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martiansodas-blog · 3 days

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too pretty to think.

when art started to slip, it almost felt like falling asleep…

a. donaldson x reader

word count: 2,216

contents: dumbification, body worship, face sitting, multiple orgasms, cuming untouched, brief mommy kink, subspace, nicknames and pet names, this is freak nasty.

The first time

You and Art have been going steady for 6 months and you loved every second of it. the two of you mostly hung out at your place, it's a tad cleaner than his dorm and he never bothered with things like decorations. It was a haven for the both of you. So when your Blackberry buzzed with a message asking,

“r u home?”

It was hardly out of the ordinary.

“yeah. just changed clothes”

“can i come over?”

“of course”

Donaldson is a man who never knows when to quit. Let's rephrase: He’ll only quit when instructed to.

He treats his body like a machine. He eats what his nutritionist tells him to, he pushes his body to the limit, and he rarely turns in a paper late.

When you opened your front door your boyfriend was in chaotic ruins. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were stained. He stared at the floor with his calloused hands in his pockets.

“Oh my gosh, what happened?? What’s wrong?”

Your tone had urgency as you ushered him inside. Once the door is closed he pulls you in for a hug. You don’t dare speak, just hug back. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.

It’s obvious he’s trying to hold himself together, but stroking his back caused him to break.

“Aw, baby,”

You sway him from side to side.

“Shh, it’s ok. I’m here.”

After a few minutes, Art regained control of his breathing. You put him at arm's length—your voice just above a whisper.

“Would you like to come lay down with me? We don’t have to talk about it if you don't want to, let's just get you comfortable.”

Art sniffles and nods his head—your poor baby.

You held his hand and led the way to your room. You sat on your bed with your back against the wall so he could lay between your legs. He often takes this position when you guys are watching movies so it will add a level of comfort for him.

Art takes some deep breaths as you run your nails through his hair.

“We got a new coach and he- he’s so intense. I don’t know. I’ve been berated by coaches since I was 13. Why the hell is this one affecting me differently?”

You twist one of his curls in your fingers.

“Everything's just so much right now. Schoolwork, post-graduation plans, sponsorships… There's so much going on all the time. I- I can’t do it.”

Your heart broke for him.

“I’m so sorry, Artie. I wish I could take it all away from you.”

You rubbed his arms and back for who knows how long. It could have been hours. You didn’t care. You’d cancel your week's agenda if that’s what he needed. You weren’t getting up until he felt better.

You analyzed his words.

“It’s not that you’re unable to make decisions, and it’s not that you make bad decisions. It’s just that decisions are constant unrelenting work… is that an accurate assessment?”

He nodded and sighed into your shirt like you were the one person in the world who understood him.

“...And a good boy like you should never have to work.”

Art froze.

Well, that’s new.

You decided to test the waters further and put on your most sultry voice.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll think for you.”

He let out a sound that can only be described as a mewl. His body curled into a semi-circle.

You swept some hair out of his eyes, they seemed to get droopier.

I don't know what exactly is transpiring he’s responding to it.

“Let your thoughts go. You don’t need them.”

Eyes are fully closed now.

“Can you unclench your jaw for me? That’s it.”

He does as he's told, falling deeper into whatever hollow you're creating. He bites back a smile but his blush is evident. So easy to get him to blush. One of his cutest attributes.

Next step is Moving your handsome boy to lay on his stomach so you can rub his shoulders. You hear him sigh while the tension is worked out of his muscles and watch him relax under your hands.

Walking him through some deep breaths while you place dozens of soft, light kisses on his neck.

You want to make him understand what a privilege it is to have him.

Rubbing his thighs and calves, slowly melting away the stress of the day. Kisses on the backs of his knees while he laughs and tells you to stop that and that it tickles.

Helping him turn over to lie on his back and climbing carefully on top to straddle him.

You toy with the hem of his shirt.

“Can I take this off?”

He looks up at you. mouth open and nods.

It causes you to giggle.

“Thank you.”

Once that’s out of the way your hands wander up to his chest while trailing more impossibly light kisses down his Adam's apple. Massaging his chest, squeezing and grabbing and just feeling his skin.

Kissing his collarbones, trailing your tongue along the dip where they meet under his neck. Slowly working that boy up with teasing touches that only get more and more unbearable.

Slowly returning to his lips to kiss him again while you reach down to trail your fingertips over his cock. He pants and whines so sweetly into your mouth while you play with his cock. You're not even trying to make him cum-- not yet.

I could do this all day.

Letting him drift in a fuzzy-headed space while you work your fingers soft and slow over his pants. Doesn't need to worry about anything but your hands on his body. You're right here to keep him safe and make him feel good.

“There's nothing I love more than watching my brilliant, polite, well-spoken boyfriend turn mindless.”

Art whined and bucked his hips up to meet your hand.

“I need to be in you so bad. Please.”

Who are you to refuse him?

“Don't worry baby, I’ll give you what you want.”

You slid off him and he reached for you, like he couldn’t stand you being an inch away for any amount of time. You chuckled and took off your bottoms and underwear, he copied.

You hopped back on top of him, which made him break out into a smile. His girl was about to take care of him.

You grabbed his cock and started stroking him.

“I don’t know if I’m wet enough, Artie.”

“Sitonmyface.” He begged all in one breath.

You bit your lip so as not to laugh at him. It wasn’t in a mean way, no no! He was just so excited about it. It’s adorable and flattering all at the same time.

“Are you sure? We’ve never done that before.”

We haven’t done a lot of this before.

He shamelessly nodded. Grabbing your waist with both hands and shifting your body up before you could protest.

“I don’t want to crush you.”

At this point, he was panting. A dog seconds away from getting a treat.

“You won’t.”

Art has eaten you out before, and it’s been wonderful. But this? This is a new kind of ecstasy.

His tongue reaches new trenches.

And that fucking nose. It bumped your clit every time. You were gasping and making noises you didn’t know were possible. His mouth is memorizing your folds. He's getting off on your arousal. His tip is red and hurting, but can barely care when a taste crafted just for him is on his lips.

“Shit. Just like that.”

Your thighs trapped his face, your breath hitched with every thrust, and your walls clenched around his tongue.

“Oh god, oh god,”

Truthfully, Art didn't know which of you came first.

The only thing he knew was your body.

You shuffled down and kissed all over his face which was covered in your release.

“You made mommy feel so good.”

He smiled up at you. He was so proud that he could do that for you. Like it was his purpose in life. And oh did he love that nickname. It made him feel all soft, like when you recall a fond memory.

“Do you want Mommy to sit on your cock?”

He whimpered and nodded.

You lined yourself up with him and sank. It was so easy due to both of your juices, you had to concentrate on lowering slowly so he didn’t bottom out too fast.

The two of you moaned in unison. It was almost tantric. Even though the focus here is on Art, it’s impossible not to feel the same pleasure. It wasn’t just your sexualities that were aligned but your souls. The love you felt for each other was palpable.

It didn’t take long for him to bottom out. But it wasn’t enough. You ground your hips into him, causing his voice to raise an octave.

“Oh fuck. Hnnn! Fuck, feels so good, please.”

He was babbling nonsense, unable to create cohesive thoughts or keep any sounds in.

You remove his hands clutching the sheets and replace them with your own. To bring him back to earth.

When he couldn’t get enough he bucked his hips up into yours. Moving aimlessly, mindlessly. You held his hips down to the mattress and bounced on his dick. The sounds of his cock hitting your weeping entrance were insanely beautiful and sinful to listen to.

“Such a good boy.”

His dick jumped inside of you at that. Seemingly of its own volition.

You shifted to pepper kisses on his jawline. The new position forced his cock to rub all kinds of new places. You nearly collapsed onto him from the shock. Heavy exhales leave your mouth. Your pussy suffocates his cock.

“My good boy. Just a dumb little thing for me to use isn't that right.”

Art came on the spot. No warning. His skin flushed and curls were damp on his forehead. Words were coiled at his throat, coming out as broken sobs, wanting more.

You rode him until it was clear he'd finished.

“Did you cum for me, baby?”

“Yes. I'm sorry I should’ve said something I couldn't help it. Felt too good, I didn’t -“

“Shh sweetheart, you did nothing wrong. You can cum in me as many times as you like. That's what I’m here for. That’s what this,” you clenched around him, “is for.”

“Fuck.” his breath quivering. He arched his back, sensitive little thing.

“I love it when you spill yourself into me. it’s so warm in here now.”

You placed his hand on your lower stomach, your womb.

“Can we go again please?”

“Are you sure? I don't want to push you.”

He shuffled so you were both sitting up. causing you to gasp. His erection never left, and it’s ever so prevalent right now.

“Please! Wanna keep myself buried here forever.”

It was hard to remain the level-headed one after hearing that.

“You make me so wet when you say that, Artie.”

There's drool coming from his mouth as he watches you talk. Nothing behind those eyes.

“So wet and needy.”

You soften your voice, and when you talk it’s into his mouth.

“You gonna let me take you again?”

He groaned and nodded, then ferociously kissed you. He wrapped his strong arms around your torso and immediately disliked how much fabric was between the two of you. He ripped your t-shirt and sports bra off in nearly one motion. Sighing when he felt skin on skin.

“I’m going to play with you until there's nothing in that head except my name.”

And you did. You fucked him till his brain turned to mush. Till it felt so good he thought he was going crazy, till he couldn’t even hear how loud he was being. Just blissed out being pulled back into your cunt.

What an honor, to have such an obedient, adoring boy like him.

You let him stay like that, floaty and sweet until he fell asleep to whispered praises.

“My good boy. You did such a good job for me.”

A kiss to his forehead.

“You know I love you so much.”

Tucked under the covers.

“So good for me, honey. You're okay. I'm proud of you. You're all mine, and I'm all yours.”

You raked your nails along his back.

“Relax, It'll all be there for you tomorrow. But for right now, all you need to be is my good, sweet boy. And you are.”

You moved off the bed which concerned Art.

“Are you leaving?”

He looked like he could cry. You cradled his face.

“No baby boy, of course not. I’m only getting you some water. I’ll be right back”

You spoke to him like a child bedridden with a cold. It was clear the comedown was something intense and never experienced before. He needed you next to him right now.

“Alright lovely, I know you’re tired but have a few drinks of this for me.”

