#anyway i got into a screaming match and i think i fucked up my throat and im pissed at myself for yelling

[savethepinecones]

sooo glad im moving next month

#sometimes i really hate living with my mom #idk what it is but sometimes when we get into arguments it turns into a shouting match #and like i never get like that with anyone else #like i never even yelled at that one roommate i had who was a total nightmare #who was like objectively far worse to be living with #longtime mutuals know the deep piney lore of the fake dementia roommate im not gonna get into it rn cuz thats not the point but like #it was Bad #anyway i got into a screaming match and i think i fucked up my throat and im pissed at myself for yelling #and during this argument i was told that i 'do less than nothing' and have 'given up on life' #and also that im relying on 'handouts' and 'mooching off others' because i 'dont want to work' #and also that even if im bad enough off that i should be taking a break i should still do more #i think the exact phrasing was 'im not saying you should do more im saying you could do more' #as if pushing myself to do more than i should isnt a big part of why ive had to stop working in the first place #like surprise surprise that shit catches up to you #anyway that really sucked and i was a sobbing mess but i had a good chat with my sibling in law #who is also gonna be my roommate once i move #and im feeling much better #also im going to visit them and my sister this weekend cuz my grandma is doing a family christmas party #and i live like four hours away so im gonna stay at my sisters place while im out there instead of getting a hotel #and i might go out a day or two early depending on how my morning goes parentwise #also gonna bring some boxes out there so i dont have to move all at once so im gonna have to lift stuff ough

[bleubrri]

۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ ɪᴛ’s ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ ! — ᴊᴇᴀɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

༄ؘ ˑ contains: best friends → lovers , mutual pining , costumes errywhere , dry humping , m!oral , jean whining n whimpering hehe , reader bein kinda bossy >:7 , black coded!fem!reader , vaginal sex , creampie [ maybe more idk bro it’s 3am @_@ ]

༄ؘ ˑ wc: SIGH 4k :/

༄ؘ ˑ a/n: this is for the if you really think that you can stomach me collab by the light of my life @strawberrystepmom !! i wanted to post it in october but i’m useless so forgive me T^T lil talk about protection in there—communication is sexc!! also pls use condoms + practice safe sex xoxo

"these are all awful." you whine, sitting against jeans headboard and scrolling through his 'costume ideas' pinterest board.

he’s got his head underneath the desk, trying to fish out the mario kart disc thats fallen down the back, so his response is muffled. "they’re the most popular ones from the last decade!"

"jean, i am not wearing any of these."

he shuffles back out, dust covered disc in hand and pouting down at you. "there isn't one that you like?"

"not remotely."

"you’re being picky." he says, slotting the disc into the console and tossing you the player 1 controller.

"i’m being honest." you mutter, scrolling past a particularly awful rendition of a cops & robbers costume. he flops onto the bed and rests his head on your shoulder, peeking at the screen.

"y'know I worked really hard cultivating this. hours of research and painstaking decisi—hey!" his head knocks against the headboard when you yank yourself from under his weight.

"you're so annoying.." you mutter, navigating the homescreen and selecting grand prix. the character and course selection are accompanied with jeans babbling (we’ve gotta pick a good one—the standards are high! maybe i should just pick and force a decision on you—) that earns him unconvinced grunts and looks of skepticism.

the subject gets temporarily lost in the chaos that naturally ensues when jean selects rainbow road, 3 minutes of screaming and curses and shuffling onto your knees to get a better vantage point. it isn’t until the final lap when your item box is shuffling that you pipe up, “i guess we don’t have to do something matching..”

jean almost veers off of the track.

he frowns, glancing at your profile as he tries to maintain his first place spot. “…what?” he says. you’ve always dressed up together. since you were kids halloween had been your guys’ favourite holiday, and yet here you were suggesting that you break a years long (albeit unofficial) october tradition.

“i mean we could just go as separate things? if that makes it easier.” and it seems like appropriate timing when you unleash a blue shell and obliterate jeans universe.

you’re glowing, shrieking in triumph as you pass the finish line and leave jean in the dust. he watches your characters parade around the winners podium with a clenched jaw and sinking feeling.

“sure.” he agrees, tight lipped smile making you pause. you didn’t really expect him to agree—you’d only suggested it in case he had a particular costume that he was set on wearing. jean had always been the one to pick your costumes, you just went along with it, and always ending up looking decent so you couldn’t complain. he was always more into the whole idea of dressing up anyway. but you hadn’t really anticipated him ditching your thing in order to.. what, impress some new college friends?

you blink at him, a protest like the cork of a wine bottle, stuck in your throat and threatening to choke you. “cool.” you manage, “just.. let me know what you’re going as, yeah?”

“tryna scope out the competition?”

you give him a good natured shove, rolling your eyes as a smile fights it’s way across your face.

something like that, you think.

-

this was a bad fucking idea.

as the rhythmic percussion from the speakers gets close enough to rattle your bones, it starts to set in that jean was right. people have taken their costumes really fucking seriously. there are a few token stragglers: eren, in a hoodie and a purge mask and a short, raven haired senior with faux fangs and devil horns. but for the most part all you can see is elaborate sfx gore, girls in animal ears and enough fabric to border on public indecency. and everyone looks great.

you feel pathetic, turning up in a matching costume unbeknownst to your best friend. what if he’s mad? you’d gone from feeling somewhat pretty to utterly mortified in the span of a tacky monster mash-grime remix. your internal debate of whether to bolt back down the road and uber home is interrupted by connie (gruesomely accurate stitches and foam kitchen knife complementing his chucky outfit) who tackles you in a bear hug that reeks of tequila.

“y’look great!” he slurs, clinging to you for so long that he starts swaying.

stifling a laugh, you detach from him and start guiding him back inside. “thanks con, you too.” you shout over the music.

after successfully delivering connie to mikasa (in a very expensive looking black swan costume) you start to navigate the crowd in an attempt to find something to drink.

jean had been developing a steady buzz in the hour or so that he’d been here. he wasn’t having fun. you’d rejected his offer of a ride and for some reason it had given him the urge to drink his blood volume in vodka cokes. he’d made pretty good headway so far, drowning out the compliments on his frankenstein costume with deep gulps from his glass. it felt weird, not having your complimentary figure beside him to admire all night.

somewhere between the fourth beer and third shot of rum he decided that he was mad at you. but it had dissipated pretty quickly—he was refilling his glass when he caught a glimpse of you.

connie was half-slung over your shoulder (gripping you awfully tight and saying something into your ear that has jeans teeth grinding together) but he could still clearly see the monikers of your costume. white streaks in your hair. blackened stitches along your jaw that mirror his own. jean feels the air get punched from his lungs when his eyes scan over your dress. the sheer, pale fabric practically glowing in the dim lighting. there’s a white corset that hugs your waist and follows the curve of your hips that jean can’t seem to tear his gaze from. the whole ensemble.. it’s hauntingly beautiful. you’re beautiful.

jean swallows down a forbidden feeling that claws at his ribcage, tears at the flesh of his throat in its frenzied attempt to escape.

he bolts down the hall to connie’s room, shouldering past vague acquaintances and slipping into his friends bathroom. the white knuckle grip that he has on the sink isn’t doing much to help ground him. his heart hammering in his chest and his head spinning unfortunately isn’t entirely the alcohols fault. scooping some cold water into his cupped hand, jean gulps it down and tries to cool the heat painting his cheeks and swirling in his gut.

bride of fucking frankenstein. is that why you’d asked what he was dressing up as? he groans, pressing the chilled tips of his fingers into his temple, mindful of the black face-paint stitches adorning his forehead. jean has spent almost 2 decades carefully steering you towards costumes that were safe—cute and perfect for the best of friends. jean has long since had his grand epiphany, long since resigned himself to keeping it all to himself, long since mourned the loss of what might have been. but he cannot risk a lifelong friendship with you on a gamble of ifs and maybes. so he straightens his jacket, plasters on his brightest smile and heads straight for you.

“well well well.” he drawls, coming up behind you as you’re mixing a drink. the sound of his voice has you sucking in a breath and turning to him with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

“couldn’t help yourself, huh? guess you’re just obsessed with me.”

you grin, glad that he seems like the jean you know and love. “please, this was a last minute ditch effort.” you shoot back, “i just couldn’t find anything else that looked okay!”

“ohh of course. forgive my wildly inaccurate assumption then.”

you chuckle, handing him a drink as you pour yourself another. “seriously though, dyou hate it?”

jean frowns over the rim of his cup, taking in your doe eyes and vulnerable expression that point to you being serious. “hate it? what would i hate it?”

“i don’t know.. you wanted to dress up alone this year so.. i thought you might be disappointed.” he stares at you blankly, cup hovering away from his lips. he’s got such pretty lips, you’ve always thought so. it would be.. weird to tell him that, right? though it’s probably weird how hard you’re staring at them right now and—oh god you’re staring.

“you wanted to dress up alone!” he says, confused.

“wh—i didn’t! i suggested it for you but.. i love our couples costumes.” you give him that shy smile that he adores and jean feels his insides turn to jelly. you have to know what you’re doing. you’ve baited him—hook, line and sinker and like the lovesick little guppy that he is he’s latched on and being stripped of oxygen.

“couples costumes?” he breaths.

“yeah i mean, we’re kind of like a couple.” you shrug, and jean almost faints. “we do everything together.” oh god, you need to shut the fuck up before you ruin everything. before he calls you out for overstepping and—

a whirlwind of colour that takes the form of sasha in a willy wonka costume (complete with crumpled wrappers spilling from her pockets) is suddenly ushering you both towards your group of friends before jean can respond and you can apologise. she pushes you down into the circle that’s forming, empty bottle of corona sitting menacingly in the centre.

jean groans, running a hand through his hair in a way that you can’t look at for too long or you might do something you’ll regret.

“what’re we? 16?” sasha just sticks her tongue out and slots down between macro and an on-the-verge-of-passing-out connie.

the games a hybrid—spin the bottle and 7 minutes in heaven, with people bending over the circle for a peck on the lips while the current 2 victims occupy the storage closet at the end of the hall. you find your eyes are focused on the fascinating items on the shopping list stuck to the fridge as jean locks lips with a pretty little blonde girl—hitch, you’re pretty sure. you don’t notice the glares that your best friend sporadically shoots in reiners direction when the bulky blonde kisses you for a little longer than necessary, earning whoops and cheers from your giddy friends. when the flick of erens wrist dictates that you and jean are next for the closet, the whole group groans.

“what?” floch says, clearly confused as to your apparent reputation.

“these are the worst.” mikasa deadpans, earning a playful shove from you.

“we are not!”

“what, they fuck super loud or something?” floch asks. jeans cheeks are reddening at the implication.

“hardly.” connie mumbles, suddenly following the conversation. “last time they were in there forever, found ‘em passed out after watchin’ a movie on his phone.”

you smile, pushing yourself up and extending a hand to jean. “i’m thinking insidious 2? maybe the conjuring?”

“stop. you know hocus pocus is more my speed.” he matches your smirk and laces your hands together, your friends’ booing accompanying you down the hall as you make your way to the closet.

you’re both settled on the floor, backs against the shelves and scrolling through jeans phone to find a movie. it’s dark, the only light coming from the small screen, but he can still see the outline of your figure in his peripherals, pressed up against him with your head on his shoulder, where it belongs.

“hey.” he finds himself blurting out. it’s the familiarity, the closeness that’s loosening his lips and making his iron resolve crumble.

“hey.” you smile up at him, and as he skims over your face, long lashes swept with mascara, pointed brows and lips sculpted with a dark crimson that almost looks black, jean has the startling urge to confess that he’s hopelessly, desperately in love with you.

“did you mean it? before..”

“what?”

“that we’re like a couple.” he presses.

“oh, i—” theres an apology on the tip of your tongue that somehow morphs under the intensity of his gaze, warm eyes piercing even in the low light. “i mean, we are, aren’t we? strangers always think we’re together. we’re just not, ah.. intimate like a couple.”

jeans ears are ringing. what might have been is beginning to look like what could be, what’s right at his fingertips.

“do you want to be?” it’s barely a whisper, his face so close to yours that when he swipes over his lips you can feel the heat from his tongue. your gaze flickers down, glued to his lips, and without a second thought you find yourself nodding.

“are you sure?” this time, he’s so close that you can feel the syllables against your lips.

“kiss me.”

and jean does not need to be told twice.

it’s a chaste thing, a sweet thing. just skin against skin. you both share a sigh against eachother and it’s filled with so much relief, so much longing that it’s only natural for his hands to make their way to your cheeks, coaxing your head back as his tongue starts to lick into your mouth.

wet smacking and heavy breaths are fogging the space of the closet as your hands curl around his wrists. jeans hands cup your jaw, a breathy chuckle bubbling up when he rests his forehead against yours. it’s so infectious that you find yourself giggling along with him, mirroring the shapes he traces into you on his pulsepoints.

“you have no idea.” jean finds himself mumbling between slow savours of your lips. “god, you drive me crazy.” and you do. he thinks he can feel his fucking brain chemistry altering with every brush of your tongue against his own.

it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore the desire pooling between your legs at the feeling of your best friend cradling your face like you’re made of glass and kissing you until you’re dizzy. your limbs feel phantom as you slowly push him against the shelves, your thighs finding purchase surrounding his long legs and hands slipping into his hair. his phone is still on somewhere, cool-blue light casting shadows over your figure. even straddling him, you’re only marginally taller, but jean loves it, your pretty face there for him to behold and your tits squished against the confines of your corset at the perfect level to latch onto. your cleavage being on display is more of an obvious byproduct of having breasts as apposed to a purposeful attempt at being alluring, but jean thanks whatever deity is looking over him and happily sucks a trail of bruises into the soft skin before him. he can feel your breathing increasing with every graze of his teeth, every violet mark etched into your skin. and when he delivers a particularly harsh nip, your thighs clenching around him and your grip on his nape tightening, jean thinks he has to be ascending.

the tent in his pants is considerable, poking into your core even through the whispy layers of your dress. large hands have settled on your waist when you start to rock in his lap, a sputtering groan spilling into your chest as his dick twitches in anticipation.

“fuck, jean—i need you.”

he’s frantic, bunching up your dress to expose your bare thighs and dampened panties. he perches you over his dick, stifling a moan from the pulsing heat of your cunt radiating against his bulge. the movements of your hips are aided by warm hands settled on them, grinding you against his cock as you gasp and moan at the friction. he almost whines in response, fingertips digging into your soft flesh. “don’t—oh shit—don’t have a condom.”

he can’t form a sentence, let alone a coherent thought. but like the angel that you are, you do it for him, tug his face back from where it’s buried in your neck, smiling fondly at his lidded eyes and parted lips. “i mean, i’m clean. and.. on birth control.” you whisper, as if he wasn’t nursing you day and night after your IUD appointment. tucking a strand of hair behind the reddened tip of his ear, you press your lips to the stubble that peppers his jaw. it’s rough, mildly grating in a way that brings heat to the surface of your skin and has you wondering how it would feel against your inner thighs. “and i trust you.” you smile.

a confession is dangerously close to bursting from his chest. jean might as well just plunge a fist through flesh and bone, part his ribcage and present his beating heart to you. he would do it, if you asked.

“fuck, are you sure?” he’s blindly scrambling for his phone. “i—i’m clean and everything but are you sure?” and suddenly the screen is being lit up in front of you with goddamn test results. you laugh, because it’s so sweet and so jean—giving you peace of mind despite your assurances, checking in on you again and again because he cares. you pull up your own recent results and present it to him, his eyes barely flicking over it before his gaze is relocked with yours. you chuck your phone to the side, palming his bulge in languid strokes with your free hand and shuffling down the length of his legs. “never been more sure of anything.”

jeans so hopped up on endorphins, on the taste of you and the arousal searing his skin that he hardly notices you flicking the clasp of his belt buckle. he’s shook from his stupor when he feels the cool air hit his dick, tip shiny with so much precum that its started to drip down to his balls. you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the slight curve of his shaft, the bulbous head and mushroom tip, the length of it has your eyes wide and mouth pooling with saliva. you delight in the way his cock twitches and he shivers when you blow against his wet slit. and when you wrap a hand at his base, immediately pumping him with slickened strokes, he reels, arching into your touch and slamming a hand over his mouth to muffle his groans.

oh god, oh god you’re gonna ruin him, thumbing his slit and squeezing his cockhead until he’s leaking into your hand and planning your honeymoon. pink darts from between your teeth and you press the flat of your tongue against him, salty liquid bursting across your tastebuds that has you humming and taking the tip of his dick into the wet heat of your mouth. jeans nails are digging bloody crescents into the skin of his palm as he tries to hold back the sounds of his pleasure, but when you suckle on his slit and swirl your fucking tongue against the sensitive underside of his cock, jean feels his balls tighten and flames ignite under his skin.

