouncing any longer and begins to thrust his hips into you harder. The feeling of his tip pushing at your cervix.

His hips piston into you as your thighs and ass jiggle at the repetitive thrusts "right there" You moan as you feel him pounding in a certain part of your walls. You tighten around him as your essence forms a white ring around the base of his dick.

"Just like that, I just want you to cum inside me" you babble mindlessly as his stomach churns at the words spewing out. "Yeah? Want me to fill you up with my cum?" he groans as the knot in your stomach begins to tighten and his death grip on the fat of your ass almost sending you over the edge if it wasn't for how hard he was pounding you.

You nod eagerly as you begin to alternate between grinding and bouncing, your nails drag against his inner thigh leaving behind a red and irritated trail- yet he didn't mind it as it pushed him closer to his orgasm.

Leaning down to him your moans against each other's lips push you closer and closer. Your back arching even more as you move faster wanting to cum so badly "keep going. Don't stop" he groaned, letting his head fall back.

His hair messily pushed against his forehead as it was covered in sweat and his eyes rolled back "god I'm gonna cum" he says breathily as you grind back against him to meet his thrusts as the sticky sound of him pounding your sloppy pussy resides in the air of the locker room.

The room was warm and all you could care about was how good your best friend was fucking you. "You like having an audience to be fucked like a slut in front of huh?" He says as he grips onto your hips harder to stop your movement as he pounds into a spongy part of your walls.

His hair sticking to his forehead and his breath becoming heavier "I loved being fucked like a slut" you rasp as you hear his breathy laugh at your words desperate to feel release "good" he says as he fucks into you harder. "Tell me how much of a slut you are" he groans as his nails dig into your hips, "I'm such a fucking slut for you, god I'm your cockslut" you whine as his thrusts are deeper and sharp it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Pulling your back to his chest hitting an angle inside you that made you see white as your ass bounced into his lap your hands desperately thrash to grip your own thigh as a result of overwhelming pleasure.. "Oh fuck- just like that, You're gonna make me cum" he moaned deeply into the nape of your neck.

Letting out a string of whines you clench harder "I’m close" he moaned as he began to twitch inside you, his words buzzing in your ears making you grind against him eagerly "please let me cum" you beg as you turn your head over your shoulder to look at Jaehyun who was absolutely pussy drunk on the feeling of you.

"You gonna cum?" he asks as his hand falls between your thighs, his fingers press against your clit "You gonna fucking cum?" he asks rhetorically as his words slur, you nod as your breathing becomes uneven "do it" he says pushing you back down into the cold ground roughly gripping your hips and you were sure it would leave bruises his eyes roll back as he feels how you clench around him and let your orgasm washes over you, with a few more hard thrusts he would also be tipping over the edge to his orgasm moaning as his thick white strings of cum fills you up leaving your body feeling warm and fuzzy.

Fucking you both through your highs your thighs clench shut as overstimulation creeps up on you your moans began to come out choked which makes Jaehyun slow down his pace until his hips were no longer moving against yours.

Pulling out you both hiss, as his cum drips down your thigh Jaehyun chuckles at the sight almost wanting to use his fingers to fuck his cum back inside you but deems you're too fucked out. He pulls away completely standing on shaky legs walking off to the bathroom to grab a clean towel wet with warm water to clean you off. You breathe heavily, almost too lazy to pick yourself up looking at the mirror perched against the wall seeing how your face was most likely in it.

Your actions finally sink in. You hear the footsteps near you, Jaehyun walks back into the locker room he wipes you off rubbing small soothing circles into your thighs he wipes you down clean. Jaehyun would be sure you were getting treatment you deserve even if it wasn’t in the most romantic place.

After he takes care of you can hear "I'm sorry if I was being too rough," he says softly as he looks at you with soft eyes “don't worry about it. I like that stuff anyways" you say with a chuckle you roll over onto your side you look at your best friend "it felt good. No need to be sorry" you say waving him off. Jaehyun sighs in content, almost nervous that he had hurt you or took too much of his anger out on you.

“Get up, you need a shower before we go back to the hotel” he says rubbing your sore thighs. You bite back a groan as you think about actually having to leave your spot on the ground. Your body feeling sticky and covered in sweat, You cave sitting up. You press your hand to your sore back thinking about how harshly your back had been pushed against it. Jaehyun holds a hand out to you as he coaxes you into a warm shower.

You hadn’t thought about the fall out of the matter, you have in fact slept with your best friend, the person you live with, and spend every day with. You had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow but you didn’t let that thought sink in that much as well when Jaehyun’s more intimate with you, the lingering touches, the small pecks on your lips as he washes you up with the soap he had packed in his bag. The smell of him washes over you as you let all of your thoughts wash away with the soapy water down the drain of the shower.

You'd just have to worry about it another time.

[deathbyathousandspiders]

So imagine a fic based off the song "boy in the bubble" by Alec Benjamin where reader gets in a fight on the way home from school the one time she doesn't walk with Peter. Preferably have her father be Tony Stark and he'd take place of the mother in the story.

first, i wanted to say that i loved writing this and i love song prompts :) i hope you enjoy this !!

second, i want to apologize to the anon who told me i better not disappear for months because oops–

WARNINGS (18+ MDNI) — hurt reader, mentions of blood, mentions of pain/wounding, swearing.

✨masterlist✨.

3.6k.

Typically, stepping into your downtown apartment on a Friday evening would be more exciting for you. It meant that your week of stuck–up students and nerve–wracking tests could be long forgotten. It meant that you had the weekend to live freely from academic cages. At the beginning of that day, you would’ve thought today would be like any other Friday; with Peter accompanying you and your father for dinner like every week.

But Peter didn’t walk back with you.

Your tired limbs ripped from the floor with every step, hobbling out of the elevator with as much grace as you had room to carry. That room was slim, making space for the array of bruises and blood tainting your clothing. You carried the last bit of dignity you could, and tried to replace the sinister words spat at you from your attacker:

“What a weak, pathetic excuse for a Stark.”

See, till now, you’d been grateful to be excused from the attention and popularity that accompanied your title. You didn’t care for followers or anything that catered to your birthright. Your father was your best friend, and you were lucky to be a Stark just to have his light in your life. However, there were some who weren’t like your classmates or peers — people who hated the Stark name, and wouldn’t rest until the family name died at their hand.

Tonight, you’d met the first of who knows how many. The thought alone sent a serpent–like shiver down your body.

And Peter wasn’t with you.

The fumes of Tony Stark’s cooking filled your senses as you limped further into your family room. You consciously knew you were late for dinner, but the pain throbbing throughout your body put that knowledge on the back burner. The sunset was just beyond the apartment windows, and it made you wonder whether Peter had beaten you to your own house or not. It was 6:48 after all, he was bound to be there.

You’d nearly forgotten that the subtle ping of the elevator doors announced your arrival. You heard your dad set down his spatula. “You kids are late.” He greeted, hollering from the kitchen. “I hope you two didn’t stop for Delmar’s on your way back!” You processed the undertones as your knees gave out, left hand pressing into the top of the sofa back.

White knuckles gripped onto your couch as you tried to gain your balance, wincing through gritted teeth. Your right arm remained hugging your abdomen, palm pressed onto a sore–spot on your torso. Every fiber in your body ached for some sense of relief. To sit down. You were a bit too stubborn for your own liking, trying to hike up the steps and get to your room without being spotted—

“Jesus Christ!” Your father cried from the archway of the dining room. You heard his hurried steps across the hard–wood flooring, almost too nervous to meet his eyes. He made his way over quickly, and the first thing you noticed through your periphery was the ‘kiss the cook’ apron he kept tied around his waistline. “Kid, what the hell happened?” Your dad crouched down beside you, finally locking eyes with you.

The cold air hitting your eyes made you realize just how quick the tears were welling. You swallowed the lump in your throat, whether it was sobs or embarrassment or dried blood from thrown punches. “I was jumped.” Your bottom lip trembled a bit before you mustered the words out.

Your dad scanned over your body, eying just how tattered your clothes were, and how much blood painted your outfit. His eyes glistened with a parental look— a look shimmering with something mixed of worry and sadness and anguish and apology. “And Peter wasn’t with you?”

That confirmed that your best friend, in fact, had not beaten you to your apartment.

And for some reason, it made things all the more worse. Your jaw clenched a bit, both of concern and frustration. Disappointment nagged at the corners of your lips as you shook your head. “No, he said he’d meet me here later.” Your imagination got the best of you, replaying your evening but if Peter actually had been with you. The thought alone made you shutter. “But it was probably for the best.”

“Did he say what he was doing?” The look in his eyes said something that he wasn’t communicating. They said something unspoken that made you feel like there were things that you weren’t being told.

You ignored it, feeling a surge of pain in your abdomen. A quiet hiss fought its way up your throat. “He didn’t. But it’s fine.” No, it wasn’t. “Peter can’t throw a punch to save his life.”

A laugh actually left your father’s lips. “You’d be surprised.” He muttered, his tone speaking the same tongue that his eyes were. There was definitely something that you didn’t know, but your intuition couldn’t place its finger on what.

It wasn’t your fault that you were oblivious to your best friend’s vigilante status. You were kept in the dark about what web–slinging activities Peter Parker kept behind closed doors. Tony and Peter kept it secret that you were best friends with Spider–Man. They hadn’t let the news slip yet, and Tony wasn’t about to. They both agreed it was in your best interest to keep you safe.

Apparently, their efforts weren’t enough.

Your eyebrow rose, trying to cut through the bullshit. “Are you kidding, Dad?” You asked, maintaining eye contact as your father rose from his crouched position beside you. “It’s Peter Parker we’re talking about here. He wouldn’t even kill a fly.”

Tony’s hands creased his hips, shoulders shrugging gently with his response. “I don’t know, hon. He told me May had him take Karate years back.” He didn’t leave time for a response as his eyes trailed back down to the developing bruises along your arms. Seeing the crusting crimson on his daughter’s body was a sight that made him lose his appetite. “I’ll go grab my medical kit. You’re lucky that Pepper taught me a thing or two before she got promoted.”

