#though if they ever decide to do something more with it it would so fucking cool

[lordprettyflackotara]

if u think i’m pretty || chris sturniolo

SMUT. 18+. Minors DNI. tw: hate fucking. lots of it. bickering while fucking? idk you get the gist. finally got around to writing about chris. can you believe i scrapped like 5 fics? 🥴 yeah me either! also, sequel with matt if yall want it ;)

“Christopher fucking Sturniolo!”

Your words were laced with venom, the staircase rumbling beneath you as you stomped upstairs. Faintly you could hear Matt call out for you, your mind too filled with rage to hear him properly.

Pornographic moans flooded your eardrums as you reached Chris’s room, your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. Your closed fist rattled his door, the dramatic moans coming to a screeching halt.

“Open the fucking door dickwad!” You screamed. Impatiently you tapped your foot, deciding he was taking too long. You grabbed the door handle, (surprised to find it unlocked), and swung the door open.

It was almost comical watching Chris and a girl you didn’t know scramble to get themselves dressed.

“What the fuck are you doing in here? Get the fuck out! Haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” Chris spat, shoving his gray sweatpants on. For a brief moment you felt bad for the girl, her waterline filling with tears. She was just one of many you had seen this week. You grabbed a shirt you presumed to be hers, handing it to her. You took a deep breath, containing your anger as you looked at her.

“Please get dressed and for the love of God, find someone better to fuck,” You sighed. The blonde was gone in a flash, practically sprinting out of Chris’s room. You crossed your arms, shooting lasers out of your eyes as you glared at the brunette across from you. Oh, only if looks could kill.

“I’m not believing my phone magically teleported into the dishwasher of all places,” You snarled. Your phone had been missing for six hours straight, your iphones location still saying it was at the triplets house. You had dragged Matt and Nick all around their house, searching from the ceiling to the floor. When you had finally accepted defeat, you had opened the dishwasher to grab a bowl to make a snack.

And to your displeasure, your phone was sopping wet, sitting in plain sight on the rack.

“You have zero proof I did that, literally zero,” Chris argued. Your eyes briefly flickered to his exposed chest, the amount of skin throwing you off. You shook your head, showing Chris your ruined phone. “Really? Because I can’t recall the last time you did dishes but you magically did them last night,” You snapped. Chris shrugged nonchalantly, a cocky smirk creeping across his lips.

“What can I say? I figured i’d help out the household,”

That’s it.

You chucked your phone at him, the brunette dodging the attack by seconds. It was ruined away, even the rice method was unable to save your phone. It smacked against the wall, the sound making Chris jump. “Maybe your phone wouldn’t be ruined if you weren’t having very LOUD phone sex with your boyfriend!” Chris yelled. You threw your hands up in the air, completely dumbfounded. “What are you talking about? Why would I ever-” You began arguing, before it clicked.

You weren’t having phone sex with anyone, that was for sure. But you stayed over at the Sturniolo household frequently, to the point where you were there more often than you were home. As much as Chris drove you insane, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. The concept of the attraction being forbidden, soured by years and years of bickering, did something inside of you.

You could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, even though you didn’t want it to. Chris snickered at your loss of words, shooting you a genuine smile. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” He teased. In a swift motion you dashed across the room, your palm connecting with his cheek. Your tension with Chris had never gone beyond yelling. He had never crawled under your skin so much before, embarrassment seeping over you as you thought about the whole house hearing what he said.

A long pause silenced the room, the sound of the slap echoing through out your ears. Chris took a moment to process what you had just done, before his sharp gaze meant yours. His hand flew to your throat, gripping the sides as he threw you against the nearest wall. The air was knocked out of your lungs, your body in fight or flight mode. He easily towered over you, his sharp blue eyes filled with rage.

“You’re such a fucking whore,” Chris grumbled. He squeezed the sides of your neck harder, a whimper escaping your lips. His grip loosened, his attention fully dedicated to the sound you had made. The brunette tilted his head to the side curiously, as if he hadn’t believed what he just heard. “Did you just whimper?” He questioned. You shook your head no, Chris’s knee spreading your legs apart. Testing the waters, he brought his face closer to yours.

“You know, your little stunt prevented me from finishing earlier. Perhaps you’d like to help me out,” Chris purred, the glint of lust in your eyes telling him everything he needed to know. You rolled your eyes, your heart beginning to race as his body pressed against yours. “If you’re going to kiss me get on with it before I change my mind,” You said plainly. Chris’s grip on your throat tightened, your airway becoming restricted.