You guided the water bottle into his mouth till you were satisfied with the amount he got in his system.

“Rest now. I’ll cuddle you.”

The blonde fell asleep immediately in your embrace and you hoped it wouldn't be the last time you took his thoughts away.

#lapdog agenda #art donaldson #challengers #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson smut #art donaldson fic #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson dumbification #sub art donaldson

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pseudowho · 3 hours

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ummmmmmmmmmmm so i really haven’t been able to get that nanami thirst out of my head, the one where he has girls vying for his attention at all times but he only has eyes for you. THAT ONE MADE ME WANNA START KNAWING ON MY PHONE I LOVE YOUR WRITING BTW but can i possibly ask for something like how the reader takes nanami home after a nice, long, and full day of girls falling over themselves to get his attention and absolutely rocks his world to show that he’s yours….. you get my drift 🌚🌚🌚 (sorry if this ask is too long ive just been thinking about your writing and nothing elseeee 😭)

Oh, you mean THIS OLD THING? I get you...it's hot.

...anyway:

"I'm just sick of it, frankly. It's disrespectful. A total wild abandon of even the most basic manners..." Kento ranted as you followed him through the door, biting your lip, your smile barely-there. You had been on Cloud Nine all day. Any time you had looked up, his eyes were on you. Any time another woman tried to touch him, he shied away as if she were poison. Seeing Kento completely lose his mind at Gojo's flirtations had been the final straw.

Kento may have worshipped you, but you were obsessed with him. You burned for him. You would walk through fire, if he would ignore the lick of the flames just to hold your hand.

Kento was so lost in his rant, that he could barely look at you, grumbling to himself as he stripped off his tie. He tossed it to the floor, stalking away, infuriated...before pausing, heading back and hanging his tie up with a huff. You heard him pace into the bathroom, hearing the taps begin to run as Kento drew a bath.

Knowing he was climbing into the tub to try to scrub away the covetous stares of other women, you waited. And thought. And pondered. And stewed. Each glance, each fingertip-brush of his sleeve, each filthy pointed glare in your direction. You festered with the audacity. While you were gracious, and magnanimous in public, in private, Kento was yours. You heard him slip into the bath. You slipped into something darker.

The bathroom door swung open, slowly, thoughtfully. You leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. Kento lay draped in the clawfoot tub in the bathroom, bespoke, and big enough for him to lie down without needing to bend his legs. Those arms that you loved, thick and corded, flipped over the edges, bubbles tracing down the edges of his biceps. He frowned, his eyes closed, deep in thought.

"I'm sorry." Kento murmured, finally. "I don't try to make other women...act like that."

You hummed, examining your nails.

"I know," you purred, stepping over to him, perching lightly on the edge of the tub, "you're just too...just too much, aren't you?" Kento's eyes flicked open at your tone, seeing your unbridled rage behind some gossamer veneer. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, as that hungry, vengeful gaze trailed down his naked body, a soapy Adonis. The bubbles masked how his cock twitched beneath the surface, too primal to restrain itself just for Kento's uncertainty.

"...darling?" Kento asked, swallowing thickly. He may not be in trouble, but he knew when he was in danger. You pressed one finger to his lips, your other hand beginning to trail circles across his chest, your gaze holding his own. The trails scorched, wildfires left in the wake of your touch. By the time your fingertips started grazing light circles over his nipples, Kento squirmed, his lips parting in a humid gasp beneath your finger.

"How could they know how it is, after all?" You whispered, your fingernails scratching lightly down his chest and belly, now. You leaned over Kento, your clothed breasts dipping into the water, bubbles rushing to invade the valley of your cleavage. Kento trembled, his mind going blank as you silenced him, held him hostage, blood rushing to his cock and making him dumb.

"How could they know that you fall over yourself to sink your tongue inside me?" Your fingers grazed through the honeyed hair on Kento's lower belly, and you clapped a hand over his mouth, capturing the muffled little groan in your palm. The tip of his cock, long, thick and ready, bobbed to the surface, pre-cum mixing with bubbles on his slit.

"How could they know the sounds you make when I ride you? The sounds you make when you cum down my throat? Show me them." You released your hand for just a moment, a husky, ragged moan bursting free. Kento's eyes beseeched you, for release from this blissful punishment. You bit your lip again, a wicked smile in your eyes, and god, how he'd start riots and burn cities for you for just one chance one shot for you only yours for your eyes alone--

"Look at you...such a big man. So strong. The truth is, you could pin me down and do whatever you wanted to me. And you do." You laughed, reaching lower to fondle Kento's heavy, aching balls beneath the surface, feeling him cry out, muffled behind your hand again, twisting and arching out of the water.

"But we both know that behind closed doors...I'm the one that has you pinned down, right? You'd drop everything for me...right?" Kento nodded frantically, a bead of sweat dripping down his chest. He saw stars when your hand gripped his cock, the squeeze tight and possessive. You moaned, soft and wet already, just with the silky-steel weight of him in your palm.

"So just remember, when you're dancing away from all those other girls..." Your hand gripped harder, netting Kento's desperate rumbling moans in your fingers, and beginning to stroke his cock, twisting gently from ball to tip until he bucked into your fist. You kept your hand still, letting him fuck upwards into you. You ignored the splashes as hot bubbled water crept over the edge, splattering onto the floor.

"...remember who you're dancing for, Nanami Kento." Kento was lost, overstimulated by your filth, the myriad erotic images you cast upon his vision, the sheer biting ownership you placed upon him...and, god, it was good. You moved your hand faster now, lubricated by the soap, masturbating Kento until he panted, his eyes glazed and hot beneath your hungry cross-examination.

Reaching for the showerhead, still working on his cock, you set the pressure high, and dipped it beneath the water. So lost was he in being wetly jerked off by you, Kento shouted, fucking upwards again to feel you aim the jet at his balls, forcing them to clench and tighten. Kento couldn't think anymore. Being edged so ferociously had him reeling, and his existence narrowed to just your hands on his cock your hands on his mouth the shower jet pulsing hot water at the base of his length.

"--do anything I'll do anything please-- get in here-- let me love you, please-- shit--cum inside you, please, I-- I can't-- can't take anymore--"

He felt his orgasm building at speed, feeling so pathetic, like a desperate rutting virgin, to be spending himself so easily in your hand. You released the showerhead, and he grasped at your thighs, trying to urge his fingers between your legs. He needed to dip his fingers into your pussy to make this orgasm golden, needed that wet heat around his thick digits--

You grasped his hand, licking his forefinger into your mouth, and Kento cursed aloud, crying out in anguish.

"--fuck...darling I promise I promise, I-- I--"

"...you...you...what?" You urged, fisting around his cock harder to drag him towards the edge. With the hook behind his navel, and the lick of your tongue against his fingers, Kento's eyebrows drew together, his thighs beginning to twitch as his balls tightened up, ready to spend himself in your hand.

You stopped, releasing Kento's twitching cock abruptly. Kento gasped, his chest heaving, rendered stupid and confused.

"...remember who takes care of you, yeah?"

Cooler than a winter morning, you stood, your breasts dripping with pre-cum glossed bubbles. Walking towards the doorframe, you turned, and blew Kento a kiss. He watched you with feverish eyes, gasping and twitching, leaned half forwards, white-knuckled hands gripping the tub.

"--don't--don't leave-- darling-- please-- so close, I--I'm so close..."

With one further bite of your lip, you rubbed his pre-cum between your fingers and reached down, dipping them just inside your entrance with a sweet, high moan.

Throwing his head back, cursing, and spitting, Kento came untouched, thick ropes of seed striping up his abdomen. Kento groaned, bucking against thin air and wishing desperately he was nestled, like your fingers, inside your tight little pussy, taken most of the way to heaven just by imagining it as he came.

You touched yourself to the convulsing, jerking image of him moaning your name, for months to come. Knowing Nanami Kento was yours, and knowing Nanami Kento was yours, were two different beasts entirely.

It was only when you heard Kento's hulking form stand from the bath, the water cascading down as if off a demon's back, that you realised it was your turn to be in danger.

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ifeelthereforeimnot · 2 days

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A concept: John fucks off for a hunt, leaving his teenage boys in a motel. Something happens idk they run out of money or the owner is a creep anyways the boys are effectively homeless. Why can't Dean just get a job? I don't know maybe he did and something happened to Sammy while he was at work and he vowed Never Again anyway

Squatting in abandoned houses, curling up on musty couches to stay warm in the night, clothes shopping in their high school's lost and found bin, Sam standing guard while Dean assaults a vending machine to get them lunches, splurging for a room with a shower when they manage to save enough for a night with electricity and running water, Sam practically living in the library and Dean at the bar except they're somehow also always together.

Whore's baths in gas station bathrooms, impatient employees banging on the door because what the hell are those two boys taking so long in there for, snickering and "one second!" as they toss shirts back and forth and stumble into their jeans, still damp from their "shower" in the sink, Dean pocketing toothpaste on the way out so Sam can brush his teeth on the side of a highway and spit foamy blue into a mud puddle.

That Teenage Immortality thrumming through their veins as they sprint down an alley, laughter echoing off the brick walls and streetlights reflecting in puddles, a wad of cash fisted in Dean's hand and an eighth of weed in Sam's hoodie, good old fashioned hustling and scams and stealing, Sammy's too-long sleeves and floppy hair and mumbled 'scuse me ma'am could I use your phone to call my mom while Dean pockets the liquor aisle, cackling in some empty parking lot as they count their bills and pool their winnings.

It's dark at times, violent, ugly. Going through packs of smokes like candy because they stave off the hunger, Dean batting his eyes at some sleazy shit while Sam's nimble fingers curl around his wallet, sometimes the boys aren't quick enough, sometimes the guy turns around, Dean's hand clutching his gun going from trembling in fear to shaking with rage when he sees that sneer directed at Sammy now like hell is he touching "Sammy, duck!", bullet skimming the guy's shoulder, chests heaving as they sprint away. Dean gets a knife pulled on him trying to hustle a guy at pool and Sam throws himself at the dude and if Dean fights dirty, Sam's downright filthy, he yanks hair and digs his nails in and bites down until he feels a crunch, Dean brushing sweaty hair from Sam's face later as he rinses and spits blood "Jesus, Sammy". Cleaning him up with the shirt off his back soaked in cheap vodka muttering over and over "Jesus, Sammy" as he pictures his boy snarling with blood in his teeth.