The room fell quiet as Tony put pause on dinner and soon rushed back over with a first–aid kit. You didn’t want to stain any furniture, so you managed to sit on a wooden coffee table until you were given further instruction.

It didn’t take long before your mind wandered off to worry about Peter, and what could be keeping him so long. He did tell you before you’d parted ways that he’d join you guys for dinner? Right? You swore that he told you he’d be there by 6:30, and even you were late. Thinking back to the details made you recall some harsh memories. Your wounds throbbed at the recollection of how they came to be, and the blood that was shed, and the words that were spat…

“What a weak, pathetic excuse for a Stark—”

“We should call Bruce.” Your dad’s voice of concern and reason brought you back to the moment. All you could do was stare. You hadn’t noticed that he’d started to examine your wounds, or just how defeated and pained for you he was.

The look made your stomach twist at the insults your own self–critic threw back at you.

Before you knew it, you were standing up, choking back a wince, fighting against yourself. “No! No– it’s just a few scratches. It’s fine.” Was it? Even though the pain was searing, and you wobbled as you stepped to the bathroom. Clearly your father was overreacting. He had to be. You weren’t weak.

Tony followed your footsteps, treading close behind in case you were to trip. “Hon, I’m serious! You look like you went through a paper shredder!”

You looked at him with a grimace, disbelief shone in your eyes. Almost as if he were calling you pathetic. “Don’t make it so intense! I’m sure it’s—” You halted. Everything froze. The air sucked right back into your lungs at the sight of your bloodied figure in the mirror. Flicking on the light, you couldn’t breathe.

The color palette that covered your body could’ve painted an entire canvas worth; the shirt you wore was hanging onto your shoulders with two threads and a miracle, not to mention the slashes at the thighs of your jeans. You’d nearly forgotten that your attacker had such a thick knife until you saw it— saw yourself. A shiver snaked down the length of your spine, leaving a splintering chill behind it.

It wasn’t until Tony turned off the bathroom light that you’d realized you were staring at yourself. He carefully grabbed your hand, leading you back into the living room. “We don’t have to call Bruce, but can I at least clean you up a bit?”

You didn’t have the words to respond to him. A nod was all you could muster before he sat you back down at the coffee table. “Should I– uh.. Should I shower first?”

Tony shook his head beside you. “Until I figure out if you need stitching, no.” He went to investigate the damage, but hesitated, trying to navigate an approach. “Sweetheart? You decent enough to take your shirt off? I could grab you a blanket if that would help–”

But before your dad finished his thought, you went to try and peel off your shirt. It was a lot more difficult than you thought. Painful, too. You were cold and hot and sweaty and sticky and pins and needles dug their way into your limbs each time they moved. You were grateful your dad didn’t even pause before assisting you. He grabbed his medical scissors, snipping off the sleeves of your top.

You and your dad were really comfortable with one another, so this didn’t bother you. You were more blinded by the burns and the harshness to each ache and blemish coating your limbs and torso. Daggers upon daggers of pins and needles sunk into your flesh, yet it hurt you the most to know that you had to present yourself so battered and bruised to your dad. It made you feel so…useless. So…pathetic.

A minute of silence passed, filled with nothing but pity and the sear in your eyes, holding back tears. You wanted to be strong. You needed to be strong. Showing weakness would mean that your attacker was right. Your throat burned, swallowing hard and pushing back your damaged narrative. The feeling of how feeble you felt.

The subtle ping from the elevator made your blood run cold. Your head snapped up to look at who entered the apartment, eyes wide and teary when they met the pair of Peter Parker. And the second he jogged out of the elevator, he stopped dead in his tracks. He gasped quietly, staring back at you with the same gaping eyes.

You didn’t see the way Tony glared at Peter from beside you, but you felt the way he’d stopped inspecting you. Peter walked closer, taking cautious steps as he minimized the distance. “What happened?” His voice was gentle, perhaps because he noticed the tears coating your cheeks.

Wiping your eyes, you realized your hands were trembling. Your whole body shook from the endured trauma, and you shivered like you were in the midst of a blizzard. Had you been shaking that whole time? You didn’t have time to overthink it. You felt like you were being whisked away into a whirlwind of panic.

Tony stood up, his expression crossed with some unspoken irritation. “I need to finish dinner.” His words were short. “Kid, could you help patch her up? She mainly just needs disinfectant.” There was no room for response from Peter before your father started walking. You didn’t see him leave, but you felt the gentle kiss he placed on your head before he left one final comment with Peter:

“And you and I are going to have a talk later.”

You weren’t sure what was going on with the two. Quite frankly, you weren’t sure what was going on in general. Shaking like this, being emotional like this, it was far from anything you were used to.

It felt like you were being violated, forced open, naked— and that wasn’t just because you were without a shirt. You felt exposed, and you couldn’t hide anymore. There was nowhere you could go and nothing you could do to shield from the fact that you were vulnerable right now.

Peter sat in front of you, kneeling so that you could see him. So that he could see you. “Hey..” His voice got soft, gentler, and somehow it broke you. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth to try and stop the way it shuttered. Metal lingered on your tongue and your throat felt hollow and thick with the cries you held back. But Peter was your best friend, and he knew you.

He knew how stubborn you were with your own emotions, and how guarded you kept yourself from showing that part to other people. He knew that you couldn’t hide forever, either. And maybe he’d figured that out when his right hand went to cradle your face, and the tears finally washed away the walls you’d been keeping up.

Somehow seeing him safe was your undoing. The downfall of the avalanche you’d been hobbling in attempt to support, but you couldn’t seal the dam anymore. The relief of knowing that Peter was unharmed, the ease to all your worries, it made you forget why you’d been trying to stop your tears in the first place.

Your body broke out into violent shivers the second you let it, and your shoulders shook with every sob. Peter didn’t say anything. He merely took you into his arms and held you to him, careful not to press against any wound. It terrified you to think about what would’ve happened had Peter walked home with you, unbeknownst to you that he probably would’ve protected you from any of this happening in the first place.

It took you a minute or two to cry it out before Peter set you back on the coffee table. It seemed effortless to pick you up, and that made you realize just how strong he was. Your dad was right, Peter did surprise you.

Peter knew exactly how to mend these kinds of wounds, too. Where did he learn? It might always be a mystery. Still, it came in handy now. He draped his zip–up jacket over your shoulders, before dabbing a cloth of rubbing alcohol against every cut on your torso. He was so focused. Tensed jaw and creased eyebrow, not wavering for a second until you gained the courage to ask him a question. You took a shaky breath.

“Peter?” You murmured, immediately grabbing his attention. Peter glanced at you, the cold glisten in his focused stare began to thaw when he did. He took a breath, perhaps needing to be broken from the train of thought he’d started to entertain. With his attention, you took another breath, nervous.

Your fingers gripped the edge of the coffee table with white knuckles. If you’d been any stronger, maybe you’d broken the table, or even your fingers. “Do you.. think I’m–” You had to suck in another chunk of air just to muster out that taunting, despicable word. “Weak?” Even in your efforts to say it straight, your voice broke in an instant.

Without a beat, his eyes met yours again and he stopped everything he was doing. “Weak?” He repeated back. “No.” The word was so instantly rejected, you’d almost felt stupid bringing it up in the first place. “You’re so far from weak, Y/N. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

Your hands went to hide your face, too ashamed of how quickly you broke before him. From the solitude behind your fingers, you couldn’t see the way Peter also broke at the words. He wasn’t sobbing as you were, but he couldn’t help the sulking of his shoulders. Peter truly blamed himself for this. Setting down the rag, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrists. “Anyone who thinks you’re weak is blind to who you are. That, or they’re fucking stupid.” He spoke softly, pulling your hands from your face.

“You’re the most courageous person. The amount of bullshit you put up with, and the reporters you call out– Fuck, I can’t even imagine walking away from a fight like you did tonight..” His words of endearment warmed your heart. “You’ve seen the unthinkable, are still going, and you think you’re weak?” He shook his head. “Impossible.”

You and Peter stared for a beat or two before he stood up, carefully helping you to your feet. “I think you’re all set to shower. Do you want me to walk you upstairs?”

Taking a breath, you took Peter’s words to heart. You got this. “I think I’ll be okay.” Ignoring the shakiness in your voice, you took paces to the stairwell. “If I’m not back in thirty, you have permission to make sure I didn’t pass out.”

Peter cracked a small smile at you, “Noted. Text me if you need anything!” He added the offer, to which he saw you nod to, and he caught a glimpse of your timid smile. He knew you’d be okay, but it still didn’t shake the weight of how to blame he was. The sound of Tony clearing his throat from the kitchen only seemed to remind him. And with a second clearing of his throat, Peter realized that Tony was trying to communicate.

Walking into the kitchen, Peter saw Tony leaned back against the counter, arms crossed with a cold stare. “Mister Stark, I–”

“Where the hell were you tonight?”

The tone changed the entire atmosphere. No amount of savory fragrances from the cuisine could take away from the fact that Peter was in trouble.

Peter’s shoulders squared at the intensity carried with Tony’s aggravation. He took a breath, pausing in the doorway. “Sir, there was an armed–”

Tony’s fist met the marble counter in a startle. “Damn it, Pete!” Kid couldn’t get a word in if he tried. “Damn it, you had one job!” His index finger went up to emphasize his point.

“What was I supposed to do??” Peter felt like he was fighting a losing battle. “I had no idea what was going to happen!” In the midst of his hushed defense, his voice broke a bit from the weight of his guilt. “Mister Stark.. I think it’s time we tell her.”

A scoff was what Peter was met with. A rush of air caught on Tony’s disbelief, throat, and dismissal. “We’d tell Y/N what? That you’re Spider–Man? That we’ve been lying for this long?”