“shit—shitshitshit wait!” and you’re pulling off of him with a lewd pop and a ditzy smile. there’s a string of saliva and pre that tethers him to your lips and jean doesn’t think you’ve ever looked so beautiful.

“god you’re so..” jeans panting, scouring his lust-dipped brain for a word that does you justice. his reaction has you preening, dragging down your panties and pecking his lips with a grin. “so’re you.”

your thighs return to their place around his hips, the bare heat of your sexes mingling when you press your clit into the underside of his shaft from its place against his stomach. jeans hands are guiding your mouth to reconnect with his, desire clawing at his chest. “let me taste you.” he breaths.

your pussy flutters at his request, baritone syllables making more slick ooze from your slit. “as much as i would love that,” you link your hands around his broad shoulders, pressing your weight into your knees to position his cock over your dripping entrance. you can see the beginnings of a protest shaping his pretty lips that you’re quick to silence, “i want you to cum.” and when his dick is enveloped with hot, wet softness, jean can’t do anything but gasp.

while the tightness of your cunt is threatening to milk him dry, he knows this can’t exactly be comfortable for you, the wetness of your shared arousal doing little to compensate for the lack of prep. gentle rolls of his hips accompany soft words and presses of his lips to the trail of bruises along your chest. “shh, you’re okay. it’s just me, just focus on me.”

slippery circles are pressed into your clit that have you relaxing under his touch and clenching around his cock simultaneously. “look how good you’re doing, baby.” he whipers, your hazy eyes blinking down to where you’re connected. you haven’t taken all of him, though he doesn’t seem to mind, his thrusts picking up and settling into a pace that has your toes curling. one of your hands slips from around his neck in a stubborn blur. he has to cum first. jean does more for you than he probably realises, doting on you like the angel that he is. they’ll be time for more later. but he has to have the first. your fingers trail the soft skin of his sac, nails grazing the cropped hair at his base that has him shuddering beneath you. you can almost feel his load churning under your touch when you roll the heavy weight of his balls between your fingertips.

electricity is sparking between you—it’s under your skin and in your gut and tethering the beating muscles in your chests.

“i—have wanted you—” his words are choked, impending orgasm a breath away, “—for so fucking long. i fucking—i love you. i’m so fucking in love with you.” his confession comes as he does, searing heat from his release coating your insides and splashing through the depths of your cunt. your foreheads are pressed together as you gasp and whisper against his lips, jeans hips fucking his load into you as he helps you chase your own high.

“i love you. always have.” it’s a little slurred, a little breathy. but when jean feels your pussy squeezing him in a vice, slick sounds of arousal bouncing off of the dark walls of the closet, he doesn’t think it could be any more fucking perfect.

-

reiner has his tongue shoved down bertls throat when you both emerge, blinking at the harsh light. the group doesn’t even give you a second look, at first. when reiner pulls back, leaving the brunet with pink cheeks and wide eyes, jean is the one to clear his throat and direct their attention to your disheveled figures.

“we’re, uh, we’re gonna head out.”

your hands are intertwined. which isn’t a foreign feeling at all, though his cum dripping down your thighs is certainly new.

“no fucking way.” connie seems to have sobered up exponentially, eyeing your mess of hickeys, wrinkled clothes and jeans wild hair.

“i’ll be damned.” erens smirking with his brows raised as you manoeuvre the little crowd and head for the door. throwing a quick wave over your shoulder, you flash a sheepish smile to your friends, stumbling out a goodbye as jean tugs you out the door.

“uh, happy halloween guys!”

as soon as the door slams jeans pulling you in for a kiss. his lips are quickly becoming your favourite thing so you are not complaining, looping your arms round his waist to pull him further into your orbit.

“so.” you muse, “what’re we now? like.. fuck buddies?” you joke.

jean thinks on it, dramatically squinting his eyes and humming in thought. “i’d prefer the term smash bros.”

the look of disgust that colours your face as you shove him away and head down the street has laughter bubbling in his chest and his hands pulling you flush against his chest.

“you’re so stupid.” you pout, barely masking your adorable smile. “can’t believe i slept with you. can’t believe im in love with you.” you’re teasing him, taking his lips for yourself and giggling against him. but if he’s being completely honest with himself, jean can’t fucking believe it either.

#: @luvkun4 @sheluvzeren @oxygenstarrved @wh0reforlevi

#jean x reader #jean x reader smut #jean x black reader #jean smut #jean kirstein x reader smut #jean kirstein smut #jean kirstein x reader #aot x black reader #aot x reader smut #aot x reader #aot smut #aot x you #aot x y/n #iyrtycsm collab #jean x you #jean x y/n

[yourlocalstranger123]

Genshin. ~Aether x Reader~

-Don't go. Stay-

Part 3

!¡Warning¡!

Smut, bondage, unholy words, sub! Aether, dom! Reader, female and male reader, hair pulling, so minors. Do not interact!⚠️

Both have f! And m! Reader

If you do not like it, I understand. It's my first time writing smut 🥲 also this is pretty long.

I need help with my choices rn

People who asked choice C -private-

@raesleepyhead @jamieswings they didn't know what was coming...

Sorry, I tried to find a perfect image without *cough* *cough* being specific so I just had to use Google it came from Pinterest and it didn't tell me the artist...

.

.

.

~★

Choice C has been chosen

"Oh? Well, I can do this one."

Aether tilted his head in confusion. He moved closer so he can see what you chose....

"...! W- wait, you are actually doing it?!!?!" He blushed. Feeling flustered, he covered his face with both of his hands.

"Did you perhaps didn't want to?"

He shakes his head as a sign of no. He went to the bed, waiting for you. You got something in return for granting his wish.

[I'm re-thinking my life choices rn]

{Bold is the reader}

[And when he says your name]

Male! Reader

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

He looked so pretty tied up in red ropes ♥︎

As you trailed down kisses on his neck, he whined. Trying to unzip your pants with his mouth. But when he saw your cock, he widen his eyes. He wondered how it's gonna fit? You reassured him that it will. You were just joking around, opening the cabinet to find some lube. To your surprise, there was a bottle of lube. Half used.

"My my! I didn't know you would do such things behind my back. Do you perhaps imagine me fucking your brains out?"

Smirking at his little attempt to look away. His throat was dry for words. He could only whimper at your words, you put a good amount of lube. Shoving a finger inside him, he arched his back trying to bite his lips to refrain his moans. Archons, your hands are too big! He can just even cum from it. You kissed him, licking the blood.

"Don't do that, your hurting yourself. Plus, I want to hear you. But even if you still do, you'll still be screaming my name in the end anyways."

Before he could answer, you shoved a second finger into him, he lets out a moan. Scissoring him even though he felt too much stimulation. You didn't even notice he came.

"T- too sensitive! Hgnh-"

He whined you to stop. His mouth doesn't match up with his body grinding into your fingers as you put a third one.

He frowned when he felt the loss of contact, he was about to say something until you kissed him. Muffling his moans in the kiss. You untied him and he thought he was free but until you griped his wrist and tied it to the bed frame.

You opened his legs, struggling to keep them close but stopped after you bit his thigh.

Very soft

You went between his legs, and before he could process it, you shoved your cock in him.

"HnGHHhH~! N- name! To m- much!"

He choked out a sob. Feeling pleasure and pain flowing through him, he couldn't think straight anymore! Only thinking about your cock. He wonders if three fingers are even enough! You made him all putty in your hands. You let him adjust it until you slammed into him once more.

Choking out a sob, he was a moaning mess.

After he came, you got your cock out of him but he tries to put it back in, grinding in the process.

"*hic* p- please name! Fuck me more! Let me touch you! Please! Cum in me!"

He begged you, sobbing when he didn't feel you. You kissed the tears away, rubbing his back to Soothe his cries. As soon as you untied him, he pushed you down on the bed. Putting his hands on your chest. Grabbing your cock to align it to his hole.

Slamming down, he stopped himself from cuming, edging in the process. He bounced on your cock, saying muffled praises about how good your cock feel inside of him.

You pushed the bulge that you made, that send him to Celestials. You continued fucking him, chasing your own pleasure. As you finally came inside him, you looked up to see aether passed out, smiling.

Of course, you cleaned him. Putting him in some comfortable clothes before cuddling him. Wrapping your arms on his waist.

Female! reader

{Bold is the reader}

[And when he says your name]

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

He looked so pretty in red ropes ♥︎

He kept squirming around, he wanted to touch you! He just wants to stuff his face into your chest :( can't blame him. It looks really soft

"You can take 1 round right? I know you can. If you do, I'll set you free."

He nodded, he tried to keep calm but wanted to be inside you so badly! Whining, you started stroking him. Whimpering at the sensation, he started moaning. But tried to refrain it by biting his lips.

"Hmm, let's not do that, shall we? I like how my name sounds when you say it. Even if you still do it, I'll make sure to make you scream it."

As you whispered in his ear. He tried to hide his face in your neck from you seeing him being flustered. You stopped, his breathe hitched from the loss of contact. He looked at you, about to say something until you slammed down on him.

"H-Hngh!"

He choked out a sob, he felt so good! He arched his back, as you grind onto him. He felt so happy when you released him from the ropes! He hugged your waist as you move up and down, Begging to cum.

"Alright, I'll permit you for being such a good boy."

The moment you gave him the permission he came. But you were still going, he trembled and became overly sensitive from the last one. He stuffed his face in your chest, giving a light squeeze.

"T- too sensitive! I can't, please N- name!"

Although he says that, his body doesn't match up the way it buckled his hips into you. You both came, patting his head saying compliments of how good he is.

Smiling happily as he rests his tired state on you, laying on your chest....he fell asleep. Of course, you woke up before him so you got him cleaned.

:D

#smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #aether smut #genshin aether #genshin impact aether #genshin aether x reader #aether #aether x you #aether x y/n #aether x reader #aether x reader smut #part 3 #part three #sub aether #sub character #sub genshin #sub genshin impact #sub!genshin x dom!reader #dom reader #dom!reader #dom male reader #dom fem reader #sub smut #genshin impact #male reader #female reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #sub aether x dom reader

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

You ask for more angst prompts and you shall receive!! *scrolls through the prompts list to find the angstiest combinations*

43. “I’m tired of being on the sidelines.” 34. “Just when I was about to give up…” 44. “You actually came back.”

I love my Adam angst, and this one may be a bit generic but it's a twist I haven't quite seen yet: Lilith comes back, and of course she and Adam don't get along. Luci has to make a choice, but doesn't want to, until Adam gives him an ultimatum because he doesn't want to be a sidepiece. "You go figure out what you want with Lilith and what you want with me, and if you decide you'd rather have me than her, come back and find me." He waits and waits and almost gives up, thinking Lucifer chose Lilith after all...

Anyways, those are just ideas, not requirements! Have fun with it!! Take it wherever!!!

Indigo (can I also give prompts that aren't from the list? /nf)

Gotta love hurting my boy 😈

When Lilith came back to the hotel announcing she was here to take Lucifer back, it started a screaming match between her and Adam. He yelled about how she's been gone and now he's here. She laughed in his face calling him every name in the book and he fired right back into her.

Adam looked to Lucifer, to defend him against this first class bitch. But all he got was a conflicted look.

Lucifer didn't want to choose sides. He was in love with Adam yes, but Lilith was also the mother of his child. That meant something. He didn't miss the look of hurt on Adams face.

Now they were alone talking. "All you had to do was tell her to back off of me."

"It's not that easy."

Adam scoffed. "I'm pretty sure it fucking is." He looked Lucifer over and slumped a bit. No. "Do you still love her?"

"No! Maybe, I don't know, it's complicated." Lucifer really didn't want to pick between them. He'd be hurting someone either way.

Adam scowled at him, anger bubbling. "You know what. I'm tired of always being on the fucking sidelines. Why don't you think about what you want, if it's me or Lilith. If you decide you actually want to be with me, I'll be in my room. If I don't hear from you by sun up we are over." Adam had a lump in his throat just saying that. "You need to make a fucking choice."

So now Adam sat in his room, waiting to see if Lucifer would choose him. For once he wished he would choose him over that bitch.

Adam's eyes were tired, he looked to the clock. Sun up was in an hour and no sign of Lucifer. His heart broke, knowing that he was never going to the king's first pick.

He didn't have to be up until eight, maybe there was enough time to cry himself to sleep....

A soft knock came to his door. Did he imagine it? Adam got up and went over to the door, he opened it to reveal Lucifer standing there, roses in hand. "Sorry it took me so long, roses aren't easy to come by in Hell."

"You came back." Adam felt his heart flutter and eyes water. He chose him? For real? "Just when I was about to give up...."

"Of course I came back, I'd never want to lose you. May I come in?" Lucifer flashed him a smile and offered him the roses.

Adam took the flowers and looked at Lucifer. "You may." He set the flowers down on his desk and yawned. "I'm fucking tired."

"Let's get some sleep." Lucifer said holding out his hand. They climbed into bed, Adam being spooned and their hands laced together.

Best night sleep he got in a long time.

#adamsapple #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #ask

[pupyuj]

YOUR FILIPINA!YUJ DRABBLE???!?11! WE NEED MORE !!

pardon my wonky tagalog.. kailangan ko magbasa ng tagalog books i swear idk a lot of words anymore bwiset 😭😭

MMMFJDJDJSK OKOKOK i've been thinking about this one for a while bcs filipina yuj is definitely just.. a fucking tomboy like she's annoying as fuck but she's so handsome and charming??? 😭😭 wala ka na lang magawa kundi mahulog diba... 🫠 but anyway, what ifff she's like a basketball player (bcs everybody in the ph is, apparently.. mga kaibigan ko rin potek 😭) and she's giving it her ALL in the court to impress you bcs you're watching from the stands 😳😳😳 wearing her jersey and everything.. eyes focused on her as she moved about in the court... but see, you happen to be a very popular girl. sobrang cute pa so naturally, everyone was vying for your attention even though they know you're yujin's 🤨🤨

usually yujin doesn't let it bother her bcs at the end of the day, she's the one getting to kiss you and fuck you but she was quick to lose her cool when the captain of the opposing team starts talking to you⁉️⁉️ binobola ka putangina... ikaw naman nagtatanga-tangahan pa... kunware di mo alam na nilalandi ka kase ang kulit mo rin 😭 you like riling yujin up, it makes her even better at the game! and at fucking you but that's a topic for later :))))

and ofc yujin wins the fucking match for her team,,, absolutely destroying the enemy and shooting a smug grin towards the other captain who was seething,,, and then everybody was cheering for yuj... singing her praises n everything but she ignored everybody and made a beeline towards you, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the crowd... you waved at your friends with a cheeky grin and a wink, being fully aware of what was coming.. 😉

yujin dragging you all the way over to her house⁉️⁉️ being so fucking lucky that none of her family members were around bcs she was sure that if her mother saw the way she grabbed your hair and pushed your back to the wall so hard your breath got knocked out of your lungs... she would get a beating 😭😭😭 yujin glaring down at you while you're smiling innocently, batting your eyelashes and all...

"hindi ka naman galit nyan? ang dali mo pala magselos, love—ah!" you winced when yujin pulls your hair down harder,, and she doesn't even say anything to you... she just kisses you roughly; biting at your lips, shoving her tongue down your throat, not giving you a break to breathe... and when she did she started attacking your neck, leaving all sorts of marks and bites across your skin, already blooming... fuuuck you could feel her hard-on poking at your thigh so you reach down to touch it but she slaps your hand away and bites your neck.. 😵‍💫

"you don't get to enjoy anything tonight, fucking slut..." she whispers against your skin, and soon enough your shorts and panties were off and you were bent over the couch,, whining and whimpering while yujin teased your entrance with her fingers... she wasn't even touching you properly, her fingers barsly ghosted over your folds,, forcing you to move your hips to try and make her touch you properly but yujin retracts her hand completely ☹️☹️

"fuck, yujin... just—" your words were replaced by a deep gasp when yujin just slams her cock inside you 🫠🫠 both of you moaning loudly in unison,, having to clutch the couch for dear life while yujin started pounding into you ruthlessly,, her grunting into your ear, biting your shoulder, and calling you all sorts of names and telling you all sorts of things in a fit of rage 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

"tangina mo.. sobrang landi mo... f-fuuck, so tight... mhmph!!" yujinnie grabbing your waist and pulling you to her cock as she thrusts into your hole, using her full length to the point where it almost hurt but you didn't care.. yujin using one hand to hold your head up so you could scream her name without anything getting in the way, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth bcs you were being fucked so good you didn't know what to do with yourself...