John comes back and Dean feeds him some shit about why they had to switch motels and he's too strung out and exhausted to question it. Or why his eldest son's waist has shrunk two belt notches. Or the yellowing finger marks branded into his bicep. Or the shadows under the boys' eyes or their rancid breath from malnutrition or their greasy hair or their dull skin or their dingy clothes, previously belonging to some trucker several sizes larger than them.

To Sam, it was an adventure. He was safe, even when he wasn't. He had his big brother. He had Dean to take care of him and make sure he was safe and fed and clothed and clean and went to school and did his homework and had a place to sleep. He didn't have to worry about those things. But Dean did. He'll laugh and go "yea, Sammy, I remember" but his smile doesn't reach his eyes and he can almost feel that bone deep hunger clawing at his insides, slipping into exhaustion like quicksand but he's white-knuckling his gun, he has to stay awake because he heard a noise outside and Sammy is sound asleep in his lap, he looks so innocent and sweet and safe and Dean is gonna keep him that way.

#sam winchester #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam girl #samdean #wincest #teenchesters #weecest #tessa thinks out loud

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mermaidgirl30 · 8 hours

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✨Crimson Ties✨

Vampire! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Masterlist

A/N: I was listening to “I’m Not A Vampire (Revamped)” by Falling In Reverse, and this angsty one shot just slipped inside the keyboard. I love love love writing in Joel’s POV, especially when it is filled with angst 🩵

Summary: Joel was a creature of the night, a monster who begged to be released from his curse. He wasn’t a good man, didn’t think he deserved anything that shined light on his dark soul. But there was you, the girl he so desperately wanted to stick around, if only for one more night.

“And whiskey seems to be my holy water. And mothers better lock your doors, and hide your daughters. ‘Cause I'm insane, I can feel it in my bones.Coursing through my veins. When did I become so cold? For goodness sakes, where is my self control?If home is where my heart is then my heart has lost all hope.”

-“I’m Not a Vampire” by Falling In Reverse

Word Count: 3.6k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only MDNI)

Tags: Angst, fic in Joel’s POV, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, feelings, pining, smut, oral receiving (female), unprotected p in v, creampie, vampire! Joel, outbreak AU

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Another night of lying on the cold floor, another full bottle of amber whiskey chugged and thrown to the ground, glass littering the dirt covered wood, blood staining the blue flannel that’s wrapped around his tired body. He’s worn out, exhausted from the endless feedings, the mind numbing displeasure of having to drink the blood of the living again and again and again.

Wild animals could only tie him over for so long, humans were the only things that remotely silenced his cravings. But you. Well, you’d be the only thing that kept the unrelenting hunger from ever dissolving from his dead body.

You. The woman he could never truly have. You were a fragile particle of sunlight in his midnight clouded black nights. You were… exquisite, something he never should’ve lured into his lonely, monstrous life.

How many times has he had you? Over a dozen, each time risking your life with how dangerously delicious your blood smelled to him when you writhed beneath his naked body, the silhouette of your sensuous curves and delicate skin glowing under the moonlit skies.

He always came so close to nipping at your neck, biting into your sweet flesh each time his fingers were curled up into the soft walls of your dripping core, your melodic moans filling the room with every stroke of his thick cock inside you, each quake you gave from him running the blood soaked lips down your soft skin, begging to be let in, to taste the perfect rush of blood that coursed through your supple breasts.

It’d take just one bite and he’d be gone, not able to detach himself from your glistening skin, getting blood drunk off your crimson red life beneath your muscles. He can see it now, ripping the flesh from your perfect neck, nails digging into the meat of your skin, so fucking gone that he’d turn into the blood thirsty monster that he was, that he is.

Maybe he should end it, drive a wooden stake through his own non-beating heart, stop the endless cycle of whatever the two of you keep doing with each other.

He wants to end it, needs to keep you away, but he can’t. He has no strength, no ounce of restraint from you. So he lures you back into his king sized bed that’s donned in crimson red velvet sheets, the one where he fucks you relentlessly until you have nothing left to give but your own shaking breath that blows down the dip of his neck night after night.

He holds you tight in his arms, watching you slip from his grasp while you fall asleep on his broad chest, soft breaths breathing in and out after he takes control of your whole body against the damp sheets that are filled with the smell of you.

He almost can’t stand it. The smell of your rose scented hair, the feel of your buttery soft skin against his jagged nails, the taste of your sweet, drenched pussy as his tongue parts your folds and laps up the sticky slick that he gets so drunk off. The taste burns against his tongue, even hours after he’s finished, making his cravings deepen with every flick and taste of you on his lips.

He fights the monster that begs to be released when he’s clawing at your back, his sharp fangs hidden from view when his lips glide down your neck, sucking the taste of your syrupy skin, drowning in the smell of your rosemary perfume, fighting himself to not sink his sharp incisors deep into your jugular veins.

He distracts himself when he’s slotting his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your pretty little moans that slip out of you each time he thrusts his cock deeper and deeper into your core, eliciting the most insatiable moans that he will never tire of hearing. He feeds into your desires, caging you against his broad chest, flexed arms hugging your body, making you cum time and time again until he’s right on the edge himself, throwing back his tousled curled head, extracting his fangs as the blood rushes through his cock, threading his eyebrows together in a tight line until he’s calling your name and spilling warm ropes of cum deep inside you, claiming you as his own.

He always feels the guilt after watching you sleep in his arms night after bloody night, his eyes never leaving your pretty face, his hand stroking light circles into your delicate skin. He hates it, hates having to leave you before the sun rises. All so he can go hide in the dark shadows where the blazing sun won’t burn him alive.

He fights himself day after day, tormenting his mind from holding back what he really wants to say to you. He wants to tell you. God, he wants to. The way he never stops thinking about you, the way your hand fits perfectly into his calloused palm, the way he can’t ever shake the way you feel beneath his skin, the way he loves the way your eyes sparkle in the moonlight as the white curtains blow against your flawless face. The way he…. loves you, even though he shouldn’t because he’s a monster. A fucking blood sucking demon that should be dragged to hell where he belongs. At least there you wouldn’t be able to reach him, even though it kills him to think about losing you.

He sits in a heap on the cold floor, clawing at the fraying wallpaper, tears staining his eyes as the crimson blood soaks through his blue flannel. He couldn’t hold it any longer, his thirst for blood. He had to feed. Another deer wouldn’t do. He smelled the stench of fresh blood and pulsing veins in the forest, attacked with his sharp fangs before they even knew what hit them. He didn’t stop. Not when they screamed, not when they fought with white knuckles and strained cries that were silenced by the weight of his fangs that were sunk deep in the unknown stranger in the middle of the night.

He sucked them dry, hollowing out their bleeding body while he bathed in the delectable crimson that stained his clothes dark red. He didn’t care at the moment, was too drunk on the blood to even realize what he did, until it was too late.

When he was finished feasting he stumbled back, wiping his bloody mouth on the back of his hand, dark eyes growing wide with every step taken after breaking the spell of the hunger that drove him to this. He gasped at the sight, violent red staining the dirt crimson, mind twisting into sheer horror from what he did. This wasn’t the first time, wasn’t even the second time, but it never got easier to realize just how monstrous he had become over the years.

He ran all the way back to his empty home, tears spilling down his dark eyes, muffled cries for help fleeting from his lips, but who exactly was listening? He was alone, forgotten, a broken monster that sunk his sharp incisors into the world, spilling bloodshed all around whatever he touched. That’s why he was so afraid for you, his perfect girl, the one he could never truly make his. He was afraid, so scared of hurting you one of these nights. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t, but that didn’t mean accidents couldn’t happen. He’d surely kill himself before he killed you, though. Not his precious rose, your soft petals cushioning the blow of his fucked up life. You were never supposed to enter into his life, but you did. And god, he loved you so fucking much that it hurt.

The smell of fresh blood is everywhere, covering his flannel, his hands, his chin, even the tips of his grey threaded dark locks. His body shakes beneath him, anger and turmoil crashing over his system until he buries his face into the corner of the wall and hides his hideous face from the world. He’s a monster, nothing more and nothing less, only a mere speck of dust in the corner of the room that begs to be taken away from the darkness that encapsulates him.

His blood stained lips quiver, thinking that could’ve been you in the forest. He could’ve fucking ripped your throat apart until you were nothing but a ghost left in the dirt, fangs tearing you apart until your gorgeous eyes shined no more.

He claws at the wall, warm tears pricking the backs of his eyes as he bares his teeth, body clinging against the wall until he feels like he could split it in two. His body is so cold, lifeless, haunted by the cries of fallen victims and innocent bloodshed spilled. He should get up, run far away, somewhere you’ll never find him again. But that might kill him more than anything, leaving you without one last goodbye.

He clenches his jaw and lets a fresh tear slide against the side of his dark beard, body barely holding on to life while he clings to the memory of your sunlit face, your pure essence, your soft, lilty voice that haunts his sleepless nights. He’s so in love with you that it physically hurts, but he could never tell you. Never bear to burden you with those words, those goddamned three words that haunt him day after day.

He’s just a worthless, blood shedding monster, but you’re the only one that knows how to tame the fangs. The only one that can remotely cure him of the sickness that invades his eternal body. You were pure sunlight, and he couldn’t even begin to describe how much you meant to him. His sunflower in the bed of nightshade that made up his body. You were eternal sunlight, so how could he turn away from that?

He gets lost in his thoughts, doesn’t even notice the creaking footsteps against the hardwood floor until he hears the whisper of your shaking breath.

“Joel?” you call, voice quaking against the sight of the blood doused flannel.

He freezes, not daring to turn around when he’s a mess on the floor, eyes averted from your wandering gaze. “Go away,” he shivers, his voice rugged and broken, just like his tired body is from the loss of the life he stole.

“Joel,” you try again, taking one timid step in his direction.

He clenches his jaw, his fingers digging into the crimson stains in his dark jeans as he fights another sharp response. “I said go away.”

He smells the fear on you when you see the dark red stains that coat the front of his flannel, cringes at the repulsing feelings that must be flying through your head right now. You’ve never seen him like this, right after a fresh attack, the blood clinging to ever fiber of his clothes. It kills him, it fucking kills him.