“You’ve always been a mouthy one,” He muttered, roughly bringing his lips to yours.

Chris hated how good you tasted, how good you smelled. He hated how your skin always looked so soft, your lips so plump. He despised how confident you were, always charging into everything in your life head first. What Chris actually liked, was that you challenged him. He knew that his infatuation with you wasn’t actually feelings, just raw and untamed lust. But fuck, with your lips against his, it made him want to change his mind.

The two of you clawed off each other’s clothes, discarding the clothing to the floor. Chris’s tongue swiped across your lower lip, before sliding inside. His kisses were rough and sloppy, your body addicted to the electricity he made run down your spine. You pushed him harshly against the bed, his back hitting the soft mattress underneath him.

You straddled him quickly, attempting to take control of the situation. Ever so slowly you grinded your wet cunt against his exposed shaft, a groan escaping his lips. Chris cockily put his hands behind his head, admiring you. “Go ahead, get yourself off just by grinding on me. You can do it pretty girl,” Chris instructed. You felt heat dash across your cheeks at the sound of his praise, your hips moving seemingly on their own.

Curses left your lips as you threw your head back. “Making me get myself off since you can’t do it? Figures,” You managed to say, your movements becoming more desperate. Chris leaned forward on his elbows, watching your cunt slide up and down his shift. “I’d watch your words ma, i’ll overstimulate you until you’re nothing but a cock craving whore,” Chris warned. His warning felt real, the threat in it seeking genuinely true. Even if you didn’t want to believe it.

Chris bit his bottom lip as you shamelessly grinded against him, every little movement providing pleasure to your clit. “You really think i’d fuck as many girls as I do if I couldn’t make them cum? I thought you were supposed to be smart,” Chris said coldly, mockingly tilting his head to the side. Your gaze landed back on the man beneath you, ignoring his cock in between your folds. “Yeah? I thought I was supposed to be overstimulated by now. What happened to that?” You challenged.

He was quick to change positions, your back landing against the mattress before you could think. He roughly spread your thighs apart, shoving two fingers into your cunt. A gasp of surprise was ripped from your throat, his spare hand resuming its place as your personal collar. Chris’s name spilled off of your lips as his fingers curled inside of you, his name becoming a sinful mantra. “What happened? Not so cocky now are we?” Chris taunted, watching you fall apart on his fingers.

The sight of you was enough to make his cock throb, his body craving attention. Chris remained focused, determined to corrupt you. “Open your fucking mouth slut,” Chris ordered. You so without a second thought, flattening your tongue across your bottom lip. He gripped your face harshly, leaning over and spitting into your mouth. “Swallow it,” He growled, watching you intently. You did as you were told, swallowing his saliva. You felt humiliated as it slid down your throat, the feeling euphoric.

“Thats a good girl, now why don’t you cum on my fingers for me? Hmm?” Chris asked. His words of praise made the rope inside of you snap, your orgasm washing over you without warning. Your vision went white, your thighs trembling as Chris removed his fingers from your aching cunt. You watched as he sucked them clean, maintaining eye contact with you as he did so.

Still coming down from your high, you put every last bit of energy into rolling your eyes. “Are you going to fuck me or just stare?” You asked. Chris’s cocky smile fell, replaced with a frown. “Nothings ever good enough for you, is it?” He replied, crawling on top of you. He brushed the tip of his cock up and down your folds teasingly, enjoying hearing you audibly whine for him. “Why’d you destroy my phone?” You asked, your coherent thoughts interrupted by him shoving himself inside of you.

You both moaned in unison, the unholy sounds vibrating off of the walls. “Why’d you decide to have phone sex in my house?” Chris gritted out, sliding himself further into you. He had more girth than you expected, your walls struggling to accommodate his size. “I asked you first dipshit,” You spat, fighting back a groan as he slid in further. Chris could feel your walls spasming around his cock, the sensation enough to make him cum right then and there. But he knew you’d never let him live it down.

“Yeah? Well I asked you second,” Chris replied, bottoming out inside of you. The tip of his shaft brushed against your g spot, the slightest movement of his hips making you whimper. “If you must know I wasn’t having phone sex, dumbass,” You said honestly. Chris pulled his hips back at a teasing rate, entertaining the argument. “Yeah? So what were you doing?” He questioned, doubting what you were saying. His hips bucked back into yours, hitting your g spot purposefully slow. He was drawing his thrust out, enjoying the sight of you squirming beneath him.