It was a tough call, and Peter knew that. Peter also knew that Tony couldn’t keep this shit up any longer than he could. “She deserves to know!” He planned to plead his case. “Whoever attacked her tonight planned this. It wasn’t by chance, she was targeted–”

“You don’t know that—”

“And you don’t either!” Peter wasn’t about to get cut off again. He let out some of the steam he’d began to bottle. “The way she’s acting.. Something’s off about what happened. And I think she deserves to know why I wasn’t there to defend her tonight.”

As much as the two had raised their voices, or grown to anger, they let the reality of the evening sink into the space between them. The thickened air sat within the walls as they both took a breath and collected themselves. Tony’s expression melted, and he finally reached over to turn off the stove.

Dinner was almost ready.

The back of Tony’s hips met the marble countertop behind him, supporting his weight as he crossed his arms, looking at Peter sympathetically. “Look, kid. I don’t blame you for what happened tonight.”

A weight or two instantly lifted from Peter’s guilty–conscious. “I know.” He lied.

Tony’s lips curled ever so slightly at the hasty quip. “As much as I agree with your conspiracy theories on Y/N’s attacker, I don’t know if coming clean about everything will solve this.”

There was a subtle sinking to Peter’s mending optimism. “Then when do you plan to tell her?”

A pause. Tony sighed, releasing a breath he’d been holding since Peter’s spider bite. “I don’t know..” Genuinity. Tony’s paternal protocol kicked in, and he wasn’t sure how to navigate it entirely.

On the one hand, his daughter deserved to know the truth. You deserved to know the truth. His wisdom and knowledge was such a curse when it came to fatherhood, because while being honest was what his role as a father called for, logic came right back to remind him of just how many lies were piled on top of each other. What if there was no coming back from this?

Tony shrugged, appearing more open to the idea of being truthful. “I’ll tell you what.” He started, “You tell me how you’d suggest telling Y/N you’re Spider–Man, and I’ll consider it–”

“Peter’s what?”

Ice. The room turned to ice too quickly, both Tony and Peter snapping their heads to look at you in the doorway. They hadn’t noticed you’d been listening. You’d been standing there for who knows how long, considering that you hadn’t even showered yet.

Both of the men in front of you exchanged glances of sheer panic before Tony cleared his throat to get your attention. He held up the frying pan, looking you dead in the eyes with the most false–confidence you’d ever seen your father carry.

“Dinner’s ready.” His voice cracked.

Yeah, there was absolutely no coming back from this.

[bunnys-kisses]

some women don't want the bear

john 'soap' mactavish

cw: smut/pwp, predator/prey, cnc, roleplay/fantasy, forest sex, messy sex, unprotected sex, after care, gunplay, degrading language, dirty talk, (partially) clothed sex, pussy slapping, filth (!!!)

bunny says! reblogs, tags & comments feed the rabbit!

you never really thought about scotland having forests. you always imagined the rolling plains and large cows. not dense forests as you hastily ran pass trees and tried not to trip over roots.

your heart was racing, your breathing ragged. you needed to get away from the man in the woods. he had found you cabin for the week and had tried to get his way inside. the only way for you was out the door and into the forests before he could harm you.

"shit, shit, shit." you panted as you tried to get further into the forest, only getting more lost. you felt panic all of as you ended up in a clearing.

you wanted to scream for help, but no one would hear you. you were a lost little thing, all alone in the woods with a big scary man. a man who wanted to take you apart.

your knees felt weak as you looked around, the afternoon light shined through the thick foliage of the trees. you eventually crumbled to your knees like a dying deer when you heard the snap of a twig nearby. you quivered and whimpered when the heavy footsteps came closer.

you felt yourself be yanked by the hair and forced to look up at the man in front of you. you bottom lip wobbled, "please don't kill me, sir."

he chuckled and tapped his pistol to your nose, "cute. i don't like 'em dead, bonnie. i like 'em when they struggle." then pressed the gun to your lips, "c'mon. be a good little whore and suck. or i'll find another way to get this thing wet." his eyes cast down to your lap.

you carefully licked the gun and the intruders eyes were on you. his blue eyes gleamed like sapphires, full of danger. you never got his name as you continued to suck off his gun.

you prayed it wasn't loaded.

"pretty girl for me." he said, "bet you're popular with the boys at uni." he laughed before he used his other hand to comb his fingers through your hair, "don't worry about that. once i get my seed planted in ya, you'll be too tired to think about other boys while you're chasin' my boys around." he pinched your cheek, "hard to finish school when you're nursing one babe and pregnant with another." he chuckled.

you hated how hot it felt. it flooded your core and made your face hot all over. your heart raced as you continued to lick the weapon.

his words kept coming, "you, me and our little mission to repopulate that big cabin you were staying in. you were tempting me with that, one woman doesn't need that many rooms. you were hoping i'd come and give you an excuse to fill 'em up. better i come and seed that little cunt of yours before a big bear or something comes and does it instead.' he laughed at the improbability of that.

you looked up at him, your eyes gleamed in the afternoon light and it made the intruder's cock twitch in his pants. he patted your cheek a little harder than you liked before he wanted you to have the real thing.

he tossed the weapon to the side and pushed you down onto your back. he got on top of you and he could feel the heat of your core through those thin tights. he didn't give it much time before he ripped the cheap fabric at the crotch, followed by your panties ending up in tatters too at the seam.

"good hold you got there, bonnie." he purred, "a nice tight little cunt that i'm gonna enjoy ruining." he chuckled as he sank two thick fingers into your sweet puffy hole. he sank in like a hot knife cut butter, "oh, someone's a little whore, huh? do you let all the big scary men of the forest fuck you? or am i just special." he smiled with all teeth and you felt wetness grow between your legs.

he crowded your space, his weight on top of you kept your pinned. you weren't as strong or as big as him. he was muscular with a mohawk and a tattoo. you could already feel his length pressing against you through his jeans.

he was going to split you in half with that thing!

"ya want it, bonnie? do you want me to fuck you raw. ruin you for any other man so much so that another man could even breed you. get that pretty cunt addicted to my cum." he patted your pussy before he sank his fingers back into you, now using his thumb to play with your clit.

you sent electricity through you, you tried to find some support from the forest floor to get yourself out from under him. but there was no escaping him. you were going to be bred by this monster.

you wanted to hit him, but he was a bulk of solid muscle. you would break your hands before you made any dent in him. you laid there and kicked out your legs but you were pinned under him.

he took his fingers out of your slick pussy and licked your wetness off of them letting out a soft moan, you tasted so good. he said, "a wife's gotta taste good, even when heavy with bairn." then placed a broad hand on your stomach as he got his cock out of his blue jeans.

the birds chirped and the sun beamed down on you as you laid in the mess of leaves and twigs. you could feel the man's heavy gaze on you. you swallowed at the sight of his cock, it was thick. you swore his balls were heavy, ready for breeding.

he kept his hand on you as he guided his cock into your sweet, slick pussy. he groaned a little bit as he pushed into you. your pussy felt so good enough his cock.

he chuckled, "where have you been all my life?" his pace skipped pleasantries and soon he was bullying it deep into your womb, "a pretty little thing to breed and keep. you, me and a bunch of babies." he was so large compared to you, you couldn't fight him off. he looked like a military man, even if you could get out from under him, he would stalk you through the forest. he groaned, "you're so good for me, lettin' me use that sweet cunt of yours. i'll keep this little cunt." he patted it before he gave it a firm slap.

you panted and squirmed under him, a fruitless attempt as he fucked you with a fury that you couldn't find words for. his cock felt like it was in the back of your throat.

the harshness of his thrusts made your head spin as you gripped onto him and tried to get him off of you. but he wasn't going anywhere, he was too busy having his cock into you. he wasn't going anywhere until he was finished with you.

you were his now.

regardless the pleasure coursed through you and the pace made you hot all over. the feeling was overwhelming and you knew you wouldn't last long. you panted and moaned, your entire body was burning from the intense pleasure.

"please." you whimpered.

"what?" he asked, curious what you had to say.

"please don't kill me." you whimpered.

"no, no.. shh, shh. no way." he said, his voice overly sweet, "i would never. now c'mon, bonnie. cum for your husband." as he continued to thrust up against you cunt.

you then gripped onto the forest floor as best as you could and arched your back. you then climaxed. you felt your body betray you as your pussy clenched around him as you it all became too much. you felt like an animal being bred in the forest. "fuck." you gasped.

"so good. fuck, i'm gonna ruin that little pussy. don't worry, bonnie.

he spurted inside of you with a heavy grunt before he slowed to a stop. his heart hammered in his chest as he admired the sight of you. he gave you pussy a firm slap before he pulled out.

"good girl." and after that, the little roleplay ended. and the man you loved came back. he got you in his arms as he kissed at your face, you were still in a state of bliss as your orgasm still came through you.

johnny then picked the twigs out of your hair, he got his jacket around your shoulders. he may have gone a little over kill with ripping your leggings and panties. but you were safe with him now.

"did you like that?" he asked as he rubbed your shoulders before he helped you onto your shaky legs. he'd carry you if he had to, that what was what a husband did for his wife.

even if she wanted to have crazy, kinky forest sex during their honeymoon. but he'd have to admit, it did excite him too. using those skills of his to good use. so before he picked you up and brought you back to the cabin for some nice tea and food, he waited to give him a response.

you looked up at him, as if your cheek was scraped from the debris on the forest floor. your eyes gleamed, almost excitingly as you said, "can we do that again sometime?" <3

[callme-holly]

Hii!! I love your blog <3 Can I request a Johnny Cade x fem!reader who’s a soc but is really nice to him and the gang? I prefer if they met in school!

"𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮…" [𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐱 𝐬𝐨𝐜!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - not entirely sure how I feel about this... it's a little all over the place and I apologise for that but, hey, I tried. I might revisit it in the future and edit it. Not proof-read!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 2.1k words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mild swearing, Dally being Dally, and Johnny Cade being a total sweetheart <33

You were the last person Johnny Cade expected to find himself falling for. 

You were everything that he wasn’t; gentle, pure, honest. You stuck to the right side of the tracks, never looking for any sort of trouble or conflict, content with what you knew was right and proper. You had money and a place to call home,  parents who cared for you, and, most importantly, you had your whole life laid out in front of you on a silver platter. You were everything Dally had instructed Johnny to avoid in a girl, telling him that he'd only wind up getting hurt if he associated himself with you. 