“No,” you whisper, taking another slow step in his direction, your breath faltering with every motion you take.

He cringes with every step you take, having you so close in such a vulnerable state. He can’t fucking take it.

He shouldn’t have ever pulled you into the reins of his hands, should never have lured you into his bed chambers. You’re too good, too delicate, too soft. One taste, that’s all it took to keep you coming back for more. It was almost resentful how he was so selfish to keep you, even though he never intended to. You were too special, a rare rose in a sea of thorns that made up his life, but you stayed. You stayed. And he’ll never understand why a rare flower like you would stay for him. A monster that only shreds and devours pretty flowers.

“Why won’t you ever fuckin’ listen? Jus’… go.” His voice is defeated, gravelly tone breaking on the last syllable as he hangs his head low, across the stained shirt that reminds him of what he did.

“Because. I… I don’t want to leave,” you mutter, your voice catching on your shuttering lips. “You need me. You need…”

He growls in your direction, turning his body so you can see just what kind of monster he really is, scowling your way as his eyes darken to black pits. “This is what you need?! A killer of the night? Look at me, I’m a goddamned monster! I KILLED someone tonight, I MURDERED ‘em in cold blood because I couldn’t control myself!”

You look taken aback, eyes wide and teary as he snarls up at you, demanding with his big teeth that you turn and leave, run away so you won’t have to look at the blood that covers him and marks him a murderer.

You just stand there unmoving, waiting for god knows what. And that makes him angry, so fucking angry that you won’t listen to a goddamn thing he says. “Well! What’re you standin’ there for? I said LEAVE!” His words come out pained, tears licking the corners of his saddened eyes while you just stand there speechless staring at the man that could never keep you safe, not really.

“Joel,” you whisper, words failing you as a tear streaks down your crimson cheeks. It makes him cover his head, hide his face from the girl he can’t stand to show himself to at this moment in time. He’s broken, so fucking broken, and not even you could take away every sliver of pain he’s felt in all his worthless years. He regrets ever bringing you here, drawing you in till you didn’t want to leave.

“Jus’… stop. I’m not good for you, I never was. I’m jus’ a monster. A goddamned bloodsucking vampire. Now jus’ go. Please…” he begs, hiding his face in the shadows while you stand there in a puddle of sorrow.

You inch closer, tip-toeing the floorboards until you’re crouched down beside him, pulling on his blood stained flannel, begging him to just look at you. “Joel, please. Look at me.”

He shakes his messy mane, trying to pull himself away, but you thread your fingers through his greying scruff and turn his head towards you. He fights your touch, finally giving up when your soft fingers dig into his soiled shirt, one hand delicately skimming the side of his jaw, your thumb rubbing off the blood that stains along his tainted lips.

He watches you quietly brush away a teardrop that escapes his watery eyes, mesmerized by how soft you are with him, even in the rough shape he is, after he just murdered someone in cold blood.

He can’t take it, the guilt that eats him alive. So he breaks, shedding another tear while you so gracefully wipe it away with the flick of your finger. “I killed someone tonight, I did that. I…”

You silence him, quietly shushing him while he bites back another whimper. “It was an accident, only an accident,” you reply softly, no taste of bitterness or fear in your voice, only something that’s so you. Soft, you’re so soft, so lovely, something that he never deserved. Not after all he’s done, after all he’s killed.

He tries to pull away, tries anything to get you to pry your fingers from his button-up, but you don’t. You just stay right there, coiled around him while you smooth a tousled lock of hair back in place, eyes never leaving his.

“I’m a monster. I watched them die, I didn’t stop, I didn’t have the will to. I jus’ drained them. And that could’ve been you. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if…”

“Shhh,” you say soothingly, fingers dancing down his greying scruff, glistening eyes reflecting that he’s okay. He’s home, safe in the shadows, safe with you. “It wasn’t me, Joel. It was just an accident. You didn’t mean it. It’s alright now. I’m here.”

Something in your soft words soothes him like a distant lullaby, calming his fears, but eliciting more tears from his wide eyes, staring at the girl that started a fire in his dead heart long ago, revealing a way to get his heart pumping just by looking at your beautiful smile, your kind soul, your very essence.

Something breaks in him when you flick your eyes over his bloody clothes and don’t even cringe, only giving him those soft puppy eyes that he can never say no to. He crumbles into your arms, pulling you flush against his chest as he cries into the crook of your neck. He feels your fingers comb through his hair, the other clinging to your back as it draws lazy circles up and down his spine.

He can’t hold it in any longer. It slips from his tongue, an elation of words that he never thought he’d ever say again. “I love you…”

You sigh into his broad chest, lips brushing against the fading material as you muster up the words you too had been holding back. “I love you too, Joel Miller. I have for quite some time…”

He brings his head up and cups the sides of your face, his dark eyes brightening by the swell of your teary eyes, your sweet smile curling up towards him, pure love screaming from the pits of your beautiful irises. He wastes no time and crashes his lips down on yours, fusing his lips to yours like a sworn oath. You melt into his chest, circling your arms around his neck while you slot your lips and allow him to enter. He licks slowly into your mouth, tongue finding yours while they dance together in unison, bodies entwining until you're pressed beneath him on the sheets, completely naked while you toss and turn in the massive bed.

He marks his way down your body, caressing your supple breasts, splaying your legs open for him to lick and suck you dry, tongue pressing meticulous circles over your aching clit until he gets you right where he needs you to be. You spill, covering his tongue in your sticky slick while he laps you up and drinks you down feverishly. He drowns in your sweet taste, swears nothing has ever tasted better than being between your legs. He could make you cum all night long, hearing your pretty moans fill his ears while he takes it all from you, leaving you with pure ecstasy running through your sweet veins.

When he’s finished tasting you he takes you slow, sliding his cock between your slick folds while he gently bottoms out inside of you. He takes his time and rocks back and forth, swallowing your moans as he kisses you deeply, sensually. He doesn’t stop either, not even when you’re right at your next release.

“Joel,” you moan, body writhing beneath him while your walls squeeze his thick length, causing him to groan over you.

“Attagirl. That’s it, my love. Takin’ me so fuckin’ good,” he praises while he ruts deeper inside you, chasing his own release which doesn’t take him long. He throws his head back, knits his eyebrows together and calls your name, spilling his hot cum inside you just how you like it.

He slips out of you, crashing down on the opposite side of the bed while he pulls you into his chest, kissing the top of your head softly while his fingers trace circles over the back of your shoulder soothingly.

He’s quiet for a minute, reminiscing on everything that happened tonight. The way you chose to stay. For him, you did it all for him.

He whispers, a ghost of a breath lingering over the shell of your ear. “You stayed… you weren’t afraid?” he asks nervously, biting his bottom lip while he waits for you to answer.

You nuzzle deeper into the side of his neck and murmur sweet words against his jawline. “No, Joel. I was only afraid of losing you. I was never afraid of you. Not even when you showed me your fangs. I guess I just saw past all that. I saw a man that was dying to be seen, to be heard, to be known. You were so… lonely. And I just couldn’t bear to leave you alone. You’re not a monster to me, Joel. You’re the man I fell in love with. You’re mine. Just as I am yours,” you whisper, settling closer into the side of his chest.

“Mine…” he repeats breathlessly, eyes locked on the beauty that never ran away. You’re his. His.

“Mhm. Yours…”

A few seconds later you’re out cold, face nuzzled into the scruff of his beard, one arm slung around his broad chest. He lies there staring at you, running his calloused fingers up and down your back, gently carding them through your beautiful locks. He stares wide-eyed, a tear falling from the side of his eye as he looks at the beauty that saved him from slipping away into the shadows forever.

He’s got you, forever, as long as you’ll stay with him. He hopes it’ll be for eternity.

All he’s ever wanted was someone to stay by choice, all these years waiting for nothing to happen. But then there was you. You who chose to stay. You stayed, and that’s all he ever wanted.

You. The love of his life that chose him when no one else would’ve. Love. He’s so in love. Maybe he’s not all teeth and darkness anymore, maybe he’s more. You made him more. The moonlight that lights the way out of the darkness forever. His guiding light home.

Tagging some mutuals 🩵 @msjarvis @alltheirdamn @mountainsandmayhem @sawymredfox @littlevenicebitch69

@yxtkiwiyxt @magpiepills @jasminedragoon @milla-frenchy @aurorawritestoescape

@survivingandenduring

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #Joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #outbreak au

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strlvvr · 1 day

Text

my best friends brother (is the one for me) - part four

ahhh finally i finished part four. this was so hard for no reason

read part four here!

word count: 1014 words

warnings: slight angst?

⋆｡˚ ⋆｡˚ ⋆｡˚ ୭ৎ ⋆｡˚ ⋆｡˚ ⋆｡˚

i looked up from my phone when i heard knocking on my front door. i paused my movie and got up, knowing exactly who was at the door. i walked down my stairs and opened the door, seeing matt already biting his nails.

“why weren’t you answering your phone?” he said, relieved to see me in one piece.

“i didn’t feel like it.” i said, turning around and walking back into my house, knowing he was going to invite himself in no matter what.

“y/n please. what is going on? you’ve been off all day.” he pleaded with me, following me into my kitchen.

“i’ve been off? what about you and how you’ve been acting since nick walked into your room this morning?” i retort, starting to get angry with him. he’s done nothing but ignore me all day, only taking time to say something to me when it’s convenient for him. on his terms.

“y/n..” matt pleaded.

“no i don’t wanna hear it,” i snapped, “you do this every time something between us ever happens and i’m sick of it.”

“i’m sorry, okay?” he yelled, throwing his hands up and into his hair.

“for what? for ignoring me all day or acting like you like me?” i yelled back, immediately turning around so he couldn’t see the tears forming in my eyes.

he stayed quiet, and when i turned to look at him, he was on his way out the door.

once the door closed behind him, i sighed, unable to stop the tears falling. i shouldn’t have let myself believe that he could ever want me.

i collected myself and went back to my room, hoping that watching my movie would take my mind off what had just happened. i grabbed my phone, going into matt’s contact. i stared at it, debating on texting or calling him. after a while, i threw my phone across my bed, paying attention to the movie playing. i ended up falling asleep half way through it.

i woke up to my phone ringing. i ignored it, thinking it was matt calling me. it rang again and i picked it up, seeing it was nick calling me.