“I-I was thinking of you, alright? Now are you going to fuck me or what?” You rambled, embarrassed by your confession. Chris paused for a moment, soaking in your words. He leaned forward, his breath hot against your ear. “Is that so? Well, I destroyed your phone because I got jealous. You belong under me, just like this, taking my cock,” Chris purred, ignoring the embarrassment of his own confession. He pulled back slightly, allowing the two of you to make eye contact.

Out of breath and desperate, both of you panted as you stared into each other’s eyes. “Well, in that case, you better get on with it,” You said weakly. The same cocky smile that you hated plastered across his lips, his hips bucking into yours quickly. Your nails dug into his back as his hips continued to slam into yours, his cock buried inside of your cunt. Chris couldn’t hold back his own groans, your walls milking his cock dry.

With glazed eyes he met your gaze, relishing in the sound of your groans, chanting his name. “Open your mouth for me,” He ordered, his cock abusing your cervix. Chris enjoyed that you didn’t hesitate, obeying him without a second thought. He put two fingers into your mouth, shoving them as far back as he could. “Now fucking suck them slut,” He growled. With each degrading word you squeezed him harder, your body snitching on your hidden desire.

“You look so pretty like this, when you aren’t yapping that mouth of yours,” He huffed. A painful whine came from his lips, your nails purposefully digging deeper into his back. You pathetically bobbed your head up and down on his fingers, concealing your smirk as you heard him in audible pain. Chris slithered his spare hand down to your cunt, drawing fast and sloppy circles around your clit.

“Go on, cum for me. Cum on my cock like the good girl you are for me,” Chris panted. The extra sensation was enough to make you throw your head back, Chris’s fingers still lodged in your mouth. Your warning of your orgasm was muffled, your thighs shaking violently under him. The sight was going to be burned into Chris’s memory forever, the feeling of your cunt spasming around him giving him an undeniable ego boost. He fucked you through your orgasm, becoming preoccupied with chasing his own.

His fingers roughly grabbed your waist, fucking you rougher. “Shit, i’m gonna cum,” He admitted. Chris watched, mesmerized as his cock slid in and out of your cunt. “Where do you want it?” He asked, his hips beginning to stutter. You grabbed him by his throat, dragging him towards you. You put your mouth next to his ear, smirking as you told him, “Inside of me.”

You filthy fuck. For the first time your name fell from Chris’s lips as he came, his warm seed flooding your cunt. In unison you both tried to catch your breath, Chris carefully slipping out of you. The room was silent, besides desperate breathing, a knock came from Chris’s door.

“Yeah?”

“Your uh, doordash is here dude,” Matt said awkwardly. You could hear him place a bag in front of his bedroom door. “Thanks,” Chris replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Hey Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time maybe fuck a little quieter, Nicks pretty pissed.”

You exchanged glances with Chris, watching as he shoved on a shirt.

“You heard him, be quiet next time,”

“Next time? There won’t be a next time. Mr.I lasted thirty seconds.”

The sound of you two bickering made Matt roll his eyes, causing him to walk away. He wondered if you both would ever get married, or if you both would hate fuck forever. He shrugged at the idea, heading back downstairs. All Matt knew for sure, was that your moans made him cum the hardest he ever had. And that, was enough for him.

#chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x y/n #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut

[dreaming-of-lu]

cause it's me birfday eue decided to spoil myself with the soulmates au. A special surprise at the end 👀

Time

Normally, one would scream at the sight of a vast, wide open field of grass rather than their room being the first sight to see when waking up,

"Did I fucking die?" instead was the first thing that came out of your mouth. The wind was cool against your skin, lightly ruffling your bed mess hair. Miles around was knee high grass, no trees or civilization around. Just the green grass of mother earth and the blue skies with clouds that looked straight out of Ghibli movie.

"I died, didn't I?"

"I wouldn't necessarily say that-" a short yelp left your lips at the sudden voice appearing next to your ear. You scrambled back in shock, stumbling over yourself to get away from the mysterious, possibly stranger danger. Your eyes landed on the man that somehow happened to quietly sneak up on you, your words caught in your throat at the sight of him.