“You'd be better off without her, man,” Dally had warned, a cigarette between his lips as he fumbled with his lighter. “Girls like that only want one thing and once they’ve got it, they kick ya to the curb and leave ya to the dogs.” 

Johnny frowned, breaking his gaze away from where he had been watching you instead of the movie being projected onto the screen in front of him. The way you smiled and the way your head tipped back when you laughed... it was all so perfect to him. It seemed impossible that someone like you would do such a thing, and Johnny told his buddy just that. 

Dally had laughed at him, earning a few harsh glares from the people sitting around them. 

“She's a soc, Johnny,” Dally said, voice quieting down as he took a drag from his cigarette. “She doesn’t give a shit about anyone but herself.” 

“Yeah,” Johnny mumbled, picking absently at his nails. “You're probably right…”

Dallas scoffed. “Probably? I am right, man,” He nodded to the movie, kicking his feet up on the chair in front of him. “Now, eyes on the screen. I didn't sneak you in here for you to just stare at some broad. You fall for her, you’re gonna get your feelings hurt.” 

But it was already too late, and Johnny couldn't take his eyes off of you as you moved past him in the halls to get to your locker. You looked perfect and he was so transfixed by you that he hardly noticed the group of socs approaching him until one of them grabbed a hold of his shoulder, their grasp a little harder than was probably necessary. 

The touch was enough to make Johnny jump, and his attention was quickly drawn away from you and to the boys surrounding him. 

“You got a staring problem, grease?” One of them asked gruffly, his face twisted into an unpleasant scowl. Johnny recognized him as one of the boys who had given Dally a rough time a little while back; apparently he still hadn't learned his lesson. 

He shook his head, eyes flicking down to his beat up converse. “Nah,” he murmured quietly, shifting uneasily from foot to foot as the boys loomed over him, circling him the same way a group of vultures would a dying animal.  They looked as though they could rip him apart, tear him limb from limb right in front of the entire school, not caring who saw them or what consequences they would face, if any at all. 

Johnny shivered, suddenly feeling very cold and very out of place. He stood up a little straighter. “I’m good, really.” He looked anywhere but them. “No problem here…” 

The boys snickered. The one holding his arm tightened his grip even more, leaning closer to him. “If there's no problem then why are you staring at my girl, huh?” 

Johnny froze. “Y-your girl?”

“Yep,” The guy smirked, his teeth bared in a grin that was anything but friendly and Johnny wanted nothing more than to turn and flee.  

Footsteps caught his attention, a new sound to add to the din of the hall, and he lifted his head up, expecting to see another soc ready to give him hell… But, what he found instead was you, a frown gracing your features, hands placed firmly on your hips. 

“Let him go.” 

Your tone left no room for arguments and the boys all paused, sharing glances between them, before the first one released Johnny, sending the dark-haired greaser stumbling backwards with an unceremonious shove and a look of pure disgust. 

Johnny stood frozen, watching you carefully as you stalked towards him. The boys made way for you easily, stepping aside with a mocking bow of respect before walking away, casting wary glances towards you as you neared. 

The dark haired boy swallowed, trying hard not to shrink beneath your gaze. It felt wrong for someone like you to be standing up for someone like him, and he hated that he was somehow deserving of your kindness. 

“You okay?” Your soft concern broke through the haze of fear that clouded his mind, making his shoulders sag in relief.

He nodded slowly, heart thudding in his chest as your gaze softened a little more. The way your brow crinkled as you watched him only served to remind him how gone he truly was for you. God, what was he thinking? A pretty girl like you wouldn't dare look twice at some scrawny, no good greaser like himself. 

Your hand reached out and he barely registered you touching him before he jumped again at the sudden contact, causing you to recoil almost instantly, your arm dropping to your side. Your eyes widened in surprise, and Johnny tried not to wince at the sight. 

“Sorry,” You mumbled, turning away and shuffling your feet nervously. “I-”

“No, no.” He quickly interjected, trying desperately to salvage whatever small amount of dignity he might have left. “It's fine... ya just startled me…” He trailed off, unable to continue on after his blunder. The words sounded lame, even to his own ears, and he felt his cheeks flush red in embarrassment. He was making himself look like a complete fool in front of you, and he hoped beyond hope that he hadn’t scared you off. 

You bit your lip, nodding silently. 

“You sure?” You asked tentatively, and Johnny gave you a smile despite his best efforts.

“Yeah, man, don't worry 'bout it.” 

Silence stretched between the two of you, and Johnny was almost afraid to speak in case he said something wrong, something stupid. You were beautiful, but what was he supposed to say to someone like you? He didn't know how to interact with you. Hell, he was fairly certain you didn't even know his name. How pathetic was that? 

He let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding, looking down at his shoes once more, finally opening his mouth to say something, anything, however, you beat him to it. 

“You hang around with Dallas Winston, don’t you?” 

Johnny gave a slow nod in response, unsure on what Dally had to do with all of this. Had he said something to you? God, please say he hadn’t told you anything… 

You let out a small hum, glancing down at your own shoes and then back up. “You don't seem like the type to hang out with guys like him. You're too nice.”

Johnny blinked. “Nice?” He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head slightly. “You don't even know me... For all you know, I might be as bad as Dally.” 

You laughed softly. “Maybe, maybe not.” Your expression grew more serious as you spoke, eyes locked on his. “But something tells me there’s more to you than people make out.” 

Johnny stared blankly at you, not really knowing what to say in response. There didn't seem to be any malicious intent behind your words and the softness with which you said it filled him with a strange sense of comfort. He wondered briefly if you were making fun of him, mocking him for his background, besides, you were you. You had no right to be talking to someone like Johnny Cade. He was practically a nobody in the grand scheme of things; he couldn't possibly compare to the other Socs in terms of looks. He wasn't rich, or popular... he was just... plain old Johnny.

And yet you were still standing up for him…

Before he could dwell on it any longer, the bell rang overhead, cutting the tension between the both of you short, and you glanced upwards, catching Johnny’s eye once more.

“I should go…” Your tone was hesitant, and he nodded once more, biting his lower lip.

“Right..”

For a moment, you just looked at each other, and he wondered whether he'd ever get the chance to talk to you again. Would you even spare him the time of day after this? Probably not.

He watched as you turned on your heel, starting back towards your locker before abruptly stopping and spinning around once more.

“I'll see you around, Johnny Cade.” And with one final smile in his direction, you were gone, swept up into the crowd of rowdy high schoolers that flooded the halls, leaving Johnny alone. 

The greaser stood stock still, breath caught in his throat, as a small tentative smile crept its way onto his face. 

She knew his name... 

After that first encounter, it became near impossible for you to avoid Johnny Cade. 

It seemed that wherever you went, he was there too, and before you knew it, the pair of you had formed what could only be described as a sort of strange friendship. He always managed to find you, no matter the place, and when he needed to escape from his family for a little while, he found himself going to you. You didn’t mind, of course, in fact, you quite enjoyed being around him. He was calm, grounded, respectful; you appreciated that about him as much as anything else. He seemed to open up to you too. He would go on for hours about his friends and how he loved them more than his real family, how his parents seemed to never stop arguing, and how the Socs treated him inside and outside of school. He confided in you about his problems, sometimes crying, sometimes getting so angry that you were forced to hold him close until he calmed down, whispering soft words of reassurance to him as he sobbed into your shoulder. 

He trusted you, not because you were kind and gentle, but because he could tell by your eyes that you genuinely cared for him and that scared him. What could you possibly see in someone like him? Was he even worth anyone's affection? Why did you waste your time worrying about him and wanting to help him? How could anyone care about someone so worthless?

The first person he had mentioned you to was Ponyboy. He had told him everything once night at the lot  and, although he had tried, his friend was unable to hide the surprise written across his face.

“Wait, so all those times you've been missing from group hangouts... are they all because you've been with her?”

Johnny nodded curtly, refusing to meet Pony's gaze. “I really like her,” he confessed quietly, “She makes me, I dunno, happy.” 

And it was then that Ponyboy Curtis knew that you may not be as bad as he’d thought. He wasn't blind. Johnny had looked happier these past few weeks, smiling more often and laughing more loudly. He didn't miss the look on the greaser’s face as you walked by, didn't miss the way his eyes light up and his lips quirk up into a smile. He was in love with you and Ponyboy  was going to everything he could to convince Johnny to confess to you.

A few weeks later, he had succeeded. It had taken a lot of work and a lot of coaxing on dear old Sodapop’s behalf, but he had finally managed to make Johnny ask you on a date. It had been awkward, and Johnny had almost backed out, but he found that it was worth every second for the smile that had graced your features when you'd finally agreed to go to the movies with him later that night. He could have cried on the spot, eyes sparkling with excitement as he smiled shyly at you. 

Needless to say, it had come as a major shock to everyone when Johnny had shown up at the Curtis' doorstep one Sunday evening, your finger linked with his, looking every bit like an excited puppy. 

They were wary of you as you introduced yourself, Dally glaring daggers at you from his spot on the floor, but Johnny didn't seem to notice, dragging you over to the couch to sit with him. The gang had never seen their friend so content, so utterly relaxed as he was now, and as you struck up conversation with Steve and Two-bit they couldn’t help but soften a little towards you. Sure, you were a soc, someone who they never thought would end up sitting on the Curtis' couch, holding hands with Johnny Cade, but if  he was happy, well, they weren't exactly complaining. 

Besides, what's one more member to their little dysfunctional family? 

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

[sarahscribbles]

I would like to present to you a concept called Loki’s Biting Kink. he wants to be bitten so fukn bad oh my god. not like, a skin-ripping chomp, but if his lover sinks their teeth in just enough to bruise him or even draw a bit of blood, he’ll praise them like it’s his job.

𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 (?)

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟖𝟖𝟒

𝐀𝐍: 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐭

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You hadn’t fully understood the concept of a safe space until Loki. Often, you had inwardly laughed at friends and colleagues who called their partners their “home” or their “heart.” 