“hello?” i answered, still half asleep.

“do you have any idea why matt is all pissy?” nick asked immediately.

“i don’t know, he came over ‘cause i wasn’t getting his calls since my phone died on my way home,” i lied, hoping he wouldn’t see through it, “he seemed pissy when he got here though.”

nick groaned before replying, “we were supposed to film a wednesday video but he hasn’t come out of his room and is ignoring me and chris.”

i felt bad, knowing this was partially my fault. “i don’t know, i’m sorry.” i said, grabbing my remote and turning off my tv.

“no it’s fine, i was just wondering if you knew anything.” nick said before saying goodbye and hanging up.

i stared at my ceiling, wondering what was wrong with him. i couldn’t stop my mind from telling me that maybe he does have some sort of feelings for me.

i grabbed my phone and started drafting a text to matt.

‘can we talk? i’m sorry’ i stared at the text, debating on sending it or not. my thumb hovered over send before deleting the message. i threw my phone down and decided to go grab some food.

i open my fridge, finding some grapes i had just bought and put some in a bowl. i walked over to the couch and sat down, thinking about the conversation between me and matt. i regretted what i said, overthinking it way too much.

what if what i said made him think i had feelings for him? i thought about what nick said about matt. what if he felt the same?

i saw a car, similar to matt’s, outside my house. it couldn’t be his, especially not with the way we left things.

i heard a knock on my door. i got up, my heart racing as i go answer the door.

“look i don’t want to leave things how we did, and again you aren’t answering you’re phone. god why can’t you just answer your damn phone,” matt pushes through me, clearly out of breath.

“my phone is in my room..” i trailed off, letting him continue his rant. i followed him into my room, he grabbed my phone and handed it to me.

“i’ve texted you about fifteen times, called you three times. you worry me,” he looked at me softly, “please. just keep your phone with you.”

“i’m sorry.” i mumbled, grabbing my phone and looking down at all the notifications from matt. i couldn’t understand why he seemed to care so much, considering just that morning he was ignoring me.

“it’s okay, just- i don’t know” he shook his head, turning to leave.

“wait, why don’t you stay?” i asked him, wanting to hang out with him.

“yeah?” he chuckled, clearly seeing how much i wanted to be in his company.

i walked to my kitchen, grabbing drinks for us out of the fridge. i heard him behind me and before he could get too close, i turned around reaching one of the waters i grabbed towards him. as much as i wanted a repeat of last night, i couldn’t let it happen. if it was going to end even slightly close to that, i’d rather walk into oncoming traffic.

we made our way to my living room, getting comfy on my couch. i felt matt try to get closer, i inched away slightly, not wanting to let myself get close to him again. he moved back to his original seat, not wanting to push anything.

“are we gonna watch anything?” matt asked, looking over at me.

“i mean what else do we ever do,” i grabbed the remote, turning the tv in and going into netflix.

i put on some comedy show, one of matt’s favorites. i grabbed my phone and text nick, letting him know matt was at my house.

tag list

@beersangel @whoseyouare @wh0schl0 @st7rnioioss @slutsformatt @h3arts4harry @matthewscherrypie @satvisfavetoodles @secret-sturniolo @mattsturniololoverr @blablablabla2525 @melanch0lybby @always-reading @bbernard-03 @matthewsturniolosgirlfriend101 @sleepysturnss @edgemaster696 @strnilolo @engene28 @mattspolitank @ribread03 @veysxrge @bernardsgf @syn-wr1tes @realuvrrr @sturniolo0ntop @chrisstopherfilmed2 @sturniol0s @pinklittleflower @sturniluvr

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fic #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo fic #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo imagine #sturniolo #sturniolo triplet imagine #sturniolo triplet fic

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kazutora-kurokawa · 20 hours

Note

I'm just going to ask this... vampire!rindou x vampire slayer!reader? an encounter that ends with the two of them fucking? 😋

Vampire!Rindou x Vampire Slayer!Reader

♡ NSFW, fem reader, breaking and entering, reader is lowkey strong asf, biting + bloodsucking, rough sex, unprotected sex+creampie ♡

note: thanks for requesting love 🩷 sorry it's so late

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Rindou was having a peaceful night in, relaxing in his room and messing around with the DJ table Ran had brought him, when he heard a loud crash. He didn't think much of it though, assuming that it was Ran coming home wasted or making a mess in the kitchen. However, he quickly became aware of your presence when you kicked his bedroom door in, knocking it off the hinges.

He jumped out of bed, ready to defend himself before he caught a glimpse of your face. Even though it was partially covered by a mask, he could just tell that you were the prettiest woman he's ever seen in his life. He went from on defense to pure simp, you could've stepped on him and he wouldn't have cared. You can tell he let his guard down and immediately get suspicious, thinking that he's planning on attacking you.

Yet the way he's looking at your body makes it obvious that he has other intentions, and for once in your career, you might just have to make an exception and fuck your target. He looked as if he wanted to absolutely devour you, the desire evident in his eyes as he pounced on you, pinning you on the floor. He bit down harshly on your neck, sucking your blood and biting harder when he felt your nails digging into his back. His hands fumbled with your clothes, purposely groping you in the process.

As soon as he had you undressed, he was all over you. His hands exploring every inch of your body as he listened to the sweet noises that came from your mouth. He stuck his face back into the crook of your neck, nipping at your soft skin and licking the bite marks he left behind. He undid his pants, pressing his tip against your cunt before burying himself inside you. Rindou was immortal, but he'd be damned if your pussy didn't feel like he died and went to heaven.

The way you squeezed him so tightly, taking everything he gave you with a blissed out look on your face, it drove him off the deep end. His thrusts became rougher, his cock hitting every inch of your walls as he felt you gushing around him. He bit down hard on your shoulder as he came inside you, filling you up. He could tell you were just as spent as he was, so using the little bit of strength he had left, he stood up from the floor and carried you to his bed. Obviously he'd have to explain the mess he assumed was in the living room from you breaking in..and his broken door..and you, a literal vampire hunter, being in his bed to Ran the next morning. But for now he was content with laying next to you, gently lapping at the marks on your neck as he fell asleep.

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Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe @southside-otaku @xxchthonicreaturexx

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fanfiction #rindou x reader #tokyo revengers smut #rindou smut #my brain isn't working rn so yeahh #wrote this while listening to Speaker Knockerz #got a yummy kafka idea but my brain won't cooperate with me ☹️#I'm simping for hoshino from kn8 btw like real bad #if I post something about him just know he's mine fr I'm claiming his sexy ass #with his slutty waist 😮‍💨 that shirt was tighttt #the fact that I still have 3 requests 🫠 I'll die before I ever answer them 😭

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oreolemur · 1 day

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Ok so how about a Megumi x female reader.... Where Megumi is a bully... He bullied the reader so much. But the reader Fears Megumi so much so she didn't tell anything to Megumi. Reader had a crush on Yuta. They weren't in a relationship but they liked each other so much... Megumi doesn't like it...cz he loves the reader but never tells anyone cz he loves to bully her.... So being jealous one day he raped the reader and made a video of it and send it to Yuta...

Here you go!!

Watching you from a distance, Megumi couldn’t stand to see you happy with Yuta. “That shit pisses me off”, he muttered. It wasn’t like the two of you were dating. You and Yuta have been best friends since elementary school, but as you both got older, you started to develop feelings for each other. “Wanna hang out this weekend?”, Yuta asked. “My roommate will be out of town. We can watch movies and binge on snacks”. He was always a sweet guy. “Sure, sounds fun”, you smiled, gathering your stuff as you began to head to your next class. “Alright, see you Saturday”, Yuta waved goodbye, going his separate ways. You watched him leave, blushing at the thought of having alone time with him. “Eek, I can’t wait!”.

Once you made it to your next period, you sat down, sighing. “I hope he’s absent today”. You look at the classroom’s entrance, watching and waiting. “Please don’t be here. Please don’t be here”. You bite your nails, bouncing your leg. “Move your bag”, a voice said beside you. You were so focused on one entrance of the classroom that you forgot all about the other. You look next to you, seeing Megumi…your bully. “Move your goddamn bag”, he repeated. You quickly did, placing it on the floor. “I-I thought you weren’t coming today”, you said. Megumi took a seat next to you. “You’d like that wouldn’t you”, he responded. You knew you would actually. Megumi was always mean to you, taunting you however he saw fit.

Even during lessons, he didn’t care about the fact that you were trying to learn. He would sharpen his pencil, stabbing you in the thigh with it. What made it worse was that you always wore dresses and skirts, so it was easy access for him. “Please stop”, you begged, on the verge of crying. Megumi could hear the pain in your voice. “If you cry I will do it harder”, he said, digging the sharp object into your skin. You clenched your fists, trying not to cry. Your bully heard you struggling as you took deep shaky breaths. “Tch, pathetic”. But that’s not the only thing he would do. When class ended, he would take it upon himself to trip you, making you fall. One day, you fell so hard your face hit your textbooks, causing your nose to bleed.

You could never escape Megumi. He had you wrapped around his finger. You were his toy and he loved to play with you. Even when you thought it was ok to avoid him, he punished you for it. When he did hit you, he would beat you in places you could cover up. “You know what happens if you tell anyone about this right?”. He would threaten you, making you sure you kept quiet. You never understood what you could’ve done for him to treat you this way. “W-why do you hurt me?”. You asked that question often, but all he ever said was, “Because I want to”.

No matter how close you were with Yuta, you knew you would never have the courage to tell him. He was your safe space, a person that made you smile, and a shoulder to cry on. “He would be heartbroken hearing about this”. You always put on a smile around him, although some days you were in pain or depressed about your situation. No one could make you feel better than Yuta. Maybe that’s why you have feelings for him? “Are you ready to have fun with me tomorrow”, Yuta asked, walking you back to your dorm. “Of course I am”, you blushed. Seeing your face turn red, Yuta blushed as well. “D-did you pick a time for us to meet? I was thinking we could go out to eat first”, the man asked. Dinner with your crush? You were flustered, “Um…h-how about…7?”, you suggested. Yuta agreed to it.