"ahhh.. ah—ang sakit.. ang sakit, yujin...!"

"t-this is what sluts like you deserve... stop complaining—shit! nagkukunwari ka pa... this is what you wanted, isn't it?"

mmsmsffdhdj yujinnie letting go of your hair but pushing your head down so she could fuck you even better 🫠🫠 "gustong-gusto mo to, diba? being treated like this... being fucked like this... nagsawa ka na sa tite ko?? kaya pala nakikipag landian ka doon?? ha?" yujin was saying while spanking you,, she has already left her hand marks on your ass,, it was sure to sting for the entire night 😵‍💫

ofc she gets whiny when she's close :((( whining right on your ear, hugging your waist, and suddenly becoming soft?? "i'm gonna come, (y/n)... lemme me come inside you.. mmh..." aaaa yujinnie digging her nails into your skin as she dumps her load inside your walls :((( her still thrusting into you while she's coming tho???? "come, (y/n)... you fucking bitch, come..." and ofc you do 🤤🤤 squirting all over yujin's cock while moaning her name 😵‍💫

hdsskdhdfjhksd and the night ends with yujin carrying you to her bedroom, putting you on top of her and she's brushing your hair with her fingers, massaging your sore body, rubbing her palm gently over the places where she hit you and occasionally kissing your forehead cuz you're her babyyyy 🥺🥺 this is technically her aftercare but she's got her cock sat inside your warm pussy throughout all of this so 😭 hehehe her being possessive all the time but it's like amplified after you've fucked?? like she just whispers some crazy shit (that you love hearing) to you while you're recovering...

"akin ka lang."

#ive smut #ive x reader #ive imagines #ive x fem reader #girl group smut #girl group x reader #girl group imagines #ahn yujin smut #ahn yujin x reader #ahn yujin x fem reader #ahn yujin imagines #yujin smut #yujin imagines

[lost-creatures]

"Hot Cougars in your area". She'd seen the ads a hundred times before, they were probably the only motherfuckers willing to advertise on these piece of shit message boards, and most of them were just scams anyway. This time though:

Reader Discretion Advised: Eaten Alive, hard vore, snuff, vomit, musk, yuri, t4t MINORS DNI

So I do as I'm told and walk away from my campsite in the middle of the night without telling anyone. We didn't have to go far— just some state park in the mountains above the suburbs. An arid montane scrubland echoed across the rolling surface, its reds and yellows muted to grey and blue in the winter moonlight. Three ridgelines deep into the mountains already. Just the hike to the backcountry campsite beat my ass, so my legs are screaming as I walk into the cold.

/

it was an unlicensed app, right? but you know the website seemed normal enough and i figured that if this worked, i wouldn't really care what they did with whatever got left behind. enough debt to buy a house i guess? i thought i'd been fucked anyway, made a profile and went 2 weeks without a response or message. they're just gonna rob me, huh? this is even better than Lex.

i really needed a girl to pin me down and start tearing into me, nobody ever goes hard enough goddammit. if you want something done right i guess you need to find the real deal.

i almost deleted the app, told myself two days in a row that i should. then, a photo, a mass, the clash of textures between corded muscle and gelatinous organ, heaped onto the dust at night. the kind of thing you'd see on a trail cam, but the angle was wrong.

how can i reply? i can't just hit her with the keysmash, how many women like her can even admit they'd want to do this to you. prey have to stand out a bit more these days, predator populations are way down.

"hey um, is that your work? i really liek it ;3"

fuck goddammit its over im fucking blowing it

"thnk u for noticing meeeee!~"

i'll just kms i'm cooked

"sorry i, the composition of the piece is very strong. the way the textures of the corpse contrast with the dusty landscape, acts to draw your focus as much as the border of the spot lighting and surrounding darkness. the off center lighting creates an almost sfumato effect along the massing, creating beautiful shadow shapes. would you want a new subject? ;3"

"Hahaha, you're cute aren't you?"

my rizz is unlimited

"We should meet. Do you know Henry Coe?"

/

Going back down the 22% grade is harder than climbing it and made even worse by the loose gravelly surface and the too many gin and tonics I had after we made camp. My boot catches a rock as I leave the trail and my knees hit the rocks. It hurts, but I'm having trouble finding the meeting spot, maybe some blood on the trail will help her find me. It feels like she's already on top of me. There's a pressure in the air and it makes every crack and shift in the earth reverberate across the slope. In that moment I can hear every motion every breath under the scrub. There's nothing, just wind howling over the crest of Mount Sizer. But I can feel her boring into me. I keep waiting for her to collide with me, knock me to the ground. I want her I want her inside me.

I want to be ready so I strip my torn clothing from my body.

This has to be the spot, the singular tree matches the photo she sent. I sit, bare ass shivering on the stone under the tree and wipe the fresh beads of blood down my knees, only managing to make a big red smear reaching halfway down my shins. The premix gin and tonics from the campsite start to fight their way back up my throat.

"I didn't think you were gonna show." she's smiling. Her stare pierces through me like I'm not even there. Its entrancing.

Her amber felid form followed my same path along the mountainside and into this depression. A little bit of my blood already stains her muzzle.

"You're Eloise? You know you shouldn't give your real name out to strangers on the internet, right?" She stretches the last word out, lilting, like she's trying hard not to laugh.

I'm struggling to respond through the boozy haze, the biting wind, and the nerves I get just looking at her. "i didn't really think it mattered" I uncurl a bit and she finally gets a look at my face. "can i know yours?"

She jumps, pounces, closing the distance between us faster than I can react. The full weight of her body hits me square between the breasts. Between her body and the rocks beneath every last wisp of air is pressed from my lungs. Her scent hits me all once as I gasp for air, she's actually wild, fuck. Her stink is acrid, acidic, astringent, its the kind of smell that sucks the moisture out of the air and dries out your mouth. I don't gag so much as start panting and straining towards her. "Its Tiffany." Planted on my sternum she makes every breath a labor and I barely manage to whisper a reply.

"i… i…"

I've wanted this for so long but I never thought I'd get this far. I have no idea what to say.

She shifts her weight into my guts and the sick I've been holding back overtops the lump in my throat and pours weakly down my chin. I gag into my chest as my entire body contracts and the waves of my vomit splash flecks of evidence into the fur of her breast and forelegs.

"Its okay kiddo, you don't have to say anything"

"please," I'm coughing up the heavier stragglers stuck in my throat, "you're beautiful" It just burns now. "i need you to take everything from me"

She laughs and looks down, guiding my eye to her massive paws pressing into the plush of my abdomen. To the contents of my stomach emptied over my still flat chest and softening waistline, dripping off in chunks. The tips of her claws poke from their cuticle in their round furred sheath. Fully deployed, each one looks like a karambit, sharpened just for me. She runs her paws gently over my belly, the touch imperceptable over that of the scouring wind, and still, red and black beads follow in the trail she leaves. The roughness of her underpaw brushes past my aching nipples. I can't help but gasp at the burst of sensation attacking my touch starved corpus. She cups her mouth over my breast and gently rolls the small lump of fat around with her tongue, punctuating herself by flicking the tensed tip against my nipples. I can barely process how desperately horny I am. Between my love life sequestered behind a screen and my newly sensitive flesh, I was unprepared. Warmth spreads where my cunt should be and I can't help but grind weakly against her soft underbelly. The first hardon I've had in weeks, I'm almost crying. She pauses a moment and grins down at my weak erection to let me frot against her own growing studded clit. She pins my wrists against the stony ground and puts her hips into it. I'm screaming, the feeling is so intense it almost edges into painful. She's growling feral in my ear, gravel infiltrating her saccharine valley accent. God Fuck please I need it its fucking happening. I shoot; I didn't even know I could do that anymore. The thin mucus spraying from my tip coats the gap between us and she thrusts harder against my pelvis. When she shoots, it hits me in the chin so hard I yelp.

"You really are cute. I hope I can keep you." Her voice trails off and she looks down at me with pity or maybe resignation.

Held down by her impossible strength, she pulls open the soft flesh of my belly like a ripe persimmon. I scream and the sound is deadened and hurried away by the gusts up the windward side of the mountain. Her snout pushes into the freshly wet cleft and I feel her buried deep inside my guts. She works her way underneath my ribs, my chest swelling at the foreign addition. There is a new pressure in me as she nibbles at my liver, the taut wet bulge of organ fills her mouth. I feel her tugging at me with suction at the back her her throat. Her teeth sink into me and the shifting cords of her stiff neck pull with enough force to tear the dark mass free. I sit in a howling void, fully part of that world. I am pure energy bursting forth from a charred vessel. Steam rises around the internal heat bleeding external, a pocket in our frigid night. Spread thin over the earth, I hope she makes eye contact with me while she chews at the choice cuts. She looks back at me, almost bashful at the intimacy held in our stares.

She lays by my side devouring me. Her cum pools in my jugular notch, stained pink with flecks of blood. A tongue like a wave of sand cleans my blood from my outstretched hand. She works her way between each of my fingers all the way down to the webbing. Rolling them over and over with that wet muscle. She knows exactly what she's doing, she's still finding ways to tease me back to ecstasy. In one smooth motion she pulls the hand into her mouth, laying the wrist perfectly along her incisors, canines neatly out of the way. And she bites, gently at first, and then the muscles in her jaw tighten and contract. Blood oozes forth and then sprays from the base of the bite. The radiocarpal ligaments snap apart in suddenly relived tension and her teeth smash themselves between my many carpal bones. My hand spasms, articulated by pain, and she rolls her bite just enough. The back of my hand hits the wet of her hard palate and every nerve in my hand screams as it comes away in her mouth. She pins the arm under her while she sucks at the meat of my hand.

its too much its everything im scared i cant

I come to and the wind's died down a little, the moon's not quite where it used to be. I guess you can live a pretty long time with your guts out and no liver. Longer than I'd have thought anyway. A stump of a wrist bounces off a rock as she drags me. The edges are black with either dried blood or frostbite. I'm not sure how much longer I have left, but every second I get with her is an eternity.

#₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ #my art

[sukunasun]

dont imagine jjk men as footballers 🥵

...don't think about my one true fantasy?

geto who plays with grace, with style, and little bit of chaos. who's so tactile in his approach, isn't afraid to get up close. dribbling with feet so quick as he thinks ten steps ahead of everyone, and sets up these perfect assists, serving goals on a silver platter for gojo. so ruthless and intelligent, with force and agility, he's passing and breaking through a team's flaws, seeing it all. too much space here, no one’s tracking them there. tearing through defenses with such ease it’s almost embarrassing. an opposing player who's brought down by a nasty tackle looks up at him and sees the face of a man who isn't sorry. wholly contemptuous, a tad bit mean, smug, still, geto reaches out a hand to help him on his feet, "eyes up, not on the ball," he says, and they take it as advice.

with his hair up and slipped under a sweatband, damp tendrils stick to his glowing skin. brings the edge of his jersey up to his face and pats it dry, gently. in the crowd, a fangirl almost faints at the sight of his toned abdomen and deep, v-line grooves. he'd blow her a kiss, or maybe a wink, but he reserves it for the twins who watch him at every match, in every country. does that thing for the photo ops where he laces a medal around their necks. bobbing heads of black and blonde, their feet covered in tiny team-branded socks, an exact replica of the ones he wears.

he's got a look—a glistening sweat-covered face, flushed pink from the tip of his ears to the cut of his cheekbones by the labor of playing a full game—oh he's not fond of it, of the grease, and the too-green smell of artificial grass. it's why he spends half a week's worth of pay on skincare and soaps. (uses those travel bags during away games, stuffs them full of mini cosmetics, and you can bet he will not share.)

until he hears you whisper, "i love you like this," while slowly peeling off his track pants and feeling his hardness bounce free. geto's a gentleman of course, but not when you've practically jumped his bones the moment he's stepped foot past your threshold, he'd give in, he'll be just as desperate, just as depraved as you are. taps his leaking cock against your lips in lieu of asking you to open up. taking it down your throat so deep your nose presses into his groin. he still smells of the gym, the lingering bits of his deodorant, and whatever it is that makes your eyes roll back, tasting like sin and salt.

he's got his chest puffed and head held high, probably the only person who puts gojo in his place, without having the pressure or any bit of inclination to praise him, worship him at his feet, who meets him where he's at. which is almost always right next to him, or from a corner flag, screaming at him to get back into position so he can make this free kick. 

——————————————————

or or ... hotheaded sukuna and his anger issues, his stubbornness. rough and heavy-handed. won't suggest getting in his way if you cry easily because he will headbutt and yell in your face. pointing a finger at a ref has never been so instinctual and necessary, has so little regard for the poor defender he chases down the field, they look back and hear his belittling little chuckle before the ball is stolen from their loose grip. with red and yellow cards piling up every season and he doesn't give a shit honestly. suspend him, call him out, he's been on the fifa game cover two years in a row and he'll keep the sponsorships anyways because the fans can't get enough, all the tattoos, dyed hair, bruises, and scars he wears with pride.

he must be a manwhore they think, what with an attitude and ego like that, but he's never had a cheating scandal, nor has he gotten his nudes leaked...no he won't fuck you in a locker room (as if that was possible) and he doesn't like parading you around online. "i don't want other guys looking at you," he says,sukuna has always worked for it, he just makes it seem like he's had it easy. which is why he's cuffing you almost immediately, putting a ring on it, and getting your name inked into his back. he knows it's lame and overdone, but he's just possessive like that. a man who makes it known when he fucks you after every win, every loss. taking his frustrations out on you, sinking his teeth into your neck, backshots and binding you to the bed. "you could have made that goal..." you tease, pricking at his ego, at where it stings the most, hoping that he lets it out when it'll only eat at him.

#im on the jjk wag squad gonna get myself a birkin and a balayage #forgive me for bein so inactive ive been in a wc bubble #sunpiece #saturated #geto suguru hcs #sukuna hcs #football au #geto x reader #geto suguru #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen

[themrsmunson]

18 plus only

Fucking Eddie against a tree in a storm (yes yes very dangerous I know do not try this at home!) fingering, implied pain kink, talk of witchcraft

Collecting storm water with Eddie (and then fucking against a tree)

"Babe we're getting fucking soaked here. Where the fuck did you get all these jars from anyway?"

You huff out a laugh at Eddie. "Eds you know I never throw jars away. Why do you think we go through so many pickles?"

Eddie rolls his eyes but can't hide the smile on his face. You've had him out in the pouring rain for 15 minutes now, placing your vast jar collection around the trailer in the hopes of catching as much storm water as possible.

"Anyway, it's been so dry lately - gotta take advantage of the rain babe!" You stand up stretching your arms up to the sky and swaying your hips, your eyes closed and the biggest smile on your face as you worship the much needed downpour. Eddie stares at you. He honestly can't think of a time you've looked more beautiful, maxi dress clinging to your curves, one strap already down your shoulder, your long dark hair plastered across your face.

You open your eyes and catch him staring. "See something you like?" you say, Turning to face him and lifting your dress ever so slightly, thighs tight together.

Eddie grins and lunges at you. You scream in delight and run for the woods, Eddie close behind. He soon catches you, as you intended and spins you round to face him as you squeal and giggle with glee. His Black Sabbath top is drenched, clinging to his body and his jeans are the same. You look him over as always absolutely amazed that you, the weird witchy girl with no confidence got this guy.

You kiss, manic energy immediately matched as the rain continues to pour down on you. He walks you backwards, holding your elbows tight until you feel the rough bark of a tree behind you. His hands roughly pull your dress up, handing the fabric to you. You take the hint and hold the skirt up, legs trembling as he makes his way over your throat and shoulders, intermittently kissing, sucking and nibbling your sensitive skin.

His hands now free of skirt he plunges his fingers into your panties, skirting over your clit and rubbing your wetness around. You gasp and he plunges two thick fingers into your cunt. "Good girl. Who's my good fucking witch?"

You cry out overwhelmed but wanting more. "Eddie fuck me". He spins you round and you brace your arms against the tree. You feel him pull your panties down and ready himself against you, cock moving along your vulva and knocking into your clit. You push backwards moving your upper body lower and you invite him in. He obliges thank fuck and soon you woods are filled with the sound of your pants, his moans, skin slapping skin and of course the relentless rain. You're soaked, in every possible way and you don't think anything will ever compare to this. The sex, the magic, the rain, him.

You start to whine and Eddie lifts one of your legs up, holding you and fucking into you at a new angle. You start to feel your orgasm building and use one of your hands to rub your clit. It only takes a minute until your screaming and shuddering, pushing back onto his cock and crying his name into the sky.