It had baffled you how they could view a person, a simple human being, as something so profound. 

Now, though, as you straddle Loki’s lap after over a month apart and bury your face in his neck, you finally understand how a person can be home. The scent of him wraps itself around you like a blanket; bergamot and clove and something pleasantly sweet is the perfume of your heart, and the scents you’ll forever associate with being safe and loved. 

“You’re so perfect,” you whisper softly, trailing your lips across his collarbone in a haphazard pattern of kisses. “My perfect, beautiful boy,” you continue, punctuating each word with another kiss to his bare chest. 

He’s barely been back from Albania for an hour, but you’ve already half stripped him and twisted yourself around him on the sofa. While you had once thought it a ludicrous and sentimental ideal, you now realise that your home has two arms and a heartbeat. It has hands that have never faltered in loving and protecting you, and lips that have kissed away your deepest worries. 

Your home is Loki. 

His deep laughter vibrates through your chest and you can’t help but smile. “Darling, anyone might think you were in love with me,” he teases and runs his hand along your naked back. 

You sit back in his lap to meet those sparkling green eyes. They’re dancing with humour and love and a softness that’s reserved solely for you. Despite the time that’s passed since you and Loki became “official” your heart still flutters in your chest. 

“Perish the thought!” you tease him back, cupping his face in your hands and pressing your lips firmly to his. The kiss is slow and deep and makes something deep in your stomach stir to life. 

Loki wraps his arms tightly around you, pressing you snugly against his chest so there’s no room to doubt that he adores you. 

You let your lips linger against his as you break apart and bask happily in the gentle afterglow. Loki’s eyes are soft and dewy as they hold yours, conveying a million things that words never will. He curls his fingers around your wrists as your thumbs stroke his cheeks, gently moving one to his lips to press a soft kiss to the heel of your hand. 

It’s love that burns fiercely through your blood. Love so deep that you know you would give your life for him if the need ever arose. You would do anything, anything, to keep this man safe. 

With a contented hum, you dip back below Loki’s jaw, pressing the same trail of kisses along his shoulder. He so rarely lets you worship him, but tonight, he seems only too happy to submit to your affections. He sighs happily and rolls his head to the side to grant you better access, and, as you inch along his skin, the familiar scent of him invades you once again.

It’s heady and wonderfully intoxicating and it stirs something possessive to life in the deepest recesses of your mind. It feels almost primal and, before you can fully comprehend what you’re doing, you sink your teeth into Loki’s shoulder. It’s hard, but not so much so to be uncomfortably painful, just enough that you know a bruise will blossom there in the morning.

Your claim on him.

He tenses beneath you and you hear his breath catch in his throat. You feel him go completely still, until the only sign he’s alive is the steady thump of his heart.

You panic.

You pull back frantically to look at him. “Sorry! I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that. I should have asked. I should -,” you try to apologise, but Loki pulls you in for a kiss so deep you feel it all the way in your toes. 

His soft breath of laughter tickles your nose when he pulls away, and you’re surprised to see the faint dusting of pink that’s now painting his cheeks. “I’m…I’m a little embarrassed to admit that…that…” He trails off and looks at you. 

This perpetually composed god, this man who has looked his tormenter right in the eyes, is speechless beneath you and it only takes half a second for the pieces to slot into place. 

“My love, you don’t need to be embarrassed by the things that arouse you,” you say softly, reaching out a hand to cup his cheek and smiling when he leans into the palm of your hand. “And, as far as kinks go, this one is pretty tame.” 

You feel him relax beneath you and his arms snake to encircle your hips. “I adore you, do you know that?” 

You lean in to nudge your nose against his. “I do,” you say, giving him another brief kiss. “How about we go somewhere a little more comfortable? Maybe I can awaken something else in you.” 

“My little minx,” Loki teases, but then stands up so suddenly that your arms and legs are quickly locking around him for purchase. “But I’ll grant your wish, dove. Tonight, I am completely at your mercy.”

[meowpupp]

This is probably a bit more self indulgent, but imagine if owner!Price decides if pup!Kyle is trained well enough to be a good boy, he trusts that he can leave him with puppy!reader

Kyle and her having the whole day to just themselves, imagine her just wandering around the couch to find the other hybrid laying on the bed just staring her like he wants to eat her <3

Being the ever so kinder one of the two, willingly spreads her legs for him, and he treats her nicely for once leaving her surprised 🥰

Other self indulgent ideas,, Hybrid pup!Kyle would probably scare off all the other hybrids from trying to sniff her sweet scent or even nip at her tail— Can’t have such a sweet thing ruined by some other mutts (Price probably trained him well for that too)

I LOVE this whole ask, but I want to focus on the second half because it's just so AHHHHGG

tw://hybrid smut, breif mention of noncon (1 sentence abt grinding), knotting, CHUBBY READER PER USUAL, unedited 😭😭

price who knows you're a pretty girl. he takes pride in it, making sure both you and gaz are well taken care of. you're precious, and he treats you as such.

but price isn't stupid either. he knows that when dumb street mutts pick up on your sweet scent, they cant help but drool and pull at their leashes. it's partly not their fault, a pretty young thing like you? prime age to carry a pup or two of your own? he has to keep you on a tight leash, or else you might just be bred by some big, mean mutt at the dog park.

everytime he takes you out, let's you off leash, you always end up being bullied. other dog hybrids twice you size nipping your tail, your ears. they push you to the ground, grinding their tents against you. they can't help it! your fat hips are perfect for breeding, and the short skirts price has you in are all too easy to push up.

half the time you come back from the park frazzled and overwhelmed. poor cunt all slick n wet as your body craves to be fucked. those are the times price lets you ride your toys. the fake knot is your only relief, even if the silicone isn't nearly as thick and long as price.

but then kyle comes along. a mean looking hybrid. he's tall, broad and lean. he was born to guard and protect, which was awfully convient for price.

the other pup is practically stuck to your side. like a bodyguard, he's never out of sight. once glance from him and most other hybrids scamper. he rarely has to get aggressive, but when he does, it's downright terrifying.

kyle flares up, shoulders taught, teeth grit. he can't help the deep growl that ripples from his chest. he pushes you behind him, and if Price wasn't there to call him off, he'd rip the other mutt apart.

but it doesn't stop there. the whole day he's on edge. he can't help it, his entire world is you. you're his mate, his pup, his girl. and the thought of someone else shoving their cocks into your tight cunt, fucking you full? it makes him feral.

price has found that there's only one way to help calm kyle down. letting him fuck his cum deep in your woumb. the pup practically snarling and growling into your neck, fingerprints leaving marks on your hips as he practically muals your neck. he can't help but knott you, pumping you full with so much cum is practically makes your tummy bloat.

marking you his. ensuring no other mutt even glances your way.

taglist! (I'm sorry I forget to do this all the time) @titaniasfairy @notalwaysa (?)

[samandcolbyownme]

more vampire!sam pleaseeee

Warnings: SMUT18+, compulsion, strong language, swearing, mentions of blood, blood drinking, vampire!Sam obvi, kissing, hair pulling, fingering, biting, scratching, creampie, filth

Word Count: 1.7k | unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

“Don’t move, and don’t make a sound.”

You stare off in front of you, your body moving with the blondes as he bites down onto your neck. You remain still, allowing him to sink his fangs into the delicate skin on your neck.

Your head falls to the side more as he groans against your skin, licking and lapping up the slight mess before pulling away.

His eyes scan over your face as he licks his lips. He slips your hand into his and pulls you towards the back of the nightclub, spinning you to face him before he shoving you back into the wall.

You smirk, “How was that?”

“Oh baby, you’re perfect at pretending to be human.”

Sam loved when he could compel you, but since you’re not a vampire yourself and can’t be compelled, you offered to spice things up by prepending to be human.

But this time it’s different, since he persuaded you to flip that little humanity switch to off, you’ve had the most fun you ever had in either of your lives.

His lips crash onto yours and you moan against his lips, pulling him in closer as your leg lifts to his hip, “I need a drink.”

“Pick anyone you want, sweetheart. The floor..” He motions to the sea of bodies, “..is yours.” He turns his head back to look at you, “Just one condition, I get to watch.”

“Such a dirty boy.” You tease as you reach up to wipe the blood from his chin before placing it on his tongue.

Sam keeps eye contact as his tongue swirls around to get all the blood, “Can’t help that I think you’re so damn hot when you’re sucking someone else dry.”

You bite your lip, pulling him in to kiss him.

You have a heated make out before you push him off of you, “Seriously. I need a drink.” You walk past him and he groans, “You’re so fucking hot.”

You smirk as you keep walking, making your way through the crowd to find the perfect victim.

You slide your hand down one guy’s arm, smiling at him as you walk around to the front, “don’t move, don’t make a sound.”

You glance up at Sam as you sink your teeth into the guys neck, groaning lowly as you almost drink him dry.

“Alright, baby. Hey. Not here.” Sam slides his hand in, lifting your chin up and face away from the neck, “Not here, okay?”

You lick your lips, pulling Sam in to kiss him, “Go wait in the ally. I have a surprise for you.”

He nods, “Don’t be too long.”

You roll your eyes, “You know I won’t.”

He smirks and walks away from you, leaving you to do whatever it is you need to do. You lean back, wiping your mouth on your wrist, “Go home. You don’t know what happened here.”

You push the guy towards the door and scan the area for your surprise. You smirk, waking up to a girl who’s standing alone, “You look like you hate your life.”

“What?” She asks with a laugh and you tilt your head, “Say you hate your life.”

“I hate my life.”

“Good.” You extend your hand out, “Follow me.” She takes your hand and you lead her through the back and out the side door.

“What’s this?” Sam asks, “Looks like we’re continuing to have a fun night, yeah?”

You smile, “Actually.” You look at the girl, “Don’t move. Don’t speak. Don’t make a sound.” You look back at Sam, walking up to him as you speak, “I’ve heard that murder..” you grip his shoulders, quickly pushing him against the brick wall, “..to a vampire..” you drag your tongue up his neck, “Is the greatest confession of love to the other.”