Once you reached your dorm, you hugged Yuta goodbye. “I’ll see you tomorrow”, you said. Before you could walk off, Yuta grabbed you by the arm, pulling you in. “What-”, he cut you off, smashing his lips onto yours. “How was that?”, he asked, shocked by his boldness. You blinked a few times as he left you speechless. “Did you not like it?”, he wondered. You shook your head. “N-No…I loved it”. You quickly pecked his lips, walking off. “See you tomorrow!”, you shouted.

Opening the main entrance to your dorm, you ran into your bully. The two of you looked at each other in silence. “W-what are you doing here?”, you asked. Megumi continued to stare at you. He was furious, but didn’t show it. “Do you like him?”, he asked. You looked at him confused, “Who?”. He sucked his teeth, getting up. “You know who”, he said. “Do you like him…Yuta?”. You nod, “Y-yes, why?”. Megumi stood in front of you, staring into your eyes. He didn’t say anything…just looked. “What do you want?”, you questioned. He ignored your question, walking out of the building. You looked back at him, wondering what that was. “At least he didn’t hurt me”, you said.

❤~The Next Day~❤

You spent the entire evening getting yourself ready to go out with Yuta. “I have to look my best”, you said looking into your closet for something cute to wear. “This will do”. You picked out a cute black skirt that was knee high. Then you chose a pink long sleeve with ribbons on it. You were so excited that it was hard to contain your happiness. “I can’t believe he kissed me”, you blushed. Having Yuta as your first kiss was a dream come true. “I’m glad he likes me back. Maybe he’ll ask me out”. You daydreamed about the two of you being together. A dream with just love and security…and no Megumi. Definitely no Megumi. You couldn’t help but think about the awkward run in you had with him yesterday. “What was his problem?”. You shook it off, focusing on getting ready. “Nothing will stand in the way of my happiness tonight”.

Meanwhile Megumi was in his apartment, sitting on the couch. He stared blankly at the TV which wasn’t even on. “She likes him”, he said. The man saw everything that happened between you and Yuta. “They kissed”. He was in his feelings. “She belongs to me”. Megumi loved you. But how could that be? He clenched his fists at the idea of you dating someone other than him. He wanted you. You were his and his only. It didn’t matter that all he does is hurt you. “She’s mine”. He got up from the couch, grabbing his keys. He decided it would be best to go for a nightly stroll to clear his head.

❤~6:30pm~❤

You checked yourself in the mirror. “I look so cute”, you smiled. You applied some makeup to your face, adding any finishing touches to it. “Ok…done”. You grabbed your purse and phone, sending a text to Yuta that you’re on the way. You exited your room, heading down stairs. The moment you got to the main entrance, you saw Megumi standing there. It was like he was waiting for something…or someone. You slowly opened the door, wondering why he was there. “Megumi? W-why are you here?”. He took a step close to you, staring. “What do you-”, before you could finish, he slapped you. “Ow”. You rubbed your cheek, looking at him with tearful eyes. “Come with me”, he said. You shook your head, “I can’t I-”. He hit you again. “Come with me”, he repeated. Your cheek began to bruise. You held your face, looking down at the floor. Megumi watched you cry, feeling nothing. He stepped closer to you, grabbing your face. “When your boyfriend tells you to do something you do it”, he said.

You looked at him confused. “B-boyfriend?”, you paused. “We’re not even dating”. He grabbed your wrists, dragging you along with him. “Let's go”. You stumbled, trying to catch up with him. “Please let go of me”, you begged, attempting to pull your arm away from him. He gripped you tighter, digging his nails into your skin. You knew you were powerless against him, so you had no other choice but to follow him. He took you across campus to the apartments that were beside the university. “I hope he doesn’t beat me badly this time”, you hoped. Once he approached his front door, he opened it, pushing you inside.

You jumped when his dogs began to bark at you. “Ignore them”, he said, guiding you to his bedroom. He ordered you to sit on the bed as he closed the door behind him. “Can we make this quick? I-I have somewhere important to be”, you stated. You took out your phone, looking at the time.”Give me your phone”, Megumi demanded. You didn’t want to. “Why?”, you asked. He walked up to you, snatching it out of your hand. “H-hey, come-”. He slapped you again, making the bruise even worse. “Please stop hitting me”, you begged. Megumi ignored you, unlocking your phone. “You think it’s ok to cheat on me?”, he said. The man kept confusing you. “Cheat? What are you talking about?”. Megumi scoffed, “You know exactly what I’m talking about”.

He was beyond delusional at this point. “I saw what you and Yuta did!”. You can see the anger in his eyes as he was starting to lose his composure. “He kissed you and-”, Megumi was cut off. A text from Yuta came through. “What does he mean “Are you still coming?”, the man asked. “W-we were supposed to hang out tonight”, you said. Megumi bawled his fists. “What!”. He grabbed you by the neck, pinning you on the bed. He choked you as he spewed nonsense about you belonging to him. You clawed at his hands, trying desperately to get him to unhand you. “S-stop”, you begged. His grip became harder. Your eyes started to roll to the back of your head. Your body continued to fight back, but the longer he choked you…your limbs grew weak. “Damnit!”, Megumi shouted as he let go. You gasped for air as he got off you.

Megumi reached for your phone, unlocking it again. “Guess I’ll have to show you AND him who you belong to”. He went to your camera, pressing record. He set the device on his dresser, making sure it was facing the bed. As he approached you, you noticed he was taking off his clothes. You tried to sit up, but he pushed you back down. His hands took hold of your skirt, pulling it off along with your panties. You tried to stop him but he smacked your hand away. “Keep fighting and I’ll make it worse”, he warned. You didn’t want to take that chance, so you compiled. Megumi pried your legs open, spitting on your pussy, before shoving his full length in. You cried out in pain, feeling him thrust hard. “Shut up and take it”, he said. He groaned at how tight you were. It was painful, you never thought that your first time would be like this.

He lifted up your shirt, exposing your jiggling breasts. He grabbed them, squeezing hard. “Megumi…please”, you sobbed. Megumi ignored you, continuing to do as he pleased. “Fuck”, he moaned, going harder. You couldn’t stop clenching around him. Your tight walls milked his cock, making the man blush. He leaned into your face, holding it still as he kissed you. You cried into his mouth as he forcefully stuck his tongue inside. The phone was still recording, catching everything that Megumi was doing to you. He pulled away from your mouth, looking back at the device, grinning. “Perfect”, he whispered. He drew his attention back to you, staring at your tearful face. “Don’t act like you don’t like it”, he said. “You’re supposed to love your boyfriend’s cock inside you”.

Megumi stopped, flipping you over on your stomach. He lubed your ass up with spit, rubbing his dick against your anus. “Are you done?”, you asked. “I can’t take anymore”. He grabbed your hair, yanking your head back. Your body was pressed against his chest as he whispered into your ear. “You’ll take whatever I give you”. He pushed you back down, thrusting hard into your ass. You were shocked by how much it hurt. Your cries grew louder. Megumi dug his nails into your waist, holding it for support. “St-stop”, you whimpered. It didn’t take long for your voice to die down. Your vision blurred as you started to pass out. “About time you shut the fuck up”, Megumi said.

❤~Hours Later~❤

You woke up, lying naked beside your bully. He was sound asleep with his arm wrapped around you. You slowly got up, trying not to make a sound. It was hard to move. You can tell he did more after you lost consciousness. “I know Yuta is disappointed in me”, you said. As you got dressed, you looked for your phone, grabbing it off Megumi’s nightstand. “What the hell?”, you stared at you and Yuta’s messages. He blew up your phone, making you wonder why. As you scrolled up more, your heart dropped. Megumi sent the video to him. “W-why would he do that?”. He edited the video to when you had passed out. He made it look like the two of you were having sex. You cried silently as you grabbed your purse to leave.

“I’m guessing you saw the video”, Megumi woke up, hearing you sniffle. You looked back at him, asking him why he did that. “Because I love you…”, he got up from the bed, walking over to you. His hand reached out, caressing your face. “You think I want to see you happy with someone else”. He wiped away your tears, taking the phone out of your hand. “Looks like my plan worked”, he read the messages, feeling proud of himself. “You’re an asshole”, you said, snatching your phone out of his hands. Megumi laughed at you. He didn’t care that he ruined your chance with Yuta. All that mattered was that you were his. “Don’t be mad, sweetheart. You’ll grow to love me soon enough”.

#jujutsu kaisen #dark writing #tw noncon #jjk smut #jujustsu kaisen smut #jjk megumi #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fushiguro #yandere megumi #megumi x reader

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monsterfuckerconfessions · 4 hours

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Imagine you have a sleep paralysis demon. You tell yourself he’s not real but he is. He was only there at first to terrorize you so he can feed off your fear but slowly became obsessed with you.

One hot summer night in July your roommates are out on vacation and didn’t take you. It’s stiflingly hot even with AC and you can’t get comfortable so you sleep naked.

The demon watches you undress and can’t stop himself from getting hard. As you sleep it gets worse. You toss and turn, making the covers slip down and expose your body to him. He can’t resist anymore.

You awake to find him on top of you, grinding his hips against yours. He cups one of your breasts, kneading it and licking at your hard nipple as he lets out a low growl. You’re terrified, paralyzed by fear but can’t deny he’s touching you just right and can’t help but notice that up close he’s…beautiful.

You tell yourself you’re just dreaming and it’s all in your head but it feels real when he kisses you.

After a while he pulls back. Tentacles shoot out from his body and wrap themselves around your bare thighs and forcing them apart. Flustered you try to close them but you’re can’t and now there’s no hiding how wet he made you. “Looks like you like me after all.”

He spreads your outer lips apart to reveal your opening and tells you you have the prettiest pussy he’s ever seen. He caresses your outer lips making you moan and slipping another slick tentacle inside you.

You should fight back but no longer want to. You can’t help but buck your hips against the appendage. The further it goes in the thicker it gets, stretching you open for him, twisting around inside you until you start shaking. He smirks and pulls it out just as you’re on the verge of cumming. Tears stream down your face from overstimulation. “More,” you whine.

He kisses you deeply again before unzipping his pants. His cock is perfect. Thick and veiny, but bigger than any human’s with ridges all down it. You bite your lips, afraid he won’t fit. He shushes you and rubs his cock back and forth over your throbbing clit until it’s slick with your juices.

You’re so wet the tip slips in without much resistance. He works his way in with slow thrusts, praising you for how good you’re taking his cock when it starts to hurt and kissing your neck as one of his tentacles latches onto your clit and starts sucking it. He pulls your legs apart wider, pinning them against the mattress until he’s fully sheathed.