He follows soon afterwards, now pressed fully against you as he cums deep in your cunt. Your legs buckle and you both come to the floor, panting and laughing. You hold each other, wet from the rain, legs now covered in mud, as in love with each other as you've ever been.

You forget to bring the jars in the next day until noon. Your night time excursions causing you to sleep in later than intended.

#eddie my beloved #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson smut #stranger things #witchychick #hot witch #alfrescofucking #eddie x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie fanfic #eddie smut #smutty smut smut

[plentyoffandoms]

action andretti x darius martin x female reader??? threesome imagine???

Freaky (18+)

Darius Martin x f/Reader x Action Andretti

Main Masterlist ♡ AEW Masterlist ♡ Darius Martin Masterlist ♡ Action Andretti Masterlist

Warnings: Some swearing. Descriptive sexual acts. Oral sex, unprotected sex. wrap it. Minors do not read. Pure smut under the cut.

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Gifs & photos do not belong to me.

WC:615

Tyler - Action Andretti

YN'S POV

"Take him deeper." The man growled from behind me as he pushed my head down, taking more of his friends cock down my throat as he continued to fuck me from behind.

"Oh fuck, do that again Ty."

Tyler wrapped my hair around his fist and tugged so my head came back, and he quickly pushed my head back down, making me take Darius all the way down my throat.

I gagged, and that just made Darius buck his hips, forcing his cock even further down my throat, if that was possible.

"How does her pussy feel?"

"So God damn tight. Feels like she is trying to choke my cock." My squeezed my pussy and the groan that left his mouth would of had me whimpering if my mouth wasn't full.

Darius now has his hands on the back of my head, fucking my face, but then he pulled out. My mouth followed him as I wanted, no needed him to cum down my throat.

I could have cried at the loss of his cock in my mouth, but he leaned down, gripping my hair tight, making me wince.

"Does my girl want me to come down her throat?"

"Please." I gasped as he wrapped his hand around my throat, squeezing it.

"Maybe if you are a good girl, I will let you have some later, but first, I need to fuck you.

I strangled groan fell from my lips as Tyler pulled out of me, but Darius quickly took his spot.

My groan turned into a scream as Darius slammed into me, so hard that I would have pushed up the bed if his grip on my hips weren't so tight.

Tyler got on the bed and laid on his side, his hips at level with my face.

"Open." And I did as he asked.

He shoved his cock down my throat and humped my face. Seeming to match the same pace that Darius was doing.

This went on for ages.

When one of them would be close, they would pull away, making me cry or whimper as they moved my body into the position they desired.

I couldn't think straight anymore, not with how many orgasms I have had. My body is sore, but I didn't dare tell them. Besides, it's not like I could anyway. I could barely form a coherent sentence. The only thing that could come out of my mouth were their names.

I pulled my mouth away from Darius, and I cried out Tyler's name as I came once more all over his cock.

"So close. Fuck." Darius groaned as he pulled my head back towards him.

It was hanging off the edge as he slid his cock down my throat once more. I groaned when he placed his hand over the bulge in my throat that is his cock.

"Here it comes, YN." He roared just half a second before I felt him twitch and finally come. I swallowed as much as I could, not wanting to waste a single damn drop.

"Fuck that was hot." Tyler moaned as Darius pulled out of my mouth for the final time of the day.

Tyler pulled out of me and was jerking himself off as he came all over my stomach and chest.

"Shit, YN, we gotta do this again." Tyler said as he collapsed on the bed next to me.

"Yeah, and next time, we should both take you at once. Bet you would like that, huh YN?" Darius asked.

An image flashed through my mind of being between the two of them, as they filled me.

"Yeah, I bet she would like that a lot Darius."

Tag List: If you would like to be added, please let me know. @lghockey @crowleysqueenofhell @thenerdybaker523 @nicoleveno14 @1rsolideranna @legit9thlunaticwarrior @blaquekittycat @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @tahiri-veyla @malakaiblacksgirl1989

#aew #all elite wrestling #reader imagine #female reader #reader insert #darius martin fic #darius martin imagine #darius martin x reader #darius martin x f/reader #darius martin x y/n #darius Martin smut #darius martin x female reader smut #Darius Martin x f/Reader x action Andretti #action andretti x female reader #action andretti smut #action andretti fic #action andretti imagine #action Andretti x you #action andretti #wrestler imagine #wrestler x reader #wrestler x female reader #wrestler smut

[rockingrobin69]

Cheeky slide into your asks. I just got new glasses and that made me think of what Draco would be like, and how Harry would support him… Got any heart canons you’d like to share with me and the world? 💜💜💜

Robyn ☕️🐉

My dearest Robyn! Congrats on getting your new glasses, it is indeed a milestone! In celebration and love, here are ten moments from the time When Draco Had to Get Glasses

He cried. Literally. When the doctor told him the headaches might be because of something like this - something so simple, something solvable, not some - some punishment - Draco burst into actual tears. Harry had no idea what to do, so he just held his hand and then they went to get ice cream

Draco has this tendency to read things out loud. Billboards, signs, shop names, if it's written, he's going to say it, maybe even sing it. Harry finds it so bloody adorable it's maddening (also it makes him laugh his arse off. With Draco's posh drawl everything is extra funny)

He wanted to get golden frames. 'So he can match the golden boy'. Or maybe he just wanted to torture Harry, who knows

Harry has, erm, very recently learned you're actually meant to clean your glasses quite, er, regularly. Oops. Although Draco didn't have to breathe it down his neck in such a menacing tone

BIG NEWS: Draco is mortally afraid of anything going near his eyes. Contact lenses are a NO GO. Absolutely not, fuck off, Potter, this isn't going to happen! Get AWAY from me, you lunatic, you absolute-

It's funny though. How after screaming his ear off, cursing Harry within an inch of his life, Draco comes to cuddle around him on the sofa. The softest little kitten you've ever seen. Bites too

Harry is always happy to cuddle, so he doesn't complain. Even if Draco's new glasses are sort of digging into his throat. And it's actually quite painful. And actually

There was one moment after Draco's been in the bathroom for a considerable amount of time and Harry ended up knocking on the door, and Draco was crying in front of the mirror. He hasn't seen himself - not like that - in so long, and, and, all the, the scars and - and how can Harry even stand looking at him? and he had to hold him so so tight and whisper in his ear that he loves him loves him loves him and how terribly heart-meltingly beautiful he finds him and

They went to bed afterwards, still holding each other. And things got - well - a bit heated - sheets moved very fast, duvets flinging pillows thrown mattress - *crunch*. Oh. Oh no. Oh NO

Anyway they went to the shop to get new glasses the next day! And Draco's neck was so improperly red. It was, er, a short day. Outside the sheets I mean

#Drarry #Robin answers #robin hc #Draco wearing glasses #is definitely an idea I subscribe to #the lovely dragon

[barbiesbitch01]

A (Not So) Typical Friday Night

It was Friday night twelve o'clock in the morning to be exact, you had nothing to do but drink alone and take your nightly walk from the bar back to your apartment. During the walk back though you discovered a torn down decrepit building that looked like it should've been torn down but somehow it was kept up. "what the hell is this doing here". You thought to yourself. Already knowing that the choice you were about to make would become a horrible idea of regret later you finished the rest of your beer and headed straight for it. You did hear stories about the building being haunted or something about a deadite or woman who got possessed by some demon creature living inside, and tears guests to shreds but truth be told you've seen and found worse. Opening the door to the apartment building you walked inside and got slapped in the face by the worst smell imaginable. Rotting corpses with blood stains smeared all over the walls and floor followed by a high key screech that could make someone deaf. "What the fuck was that?". You asked yourself. You finally found the elevator, although it didn't work. It slammed open and shut several times as if repeating the same pattern it has repeated for years. Not really caring, you decided to take it anyway and headed up to level thirteen.  "Hello"? You called out softly. Nothing, not even a whisper of a soul present. "must be abandoned for sure then". Taking two steps forward from the elevator a small clicking sound echoed through the halls. "hello"? You called once more. Nothing. You took a few more steps and soon felt something breathe on the back of your neck. It was warm and cold at the same time. "Jesus." You yelped, jumping forward turning around at a neck breaking pace. "why are you here little one". A very gargled and low voice echoed through not only the hallway but your entire being. "um ....I uh…I'm just trying to explore the building". You said rubbing the back of your neck. Turning every which way to try and pin point the voice to the person. Finally you stumbled upon the room that started it all. Opening the door and walking in felt like you were signing your own death sentence. "hey um sorry for just barging in, I just wanted to explore the building but I think I'm just gonna dip". You said already halfway out the door. All of a sudden a hand colder than ice latched onto your wrists, turning you around at lighting speed pinning you against the wall. "woah"! You screamed, finally seeing the voice that matched with the face. "Wh-at is a suc-culent…delic-ious…body doing in my house?" She asked, almost slurring her broken words. "I told you already" you said trying to release yourself from her iron grip. "Fuck she's strong" you thought to yourself. Though you've never seen a woman like her before, her skin was leathery yet almost dry at the same time, her hair was red and Matty but also very very soft. And her eyes were like icicles, like knives digging into your soul almost piercing every inch of your being. She smelled like the world had literally quite ended, but it didn't seem to bother you. It sort of comforted you. She loosened her grip just a bit. Enough for you to not feel trapped but not loose enough to let you go. "stay with me" she said looking into your eyes almost like a lost puppy. Not being able to even muster up a sentence you feel her nose softly press against your throat, dangerously close to your jugular. Almost hearing her purr or is that a growl? What the fuck is this woman. "w…what um…what happened to you? You asked. The question was so quiet due to the fact you didn't want to trigger her. You didn't even know if she could hear. A long hot wet tongue journeyed its way from your throat to your jaw. A whimper slipped through your lips from the feeling, you hadn't been touched in a long time so let's just say you craved more than you thought. "p…please". You whispered softly grabbing onto the woman's shoulders. She twitches and backs away slowly observing you like her next catch. "What does my sweet little maggot want me to do to her baby?" she whispered in an almost demonic monotone voice. All of a sudden it clicked. The stories that you heard about the family that got killed all in the newspaper dug it's way into your brain. "no way, your Ellie" you said noticing the tattoos on her arm and the pictures around the apartment. The demon smiled widely showing her rotted teeth wreaking of blood and gore. She pressed her body against yours yet again putting her arms on either side of your head trapping you in her wake. Nothing you could say could explain why you decided to take the action you took, but you did. You softly pressed your lips against her wrapping your arms around her neck. The sound that rumbled through her chest could've woken the devil himself. The growls the strength and the act of animal instincts. It almost set your heart ablaze. She picked you up with her unhuman strength walking you to the couch the best she could in her hosts body dropping you on the couch crawling on top of you. She clicked and growled yet again making you shiver and shake with excitement and anticipation. Not knowing what she could do to you yet not caring what even happens. Kneeling down she crawls between your legs not daring to break eye contact. She wants to see what she does to you. "I wonder h-ow you taste little mag-got" she said lowly chuckling as she rips your pants off sniffing you through your underwear. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when she decided to remove her shorts as well and lay on top of you grinding her hips into yours with no care of what it would've done to you. At this point you were her plaything. Her toy. Hers. "Ugh fuck, god El" you said digging your nails into her back. She let out another growl "mommy loves you". A long shiver slowly made its way down the back of your neck to your tailbone. Her body started to tremble as if grinding into you awoke the demon within. Her tattooed hand took hold of your throat and lightly squeezed. You could already feel the pressure building from the beat of your heart through her hand and from your orgasm that's about to send you straight to the kandarian islands. "E…Ellie" you studdard, choking on your moans and whimpers. Ellie kept the dangerously slow pace making you feel every single ounce of her being. Marking you, making you hers. But it was at that moment you screamed in pleasure when she removed her underwear with a swift movement just to proceed rubbing herself against you. The screech that she released from the depths of her chest sent you to the edge of no return. She didn't want to hurt her plaything so she gripped the sides of the couch tearing into the cushions with each thrust she made. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, only this time the tracks you made on Ellie's back cut deeper than before and she loved pain. "does little maggot love when mom-my takes her"? She asked in a distorted tone. "yes please" you screamed. A few more deep strokes and you were seeing colors You never knew existed behind the hood of your eyelids. "Fuck mom-my!!!!" You moaned. Ellie let out the most primal scream you've ever heard. Like a lion finally proving to the kingdom that he is the alpha male. Coming down from your high you were sweating harder than you thought. All you wanted to do was explore and instead ended up having sex with a deadite, but what else would you have been doing exactly?  Getting drunk and high in your own apartment by yourself until the next day then go to work? Nothing could've ever been better than this moment right now. "little maggot stay" she said grabbing hold of you and cuddling you close as if thinking she would lose you if she didn't hold on tight. "little maggot stay" you whispered before you knocked out from exhaustion.

[bittermuire]

A bitter heart

rhysta or nesrhys one-shot because I can’t stop thinking about that one post that I can’t remember now about an arranged marriage between them

should be read in the context of none of the canon couples being together except elain and az (who are broken up) so the sisters moved into the townhouse for reasons idk. also the sisters and the ic are all relatively good people and the sisters are on good terms

--

There was a screaming match on Tuesday, and then? Absolute silence. Nothing from the either of them. Except the front door clicking shut early Wednesday morning, two pairs of boots absent from the shoe rack, and footprints in the thick snow leading out to the street.

No one says anything. They’re all wondering if they’ve imagined it.

Nesta and Rhys are a nasty, nasty pair. It’s a fact of nature that they don’t get along. If Feyre isn’t around to put out the burgeoning flames, it fans into an all-out house fire in seconds. They’ve become immune to the burns, mostly—but today feels different. The days after their fights are filled with dramatic huffing and clanging around of kitchen objects. ‘Get out of my sight’ and ‘what the hell are you doing here’ and ‘what are you looking at.’

But it’s Wednesday, and Nesta and Rhys are gone.

The rest of them sit in an uneasy quiet. Fingers tapping on thighs. Clearing of throats.

“So,” Elain begins timidly, “what do you think happened?”

.

About a month later, Nesta’s out on a date with Tomas. The boyfriend since her freshman year of college. They treat Nesta and Tomas as a two-in-one pair, existing as counterparts. Nesta without Tomas is, well… nicer. But nice Nesta isn’t Nesta at all—at least in the eyes of her family.

But anyway, Nesta’s on a date with Tomas. She’d bustled out of the townhouse a couple hours ago, dressed to the nines, face splattered over with irritation. The door had slammed shut behind her. “Why don’t they just break up?” Cassian had mused, hand in a bowl of popcorn. Az was about to put on a movie and shrugged. “Habit, I guess.”

It’s not until midnight that Feyre gets a text from Tomas himself.

She looks at it and frowns. “What the fuck?”

“What is it?”

“I got a text from Tomas. Is he drunk?”

Rhys grabs her phone and stares at the screen, eyes darkening. Without a word he gets up, pulls on his coat, and heads out into the snowy night. The door slams furiously behind him. The rest of them sit in the living room in an uncomfortable silence.

Thirty minutes later the two of them are back, Rhys’s coat draped over Nesta’s shoulders, her face tear-stained and blotchy. They don’t say a word to anyone or to each other—they just go upstairs, arms brushing.

.

The next morning is an interesting sight:

Nesta and Rhys at the kitchen table, nursing mugs of steaming coffee.

Nesta’s obviously just woken up with her tell-tale wire-rimmed glasses on (doctor glasses, as Rhys calls them, much to her irritation) and hands curled into the sleeves of her thick knitted sweater. Rhys, however, is hawk-eyed and focused at 7 AM, laptop open, pointing with one finger at the screen as he talks pointedly.

Feyre, Elain, and Mor crowd their heads together and watch from the living room.

“I think there’s an obvious solution,” Nesta interrupts.

Rhys shakes his head.

“No, let’s consider it,” she urges, and yawns, before saying, “I go to Tomas’s house and murder him. Just like that. Easy, simple, uncomplicated. Unlike… whatever you’re doing over there.”

Shaking his head again, he just reaches over and slides the coffee closer to her. “Please drink some more of this and let me handle it.”

“Let you handle what?” Feyre asks, walking in and sitting next to her sister.

“That little bitch who threatened to sue me last night.”

“Tomas? He’s suing you?”

“He’s certainly trying. For some reason he thinks I’m rich now. Because we live with him—” she grimaces in Rhys’s direction, rolling her eyes. He flips her the bird without looking up. “But Tomas has never been the smartest anyway. I don’t even remember what he’s trying to sue me for.”

“Destruction of property,” Rhys offers.