Long pointy ears, shoulder-length blonde hair, red and blue markings that framed his face, low brows lightly furrowed and...his right eye is shut due to a scar overlining it. Though his remaining eye made your breath hitched due to how blue it was,

"Yeah, I'm dead."

A soft snort left him before clearing his throat, "I promise you aren't, what is your name?"

"I-," you made a face at him, "why should I trust you?"

He lift his hand, pinching his arm that made your own sting, "Ow!"

"Because I am your soulmate."

First

The night seemed endless due to how long it was dragging on. With the ailed fragments of sleep begging for him to close his eyes, yet they held wide open to the stars of the night.

'Can't sleep, handsome?' their voice was like warm water drifting around him in a bath after a long day of hard work. A pleased, tired sigh left his lips, making his muscles eased from the tension his body felt. He weakly smiles to himself,

'Not without you by my side, that is.' The light snort that they gave him had his smile become more genuine, and heart pounding against his chest. The soft flush of heat burned his cheeks and neck as they softly laughed at his comment,

'Ever so the heartbreaker, my love,' they lightly teased.

'Maybe to others,' he huffs, 'though to you, my sweet, I shall carry it carefully as if it's a precious gem throughout the land, even when I meet you. It'll still be beside me.'

It's suddenly quiet, causing him to worry and flustered that he might've said something wrong to them. Only to hear a soft sniffle, 'That's...that's the sweetest, sappiest thing any one had said to me. You're too cute.'

His ears wiggled in delight. Goddesses, he felt like a school girl due to how giddy and mushy he felt, 'I'll shower you in them till you melt in them, my heart.'

They tearfully laughed, 'Okay, sap bucket, try and get some sleep, hmm?'

'Stay with me until I do?'

'Always, my darling.'

Drac

"Why this?" You blinked up from your book at the platinum blonde that took his place next to you on the sofa in the parlor room. He wasn't wearing the normal day to day werewolf shawl, instead, fortaking the shawl and adventuring attire to comfortable clothes to lounge around in. It seemed Aryll was put to sleep easily, since her moans and groans of pain used to distill the air of the house they both reside in.

The chain soft snores in the other room was definitely one to be jealous of due to how easily they knocked out. Though, you can't bring yourself to be angry too much, since the beds were soft enough to ease any ailments they might've felt throughout the day.

You shut the book, placing it aside on the table next to the sofa before turning your attention to him, "why what? did something happen?"

He gives you a flat look, grumbling lightly as he rolled his left sleeve to reveal dark ink marked upon his pale skin. He nods his head to it, "we share the same marks."

You stared wide eyed at the ink that lined his thick forearm; vines rolled around in swirls, flowers with fairies splattered here and there. The same picture that lined your own,

"I-I uhm-"

"While I don't mind the pretty ink, however, getting side eyed for it is not one that I want to deal with," He raised a brow at the shock silence that overcame your form.

"I...I think we're...yanno...soulmates?" you give him a sheepish look, grimacing when his stare hardens.

"...Well, that explains it," he leans backwards in the seat, "...could've chose a different place for it though."

"Asshole," you puffed, "I wanted something pretty to make me feel a little more confident and-"

You squeaked when his hand cupped your chin, he carefully maneuver you in laying position. His other hand came right down next to your head as his body hovered over you, he lowered his face, letting his lips ghost against yours. Gosh, was his eyes always this intense?

He smirked, "is this your way of saying we're married?"

"...you ass."

He snickers.

#.bea's writing #lu x reader #linked universe x reader #link x reader #lu time x reader #lu first x reader #linksona x reader #linksona drac x reader #soulmates au

[ellieslaces]

KISSING LESSONS.

featuring: hazel callahan x fem!cheerleader!reader

synopsis: Hazel’s worst decision was to join her friend’s fight club, until she met you. or, really got to know you, she knew you, you just didn’t know her. she never thought a cheerleader, much less one of the prettiest girls in the school, would ever pay attention to her. until you did.

content warnings: harsh language; mentions of violence; internalized homophobia; light smut; kissing (wlw); so much loser lesbianism; some homophobic slang (faggot, munch)

notes: mentions of violence (duh, it’s lesbian fight club); mentions of reader being bisexual (more toward women tho); homophobic slang (faggot, munch, etc) ; there is no real smut in this as i do not write explicit content containing minors.

word count: 3.13k

chloe talks: watched bottoms and then hyperfixated on Hazel for two weeks before I decided to write this. God, I need her so bad. Chloe has a type doesn’t she? (soft mascs make me hhnngg). hazels so fucking cute I need her to kiss me ok bye. <3 (also, I hate the way this turned out, I’m so sorry it’s terrible)

now playing: kissing lessons ; lucy dacus

Fight Club — a popular 1990’s film, that’s all those two words had ever meant to you. You’d never even seen the film, you just knew it was fucking gay, despite it not actually being about the hot topic of homosexuality amongst young men (or women, in your case). But, I digress.