Once inside he’s no longer gentle, biting your neck until it bleeds and pounding into you at a relentless pace as he tells you how good your pussy feels. You want to dig your nails into his back but he has your arms pinned above your head.

You moan and writhe so loud the whole neighborhood can hear as you beg him to fuck you harder until you clench around his thick cock, cumming as he fills you with his seed.

You’re so overwhelmed with pleasure and exhaustion you pass out in his arms. When you awake that morning you don’t know if it was real or not until you realize you can’t sit down. You can almost still feel his big cock inside you all day. As you shower and dress you see written in the fog on the mirror, “I’ll be back tonight ♡”

#monsterfucker confessions

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tickly-tufts · 2 days

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Teased

finally letting miguel be a ler after four whole fics dedicated to wrecking him

ft. lee!peter cuz he’s earned it, and ler!mj cuz i love that for her <3

—

“You paralyzed my husband.”

“He deserved it.”

“Probably, but I’d like an explanation anyway.”

“He was annoying me…” Miguel paused. “…and said I had fangs like a kitty cat.”

It took everything in MJ not to laugh. The mental image was simply too good. Miraculously, she managed to hold back, though she did smile at Miguel’s pout.

“So, you bit him to prove a point?”

“The fangs are no joke,” Miguel defended. Then, sounding just a bit sheepish… “The venom will wear off in an hour.”

Whatever he expected MJ to say next, it wasn’t what she actually asked.

“How much can he feel while he’s stuck like this? Does the venom cause any numbness?”

“He can still feel everything… but this is a punishment. If you’re planning to-“

“That’s not what I mean.” Leaning in with a conspiratorial glint in her eye, MJ made her proposition. “How’d you like to help me get some payback?”

—

Peter’s face lit up when MJ entered the room, and if he’d been able, she knew he would’ve rushed her. Beyond the change in expression, however, he didn’t move a single muscle. Miguel had placed him in the center of their bed, arms laid neatly at his sides. Noticing the pillow under Peter’s head, MJ smiled. What a softie.

“How ya feelin’, Tiger?” She sauntered over, taking a seat right beside her husband.

“Migs is mean,” Peter pouted. “I can’t believe he actually bit me.”

“Well, you did make fun of his fangs. Not your brightest idea,” MJ countered lightly. Peering at his neck, she soon spotted the bite marks. “Want me to kiss it better?” she offered sweetly.

Peter couldn’t nod but his gaze turned hopeful, and MJ leaned down to hover over the marks. Her breath puffed against them, and Peter would’ve shivered, but his muscles simply refused to respond. He smiled when he felt MJ’s lips, soft and warm against his skin. Then she began peppering small kisses along his neck, and he instantly remembered that kisses could tickle.

“Hmph!” Peter stifled the urge to giggle. The situation was already embarrassing enough. At least MJ would be pulling back soon. He just needed to control himself until-

“AH!” he yelped when kissing became nibbling, right where Miguel had bitten him before. “W-Wait, Em- Nohoho!” he cracked when he realized her true intentions.

MJ paused a few seconds later, shifting to whisper in his ear. “Do you remember that time you strung me up in the living room, then decided to tease me until the webs dissolved?”

Oh. Oh no. Peter did remember. He remembered that evening quite fondly, actually. MJ had collapsed into his arms afterwards, thoroughly flushed and swearing revenge. Of course, Peter had laughed it off at the time, doubting she’d ever catch him that compromised. It would be another decade before Miguel found them… and now, he’d served Peter right up for MJ.

“You’ve got to tell me the full story later,” Miguel interjected, done hiding his presence. Peter gawked as MJ patted the other side of the bed, giving Miguel a peck once he was close enough.

“Have you two been plotting against me?!”

“No, I specifically bit you for being a nuisance. The plan was to leave you in here alone… but MJ came up with a better idea.”

MJ beamed at Miguel, then focused her attention back on Peter. “Now, let’s find out where you’re most sensitive…” Peter cringed as his past words were echoed back at him.

Her fingers grazed across his ribs first, nails easily felt even through his shirt. It really wasn’t that bad a spot, but Peter’s breath still hitched at the touch. He had no chance of resistance, mouth curling up as nails dragged down. The fact he couldn’t even try to turn away made him overly aware of his own nerves.

MJ went from his uppermost left rib all the way to the bottom, then wiggled her fingers on the way back up. It was ticklish enough to earn a few snickers, but nothing too dramatic yet. That was until Peter felt a dig on his right, squawking when the tickling crept between his ribs.

“Wait- Wahahait!”

Miguel did not wait, fingers burrowing in without hesitation.

Peter’s mind demanded he move, but all he could physically do was laugh. It only spiraled when MJ switched spots, pinching at his much more ticklish side. The squeal he couldn’t quite suppress didn’t escape either tormentor’s notice.

“Shitshitshit! Thahat’s sohoho unfahahahair!” Peter swore when Miguel’s claws traced down his other side.

Claws and nails… it was a deadly combination. Peter couldn’t say which side was worse. If he’d been able, he would’ve been wriggling from one to the other, indecisive and frenzied. Unfortunately, as things stood, he had no choice but to endure both together. Miguel scratched carefully along his right flank, while MJ raked ruthlessly at his left.

“Mehehean! You’re bohohoth so mehean!”

“Pobrecito,” Miguel replied.

“Oh, babe, you think this is mean? Just you wait,” MJ promised.

A nervous thrill shot straight through him. How wrecked would he be by the end of this? He’d never felt so uniquely defenseless, safe from real harm, but not from this. His sides were bad, but not terrible. What would happen when they found his actual weakness?

All these thoughts were quickly halted by MJ poking around his waist.

“Nonono- Dohohon’t!” Peter giggled uncontrollably.

“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re helpless,” MJ cooed, kneading his love handles. Her hands slipped under the hem of his shirt, bypassing his only means of defense. It tickled so much that Peter’s laughter pitched higher, which didn’t escape Miguel’s notice.

“Que precioso,” Miguel teased, knowing it was a phrase Peter would understand. Right on cue, Peter blushed, and Miguel smirked in satisfaction. It was the exact reaction he’d been seeking, after so many instances of Peter flustering him.

Revenge garnished with extra affection, easily shared among three.

Peter flushed even further when MJ proceeded to lift his shirt. She pushed the hem all the way to his chest, exposing his pale abdomen. Just like that, he was on display for his equally gorgeous wife and boyfriend… and then insecurity reared its head, reminding him of his current physique.

Objectively, it was absurd. They'd both seen his gut before, and he was hardly one for bashfulness nowadays… but still, to have all their attention focused right there, while he couldn’t even cover his face? Apparently that was just a bit too much. Peter didn’t tense up, mainly because he couldn’t, yet his partners still noticed the shift in his mood. Of course they did... observant as ever. He shut his eyes to avoid examining their expressions.

There was a beat, then finally movement, but not from the direction he'd been expecting. Instead of MJ, sweet and familiar... it was Miguel whose lips brushed bare skin first. Peter's eyes shot back open and MJ caught his gaze, understanding reflected in her own. Then she glanced at Miguel, her lips quirking, and Peter’s attention jumped to him.

His heart skipped when he found Miguel staring, intense and analytical. Then it dropped as Miguel inhaled deeply, before blowing the most devastatingly ticklish of raspberries.

Peter screeched, barely calming when Miguel ultimately switched to nibbling. The tips of Miguel’s fangs grazed against his belly, pressing down too gently to break any skin. That was when MJ joined back in, too, peppering tickly kisses wherever Miguel wasn't. Peter giggled, then released a squeak when she poked at the softest part of his stomach.

If Peter had been a luckier man, the pair might've concluded around there. He rarely was, though, so of course they weren't done. MJ's next statement sealed his fate.

"We should lift his arms," she suggested to Miguel, and Peter nearly broke into a cold sweat. He didn't say a word as they guided his limbs. Miguel raised an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic silence.

"Hold on, are you nervous?" he had to ask, curious amusement coloring his tone.

"Wha- No! I'm just... getting tired?" Not entirely false, but not convincing either.

Indirectly calling his bluff, MJ reached out a hand, watching Peter's eyes. He anxiously tracked her slow approach, worsening the suspense for himself. Abruptly, Miguel inched forward, and Peter would've flinched if he'd been able. There was no way to track both of them.

Not that it mattered, once the tickling restarted.

"NOHOT THEHEHERE!" Peter screeched after a swear unbecoming of the Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman. MJ's nails scribbled at his left underarm, while Miguel's thumb massaged his right hollow. “DOHON'T- I CAHAHAN’T!" He wanted to thrash, but he couldn't even manage a twitch. "PLEHEHEHEASE!” It was a maddening experience. Being tied up had nothing on this.

If only he could lower his arms, or twist away, or struggle at all. It didn't help that he was just too damn ticklish in that spot. Miguel and MJ exploited his weakness in distinctly different ways, and thus it didn't take long at all for the contrasting sensations to overwhelm him.

As soon as tears rolled down Peter’s cheeks, they both pulled back to let him breathe.

“Alright there, Tiger?” MJ pet his hair, a hint of worry entering her voice.

“…Could I get some water?”

His partners relaxed, and Miguel nodded. “Be right back.” He returned a minute later with a bottle and towel, first wiping Peter’s face, then sitting him up on the pillows, then carefully lifting the bottle to his lips.

“Thanks,” Peter said after a long drink. “You two are weirdly diabolical.” He glanced at MJ. “Especially you.”

“Just means you have a type,” MJ countered smoothly.

"Hot and sadistic?"

"You said it, not me~"

And then before his brain could stop his mouth-

"Just as ticklish, too." Why would he say that.

Miguel's eyes narrowed dangerously.

“You know, we’ve still got time before the venom wears off.”

“Doesn’t seemed like he’s really learned his lesson, huh?”

Peter squeaked when something soft caressed his ear. MJ had a feather… no, make that two.

“W-When did you get those?!” He watched helplessly as she handed the second feather to Miguel.

“Aww, did you think I came unprepared? I knew you’d talk back enough to earn this~”

And then both feathers were twirling inside his ears, and he could only squeal for mercy.