“That’s the one.”

Mor and Elain join them. “Are you guilty?”

“Yes,” says Nesta, earnestly.

“No,” says Rhys, with a sharp look.

Feyre frowns. It’s a relief Nesta hasn’t been sued before because she does tend to destroy property.

“But it’s all fine,” Rhys sighs, looking up from his laptop, “because I’m smarter than Tomas, and much richer.” He smirks in his classic way.

Nesta cringes and mutters into her mug, “Don’t make that face. You look like a cat.”

.

The first month Nesta’s been single has been hell on earth. She’s lonely but doesn’t like to say it. They can all tell and they suffer for it.

Rhys is in lighter spirits, though, which only makes Nesta grumpier.

He drags her out for coffee, for lunch, for walks, insisting that the winter sun will make her feel better, and then they come back an hour or two later practically hissing at each other. Today’s excursion is to be decided in the living room, where they’ve all just come back from work and are looking for a little peace and quiet before their dinner reservations.

“You’re not even coming tonight?” he says incredulously.

“No. I’m staying home.”

He crosses his arms. “I know you. You won’t ever pass up an excuse to dress up and make people stare.”

“That is not true,” she says haughtily. “People stare all on their own. It’s not the clothes, Rhysand, it’s just me.”

He heaves a sigh.

But bare minutes before they’re about to leave, Nesta descends the staircase in a stunning black dress, hair tied low and loose. She studies herself in the mirror as they all stare. She’s right, they know. It’s not the clothes. It’s just her.

There’s something unreadable in Rhys’s eyes as he takes her in. In silence the two of them face each other. He reaches and opens the door for her.

“You’re lucky I didn’t change the reservation,” he says quietly as she goes by.

She smiles. “You wouldn’t have the heart.”

.

Nesta and Rhys tell the rest they’re dating sometime in the new year.

Their feelings have been obvious for much longer, but no one says anything, because the townhouse is actually quiet now.

They act more like friends. Only the littlest displays of romance are shown around their friends—Nesta’s pinky curved around Rhys’s, a kiss on the cheek, an arm in an arm. They make a horribly snobbish looking couple, but a beautiful one nonetheless.

When they’re all a little tipsy, Cassian finally asks, “So when did you realize you actually liked each other?”

Nesta bursts into laughter.

“God, it was because of Tomas,” Rhys says, looking at her with a grin. “That fucker. Every time he was around I wanted him gone. And then I figured out why. Eventually.” He pokes Nesta. “Your turn.”

“I don’t know.”

“What?” Rhys looks vaguely heartbroken.

“I don’t know! It was a slow process. I didn’t have a moment. I’m not as dramatic as you.”

“I’m not dramatic—”

“You are. You are and you know it.”

“I am not.”

“Rhys, I won’t argue with you—”

Elain lolls her head back and groans, closing her eyes. Their bickering fades out to background noise.

The funny thing is, they’re not all looking for love but the ones who no one expected to managed it.

And that has to count for something.

--

my idealized rhys is a thoughtful intelligent guy who has lots of books and reads them and stays up all night going down rabbit holes on the internet because he just likes to learn. and I feel like nesta tones him down when necessary and in my head they are such a good couple. very expensive-looking and at times insufferable but meant for each other

#rhysta #nesrhys #nesta archeron #nesta archeron fic #rhysta fic #fluff

[wrdn-tabris]

a little life update :-)

(pls help i need advice)

so

i have this friend. two friends actually. i went to visit them recently (june)

friend 1, lets call her cat had asked friend two, lets call her bee, to move down with her. bee agreed. issues immediately started. bee was off her meds and didnt want to get back on them, and started picking fights with cat, treating her badly and etc bc thats what bee used to do when she still lived with her mom. pick fights when her mood dropped and get into screaming matches (tho its not like her mom didnt also pick fights with her)

cats telling me abt this at this time and i feel bad bc i feel like i wasnt being a good friend mostly bc i didnt have the energy to hear abt how terrible it was going for her. i was going thru a lot when it started which isnt her fault or my fault, but i feel bad for not being more supportive. so cat stopped telling me abt it, bc i didnt know what to do or how to fix things. i thought stuff resolved itself but i went and visited and it hasnt. really.

so i arrive. bee doesnt come with cat to pick me up, which, ok disappointing but i understood she was tired. she didnt come to eat with us either. which also sad

next day cat asks for some rent money to get herself lunch, bc she forgot to make smth to eat before leaving and cat couldnt and wouldnt give their rent money so she could get lunch. so she asked us to bring her lunch from mcdonalds if she ordered somthing bc she had points on the app, and we had to decide tht if we are driving tht far out to where she works we might as well do something over there. cat asks if we should invite her partner with us and i agreed bc i wanted to meet him. we go to pick up her lunch, she asks me to buy her something rather than ordering smth off the app, which, feels :/ to assume ill just buy it for her. i would have if she asked but she just sent me her order. mybe an asshole move of my to say 'uhhh sure if ur able to order it off the app???'

get the food, fight thru traffic to get to her, have to fight thru parking traffic to get out of where she works. we end up visiting this old military fort and hang out for a few hours and when we come back we think bee is asleep. its like. 7:30? 8:00?

so i try to inflate the blow up bed i got for them to use for when they have other guests sleep over and me and cats bf wake her up while im trying to figure out how to work it so she comes out and snaps at us. i apologize for being loud, promise to be quieter but im inflating the air mattress so i might be loud for a few minutes. the ENTIRE time im inflating it shes standing there arms crossed glaring at us and clearing her throat the entire time. and maybe its just me but??? i find that to be a little fucking rude tbqh. me and the bf are guests and its making me feel unwelcome and regretting the money i spent to come visit her. anyways cat comes out from the bathroom bc bee is still there clearing her throat with her arms crossed even after i finished fixing up the air mattress, and its quiet as hell bc me and bf are both uncomfy. cat gets mad and upset bc were guests in their home and she shouldnt be treating her like tht. shes upset we woke her up but surprise surprise shes even MORE upset i met cats partner before hers bc she wanted it to all be 'together' even tho i agreed to meet bf bc i did! want to meet him! and that we went to the fort without her.

anyways.

i apologize to her abt that bc i wanted to meet him but shes like 'no cat knew i wanted to do this thing' which fair.

the rest of the week goes ok. i get to meet her partner and theyre so nice and funny and i was super excited to meet them. we hit off great. we get lunch with one of cats friends, bee remarks abt 'oh i used to get so upset abt ppl being happier than me, enjoyed making ppl unhappy and would go out of my way to do so, bc i didnt like that they were happy and i wasnt' i buy bee a present for her birthday and u kno week ends i go home, and turns out bees partner comes out to her abt some things and bee freaks out, gets super upset and reacts really poorly. starts crying and going off abt being betrayed and etc.

turns out partner breaks up with her the next day bc they were uncomfortable with the reaction and then she starts crying and going off again abt feeling betrayed and upset and wanting to kill herself and tht they told her they loved her and would never leave and etc etc etc amongst other 'its not faiiiir' reactions. i still hold the opinion she was upset bc they broke up with her first.

cat calls her out for her behavior and that shes saying some very inappropriate things and tht ex isnt an awful person. bee ends up demanding all the gifts she gave ex back and wanted to know what ex would be doing with special gifts they got her before they both broke up.

i honestly end up quite. disgusted? with her behavior bc any time she broke up with someone while she lived separately from cat, shed ghost us and wed only get her side of the story. cat all but ends up moving in with her partner bc bee refuses to clean up after herself and keeps making a mess of things and its just a bad living situation.

cat tells bee tht shes not thinking of renewing their lease at the end of the year bc she cant handle living like this and bee lashes out. ends up making a mess of their kitchen and breaking some of cats things.

she also uses special non stick stuff of cats and uses metal on it (which ur not supposed to do) and keeps using cats own dishes and dishes she got from her grandma and doesnt clean them or anything.

my thing is. i dont know what to do. i kinda wanna stop our friendship bc im upset at how shes treating our other mutual friend. but i dont know if i should talk to her bc ive asked cat if i should try and talk to her to get her to see tht shes not being a good friend and cats told me not to, mostly bc she refuses to see shes wrong. im leaning towards wanting to follow her advice bc she has been living with bee but also it feels so scummy not to say anything esp when i know shes going to be going thru a difficult time in the next few months. however if i talk to her, i dont want to cause her to lash out at bee or have any of her things that are still at their apartment broken bc bees already proven to lash out and break other peoples things when shes upset at them, and i dont want to make it any worse for her.

bee would tend to ghost us when she was stll living with her mother, so much so tht we wouldnt hear from her for weeks or months, esp when she was feeling bad. i would try to reach out to her just to make sure she was fucking alive lmao. im worried if i were to reach out and ask abt all this and end with our friendship splitting off, shed do something drastic like hurt herself. i want to reach out and try to salvage what i feel is a dissolving friendship but i also dont want to be friends with this type of person unless shes worked on herself. i still love and care for her but like i know who i would stick by if i had to which... feels bad to say and sucks but th fact is i am closer with cat, mostly bc when bee would ghost us me and cat would still talk and we have more in common.

i want to talk and ask her why she would do and say these things and treat ppl she loves like this but ive been told not to but it would feel wrong not to at least. reach out. i dont know what to do.

AITA?

#cara speaks #the aita at the end is a joke but genuinely #i dont know what to do here #pls dont feel. obligated to respond to this or give advice i just do not know what to do

[the-wild-wolves-around-you]

hear those bells ring: chapter 10 (a bakugo x reader fic)

Summary: Aftermath of Bakugo and Reader's kiss with a touch of angst. (And a little more Bakusquad shenanigans bc I love them).

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo/Reader; Katsuki Bakugo/You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Adult language. Violence?

A/N: hey y'all, sorry about the delay. i got sick, then my keyboard died, then my country declared war on my uterus, so you know. it's been a month lmao. also, fun fact, this story garnered me my first hate message. apparently, as a millennial, i'm too old to be writing fanfic. :( so, sorry guys, i gotta pack it in and never consume or enjoy media again

anyway lol hope you enjoy this chap, and I already have the next one finished, just gotta edit. so that will be up sometime later this week. :)

~*~*~ No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.”

Ao3 Link: Here

Ch 1 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 9 Tumblr Link: Here

“You’re making a mistake, Stitches.”

Bakugo was close enough that his voice rumbled through you like a thunderstorm, and the space between the two of you was so charged with electricity you felt like you’d been struck by lightning, every hair on your body standing on end.

Then, before you could really process his words-- his warning-- he leaned down, slanted his mouth across you own, and stole all the breath from your lungs.

Your brain short-circuited for a moment, and all you could think of was how warm yet soft the blond’s lips felt against yours. Then your now sober mind started distantly screaming that this was not a good idea, but your thoughts all turned to static when Bakugo’s hot tongue traced the seam of your mouth. You gasped, and he seized the opportunity, that lithe muscle darting past your teeth and bringing with it the taste of sake and whisky and something else, something that you just knew was distinctly Bakugo.

The space between your ears was little better than cotton now, and your eyes fluttered shut as one strong hand threaded through your hair while the other latched onto your waist. Bakugo kissed with the same intensity he did everything else, and your body bent to his every command. The skin around his mouth was a little rough with stubble, and a whimper rattled in the back of your throat because it burned so good.

Your involuntarily noise seemed to spur the blond on because he tilted your head back for better access, his tongue doing its best to memorize every tooth and corner of your mouth. The hand on your waist tightened even further, enough to possibly leave bruises, and the thought made the apex of your thighs throb.

The lack of oxygen was beginning to make your head spin, but you couldn’t even find it in yourself to care as you fisted your hands in the material of his shirt, twining your tongue along his. You could feel his heart pounding beneath his ribcage, a frantic pattern to match your own, and you were just beginning to think you might faint when Bakugo ripped his mouth away.

“Fuck,” he panted, and you opened your eyes to find his red ones staring down at you from inches away. The red irises burned with desire in the low light of the patio, and his fingers flexed around your waist again, like he was having to restrain himself from pulling you back in.

You licked your lips, finding them wet and swollen, and Bakugo’s gaze tracked the movement like a predator stalking its prey. The intensity of his stare made your core throb again, and you opened your mouth— to say what, you didn’t know— but then the sound of a door opening went off like a gunshot, and Bakugo was propelling himself away from you like you were on fire.

You stumbled since you’d been leaning all your weight into the blond, and you were just about to ask what the hell when another voice cut across the patio.

“There you are, Stitch— oh, hey, Kats, you’re still here?” Mina asked as she came to a stop a few feet from the door and cocked her pink head.

Your mouth dropped open as blood rushed into your cheeks, and for a moment, you just gaped silently, your eyes flicking from Mina, to Bakugo, and back again. A million thoughts tumbled through your head like rocks in a dryer, clunky and loud, but before you could string even a few of them together, Bakugo scoffed beside you. The sound was sharp, abrasive, and it made you shrink into yourself.

“I told you to stop calling me that, Raccoon Eyes,” he snapped. “And I was just fuckin’ leaving.”

Then, before you could say a word, the blond stomped away from you and shouldered past his friend. He didn’t look back.

“Wait, wha—” Mina started to ask as she turned, but Bakugo slammed the door behind him and cut her off.

You stared after the explosive hero with wide eyes, and one by one, the neurons started firing in your head again.

Oh, fuck. What did you just do? And how much had Mina seen?

“Well, goodbye to you, too,” the pink-skinned hero muttered, and she rolled her eyes as she faced you again. “Sorry about him. I would say his mother should have taught him better, but if you met his mother, a lot of things would start to make sense.”

“O-Oh, no, it’s fine,” you said, your voice coming out more high-pitched than you wanted it to. You plastered on a smile, hoping to mask the freakout building up inside you like an impending volcanic eruption, but then you started wondering if Mina could tell your lips were swollen. Did they look red? Shit, what about your hair?

You recalled thick fingers twining through the strands at the back of your head, and your whole body flushed with heat.

No, bad, stop thinking about that. Be normal. Act normal.

“Uh-huh…” Mina said as she narrowed her two-tone eyes at you. “Sooooo, what were you guys doing out here anyway? The whole table’s been worried about you. We tried texting you, but then Kiri and I started searching the bar.”

“Shi— I’m so sorry,” you blurted out and fished your phone from your pocket, wincing at the several missed calls and text messages. “My phone was on silent. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you guys. I was coming back to the table, I swear, but then…”

You trailed off as you realized you couldn’t tell her what really happened. It was just a drunken, spur-of-the-moment decision to come outside.

Weren’t drunk when you kissed him, though, you made sure of that, a nasty voice whispered in the back of your head, and you suppressed a wince.

That may be true, but it was still a mistake, considering the way Bakugo all but ran away. He obviously regretted it— maybe he’d just be humoring sad, pathetic you— so he definitely wouldn’t want you blabbing about his error in judgment to his actual friends.

A painful ache began to throb in the center of your chest, the base of your throat, but you pushed it down and away.

“But thennnn…” Mina suddenly drawled and yanked you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see her raising an eyebrow at you.

You didn’t have time to craft an elaborate lie, so a partial truth would have to suffice.

“But then I saw Bakugo through the door, and I wanted to make sure he was alright,” you said. “I’ve gotten the impression that he doesn’t really l-like me, so I just wanted to apologize for crashing this night with his friends. O-Or at least that was the plan, but, um, some guys were smoking out here, and they started bothering me until Bakugo told them off.”

“Oh.” Mina frowned and looked a tad less suspicious. “Are you okay? Do we need to find those guys?”

“No, no,” you said as you waved your hands. “It’s fine, really. They were just drunk and trying to hit on me, but one look at Pro Hero Dynamight sent them running.”

You laughed nervously and tried not to fidget. You needed to be the picture of innocence, like someone who had not almost been caught making out with the Number Two hero in Japan.

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it.

“I see,” Mina hummed, but then her black-and-gold eyes flicked up and down your figure again. “Soo… when did Kats give you his jacket?”

Heat flooded your cheeks once more, and you suddenly became hyper aware of the warm weight on your shoulders, smelling of smoke and sugar.

“O-Oh, uh, t-that was—” Stop stuttering, stop stuttering. You cleared your throat. “That was right after those guys went back inside again. I was shivering, and Bakugo berated me for not dressing warmer. Something about not getting sick while I’m under their agency’s care or something. He flung it over me a few seconds before you walked outside.”

Mina’s gaze narrowed on you, like she was trying to find your weaknesses, find the cracks in your story, your resolve, but you just forced your cheeks up into another semblance of a smile and tried not to think of the sweat sliding down your spine despite the cool night air.

A beat of silence passed, then two, before Mina let out a sigh.