It had been your friends, Isabel and Brittany, who managed to get your ass to attend your school’s resident Fight Club. A women’s Fight Club. How fucking gay. Oh well, it would teach you how to defend yourself properly. Which, in this day and age — or any day and age of we’re honest — is horribly necessary.

It shouldn’t be, but knowing how to beat the shit out of a grown man is something you should know how to do. Self defense isn’t a topic to be taken lightly, and it seemed PJ and Josie knew this.

PJ and Josie — or faggot #1 and faggot #2 as the school knew more endearingly — where the school’s resident ‘ugly and untalented gays’, as Jeff and his little crew liked to say. Really, you suspected they were all just pissed because the girls knew their way around a pussy better than any of them did. They wouldn’t know the clit if it slapped them in the face.

It had been about two weeks into the girls’ club that Isabel and Britany attended for the first time. They showed up to cheer practice the following day with busted lips and bruised faces. At first, you hadn’t known what happened. Maybe Jeff’s dramatics had finally gotten the better of him. But no, they had willingly gotten beaten up for the sake of learning how to better throw a punch.

Finally, after hours upon hours of begging and pleading, Britany and Isabel got you to attend a meeting. You had walked in, nerves wrecking your body as you trailed unsurely behind the two girls you considered your best friends. You trusted them, they wouldn’t let something bad happen.

You had planned to spend your first meeting simply observing, but PJ tried so hard to convince you to join in. She almost even pushed you into the fucking ring. When you finally conceded, you were face to face with Hazel Callahan.

You knew of her, but you didn’t know her. You’d passed her a few times in the hall, you had a science class with her. Jeff said she was another one of those ‘loud mouth munches’ — to which you nearly punched him square in the nose had he not been Isabel’s boyfriend and a complete moron.

Hazel seemed nice, she’d smiled in your direction when you walked into the gym. It was a nice gesture, no matter the awkward air it held. You felt sort of bad for putting her in the situation she was in, even though it was PJ’s fault that she now had to fight you.

You stood awkwardly, fists raised in a defensive position, eyes on Hazel as she stood in front of you. She smiled again, still awkward as it had been when you walked in. You were set on not getting the shit beat out of you.

As soon as PJ’s whistle sounded, you barely gave Hazel a chance to move. She’d shifted on her feet, sending a spark of fear through you, causing you to send a punch straight to her face. You’d gasped, watching her face scrunch up as her own hands flew up to cup her nose.

“Oh my God, I’m so fucking sorry.” You cried, stepping forward, ignoring the claps and cheers falling obnoxiously from PJ’s lips.

Hazel let out a choked laugh, brows raised as she held her nose. “No uh, nice hit. Fuck, that was a good one.” She blinked rapidly, momentarily lowering her hands.

You let out a small squeak as you saw that her nose was indeed bleeding. “Shit, your nose.” You stepped forward again, trying to find something to stop the bleeding. But of course, there wasn’t anything you had on you.

“Alright, Hazel’s fine. Let’s move on.” PJ droned, giving her whistle another sharp blow — she really abused her whistle privileges, you thought as you ushered Hazel toward the bleachers.

Hazel gave a thumbs up — her hand covered in blood that dripped from her nose — as she walked toward the bleachers. No one seemed to notice other than you as you walked with her. You felt so bad, so terrible because now this girl was bleeding because of you.

“I’m sorry,” you weakly apologized again, sitting in front of her on the bleachers, looking frantically around for something to give her to stop the bleeding.

“It’s okay, I’m okay.” Hazel shook her head, trying to convince you she was fine. Even though you both knew she wasn’t.

“Uh fuck, there isn’t anything — don’t do that.” You’d cut yourself off quick, voice deadpanned.

Hazel paused, her head half leaning backward as she looked over in your direction. Her ringed fingers pinched the bridge of her nose — it seemed she’d had the idea to lean her head back to stop the bleeding.