“You gonna kill her for me?” Sam slides his hand up, fingers wrapping around your throat, “Show me how much you love me?”

“Yes baby.” You bite your lip, “I want you to know that I will rip apart anyone for you.”

He bites his lip, smirking as he nods, “What are you waiting for then, sweetheart. I think my gift is getting bored.”

“Please.” You laugh, “She has no idea what’s coming to her.” You quickly move so you’re behind her, laying your hand on her forehead to tilt her head to the side.

You lift your head slightly, snapping it down to sink your fangs into her neck. You look up, still drinking as you lock eyes with Sam.

He walks over, moving his gaze from you to her, smirking as the life leaves her eyes. You drop her to the ground, pushing Sam against the wall.

His hands are on your hips, pulling you into him as your lips attack his.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the people I thought I’d find here.”

You huff against Sam’s lips, “Go home, Colby, you’re not wanted nor needed here.”

Colby chuckles, “Well aren’t you just a delight. I see Sam here..” He quickly moves to stand right next to you, “..Urged you to flip that little switch.”

“What do you want, Colby?” Sam turns his head to look at him, and Colby sighs, “Well I’ve been trying to find you guys since you took off, mainly to stop..” He motions to the body on the ground, “.. This from happening.”

“Yeah. You seem to be late to the party on that one.” You roll your eyes, pulling Sam with you, “Fuck off, Brock.”

You and Sam make your way back inside, moving within the crowd.

“You’re beautiful.” One guy says as his hand drags over your waist. You laugh, giving him a smile, “I’m also violent.. Vulgar..”

The guy shrugs, “I’ll be into anything you want.”

You smirk, pushing him back against Sam, “Glad you say that. Don’t move don’t scream, don’t do anything, okay?”

Sam doesn’t hesitate, sinking his fangs into the side of the guys neck.

Sam has killed for you before. Multiple occasions.

You ogle Sam as he glances up at you, and you needed him now more than you ever have. You walk up, turning the guys face towards you, “Leave. Don’t tell anyone about what happened.”

The man leaves and you’re on Sam, kissing up his neck and nipping his ear, “I need you to fuck me.”

“Say no more.” Sam pulls you away, walking you towards the bathroom. Colby walks up next to you, “You know I’m getting real tired of cleaning up your messes.”

“Well good thing you won’t have to worry about this one.” You turn around, flicking him off as Sam pulls you in through the open door.

You’re usually a sweetheart to Colby, and now that you have no sense of sweet left in you, you really got under his skin which only thrilled you more.

Sam locks the door, quickly moving over to you and you’re slammed onto the counter. His hands slide up your dress, instantly pushing past your panties, and plunging two fingers into you.

You spread your thighs wider, moaning out as you slide your hand down his chest, stopping at his jeans. You quickly undo them, reaching in to pull out his cock to stroke it as his fingers work inside of you.

He reaches up, tilting your head up with his fingers on your chin, “Mine.”

“Same for you.” You reach up with your other hand, pulling him in by the neck. Your walls squeeze his fingers and he nods, “Come on, baby. Cum for me.”

Your back arches and you squeeze his cock a little harder which earns a groan from him, “That’s it, baby. Fuck.”

“Fuck.” You groan out loudly, “I need more.”

You push his hand away, sliding to the edge of the counter and Sam slips his cock into you. His grip is harsh on your waist as he groans into your neck.

“Bite me.” You breathe out, “I-I-“ you moan louder as Sam sinks his fangs into your neck. The feeling of him sucking your neck drives you insane, “Shit, yes baby.”

Your hands slide up to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling his head back so you can do the same to him.

He reaches up, laying a hand on the back of your head as you suck his neck, “Fuuuck.”

His thrusts grow harder after you pull away, earning screams of pleasure to escape from the walls of your lips, “Sam. Sam.” You moan out, “So fucking close.”

“Cum on my cock, baby.” Sam presses his lips to your forehead and you look up, smashing your lips onto his.

He leans you back, placing on hand on the counter as his thrusts grow faster, “You feel so fucking good.” You smirk, “Keep talkin’, baby.”

“I love the way you feel around me.”

“Goddammit you are just so fucking sexy.”

“M’gonna cum, fill that pussy completely.”

“My fuckin’ girl.”

He lifts his other hand to your cheek, “Humanity or no humanity, you still have me wrapped around your finger.”

“Damn right I do.” You moan as you tilt your head back, rolling your hips forward as you cum again. Sam pulls you towards him, spinning you around to slam you up against the door.

He kisses down your neck and over your chest, “Fuck, fuck. Shit.”

You feel his cock twitch inside of you, both of you moaning out as he fills you.

You rest your head back against the door, smiling as he sets you down. You reach down to fix your panties and tug your dress down as Sam fixes himself.

“Now where?” Sam asks with a smirk and you shrug, walking over to wrap your arms around his neck, “Not sure. But I definitely think we need to ditch Colby.”

Sam nods, “I am one hundred percent with you on that one.” He presses his lips to yours, sliding his hand up to run his thumb over the dried blood, “you wanna wash up quick?”

You shake your head, shrugging, “Why do that if I’m just going to keep getting dirty?”

Sam bites his lip, shaking his head slowly, “I see what you mean.” He flicks his brows up, “Maybe we can convince Colby to join us on our little escapade.”

“You’d be okay with that?” You tilt your head and he rolls his eyes, “Please. Have you seen the way he looks at you?”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

“PaRt TwO .. PaRt TwO” I know I know, give me a little bit and you’ll have your part 2 😘 I love you so so so much! thank you so much for reading! See you in the next one!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

Here’s your part 2 🖤

[despairots]

PIECE OF LOVE! — till ivan | alien stage.

till said he liked you, but he always looked at mizi whenever she walks past. maybe if he looked back, he would notice you. waiting, staring, wanting it to be your turn before you finally looked the other way.

content warning | character deaths, swearing, unrequited love, brief cannibalistic metaphors, love triangles, male reader but not mentioned (they/them prns).

till never looked at you, if he did (which is rare), it would be because of you talking to him just to get his attention. despite him saying he liked you when you both were young, he never gave you anymore attention once mizi arrived. till never talked to her, always expecting her to look back at him without asking her for it.

maybe that’s what you felt when someone you love is looking everywhere but you. you were always there for him, he knew too, always comforting him in his darkest times, praising him when he did a good job at his practice, making him gifts so he can be happy, but not once did he return it.

does he appreciate it? yes. returns your love? no.

till doesn’t know it but maybe if he looked back, he would see who was waiting for him all this time. it was only a matter of time before they turned away from him too when he finally looks back, and you were just waiting for you to eventually give up on him.

praying, wanting, needing for it to happen. if only things could be that easy, you would’ve been a lot more free. instead, you’re bounded to be hopeless forever, no matter how many times your alien owners tried to cheer you up. gifts, clothes, toys, stuff you needed to live until this day, it would never work.

it was until recently, at the rip age of 17, that you finally grew up and matured. turning around and living the life of a young star, your owners busting their asses for you to live a life of a celebrity. it felt good to finally be free, maybe you missed being chained down to till, after all, you still cared for him.

you wanted him to be apart of you, you still wanted him carnally, sinking your teeth into him, almost like you could smell his flesh from miles away. all that you concluded that you wanted to let go so bad, was that you still loved him.

till never looked at you.

“ [name]? “

ivan’s touch on your cheek woke you up, realizing you slept on a couch, uncomfortably so from the neck in your pain when you sat up. his black pupils that had a hint of red stared right back into yours as he kneeled infront of you while cradling your hands.

“ivan..?” you trailed off before realizing he won his match, making you softly smile, “congratulations.” ivan nodded back in acknowledgment before he stood up, pulling you up with him to bring you into a hug, putting your arms around him as you buried yourself in his neck. you were lucky ivan was here with you, loving you like till could never bring up the courage to do.

now, as you raise up your platform, dressed in white with the boy you once called yours beside you, a look of concern glistening in his eyes, wondering why you weren’t looking at him like you used too. all you were doing is staring at the ground, like you lost the will to win.

till never looked at you.

watching ivan die, just to save till with no regrets while giving him a goodbye kiss as he fell to ground made you realize something, ivan looked at both till and you, just to die for both of you. when he died, you died alongside him, now till has to go up against you.

till watched you walk up the stage, wanting to get this round over and down before he followed you like a lost dog. he never heard you sing before, he never listened to your rounds or music, he was too busy with his but once he heard you live, you sounded ethereal, pulling him into your downfall.

he didn’t notice that he was being your back up vocals before you grabbed his hand, mic just inches away from your lips, did he start his singing part. till noticed how dead your eyes looked, how cold your skin felt, and how you harshly let his hand drop yours grasp.

his eyes kept following your figure, noticing how smooth and soft your movements were, aswell as how soft your voice was being when you looked at him whenever he looked away from you. despite everything, you could never hate him.

you, who didn’t wish him harm.

you, who wished he looked back at you.

and you, who didn’t want to win.

because of that, you grabbed his wrist to pull him into a short kiss, pulling away until he pulled you back in, shocking you more than anything. a part of you wanted you to believe that he was only doing it because he missed mizi, that you were just filling in the role of her until he pulled away.

a sad smile on his face as his lips moved, saying words that you weren’t able to hear, there was a ringing in your ears, the scoreboard showing that you won. till managed to catch the look of disbelief when your eyes went back to him, he was glad that the glint in your eyes were back, just not the way he didn’t want it to come back.

the tight feeling on his neck disappeared, reaching up to grasp at it did he realize you placed it on yours. no, no! he’s already lost mizi, ivan, and now, you? it’s like the world didn’t want him to be happy with the amount of blood splattered on his hands.

your smile, and ivan’s smile will now haunt his dreams, watching your body collapse onto the ground next to him with your blood on his cheeks did he yell out of despair, cradling your body close to him as the crowd watched in disbelief.

till never looked at you.

he always did, whenever you weren’t looking in that case.