“That sounds like Kats, being a dick while doing a nice thing.” She shook her head, the string lights above glinting off the silver glitter on her horns and skin. “Try not to hold it against him too much. He’s actually a good guy under his sharp and unpleasant exterior.”

“Of course.” You nodded and did your best to push the blond from your mind. Then you took a deep breath and gestured to the doors. “Well, should we get back inside? I don’t want to worry Kirishima more than necessary.”

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Mina laughed. “Five bucks says he’s trying to get the bar owner to turn on all the lights while Sero’s trying to stop him, and Denki is crying at our table.”

“Do you really think they’re that worried?” you asked as your eyes widened.

“Well, yeah.” Mina laughed again and linked her arm through yours. “We like you, girl. Some of us maybe a little more than others, too, so don’t think you ‘crashed’ tonight. Katsuki just doesn’t like going out in public, so he’s always moody when we get drinks, that had nothing to do with you. Now, come on. We can probably do one more round of shots before Denki faceplants into the table.”

Your smile was a little less forced as the acidic hero led you inside, and you outright laughed when you discovered she’d been right. Kirishima was trying to get the lights turned on, but Sero was trying to stop both him and Kaminari, who was going up to the DJ on the dancefloor side of the bar and loudly attempting to take the mic and make an announcement.

Thankfully, Mina was able to drag the drunk blond back to the table, and Kirishima came willingly when he saw you wave at him across the bar. Back in your private section, the guys bombarded you with questions, asking if you were alright, where you went, if you were hurt. You quickly assuaged their fears and apologized for worrying them— while deftly avoiding any mention of a certain ash-blond hero— and you offered to buy the next round to make up for it.

That idea was immediately shot down, but they did agree to another round, so Mina flagged down a waiter while the guys herded you into the booth, with Sero and Kaminari on either side of you. The blond drunkenly leaned his head against your shoulder and begged you not to disappear again because it was his birthday, and you promised not to move as you awkwardly patted his head.

Kirishima shook his head from across the table, but then he caught your eye and mouthed, “Are you okay?”

You nodded and smiled, trying to look like you were having fun. And a part of you did. The drinks arrived shortly, and the table was loud with laughter as the heroes retold more tales of their youth and heroic exploits gone awry. You laughed and smiled along with them, even if you only sipped at your drink while they downed theirs and ordered more sake. They asked more questions about your past and America, Sero and Kaminari especially, and you did your best to make your boring life sound even a little bit exciting.

You must have succeeded because each of the heroes listened intently when you spoke, interjecting appropriate questions and tidbits here and there. You relaxed a little more with each story told and question answered, but you couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering past the wooden partition around the table.

Bakugo was gone, though, you knew it deep down even as you searched for a flash of ash-blond hair. You tried to push him out of your mind, tried not to think about the incident out on the patio, but as the night wore down and the talking petered out, your thoughts became consumed with how badly you fucked up.

What were you thinking, kissing a pro hero? You wished you could say you weren’t thinking, that you were drunk, but you stole that excuse from yourself the moment you used your quirk.

For a moment, the realization that Bakugo hadn’t been drunk either filled you with an emotion you refused to name, and you recalled the desire in his scarlet eyes as he clutched you against him.

But then you reminded yourself of how fast he pushed you away, how fast he’d fled the patio and didn’t look back, and you told yourself you had imagined the look on his face when he pulled away from your lips. It had to have been a pity kiss. Poor, homeless Stitches, who had no friends and couldn’t stand up for herself, who always need saving, who had failed the hero entrance exam twice and then fled America when she also failed to find a job in her degree field. Poor Stitches, whose greatest achievement in the last year was fixing an old lady’s fractured hip.

Pity. There was no other reason Pro Hero Dynamight would stoop so low as to kiss you. It was probably the same reason the rest of the heroes seemed so interested in you tonight. Part of it might have been novelty— an American civilian who worked a menial job— but the rest of it had to be pity. Maybe Kirishima had texted them all before you guys arrived and told them to just treat you nicely for the night.

This knowledge tied your guts up in knots, bile rising to the back of your throat. You were trying to center yourself by counting the fading bubbles in your warm, untouched beer when a large hand flashed in front of your face.

“What?” You snapped your head up to find everyone staring at you, Kirishima still stretched halfway across the table as he withdrew his hand.

“I was asking if you’re ready to go,” the redhead said with a soft smile before he jerked his chin at your side. “Denks just passed out, and that’s usually when we call it a night.”

You turned your head slightly to find the blond electric hero slumped in the booth beside you, his head tipped back as snores echoed from his slack mouth.

“O-Oh, yeah,” you murmured. “Sorry, yeah, I’m ready.”

“Cool, this way,” Sero said as he slid out of the opposite side of the booth and held a hand out to help you.

“Thank you.” You took his hand and gracelessly scooted out of the booth, blushing when you realized Bakugo’s bomber jacket was still draped over your shoulders.

Thankfully, Sero didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t comment, but his hand lingered around yours for a moment before he pulled away and turned to Kirishima.

“Alright, dude,” he said as he balled one hand up and held it on top of the opposite palm. “You know the drill.”

“I need to take Stitches back to the agency,” Kirishima argued with a frown. “You’ll have to get him tonight, but I’ll get him next time.”

“Uh-uh, don’t try and weasel out now, Riot,” Sero teased, and his mouth settled in an expression somewhere between a smirk and a grin. “It’s tradition. Besides, I know where your agency is. I’m pretty sure I could get Stitches back there just fine.”

He threw you a wink as he said that last sentence, and you flushed under his attention.

It’s fake, you reminded yourself. Pity.

“U-Um, what’s going on?” you asked, to which Mina giggled and looped her arm through yours.

“Just watch,” she whispered, and you turned back to the men to see Kirishima rolling his eyes.

“Fine,” he said and then held his hands out identical to Sero’s.

Wait, were they going to—

“Jan, ken, pon!” the two heroes chanted as they moved their hands in unison.

Yup, they were playing rock, paper, scissors.

“Ha-ha!” Kirishima cheered as his scissors cut Sero’s paper. “I win.”

“Shit,” Sero sighed, but another easygoing grin spread across his mouth a moment later. “You’re learning, dude.”

“Mina pointed out last time that I always start with rock, so I decided to change it up,” the redhead laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh, come on, Pinks,” the dark-haired hero groaned as he turned on Mina. “You threw off my winning streak.”

“I just evened the playing field.” She stuck her tongue out at him, but her two-toned eyes twinkled with mirth. “Don’t be a sore loser, Han.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sero sighed, but you could tell he was fighting back a smile as he rounded the table and came up to the opposite side of the booth. “Come on, Denks, up you go.”

The tall and lanky hero bent down and tossed Kaminari’s limp arm over his shoulder, coaxing the half-conscious blond to his feet.

“Are we… getting another round?” Kaminari slurred as he slumped against Sero, and his yellow eyes were struggling to flutter open.

“No,” Sero snorted and wrapped an arm around the blond’s waist. “We’re getting you home. Can you walk, or do I gotta tape ya?”

“I can walkkkk,” Kaminari whined and then immediately stumbled over his own feet, half careening into the table and rattling the dishes.

“Tape it is,” Sero muttered, and you watched as what looked like a white bandage slithered out of his elbow.

“Noooooo,” Kaminari half-protested, but he didn’t even fight it as the tape started at his feet and wound around his body, encasing him in a white cocoon. The adhesive strip came to a stop just under his neck so he could still breathe, and the blond pouted blearily at his friends. “I hate you all.”

“Love ya too, buddy,” Sero snickered before he turned to you, Mina, and Kirishima. “You guys ready?”

“Yup!” Mina chirped and tugged on your elbow to spin you around. “Onward!”

“Uhhhh, is Kaminari gonna be okay?” you asked as you were dragged toward the entrance, glancing over your shoulder to see Sero squatting down, picking up the cocooned electric hero, and throwing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Yeah, this isn’t the first time he’s been taped, he’ll be fine,” Mina giggled and then shot you a wink. “He might be embarrassed in the morning when he learns you saw him get taped, but he’ll survive.”

“O-Oh, okay,” you said, because what else could you say? This was obviously a normal end of the night for the heroes, so who were you to judge?

Mina expertly guided you out of the bar without drawing any attention from the lingering drunks, and when you glanced at the old clock above the front door, you saw it was long past midnight.

How did it get so late?

The cold night air hit you like a slap to the face as you stepped out of the bar, and you shivered, ducking a little bit into you jacket until you got a whiff of burnt sugar off the collar and remembered it wasn’t your jacket. Embarrassment crawled through your veins like ants, but you were thankfully distracted from the sensation by a commotion behind you.

“Damn it, Denki, stop struggling,” Sero huffed as he clomped down the stairs with a wriggling Kaminari still thrown over his shoulder. The pair came to a stop on the sidewalk beside you and Mina, and the dark-haired hero grunted as he shifted the blond’s weight. “Ugh, where’s Ochako when I need her?”

“If I’m so heavy, then put me down,” Kaminari said and continued wiggling. “I can walk.”

“Remember the last time you said that, Denks, and you ended up going to the hospital because you knocked out two teeth faceplanting into a curb?” Kirishima chuckled as he came down the stairs last.

“That was one time!” the blond whined, and he arched like a worm writhing on a hook. “And it’s my birthday! I shouldn’t be taped on my birthday!”

“Denki, if you don’t stop, I’m dragging you all the way home,” Sero warned, and he must have been serious, because Kaminari immediately stopped struggling.

“Fine,” he pouted. “I’m going to sleep, then. Take that.”

Sero rolled his dark eyes before they came to settle on you, and then a small smile tugged at his lips.

“It was nice to meet you,” he said. “I hope our shenanigans haven’t completely chased you off.”

“No, no,” you assured him quickly, and your own smile was only a little forced. “Tonight was… fun. More fun than I’ve had in a while. So, thank you for having me.”

Thank you for pretending, you didn’t say.

“Aw, you’re so cute and polite,” Mina cooed before she leaned over and smacked a kiss against your cheek, causing you to blush as red as Kirishima’s hair. But you told yourself that the pink-skinned hero just seemed affectionate with everyone, that was all.

“W-Wait, is that Stitches?” Kaminari suddenly gasped and renewed his struggling. “She’s still here? Sero, put me down! I need to say goodbye.”

“Oops, that’s our cue.” Sero smirked and glanced at Mina. “You coming, or making your own way home?”

“Someone’s gotta make sure you both end up home in one piece,” the pink-haired hero giggled and then held up the hand that wasn’t looped through yours, flashing the phone she held. “I already ordered us a car. They’re like a minute away and are meeting us at the corner down there.”

She gestured past Sero, and he glanced over his right shoulder with Kaminari still wiggling on the left one.

“Alright, let’s go,” he said before he flashed you one last wink. “Have a good night, Stitches. Hope to see you soon.”

“Y-Yeah, you, too.” You smiled faintly, fighting back you blush. He was just being nice, polite, he didn’t mean it. “Get home safe.”

“I’ll text you with my schedule this week so we can plan a girl’s day,” Mina said as she disentangled her arm from yours and pressed another kiss to your cheek. “Bye!”

“B-Bye,” you stuttered, waving weakly as the pink-skinned hero skipped over to Sero’s side, and then the two turned and started walking down the street in the opposite direction.

“Uh, bye, guys,” Kirishima called out after his friends as he stepped up next to you.

“Oh, yeah, bye, Kiri!” Mina blew a kiss over her shoulder while Sero half-heartedly lifted his hand but didn’t turn.

“Wait! Stitchessssss!” Kaminari managed to crane his head up just enough to catch a glimpse of you, and then he bucked right off Sero’s shoulder, tumbling to the ground.

“Oh!” you gasped, covering your mouth and glancing at Kirishima. “Is he okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” the redhead laughed, and he jerked his chin toward his friends. “See?”

You looked up in time to see Sero shake his head down at Kaminari, who had flipped over onto his stomach and was trying to inch worm his way down the sidewalk back in your direction. Sero muttered something to the blond that you couldn’t hear, but Kaminari kept crawling, so the dark-haired hero shrugged and started walking forward again.

“Noooooo,” Kaminari wailed as he was dragged backwards by the tape encasing his body, and he called out your nickname several times before the tape slithered up his neck and over his mouth, muffling his screams.

“I could have said goodbye to him, if it meant so much,” you said with a furrowed brow.

“We would have been here for another hour,” Kirishima chuckled and shook his head. “On his last birthday, Denki started crying about how much he loved everyone, and he wrapped himself around Bakugo’s legs, refusing to let go and causing a major scene. Which Bakubro escalated by blasting him off, but… yeah. This was as quick and painless as it gets.”

“If you say so,” you murmured, suppressing a wince when you saw Kaminari get dragged over the curb on the corner while Sero and Mina approached a waiting car.

“Sero won’t hurt him too much, just enough to hopefully knock some sense into him so they don’t get kicked out of the car.” The redhead smiled down at you reassuringly before he extended his elbow. “We should be on our way, too. It’s later than I intended, sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, really.” You smiled back and tentatively took his elbow. “I wasn’t lying before. I had fun. I just hope I didn’t embarrass myself too much or bore anyone with my American stories.”

“Are you kidding?” Kirishima scoffed as the pair of you started walking down the street in the direction of his agency. “Everyone loved you. And I thought your American stories were so cool! Especially the college ones. Bakugo and I just started climbing the hero ranks straight out of U.A., so the fact that you got a degree is really impressive to me.”

“Getting a piece of paper is definitely not as impressive as becoming the Number Three Hero by your mid-twenties,” you snorted.

“Nah, I mainly just rode Bakugo’s coat tails up the ladder.” The hardening hero shrugged, and you could see a faint blush stain his cheeks, but then he was looking down at you with a frown. “You talk down on yourself a lot, you know.”

“W-What?” Your feet stuttered along with your mouth, and you slipped off the curb and would have twisted your ankle if Kirishima hadn’t held you up.

“Whoops, careful,” he said as he literally picked you up with one arm— with you still clutching to the curve of his elbow like a kid hanging off the monkey bars— and set you back down on your feet. “You okay?”

“Y-Yup.” You cleared your throat and tried to fight back your embarrassed flush. Then you took a deep breath and watched your feet closely as the two of you started walking again. “Sorry, I’m just… stupidly clumsy.”

“There you go again,” Kirishima said and bumped his shoulder into yours, except your head was level with his shoulder, so he nearly shoved you off the curb again. “Oops, my bad. But seriously, Stitches, you shouldn’t talk down on yourself so much. Or apologize so much. I swear I’ve heard you apologize for breathing before. But you’re a genuinely cool person. You’re obviously smart, what with the knowing multiple languages, the degree, and you even own your own business! That’s so awesome!”

“I’m just a seamstress,” you muttered, and you swore your face was on fire now. You were anticipating actual flames any second now. You kept trying to tell yourself he was just being nice, but he sounded so genuine, so earnest, and you didn’t know what to do with that.

“You provide an important service to the public,” the redhead corrected, bumping you with his shoulder again, but much softer this time. Then he smiled down at you, and you couldn’t help but smile faintly back. “A-ha! There it is. Knew I could get you to smile. Seriously, though, you’ve accomplished a lot, so you really shouldn’t talk bad about my friend like that.”

“Your… friend?” you echoed in disbelief.

“Well, yeah,” Kirishima said as he looked down at you, and his red eyes were serious and sincere. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but… I consider you a friend. Hell, you’ve already made dinner for me more times than Denki, so you might be a better friend than he is.”

The hardening hero grinned to show he was joking, but all you could do was blink up at him in shock. He… thought of you as a friend? You’d considered yourself an acquaintance at best, but more likely a burden and obligation. But you knew Kirishima wouldn’t just outright lie to you. He was too… good for that, too honest and straightforward.

So… maybe everyone hadn’t just been pretending tonight. Maybe they didn’t pity you. Maybe they actually… liked you.

The thought had hope and happiness rising in your chest like birds taking flight, but then the image of Bakugo marching away from you flashed through your mind, and the birds were shot out of the sky.

Well, obviously not everyone liked you.

“Uh, Stitches?” Kirishima’s voice drew you from your thoughts, and you shook your head before looking up at him.

“Sorry,” you said, manipulating your stiff lips into a small smile. “I was just… surprised you think of me that way.”

“You don’t think of us as friends?” He frowned, and there was a note of hurt in his voice.