#also happy ATSVersary to those reading the day im posting!#tickling #a tickly fic #peter b parker #miguel o'hara #mary jane watson #atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #spiderparents #spideysjane

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ehh-balance · 1 day

Text

Gorgug clicked off the turn signal on the hangvan after merging back into traffic. He glanced at the maps app on his crystal again just to be greeted with the same “continue for 88 miles” that was there before they pulled off into the rest stop for a quick break.

“Here ya go,” Kristen said softly, handing Gorgug a sandwich with the wrapper pulled down and wrapped around the bottom half. Gorgug mumbled a thank you, appreciatively taking a massive bite of the snack. He glanced in the rear view mirror, which had been positioned to see the back seat rather than the rear window.

In the third row, Fig had moved from slumped over on Adaine, to slumped against the window with her legs in Adaine’s lap. Adaine, whether she was trancing or napping, hadn’t moved much, just tipping her head from either side to keep her neck from getting too stiff. Fabian was splayed across most of the middle row with Riz tucked into the space between his legs and the seat back. His face was smushed into Fabian’s calf, part of it shiny with Riz’s drool. Gorgug could just spot the fluffy end of Riz’s tail where it was wrapped around Fabian’s arm.

Kristen must’ve seen him checking on everyone else, because she turned around in the passenger seat to peak in the backseat too.

“Man, I’m surprised none of them woke up.” She twisted back around to face forward before pulling a knee up to hug to her chest. Gorgug just hummed back at her, chewing his last bite of sandwich.

“Hey. I’ve got a question,” he said as he checked his blind spot before changing lanes.

“Lay it on me.”

“Remember when we died? Freshman year?” Even mentioning it made Gorgug start to sweat. The dark forest, the blade-like falling leaves. Everything closing in, the tight burn of anger. The lurking fear.

“It was quite a defining moment in my life actually,” Kristen said jokingly. She also placed a gentle hand on his forearm, which made Gorgug suck in a sudden breath. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding it. After hearing his shaky gasp of air, she squeezed his arm more firmly, and said in a gentle tone, “Yeah, I remember.”

Good. That’s good. Or, well, maybe it wasn’t good. Gorgug remembers talking about it with her after it had happened. They had been sitting on the curb across from Basrar’s, waiting for their parent’s to come pick them up. He remembers Kristen talking about how disappointing Helio was and how confused she had been. It had involved a lot of rambling about some pretty cult-y sounding childhood events and a lot of religious guilt. Gorgug had listened and offered unsure input, trying to steer her gently to the idea that maybe the way she was taught to worship wasn’t the only way. In turn, she had listened to him talk about the dark forest, and Mr. Gibbins, and the anger that had consumed the guidance counselor and the fear that had consumed Gorgug. She had healed him arms where his finger nails had cut into his skin from gripping them so tightly in his anxiety.

Gorgug tried to pull himself out of the memory. He had a goal here.

“I don’t like where I went.” Gorgug said firmly. Kristen squeezed his arm again, reaching further up his arm to tug on one of his friendship bracelets. The tug made him realize how tightly he had been clutching the steering wheel and he tried to relax his stiff fingers.

“I know. But hey, Gorthalax said it was a mistake. It shouldn’t happen like that again,” Kristen reassured. And while Gorgug had been telling himself that since Gorthalax had told him, he still didn’t know what that meant. Where he would actually end up when he finally died for good.

“At the end of everything with Porter and Ankarna. Lucy came back, and she told you that she had been in your- in Cassandra’s afterlife.” Gorgug took another breath, it felt like more air was entering his lungs now, “I want that. I want to know where I’m going, and I want it to be there.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Gorgug paused. He thought there would be more. “Don’t I have to like. Get some paladin or cleric levels or something? Devote myself to Cassandra?”

Kristen tugged on another of his friendship bracelets this time, the blue and purple one she had made him. “If you want to be there, you’ll be there dude. I’ll make sure. Shoot off a prayer to Cassandra every once in a while if you feel like it. But if you need a hand to hold in the dark, we’ll be there. Whenever you need it.”

Gorgug suddenly felt like he could cry. He hadn’t realized how much he still worried about where he would end up when he died. Being downed so much in the fight against Porter had really kickstarted his stress about it again. He felt like he had in freshman year, right after he died, trying to explain to people how he thought he went to hell. How no one else seemed to grasp the gravity of how intense his emotions were. How no one listened to him, or took him seriously. Or if they did, like his parents, there wasn’t anything they could do. But now one of his best friends finally laid his fears to rest. He had a heaven to go to that would be peaceful, and would likely house a few of his other friends.

Gorgug watched as the sun finally finished setting, the darkness a relief on his straining eyes. A chill quickly settled in, but Gorgug didn’t move to turn on the heat in the car. The cold that the twilight brought felt familiar and comforting and reminded him of Kristen’s magic when she healed him during battles. He finally felt the tension ease from his shoulders and jaw.

“Thank you. I don’t think I realized how much stress that was causing me.” Gorgug glanced at Kristen and saw her smiling fondly back at him.

“Hey man, anytime. Give unto me all your stress tokens, and I shall wipe them clean. So it is spoken, so it shall be. These are the words of Saint Applebees,” Her smile turned slightly feral, baring more teeth and she cackled at herself. Gorgug snorted back at her, the relief of stress and the ease of tension from Kristen catching him off guard.

“I don’t think I want to know what’s going on up there,” Adaine mumbled from the third row, rubbing at her eyes with her glasses pushed up to her forehead.

“I do!” Fig yelled, not at all sounding like she had just woken up from an hour long nap.

“If it involves more yelling, I do not want to hear about it,” Fabian mumbled, while shifting his eye patch to cover his one good eye, even though it was dark out now. He petulantly wrapped his arms around his head to cover his ears. Riz patted his calf in sympathy, while also wiping his drool up with a sleight of hand.

“You still good driving Gorgug? I can tap in whenever now that I’ve got some sleep in me.” Riz offered as he sat up.

“I’m okay. Maybe when we pull off at the next rest stop,” Gorgug replied. He felt Kristen squeeze his arm, from where she still had a grip on it, and the two shared a smile. Yeah, he was okay.

#d20 fantasy high #fhjy spoilers #maybe?#listen #i love all the bad kid dynamics and want to write them all #gorgug thistlespring #kristen applebees #the bad kids #writing #dimension 20

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poppy-metal · 1 hour

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i wanna have a messy ass break up with college patrick, like be so off and on and off and on, and one day after your latest break up that got particularly loud and messy you get so sick of him you just want to hurt him. so you track down art in the cafeteria. you pull him away from his friends and say into his ear “me and patrick are over, for real this time. let’s go to your dorm and you can fuck me right now.” whether you’re really over or not, art couldn’t care less. he nods gormlessly and you drag him by his wrist up to his the dorm he shares with patrick and you fuck the everloving shit out of art all over their room. you’re so aggressive with everything but he fucking eats it up, matches your energy and doubles it until it looks more like cannibalism than intercourse. you kiss with teeth, you throat his dick so far you make yourself splutter and choke and then you go back in for more, he eats your pussy so nasty that he has to use all his upper body strength to keep you from twitching away from from him. you tell him “hurt me,” words you never said to patrick. you take a secret pleasure in giving art privileges in one day that patrick never got over the months you were together. you give them to art so freely because he would never ask, would never think to hurt you, which makes you want it all the more. but maybe the pleasure isn’t so secret, because art knows everything about your sex life with patrick. everything. he knows you were never so wild with patrick. so he takes secret pleasure in defiling you in ways patrick could only wank about. you fuck until the room stinks and the duvet cover has come off and the sheets pinged off the corner of the bed and your hair is a birds nest and you leave with a limp because he fucked you so good. he wanted it for so long and the second you gave it to him he didn’t know how to act, didn’t know what the word restraint even meant. patrick’s gonna be pissed. who gives a fuck

oh shit.

i imagine you only dig the knife this deep because patrick said some truly unforgivable shit - provoked by your own nasty remarks but still, he knew about your insecurities, knew it and still said "you think you have anything i cant get from some other tight pussied freshman?" he'd said it to wound and it had. cut so deep, deeper than anything he'd ever said before, the need to lash out, to hurt the way he'd hurt you was too strong.

its not like his dynamic with art isn't easy to prey on either. you've seen the way art looks at you. you've talked about it with patrick, even giggled about it, used it in foreplay with him - because unlike you, the thrill of a little competition got him hard as a fucking rock. but he would never be okay with you actually doing it, of art one upping him without his say so or input. and art was practically dying for an excuse to betray patrick. to stab him in the back and knock him down a peg. his resentment towards patrick was obvious to you - as prominent as his desire for you was.

so yeah, its easy to seduce him. and the thing is, art knows hes being used. he knows you know how he feels about you - and he knows you're doing this for revenge. he knows somehow, in a fucked up way, hes still not your first chocie, patrick is. so he fucks you like he hates you - and he lavishes in how that makes your pussy strangle his cock. he takes what he can get and he makes the most of it, hes going to imprint himself into your memory. going to dig his nails into your skin and leave marks, bite so hard the imprint of his teeth lingers, reshape your cunt to the mold of his dick - his name spilling from your lips. his cum dripping from your well used cunt. "tell me you love this. tell me you want me to cum inside you - tell me."

you tell him all sorts of things. its easy to get you babbling with a cock inside you, is the thing. you tell him you've always wanted him, you tell him you'll be with him after this, that you want him, more than patrick, and maybe you mean some of it, maybe you dont. its hard to tell. you leave him when he falls asleep.

you dont stay around to watch the fallout happen. you leave with the satisfaction of a good fuck, a life altering one, and the bitter sting of knowing you cant come back from this. that the hatred you've sewn from this act will be too deep, that art and patrick will never be the same, and neither will you.

you dont know if you want patrick to confront you. you dont know if you want him to hate you and get in your face for this or if you wanted this to sever any and all ties with him, finally. and you dont know if you feel bad for lying to art, feeding him lies so he'd fuck you harder, painting a pretty picture for him - maybe you wanted to hurt him too, as an extension of patrick. maybe you just got a little too drunk on power. on the notion you were important enough to ruin a lifelong friendship.

patrick could fuck whoever he wanted, but he'd never find a girl who'd fuck up his life like you had. and that made you smile.

#ask #frens <3 #SUPPORTS WOMENS WRONGS ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

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