“i’m sorry for not loving you enough.”

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

🦇

Eddie wakes up to The Upside Down destroying itself. He manages to escape, but there's a catch...he is now a bat. You (Dustin's sister) take him in and Eddie desperately tries to find a way to get back to his human self.

Little bits of angst and some fluff. Bat Eddie for a little bit 🦇 protective Eddie.

❤️

One minute Eddie was sure he was dying. In fact, he's pretty sure he was dead for a while because when he woke up, it was to find the pain from being ripped apart by demobats, to be gone.

Eddie would have assumed he was in heaven, at peace. Until he opened his eyes fully and concluded that he was still in The Upside Down and the hellhole was tearing itself apart.

He doesn't know how he managed to escape the destruction, but he did; truth be told, he passed out a couple of times and when he was roused from his stupor by loud voices.

"You can't pick that thing up. It might have rabies!" Now that the voice was familiar, it sounded like Robin with someone he didn't recognise. He opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a sort of chittering sound.

Shit... now Eddie has had an insane few hours; he woke up after being dead for god knows how long, passed out, and escaped an interdimensional hellscape only to pass out again, so it isn't his fault that he's just now noticed that he's not human.

No, he's a fucking bat. One of those nasty little shits who caused him to bleed out in Dustin's arms. Oh shit, Dustin. He had to see Dustin. Eddie begins to squeak again until you pick him up.

"It isn't one of those creepy demobats, Robin; it's smaller and kinda cute. Those things were freaky and had too many claws and teeth. Look, It's injured, I have gloves on and just want to check that it's okay and yes I'll try to hide it from Dustin, I know my brother though and he'll suss me out within minutes"

Wait a minute... You were Henderson's sister? He remembers Dustin telling him about you once or twice. He knew you were a senior when Dustin was a Freshman, but he'd never met you. He had been curious for ages, though, and now the two of you had finally met.

"Yeah, alright, just keep its teeth away from me, yeah?" Eddie squeaks; oh, Steve was here too? He would smirk if he could; he hadn't known Steve long, what with dying and all, but it was a joy to fluster the previous king of Hawkins.

He wonders if Big Boy has finally talked it out with Wheeler? If he could change back into human form, then he'd ask, but as of yet, Eddie doesn't know how to do that.

He feels like his thoughts are going a mile a minute; he wants to find his Uncle Wayne and let him know that he's okay, but that is impossible to do now. At least he would have shelter with the Hendersons until he turned back into a human.

Whenever he turned back that is.

❤️

Dustin is at eye level with Eddie, gazing at him reproachfully. Eddie squeaks, trying to convey who he is; he even manages a half-hearted fly over to Dustin's Hellfire shirt and chitters away at you and Dustin praying that you both understand. He's still weak, though, and it tires him quickly.

"I couldn't leave him out there, I understand if you don't want him in the house Dusty, I could take him to Steve's or to Robin's and look after him there," you say to your brother gently, he's still not coping well with Eddie's death and you don't want anything to set him back further.

You wish you could have met Eddie, sure you knew of him around school but your paths never crossed that much. Not enough for you to be properly introduced to him... and now it was too late.

It would have been nice to know the person who your brother adored so much.

"S'kay, he's kinda cute. Nothing like those freaky little shits we've had to fight. I think he might just be a normal bat? Everything from The Upside Down is dust now so we don't have to worry"

Eddie closes his eyes, growing sleepy. He's now cocooned in soft blankets in a little box and figures maybe he will get some sleep and figure out how to turn back to human once he's had a good rest. Your fingers gently rub his head and he chitters softly, it's nice.

The next thing Eddie knows he's waking up to sobbing and startles when he realises it's Dustin who's made his way to your room, he's crying on your shoulder and Eddie's heart restricts painfully at the pain in Dustin's voice.

"I miss Eddie, I just want him back. It's not fair that he had to die" Eddie watches you soothe Dustin as best as you can but you're teary too and Eddie finds that this hurts his heart just as much as Dustin hurting.

He barely knows you but he finds himself wondering how you got involved in this mess with The Upside Down? How long exactly has Eddie been dead?

Eyes sweeping over the room, he finds a calendar with the date on it. November 30th 1986.

Eight months. He's been gone just over six months. Fuck. There's a sinking feeling that only grows stronger as he watches Dustin cry.

Dustin in pain makes Eddie's heart ache and he's determined to get back to his human self even more now.

❤️

For a few days, Eddie lays low and naps as much as he can. His injured wing is healing faster than he thought, but no matter how many times he tries to turn back into his human self, it doesn't work.

Then there have been attempts to help you and Dustin realise that he is Eddie. Though realistically there isn't much he can do, he gravitates towards the heavy metal CDs and the D&D figures in Dustin's room, but that doesn't help much.

He nibbles on the fruit and finishes the lot in minutes. Shit, if Uncle Wayne could see him willingly eat fruit... the old man would laugh his ass off. Ideas for his next attempt to reveal himself run through his mind as he watches you read on the bed and squeaks to get your attention.

You grin as you make your way over to him, "You're lucky you're cute. You're so noisy; I don't know how Mom hasn't found you yet, especially with Tews on the prowl" You gently pat his little head, then groan as the doorbell rings.

All is silent for a few seconds then he hears arguing at the front door and pauses eating. Since he's feeling a lot better, he manages to fly out of your room to see what's happening.

Paul Davids is at your door, Eddie remembers him as one of Jason's friends. Which makes Eddie ponder what happened to Carver during the earthquake? Maybe that's something he can find out whenever he turns back into a human.

Judging from the argument you're having with Paul, it's about you turning him down for a date. Eddie watches and feels a growing sense of irritation aimed at the douchebag.

Dustin appears at the doorway and Eddie squeaks to get Dustin's attention. *Douchebag alert, huh dude?* well, that's what he would say if Dustin could understand him and Dustin nodded along like he did.

"Tell me about it, total douchebag" Paul glares at Dustin but you push him out the door before he can say anything. Eddie flies over to you and perches himself on your shoulder.

"What the fuck? Is that a bat?" Paul gawks at him and you scowl, attempting to close the door.

"None of your business, Now leave me the hell alone. I'm not interested so I don't know why you keep showing up" Eddie stills when Paul's eyes flash and he grabs your arm which causes you to yelp.

The anger that's been slowly building explodes; Paul is saying something else, but Eddie can't hear him; one minute, he's flying around the butthead and squeaking furiously, and then the next, he blacks out for a few seconds. When he comes too he's in his own body for the first time in days.

"Did you not hear her, or do I need to knock some sense into you, asshole?" he snaps; Paul goes as white as a sheet and runs away from the door, screeching. "Ghost! Ghost!"

He's human again. Thank fuck, he's never been so happy to be in his own body.

Silence engulfs the hallway, Dustin is staring at him in shock. It's your reaction that startles him. You shriek and nearly brain Eddie with a lamp which he narrowly avoids.

"What the fuck. I swear if this is some beyond-the-grave shit from Vecna I will personally kick his Grinch-looking ass back to hell" Eddie snorts at your description then ducks another attack by the lamp.

"No, shit. It's me. It's Eddie. I was the bat; I woke up in The Upside Down and escaped its destruction, passed out a few times and woke up to find out that I was a fucking bat"

Dustin stirs from his shock and whispers Eddie's name, Eddie nods gently and holds his arms out so Dustin runs into them, his whole body is shaking as he cries into Eddie's shoulder.

"You..you were dead; you died in my arms, Eddie", he sobs, and Eddie fights back his own tears. Instead, he peers over at you and smiles impishly.

"Not going to knock me out with that lamp are you princess?" you slowly put the lamp down while mouthing princess to yourself.

"Never told me your sister was beautiful but deadly, Henderson", he jokes to Dustin, who makes a face; it stops the tears, and he groans.

"Dude, that's my sister. Gross" You meet his gaze and he notices you now look a bit flustered.

"I better call Steve and Hopper and figure out what we are going to do now", Eddie winces, yeah he's figuring he will still have to lay low; there would still be people who thought he was a murderer, even with all the shit that had happened in Hawkins.

"Wait a second... I thought Hopper died last year?" you and Dustin exchange looks and Dustin pats his shoulder.

"Come on buddy, you need to wash up. I'll ask Steve to bring some extra clothes for you. I'll fill you in about Hopper"

Once Eddie is showered he finds clothes that Steve has brought over and dresses as quickly as he can, trying his hardest not to look at the scars that litter his body. He's lucky to be alive so he can deal with some particularly gnarly scarring.

There's so much he has to do, but until his name is cleared, he can't exactly waltz back home to Uncle Wayne, well unless Hopper can clear him. Dustin reassured Eddie that Hop would think of something.

Then another thought occurs to him, shit is the trailer even there anymore? He can't remember much after escaping from The Upside Down, he's so lost in thought that he doesn't hear you come in.

"Hey, you okay Eddie?" you stop mid-sentence and look away from him, suddenly shy. Flushed Eddie pulls on the plain black T-shirt Steve gave him.

"Do they still hurt?" you ask worriedly and he shakes his head. It was more phantom pain than anything else, and the memories. He shudders.

"The memories are the worst part. I can deal with anything else, it's uh...just those moments of sheer terror when I knew I was going to die, the feeling of those things tearing into me" he chokes back a sob and you hurry to him taking his hand and squeezing it tightly.

"It's okay. You're here, you survived. Vecna, everything in The Upside Down is gone. There's nothing to be afraid of now. We're going to get your name cleared, and we can all move on from this shit, not have to worry about constantly being in danger all the time" the two of you settle on the bed; Eddie is still holding your hand; it's a nice feeling, really nice.

"How the hell did you get involved in this shit?" It's something he's been curious about for a while.

"Oh, I've known something was wrong with this town for a while, ever since Will disappeared, everything that happened after that. I always had the suspicion that Dustin was involved and last year confirmed it. I kept waiting for something else to go down, and then Vecna happened... after you died, it was bad, Eddie, really bad. Apocalypse bad"

Shit... Dustin barges into the room and zeros in on you and Eddie holding hands, he rolls his eyes.