“N-No, I just… I didn’t want to presume anything,” you muttered and averted your gaze to watch a car drive by. It was easier to gather your thoughts when you weren’t looking at the imposing redhead, so you took a deep breath before you continued. “I’ve really enjoyed my time at the agency so far. The sidekicks always ask me about my day when I go downstairs, and sometimes we talk about the latest TV shows while standing around the coffee machine in the breakroom. I’ve liked learning and buying their favorite snacks, and the few times you and I ate dinner were fun. It’s been… nice. Really nice. I’ve never really had a lot of friends. I was always the weird Asian girl who had an accent until the second grade, and even when I lost it, I was still one of a few ‘ethnic’ people in a mostly white area. And when I moved here, even though I speak the language, sometimes people can tell I’m American and just… treat me differently.”

“That sucks,” Kirishima muttered as his frown deepened in your peripherals. “I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is.” You shrugged and tried to seem unbothered even though your ‘otherness’ had eaten away at you all your life. “But what I’m trying to say is, it’s not that I didn’t want to think of you all as friends. It’s just… you’re all really important heroes, and I know that the only reason I even came to the agency was because you had to pay for the repairs on my shop. So I just thought…”

“That we were only being nice because we had to?” Kirishima finished.

“Well… yeah,” you murmured and blushed, because now that you said it out loud, it sounded like you thought the redhead and the rest of the sidekicks were all shallow and two-faced, which wasn’t fair to them.

“And do you still think that?” he asked, but there wasn’t any judgement in his voice. It was an honest question.

You glanced at the hardening hero out of the corner of your eye, and you found him staring down at you patiently. You recalled how excited he had been to invite you tonight, to introduce you to his friends, how he had searched for you when he thought you were missing. None of that felt like obligation to you, and you realized that your own insecurities made you form some unfair assumptions about him and the other heroes that you’d encountered in the last week.

“No,” you finally said, and it didn’t taste like a lie. “No, I don’t.”

“Good.” Kirishima grinned down at you. “Because the last time I invited someone to hang out with my friends out of obligation, I was like… five, and my mom said I had to invite my whole class to my birthday party, even the mean kid who liked to push everyone down at recess. And you’re definitely much more fun to hang out with than that butthead Shin Okamura.”

You giggled at that, and the sound made Kirishima’s grin widen.

“Alright, fine,” you huffed and rolled your eyes, but your smile only grew. “I’ll… stop being so self-deprecating.”

“Good,” Kirishima repeated as he continued leading you to his agency, but when he looked down at you again, he was suddenly serious. “Just remember. You don’t have to be a hero to make a difference in the world.”

You’d heard the same platitudes from your parents, from your college professors, and you sighed.

“I know—”

“You could be a back alley healer, for example.”

You gasped and stumbled again, glancing around for anyone who might have overheard, but the street was empty and quiet save the two of you. Still, your heart was tap dancing off rhythm beneath your sternum, and you squeezed Kirishima’s arm from where you still had your hand tucked into his elbow.

“Ow! Okay, sorry, sorry!” Kirishima burst out laughing and pretended to cower away from you, but the effect was ruined by the grin breaking his face in half.

And you couldn’t quite hide your own smile, either.

The pair of you dissolved into silence for a minute as you continued walking down the street, and when you turned the next corner, you could see the agency looming up into the night sky at the end of the block.

“Hey, Stitches, can I ask you something, friend to friend?” Kirishima finally broke the silence, and something about his phrasing immediately set you on edge, your good mood evaporating like smoke.

“Uhh, sure,” you said and hoped you wouldn’t regret it.

“Did something happen between you and Bakugo? Back at the bar?” His red eyes cut to yours, so similar to another pair of red eyes that you were trying not to think about, and your mouth immediately went dry. Your mind flailed for a response, but the redhead barreled on. “It’s just… I noticed you came back wearing his jacket after you disappeared, and you seemed a little upset?”

“I did?” The words fell from your mouth unbidden, and you winced. You had thought you got your mask up in time.

“I mean, you were smiling and stuff, but your eyes looked kind of sad,” Kirishima said, frowning down at you. “I just wanted to make sure Bakubro didn’t upset you somehow.”

“N-No, no,” you blurted out, even though your heart was screaming yes. “He… I ran into him coming back from the bathroom. He was outside on the patio. I went to join him— t-to ask if he was coming back to the table— but some guys who were out there smoking started giving me a hard time. But Bakugo chased them off and gave me his jacket since I was cold. H-He said he didn’t want me getting sick and giving the agency a bad rep or something.”

You hoped the reasoning you gave for Bakugo handing over his jacket made sense. It was the only logical explanation you could come up with.

“Oh.” Kirishima blinked and seemed to process your words for a moment. “Well, I’m sorry some assholes were bothering you. You should have said something.”

“It really wasn’t a big deal,” you said dismissively, trying to forget the way your heart had jumped into your throat when those three men surrounded you. “And Bakugo handled it.”

“I’m sure he did,” the redhead muttered, and when you looked up at him, he was smirking.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Ahhh, nothing.” Kirishima cleared his throat. “Oh, look! We’re here.”

The agency suddenly loomed above you, and Kirishima stopped just in front of the doors. You could see a few sidekicks through the glass doors, the poor bastards who’d pulled the short straw and gotten the night shift on a Saturday, but they were mainly just yawning at their desks or walking back and forth to the coffee machine in the break room.

“Do you want me to walk you up?” Kirishima asked as he moved to open the door.

“No,” you refused, stopping him. “It’s late, and you’re off the clock ‘till Monday. Go home, Red Riot. I can make it up the elevator on my own.”

“Alright, alright.” The hardening hero smiled and held up his hands. “I’ll get going. But… thanks for coming out tonight.”

“I think I’m the one who should be thanking you,” you chuckled, but then a gust of wind wafted the scent of burnt sugar into your nose, and your smiled faded as you cleared your throat and slowly shrugged off the jacket draped over your shoulders. “Actually, could you, um, extend my gratitude to Bakugo as well and give this back to him when you see him next?”

You extended the jacket out to the redhead, but Kirishima just stared at it for a second before shaking his head.

“You’ll probably see him before I do, so keep it for now,” he said. “Bakugo has a shift tomorrow evening, so you can just come downstairs and return it to him then. Or I’m sure he’d be fine with you leaving it in his office.”

The thought of even seeing the blond right now made your stomach flip and your body break out in a cold sweat, but you covered it up with a smile as you clutched the jacket to your chest.

“Oh, okay,” you said, praying your voice wasn’t as shaky as you thought it was. “I’ll just… do that then.”

“Cool.” Kirishima shot you a smile. “Well, I better get going. I can feel the whisky making my eyelids heavy.”

“Do you need to order a car or something?” you asked with a concerned frown.

“Nah, I only live a couple blocks away, I’ll be fine,” he said as he waved you off, and then he jerked his chin at the agency doors. “You should get inside first, though, or I’ll worry that you got snatched the moment I turned my back.”

“I definitely don’t want to get snatched,” you laughed and reached for the door. “Have a good night, Kirishima. Get home safe.”

“Will do.” He grinned, flashing his pointed teeth. “Night, Stitches.”

“Night.” You smiled over your shoulder as you opened the door, and true to his word, the hardening hero waited until you were safe inside the agency lobby before he put two fingers to his forehead in a salute, turned, and walked out of sight.

The moment he was gone, you felt the smile slowly slide off your face. It was hard to be upset in the redhead’s presence, he just exuded so much warmth and happiness, but now that you were alone, clutching Bakugo’s jacket to your chest, all of the thoughts you’d been suppressing came bubbling back up to the surface.

You tried to keep your face composed as your turned and made your way to the elevator. The few dozing sidekicks in the bullpen greeted you halfheartedly, and you waved weakly in return. Then your eyes trailed past them to the darkened, glass walled office that you knew belonged to Bakugo. You considered dropping off the jacket on his desk or chair like Kirishima suggested, just to get it away from you, but then you thought of the sidekicks watching you walk to the office, wondering what you were doing, speculating as to why you had their boss’ jacket, and you abandoned the idea as you jammed your finger into the elevator button.

It was only after the elevator doors closed behind you, only when you were standing alone staring at your fuzzy reflection, that you let the tears come. They quickly blurred your vision, burned in the back of your throat, but you managed to hit the button for your floor and stumbled into your room before you truly started crying. You didn’t know if there were any sidekicks sleeping on this floor, so you forced yourself to be quiet, pressing your lips together and only gasping when you needed air.

You immediately threw the jacket over the back of your desk chair, desperate to get away from the caramelized scent, but you realized it still clung to your dress, your hair. So, with tears streaming down your face, you stripped down to your panties, dropping everything onto the floor, tearing your jewelry off and tossing it onto your desk. You only had enough energy to pull on a hoodie before you collapsed into the bed, and you shivered, still crying, as you tugged the covers up over your head.

Fuck, how could you have been so stupid? You’d done a lot of stupid things in your life, but kissing Dynamight took the cake. The blond had only brought you to the agency for two reasons: insurance purposes and your quirk. He needed a healer, someone to fix his ears so he could keep fighting the good fight. And you were convenient. You needed to stay at the agency anyway while your shop was repaired, so you were supposed to use your quirk in the interim to help him with his problem.

Except now, you were pretty sure you ruined that. Because Bakugo didn’t want you like you wanted him. He made that pretty obvious. So he probably wouldn’t want your help anymore, because who wanted to receive medical care from someone lusting after them inappropriately?

And what if he kicked you out of the agency entirely? You didn’t necessarily have to stay here, the agency just had to pay for your lodgings until your apartment was fixed, so Bakugo could just send you to a hotel first thing in the morning, get you out of his hair for the last week or two.

You knew you couldn’t stay at the agency forever, but you had been telling Kirishima the truth earlier. You liked it here. You liked seeing the sidekicks on a regular basis, liked it when Kirishima poked his head into the kitchen to see what you were cooking. You didn’t want to leave just yet.

So… you would just have to apologize.

Bakugo had a shift tomorrow night, which meant you had over twelve hours to figure out what you were going to say. Then you’d go downstairs, find the blond, return his jacket, and bow your head to the floor to apologize for being so forward and inappropriate and… pitiful.

Hopefully, he would accept it.

You fell asleep sniffling, with your eyes swollen from tears. And because the universe was cruel, you dreamed of ash-blood hair and crimson eyes. Of warm hands around your waist and even warmer lips against your own. In one part of the dream, you were back on that patio, Bakugo looming over you, wrapped around you. His kiss burned like fire, like an iron brand pulled straight from the flames, and you felt the heat consume you. In this dream, neither of you needed to part for air, and Mina didn’t come outside. You both were just suspended in time— lips and tongues and hands— and Bakugo devoured you one biting kiss at a time.

You awoke with your mouth tingling, with the smell of burning sugar in your nose, before reality came crashing back down and pinned you to the bed. The weight on your chest kept you submerged beneath the blankets most of the day, only slightly letting up in the afternoon when your bladder was on the verge of bursting. You dragged yourself to your feet and to the bathroom down the hall, but after relieving yourself, you just shuffled right back to bed. When you checked your phone, you saw it was almost four o’clock, and your stomach rumbled, begging for more than the finger foods you’d had at the bar last night. But you still hadn’t gone grocery shopping, so if you wanted anything more than snacks, you would have to go out, and the thought of potentially running into Bakugo downstairs turned your blood to ice.

You knew you still needed to apologize, but you just… couldn’t bring yourself to do it, so instead you burrowed back under the blankets and turned to face the wall.

You would allow yourself one day to wallow. Then, tomorrow, Monday, you’d shove all your feelings back into a box where they belonged, do the adult thing, and apologize.

Unfortunately, as you should have already learned, things don’t always go to plan.

True to your word, you did get up at dawn the next morning, showered, ate, dressed like a functional human being. You even ran errands, stopping by the shop to see how construction was coming along, picking up some small projects from your clients, doing the grocery run you’d been putting off for so long.

When you returned to the agency around midday, you stopped by the first floor breakroom to fill the fridge with snacks, and the sidekicks immediately flocked to the goodies. Even Kirishima stuck his head into the room to say hi, dressed in his full Red Riot gear. He said he was about to go out on patrol, and the two of you made quick, casual conversation before movement beyond the redhead caught your attention.

Bakugo had stopped a few feet beyond the threshold of the breakroom, also decked out in all his hero gear. You only had a moment to take in the full, imposing figure he cut in his suit before your eyes found his, and the moment they did, the blond’s face hardened into stone. You saw the muscle in his jaw tick as he ground his teeth, but then he spun away and stomped off, even when Kirishima called out after him.

The redhead had rolled his eyes and said the blond was in a mood day, but you knew it was more than that.

He was avoiding you, didn’t want to even see you. And he continued to avoid you for the rest of that day and the following. Whenever you stepped off the elevator, if he was in eyesight, he immediately disappeared, stalking off to the locker or training rooms or darkening the glass walls surrounding his office. He obviously didn’t want to talk to you, and every time he met your eyes and instantly retreated in the opposite direction, your heart squeezed in your chest.

But he hadn’t kicked you out of the agency, so that was something at least.

Mina also helped keep you from spiraling. The pink-haired hero texted you multiple times a day, sometimes just sending a funny picture or meme, other times telling you about a crazy thing that happened on her patrol. She had in fact also added you to a group chat with Kirishima, Sero, and Denki, so you received some messages from them every now and again. Bakugo was technically in the group chat, too— or at least you thought he was, since there was another number listed in the chat, but the number never replied to anything, so you couldn’t be sure. Still, it was nice to get messages from people other than your parents and your elderly customers who struggled with technology. It helped balance out the weight that had grown heavier in your chest with each passing hour.

By Tuesday night, you came to the realization that Bakugo would probably continue ignoring you until you left the agency. You tried to convince yourself that you were fine with this. Soon, your shop would be fixed, and everything would go back to normal. You’d go back to being a seamstress with a slightly illegal side hustle, and it would be like you never met the blond. It wasn’t like you’d been particularly close, anyway. Sure, you were attracted to him physically, but who wouldn’t be? And okay, you admired his tenacity as a pro hero, his bravery and relentlessness in the face of adversity and danger, but so did a lot of other people. It was just… a celebrity crush. You would get over it.

You had to.

“Shit,” you cursed for the umpteenth time in the last half hour, frowning down at the bead of blood crowning your fingertip.

Your quirk washed away the minute pain almost immediately, but you just sighed and set down your needle and thread. You’d been trying to mend a hole in Mr. Fujita’s slacks, but you were too distracted, and if you continued like this, you were going to return the pants with blood stains.

You stretched your back and decided to get up from the little desk you’d been hunched over for the past few hours. Picking your phone up, you realized it was almost eight pm, and your stomach snarled as if to reprimand you. A quick dinner would probably be best, maybe some of the instant ramen you picked up at the store yesterday.

You glanced at the door and then sighed when you realized you would actually have to walk down the hall to make the dinner yourself. The kitchen seemed so far away when you thought about it, so you decided to take a ten minute break on your bed. The hunger would probably be enough to motivate you by then.

Collapsing onto the bed, you picked a social media app at random and then just started scrolling. It kept your interest for a minute or two, but then— because of some of your recent searches— a video of a deaf baby getting a cochlear implant popped up on your feed, and your eyes immediately trailed to the shadow of Bakugo’s jacket hanging from a hook on the inside of your door. From this angle, you could see the sheaf of papers you’d rolled up and stuffed into the inside pocket, and you once again considered just walking downstairs and leaving the jacket in his office. The interns might gossip, but you would probably be gone in a week. You could survive the whispers and looks for that long.

You stared at the jacket for a long moment before you sighed and flicked your eyes back to your phone.

“Coward,” you muttered to yourself and angrily started scrolling again.

You weren’t even paying attention to the posts and videos you scrolled past, but you sure as hell noticed when a loud boom suddenly rattled your windows right before the building trembled slightly around you.

You inhaled sharply as your eyes snapped to the darkened window beside your bed. Your heartrate increased, skipping beats, because that sounded familiar, felt familiar. You slowly went to put your phone down on the bed, but your finger twitched across the screen, swiping to the next video, which happened to be a live news feed.

“— here downtown! Three villains have robbed a nearby bank, and they seem to be giving Dynamight some trouble!”

“Dynamight?” you gasped as you scrambled to pick up your phone.

The camera footage was shaky and cloudy, like there was smoke or dust in the air, and it seemed like the news team was peeking out around the corner of a building. You couldn’t see much through the haze, but then an explosion of light crossed the screen, followed by a boom that you heard through the phone’s speakers and through the glass of your window.

“No,” you breathed as your wide eyes drifted toward the window. Then you propelled yourself to your feet and stood on your tiptoes to look outside. Your room was on one of the higher floors of the agency, and the agency itself was one of the tallest buildings on the block, so you could see at least a block or two from your vantage point.