"Okay, I'm just so happy you're back, man, that I'm not going to mention you holding hands with my sister...yet. Now come on Hopper and Steve are waiting" Eddie chuckles and stands up, kissing your hand before he goes, mostly just to wind up Dustin.

"Dude...we really need to talk about your tone" he ruffles Dustin's hair and then makes his way to the longue.

Time to face the music. Steve's jaw drops when Eddie walks in, and he swears, "Shit, Eddie dude...if I had any idea you were alive, then I would have never left you down in that shit hole" Eddie shrugs and pats Steve on the shoulder.

"I did die; I just came back to life in some freaky Upside Down twist. Anyway, you miss me, big boy?" He bats his eyes at Steve, who blushes; it was fun to fluster him.

Hopper approaches him and smiles gruffly.

"Okay, kid, let's start on getting you cleared, yeah?"

❤️

For the last few weeks, Eddie has been getting to know you. You were quick-witted, funny and beautiful. He had been trying hard not to fall for you but it was a losing battle. Steve teased him relentlessly whenever Eddie would blush in your presence.

You were a Wiz at D&D having passed on all your knowledge to Dustin and when you told him that you had even seen the legend that was Ozzy Osbourne himself on stage, Eddie nearly fell of his seat with excitement.

"Dude, you hid the perfect woman from me all this time?" He moans to Dustin who gags.

"Nope, if you're going to ask out my sister, then please don't turn into one of those cheesy, lovey-dovey couples", Dustin begs him, and Eddie only winks in acknowledgement.

His name is cleared thanks to Hopper and he can just focus on the fact he was given a second chance at life. Mostly he's been spending his time with you, Dustin, Nance, Steve and Robin.

There was a tearful reunion with Wayne before Eddie was shipped off to one of those government hospitals just to make sure that his bites didn't have lasting effects, you know, besides being able to turn into a bat.

He managed to graduate, though he thinks the school was just happy to get rid of him; Hellfire Club was also back in session and hosted at Steve's place once a week. You had joined and had Eddie wrapped around your finger from the first session; he wasn't ashamed to admit it, either.

Eddie smiles shyly at you when you kiss his cheek in greeting; the two of you begin discussing scenarios for the latest campaign while Dustin argues with Steve about what movie to put on for the weekly movie night.

One major thing was on Eddie's mind, he wanted to ask you out. Maybe after surviving death by fucked up bats, he will have the courage to finally ask you soon? He has a sneaking suspicion that you'll say yes.

Two hours later, he finds that suspicion to be true, and Dustin, half disgusted/half pleased, begs Eddie to please refrain from kissing you where he can see it.

Just for that, Eddie plans to kiss you all the time just to gross the little butthead out.

🤭

❤️🦇

[finsplurtz]

Chat I NEED a part two of the addicted fanfic with Izu with him being a mean dom bottom and us being sub top 😼

—and i go crazy because izuku mad cute pls give me more izuku

soo meann — izuku.midoriya

— dom ! male.reader x sub ! izuku midoriya

— contents : r4pe/non-con , subtop ! Male reader x dombot ! izuku , guilt tripping lol! and he’s mean .. , izuku slight sadistic fuck , hand job , biting , hitting , mad overstim , degrading nd praise , mention of izuku using u so he legit doesn’t gaf abt how u feel , knocking u unconscious , somnophilia if u squint

warnings : r4pe/non-can , lots of beating

- first part: addicted

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

after what happened at your dorm, it was very evident how attached midoriya truly was to you. He wouldn’t even try and hide it around others, if it weren’t for you shoving him away every now and then, everyone would’ve known he was fucking himself on you every other night.

during these nights you slightly expected him to be nicer every now and then but he was getting meaner and meaner, he started to hurt you.

Every time you tried to have a serious talk with him about it, he would make YOU feel like the bad person, he’d knock u out and you’d wake up to him on top of you

you push it aside after doing it because of how good it feels to be inside the green haired boy, all the problems just disappear and izuku knows that.

one night you guys just got back from intense training, you were exhausted. Midoriya was still sorta hyper, so he decided to bother you a bit more.

you didn’t realize he was following after you to your dorm, you were practically dragging your feet because of how tired you were. Everything around you was just silent, you didn’t hear anything.

you walked in and grunted when your hyper baby jumped on you, falling to the floor you let out a sigh of annoyance. you turn your body around and look up at izuku who was straddling you, dark big eyes staring back at you.

“izu..im really tired, can we not do it tonight..?”

“…no..nono you’re not tired, just let me do this” he started to rub your crotch with the palm of his hand, leaned down and left kisses on your neck while you tried pushing him off.

“izuku I…thought we talked..about - ugh..~” you harshly grabbed his wrist and moved him off you.

“you need to stop when I tell yo—“ you felt a sting when he slapped your face with his free hand, you slowly looked back at him but he quickly grabbed your head in his hands and slammed it down onto the floor.

you groaned at the pain in the back of your head, you squirm under the guy trying to get away.

“you’ll let me do this.. stop being so difficult.” he got back on top of you and grinded his ass down on your clothed dick as you let out small whimpers.

you tried to get him off but he didn’t listen and kept doing his own thing, taking your dick out and beginning to stroke it, having you break apart under him.

anytime you got noisier he would just slap you, each time harsher than the last.

“p..please izuk..stop..” tears fell down your face while he stared up at you annoyingly. “stop crying..you know you love it when I touch you like this..” his thumb slid against your slit, a moan ripping out of your sore throat and your eyes rolling back.

“c..can’t you be…nicer..” you said thru whines, he kissed his teeth and sped up his pace jerking you off and dipping down to bite your neck.

“shut up..” he would say before sinking his teeth into your skin, drawing blood. you’d scream and pull at his hair to get him off you, but he’d just roughly slam your head back down on the floor.

your breathing sped up when you got closer to coming, when you did, izuku would sit back up and lick up your mess. he’d help himself up just above your dick, his hole already wet and loose due to the many times he’s done this.

“n..noo izuk..I just came p-please give me a bit..” you begged the green haired, your hands going over to his hips only for them to get swatted away.

you throw your head back when he sinked down onto your length, your hands twitching and breath hitching.

“don’t be selfish, since you already..came, I get to as well..” he lifted himself up and slowly sat back down starting at a slow pace making this hurt more.

He was extremely rough with you and extremely mean, always slapping, biting, hitting and pinching because he loved hearing you moan and whine in pain. His goal all the time, was to break you.

Have you come so much that you start shooting blanks, so much that you’re drooling and panting like a dog and begging him to keep fucking you.

he’s only nice when you’re on the brink of passing out, he’d cup your pink tear stained cheeks and kiss you passionately.

“you’re doing well sweetie… just take it like the good boy you are, yeah..?~” you’d slowly nod your head and give him a trembling slime. He’d give you so many kisses and make you feel so loved just to then knock you out

“you’re just a toy I use to fuck myself” and he’d push the back of your head down on the floor hard enough for you to lose consciousness.

but you never remember that part.

When you wake up, you have a bit of a headache and izuku is sleeping soundly next to you, you just can’t let go of him.

you just hope one day he’ll be nicer to you when using you:((

a/n; posting two days in a row yeah i’m fucking goated as hell

[glassrowboat]

Gas Station. Boothill.

There is no plot here, just porn.

Word count: 500+

Authors note: This is my first smut so fuck if I know if it's any good, you read it and find out.

Warnings: nsfw, male bottoming, fingering that gas thing on boothill's back, slut shaming

He was so cute like this, crying out as those robotic hands clung to the covers. Each little detail of those metallic digits sinking in deeper and deeper to the cloth below, you could swear it was his goal to tear apart. The sound of ripping surely wouldn't surprise you nor would the sight of threads laid out on the mattress Boothill was currently pressing himself against.

Did he honestly believe that some cushions and blankets would make an honest to goodness lifeline when not even his cries for you to slow down were being headed? The cold sting of metal biting your fingers as they flicked over the perfectly polished surface. Aluminum coating as you've learned between his babbles of “cutie, cutie, cutie.”

What a paltry attempt at cussing his little heart out.

“That's a good boy.” The tease was on the tip of your tongue in an instant, coaxing him on, guiding Boothill along just the same way your fingers were in his insides. Feeling along the fuel filler that unsurprisingly reeked. Getting close enough would have anyone believing they were suddenly at a gas station, pumps to their left and right listing out numbers of the last til taken as a man in the distance held a cigarette to his lips. “But I know you can take a little more.”

“Please- I ca-”

He can't? As if. He's done this time and time again, let your fingers fuck his little back side with his cute little ass up in the air. If it wasn't made of metal you'd be tempted to smack it, to toy with the flesh that would be there, to let your teeth sink in and draw out another whine. Another mewl. Another moan. All for your ears as the bed creaked again under Boothill's fist slamming down.

“You said you'd let me take my stress out, was that a lie?” Not even bothering to give him a chance to answer, not even a second for that pretty little head of two toned hair to think, another finger slid into his hole.

Indents, bumps, the little beads that spun round and round with every twitch of your touch all so sensitive. It was enough to make one think you were truly fucking his ass with how Boothill was reacting, head falling down as those measly little groans were barely muffled.

That's what he was trying to do, right?

“I didn't give you permission to muffle your voice, baby.”

“Honey,” he gasped out, the tone in his voice enough for you to know he was trying to say anything but the pet names that came from his lips that were spitting out drool. Saliva on his chin that was reflecting the dim lights that poured in through the closed curtains. “I'm sorry- I-”

“Seems I have to teach you a lesson on top of getting my work day off my mind. You're in for a long night, Boothill. So be a good fuck toy and take it.” What was that thing he seemed to like hearing so much last time? Oh, right. “Or I'll have to tell the other galaxy rangers just how much of a whore you are.”

And just as expected, his back arched at the words, trying to take more of what your touch was offering just like he was supposed to. Oh if only he did this earlier, then you wouldn't have to spend the rest of the night training him to behave.