You craned your neck, holding your breath as you waited for the next explosion, which came a moment later. It was accompanied by another flash of light in your peripherals, and you could just barely see a cloud of dust in the very corner of the window. It seemed like the battle was happening a couple blocks to the right of the agency, and you frantically turned back to the phone in your hand as the newscaster started talking again.

“From what we’re witnessing, one villain seems to have an offensive electric quirk, another turns anything they touch into a sticky sludge, and the third is able to produce bubbles that seem to capture and incapacitate. Dynamight is battling them singlehandedly, after several other heroes— possibly sidekicks from his agency— were trapped by the bubble villain’s quirk.”

The camera quickly panned over a destroyed road that looked like your street had just a week ago. Rubble and pockets of black goo covered the broken pavement, and through the haze of dust or smoke, you could just make out several dome-like shapes with human figures inside them, like a perverse kind of toy from one of those coin machines. The trapped heroes were hammering at the walls surrounding them, but whatever the bubble was made of must have been strong, because the heroes were making no headway.

You snapped your gaze from the phone, to the window, and back again, praying to catch a glimpse of Dynamight’s bright orange suit, but the cameraman was ducking for cover again as another explosion rocked the street, and your heart climbed into your throat.

“Come on, come on,” you muttered as you clutched your phone in sweaty palms. You knew Bakugo was strong, he wouldn’t be Number Two otherwise, but you knew every explosion diminished his hearing, and the booms were starting to become rapid fire.

“Oh my— what is that?” the newscaster suddenly gasped, and a hand cut across the camera, pointing at something off screen. “Is that… is that a child?!”

The footage zoomed in too quickly and took a moment to focus, but then the cloudy outline of a child materialized into being. By size, you would guess he was around six years old, and you could just barely hear him crying over the newscaster’s heavy breathing and the staccato explosions. Then a more high-pitched screaming started, and the camera panned to a mother running out of a nearby alley, trying to reach her baby in the chaos.

What happened next seemed to occur in slow motion.

The camera zoomed out to take in more of the street, and a villain careened onto the screen. He seemed to have been thrown, or maybe he leapt, but he landed on his feet a few yards away from the wailing child, just as the screaming mother threw her arms around him. The villain’s upper lip seemed to curl up in disgust, and then he aimed one of his palms at the mother and son.

A bubble shot out of his hand like a bullet, expanding as it went, but just before it swallowed the wailing duo, an explosion of light and orange color shoved them out of the way.

“No!” you gasped, but it was too late, and you watched helplessly as Bakugo was swallowed by the bubble.

The blond rolled in his round cage until he slammed up against an overturned car, and you saw him shake his head as he climbed back onto his feet. He smacked one of his palms against the bubble, but the wall barely even rippled. Bakugo tried again, his hand glowing slightly orange, but still nothing happened.

“Oh god, Dynamight’s been captured!” the reporter cried out.

Meanwhile, the mother and son were still cowering in the middle of the street, frozen in fear and maybe pain, and the bubble villain was standing over them, smirking in triumph.

He raised his palm again, but your eyes were glued to Bakugo, because he was now standing in the middle of his bubble prison, with both of his own hands extended out in front of him. His mouth was twisted into a snarl, and his palms were wreathed in an orange glow that quickly turned white-hot, right before he reached for the pin on one of his gauntlets.

You suddenly realized what he was going to do.

“Bakugo, no!” you shouted like he could hear you, but it was futile.

The bubble he was trapped in suddenly lit up like the Fourth of July, becoming almost too bright to look at, before it exploded so loudly that the sound from the camera completely cut out.

The footage was nothing but dust and frantic movement for almost thirty seconds, but when it finally cleared, the street was empty. The camera jumped around then, trying to find the villains, Bakugo, but it suddenly settled on the mother and son again.

They were safe and somehow unharmed, half a block down from where they were just a moment ago. Confusion overtook your terror for a moment, but then you saw a flash of red, just before the camera focused on Kirishima, who was standing protectively in front of the mother and son.

Suddenly, the audio returned on the video.

“—Riot! I repeat, Red Riot is now on scene, accompanied by two sidekicks!”

Kirishima looked nothing like the smiling teddy bear that walked around the agency. His face was set in an intimidating scowl, and his massive body seemed even bigger as he glared at the villains off screen. His silhouette was jagged, his muscles— that you knew were harder than steel— sticking out at sharp angles. His bare chest was streaked with dust, but he seemed unharmed, and you felt a brief flash of relief.

But it quickly turned to dread the longer Bakugo was off screen.

Where was he? Had he hurt himself in the explosion?

Before the bile could eat through the base of your throat, a body suddenly flew past the camera, and the cameraman followed it as quickly as he could. The footage settled just as the bubble villain skidded to a stop on the broken asphalt, and then the camera jumped to Bakugo, who was standing in the middle of the road with his teeth bared.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The blond was alive. He was alive.

“Dynamight seems to be back in action!” the reporter announced. “With Red Riot now on scene, the legendary duo should make quick work of these villains.”

You wanted to believe the reporter, but as the camera zoomed in on Bakugo, you saw the blood dripping from his ears, saw the way he swayed on his feet. Using his quirk to blast out of the bubble had most likely obliterated his eardrums, and you knew that disrupting the fluid in the inner ear resulted in balance problems. The explosive hero was probably fighting terrible vertigo just to stay on his feet.

Would he be able to stay upright long enough to subdue the villains?

You stared at the phone in your hand for one second, two, before you were spinning on your heel. You were in a casual pair of sweats, and you shoved your sockless feet into your sneakers as you grabbed Bakugo’s jacket off the hook, wrenched open your door, and sprinted down the hallway to the stairs.

You just hoped you could get there in time.

#bakugo #bakugou #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo/reader #bakugo/you #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bakugou/reader #bakugou/you #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo/reader #katsuki bakugo/you #bakugo katsuki/you #bakugo katsuki/reader #bakugo katsuki x you #bakugo katuski x reader #pro hero dynamight #mha #my hero academia #bnha #fanfic

[purplehelleborewrites]

Bite Back

The Price of Flesh fanfic, JackxTrans masc main character.

Warnings/notes: Graphic sexual content, violence, non-con, threats of non-con, mild transphobia, "drugged" non-con, threads of genital mutilation.

Minors DNI. Please read and abide the warnings, I'm not fucking around with them.

Fuck you, Derek.

I slid down loose sand to the shaded fissure below, keeping my balance with my hand against the rocks. The canteen around my neck--my prize for sucking his worthless dick--bounced against my chest, and I eagerly unscrewed the cap.

My first sip was to rinse the iron-bitter taste of blood and cum out of my mouth, spit at my feet. The rest disappeared down my throat before I could stop myself, gasping for air as the last drop slid across my slashed tongue. Mind calmed by the lukewarm water, I took time to search around.

Kicking a dead lizard aside, I climbed down deeper, blue catching my eye. Water.

I scrambled to my knees beside it, plunging the canteen into the water. As it filled, I froze in place. Something about it smelled…off. Chemical. Dangerous. I replaced the canteen around my neck--at least it was wet and cool against my chest--and stood.

The sky was darkening already, dotted with more stars than I’d ever seen in my life as a city boy. Beautiful, but the chill of night in the desert was starting to sink into my bones. Taking a deep breath, I climbed back up the fissure and into the open desert.

Lights in the distance pointed me toward the camp. I moved slowly, silently, towards it. Maybe it would have tools. Water. Food. That was, if it was empty and not full of assholes waiting to kill me.

It was empty. I rifled through their little stockpile, and my stomach sank. Only empty canteens. I took the one from around my neck and carefully stashed it between the others. Maybe someone would drink it. Hope you shit yourself inside out and die.

I moved back through the open desert at a slow run--too dangerous, too open--and climbed up the hill. A quick search found a pair of rocks I could sleep between, curled up like an animal but protected from the cold breeze that had picked up. Pillowing my head on my arms, I closed my eyes.

There was no way I would sleep. I could hear every shift of sand, every pebble tumbling away from where my body curled up tighter. This couldn’t be safe. Derek would find me again. Or that asshole in the dog mask. They would do to me what they did to that poor blonde girl. My body was quickly going numb with fear, but exhaustion ripping my consciousness away.

The next thing I knew, sunlight burned through my closed eyes. I groaned, wishing I had more water, and climbed down the hill. No Derek in the open desert, no sound of the four-wheeler, but I made quick work crossing it anyway.

As I made my way back down the fissure again, I heard screaming. A feminine voice. I got down low and crept closer.

Jack had the woman with the nosering on the ground in front of him, and kicked her in the stomach. “You’re fiery. I like that,” he chuckled and tipped his mask up to drink from the canteen that hung at his belt.

I don’t know what the fuck possessed me, but I grabbed the nearest rock and threw it. It bounced against his back and clattered to the ground. “Hey!” I shouted, my dry voice cracking.

He turned instantly, eyes narrowing. “Oh, you wanna play hero, cunt boy?” he taunted. He left her on the ground and stalked towards me.

I retreated until my back hit stone, and curled my hands into fists.

Jack barked a laugh. “You think you’re a match for me, tough guy?” He grabbed me by the collar when I swung in at him, slinging me back into the wall. “Come on, then.”

Hands shaking, I lunged at him again.

He dodged me easily and knocked me to the ground with an elbow to my back.

I tried to roll over and get back up, but he kicked me first, the air whooshing out of my lungs. Groaning, I curled up to protect my stomach.

“Fine. One cunt or another…” he grabbed the back of my shorts and underwear, pulling them down at once while I kicked at him. He stopped when they got to mid-thigh and was so still that I finally looked back over my shoulder at him.

He swayed unsteadily on his feet, and stumbled towards me before crashing down on top of my legs so suddenly that I yelped, scrambling back from him.

The woman approached and looked at me, then at him, then at me again. “Did you do that?”

“I left a canteen at the camp. I think it’s poisoned water but…” I looked at Jack. His chest was still rising and falling. “He’s alive. Um. Also, I’m Ian,” I said as I got to my feet and pulled my shorts back up.

She nodded. “Jacqueline. We need to get out of here in case he wakes up.”

“I think he’s awake, but I get what you mean. There’s a hill not far from here if you cross the flat open part by the camp. Just stay towards the crooked rocks.” I stared down at Jack, the cold reality of what he was about to do to me making my stomach lurch.

“Thanks.” She turned to leave, then paused when she saw I wasn’t following. “Are you coming?”

Rage bubbled in my chest. The longer I stared at Jack’s prone body, the more I wanted to take a rock and bash his brains out. “Soon,” I said, the word sharp-edged.

Jacquline nodded slowly, and jogged off.

I kicked Jack in the face, hard enough that his mask flew off. The face underneath was handsome, even with blood flowing out of the corner of his mouth. If we’d met any other way, any other place, I’d find him hot, but like this…

“Can you hear me, motherfucker?” I snarled at him, looking around. I didn’t see a rock big enough to do what I wanted, so I kicked him again, this time in the stomach. His eyes widened, and I kicked him again, and again, but he didn’t scream, or move except with the force of my foot.

Panting, I dropped down beside him on my knees, and grabbed his belt, ripping his pants open. I wasn’t thinking--I just grabbed his dick. I wanted to rip the fucking thing off. Shove it down his throat until he choked to death. I yanked and I heard him intake a hard breath, dick twitching in my hand.

I stopped. And stared. He could feel this. I laughed, and felt something in me crack. All of this pain, being hunted, being terrified, and he was. Completely. Helpless. I could do anything I wanted to him.

“Hope you like friction burns, asshole,” I growled as I stroked him, fast, dry, and rough. He quickly grew hard in my hand, and I stopped when I felt him starting to drip precum. What the fuck am I doing? The logical part of my mind screamed, but I shoved it down.

“One cunt or another, right?” I got up and pulled my shorts down with shaking hands. Kicking them aside, I straddled him, aiming downward and spitting on his dick. He stared up at me, eyes fixed between my legs. “This is for me, not you,” I said, and guided him inside of me as I slammed my hips down on him.

I didn’t need the spit. A shocking amount of wetness gushed from me as our bodies met, driving a moan from my throat. I slammed my hands against the ground for leverage, gritting my teeth as I rode him.

“How does it feel being the one being violated?” I demanded through pants, grinding my testosterone-fat clit againt his body, shuddering at the feeling.

Jack said nothing, but his chest rose and fell quickly, eyes focused on my face.

I leaned into him harder and sped up. I didn’t expect to enjoy this--I just wanted to hurt him--but every time his cock buried to the hilt, I groaned. The sweet sting of pain of him stretching me open, the burn of the sand under my knees, just added to the pleasure.

God, I didn’t want this son of a bitch to make me come, but the sick rush of power combined with the swell of my clit against his body, made my legs muscles tighten and shake. I’m so fucked up, I’m so fucked up.

I bit my lip to keep from screaming as I came, frantically riding out my orgasm until I sagged, exhausted.

Jack twitched hard, and even in my stunned haze of pleasure, I scrambled off of him so he wouldn’t come inside of me. I was just in time to see him come, white shooting all over his shirt, his jacket, his jeans. The mess made me smile.

I stood and dressed with trembling, fumbling hands. I’ll go find a rock, end this all--

His hand moved towards me.

All of my rage drained away and I ran, scrambling up the side of the fissure, blindly sprinting into the open desert. My heart was going to explode in my chest. He might find me. He might catch me, but a small part of me was at peace with that.

No matter what he did to me, I’d bite back again.

#tpof jack #the price of flesh #TPOF fanfic #TPOF Jack/Main Character #gatobob

[primewritessmut]

24 - REIGN

“You’re late.” I ignore my boss as I squeeze around him and into the break room, yanking open a locker to shove my jacket and backpack inside. “The bar is slammed and you’re fucking late.”

I could tell him that I had the strangest dream last night. That I woke up with the electric copper taste of pennies on my tongue. That I had to dig to the back of my closet for a long sleeve shirt that fit dress code and glove to match.

I could tell him that I don’t remember why I need to dress that way or how I got here, that something feels off, wrong, but things always feel off. Like I’m a little more left of center than the rest of the world, spread thin and slid between the cracks of space and time.

But that sounds maudlin and off-putting.

And also, I know he doesn’t give a shit.

He just wants me to do my terrible, minimum wage job so the nepo babies in their thirty thousand dollar watches don’t have to suffer through a lukewarm drink.

I slink past him toward where the five-gallon bucket is tucked into the corner next to the ice machine. It clatters as I approach it, fresh ice dropping into the bottom compartment. The promise of tediousness and monotony pulls at me. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to remember my dream. I don’t want to taste the rich, bright flavor on my tongue.

“Don’t fucking ignore me,” he barks, his big hand clamping onto my upper arm like a vice and yanking me back from the handle of the bucket. “Just because we gave some freak a pity job doesn’t mean you don’t have to work like the rest of us.”

His thick sausage fingers dig painfully into the meat of my bicep and I just wish he would stop fucking touching me.

Every humming fluorescent light in the break room pops at once, plunging the space into pitch black nothingness.

I blink in the sudden darkness and realize that I can see.

He’s pinned against the wall, toes scraping the floor and eyes bulging at the pressure the thing around his neck. Long fingers. Mottled black skin fitted tight to bone. Talons like a bird of prey dimpling the skin of his neck.

I blink and he whimpers.

The shadows rise, coiling and curling around us, wrapping up my arms and prying at his mouth, his nose, his eyes. Trying to find a place to grab hold. Enough leverage to pull him apart.

I blink and lean forward.

He flinches but he can’t pull himself far enough away to avoid the words that hiss into his ear for every corner of the room.

“Look at you.” The words are somehow sibilant even without a single S. “A tiny little man, reigning over a useless little kingdom, just to feel something. I can make you feel something.”

I blink and his mouth opens wide.

Then wider and wider, the shadows hooking eager tendrils over his bottom teeth and pulling down, down, down until the edges of his mouth start to tear, turning his trembling, begging lips into something huge and leering.

I blink and a scream gurgles in the back of his throat.

The talons piercing the dimpling flesh as his tongue lolls out of his mouth at an angle, unused to all the extra space, his thick, sausage fingers scrabbling at the desiccated flesh of the arm attached to those claws.

I blink and bolt upright in bed.

My mouth is still filled with a coating of metal and salt, sticking to my teeth and my tongue and my memory. I flop back onto my too-flat pillow and scrub my hands down my face ignoring the way that one of them scrapes roughly across my jaw.

I haven’t called my psychiatrist for an emergency session in four years but I roll to my side and start patting the bedside table for my phone anyway.

23 - WARD || 25 - VESSEL

#spooktober 2023 #31doh2023 #day 24 #original story #the monster under the bed