“Lean your head forward, not backward. If you go backwards, the blood could go into your lungs. Go forward and let it drip out.” You instructed, pulling her hand down gently by her wrist, moving to take off your cardigan so she could hold it below her face to catch the blood as it dripped.

“How do you know that?” Hazel questioned, brows pulled in a frown as she leaned her face forward so the blood could freely drip from her nose onto the bundle of fabric in her hands.

“I had to get a certificate to be able to babysit.” You shrugged, moving the strands of hair from her face without thinking about it. When you’d realized what you’d done, you froze, dropping your hand in embarrassment, muttering a sad ‘sorry’ again.

Hazel shook her head, not responding verbally to your millionth apology. Your cheeks warmed, suddenly so embarrassed for an entirely different reason. Not just for punching Hazel square in the nose, but you’d managed to embarrass yourself by noticing just how pretty she was.

Hazel sat on the bottom row of the bleachers in the gym, watching the rest of the group fight each other in turns, different girls winning. Some had busted lips, others a myriad of bruises spattered across their faces.

You took the time to notice just how pretty Hazel was — a sharp jawline that would make Jeff jealous, brunette hair that mussed in just the right way and looked so goddamn soft, her nose that was long and straight save for the small bump in the bridge that made your throat constrict. God, she really was a sight. How hadn’t you noticed sooner?

Maybe it was the fact that Hazel wasn’t in your social circle. You were a cheerleader, friends with Isabel and Britany, the focus of stares. Hazel was a loser — in the kindest and most endearing way — someone who wasn’t popular. Someone who had hardly any friends. And despite the fact that today was maybe the third time in your entire life you’d ever spoken to her, you wanted to be one of her friends.

A quick, sharp quip of PJ’s whistle brought you back to the present, her loud voice announcing the day’s session was over. You blinked, looking away from Hazel. Who somehow didn’t seem to notice you’d just spent the past five or so minutes just studying her face.

She turned to you, eyes apologetic as she held out your crumpled cardigan in her hands. “It’s really bloody, sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. You can keep it,” you shook your head, holding out your hand. It was only after the words came out of your mouth that realized how stupid that sounded. “I mean, it’s just, you don’t have to give it back. I don’t like it that much anyways. And it’ll probably stain. That sounds bad, I’m sorry.”

Hazel smiled a little at your words that seemed to stumble out of your mouth. You regretted every single one of them. You moved to take the cardigan anyway, acting as if you hadn’t told her to just keep it. But she pulled it back.

“I’ll wash it.” She said simply, standing. There were specks and smears of dried blood on and below her nose. You felt another pang of guilt then, seeing that your punch would definitely cause a bruise across her nose.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” You shook your head, standing as well. Isabel and Britany stood a few feet away, clearly waiting for you to come over. You didn’t want to though, for some reason.

“It’s fine. I’ll see you at the next meeting right?” Hazel asked, not relenting and continuing to hold the cardigan in her hands as she started to back away.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” You shrugged, somewhat embarrassed. You didn’t really want to come back. Not since you’d punched Hazel and made her bleed on your first meeting. But, maybe this would be a good incentive to come back. To see her.

“Cool,” Hazel grinned, nodding in your direction before she walked toward where PJ and Josie stood. You remained sentient for a moment, hands folded in front of your lap as you watched Hazel.

“Jesus, you hit hard.” Isabel’s voice rang in your ears as she and Britany approached, the latter’s eyes wide as she looked at your hand.

“Might want to wash your hands,” the girl motioned to your dominant hand — the knuckles were spotted in blood from where you’d punched Hazel and blood had immediately started to pour from her nose.

Your eyes latched onto the specks of blood on your knuckles, brows creased as you stared. Bright, rusty red adorned the skin of your knuckles, bits of Hazel Callahan’s DNA there. It was strange, but it made you smile.

The attendance of the fight club had steadily grown — girls coming to the gym after school to brush up on their combat skills. All in preparation for the upcoming football game against Huntington. The fear ever since one girl had gotten attacked by one of the boys and word had gotten around about it.

So, attendance had spiked, the ‘female solidarity’ — as PJ liked to call it — had risen in the school, even the girls were kinder and nicer to one another. And your mind was muddled with constant pictures and thoughts of Hazel Callahan.

It was confusing — you’d never felt such a strong connection to someone you hardly knew. Hazel was as much a mystery to you as the rest of the ‘ugly, untalented gays’. Meaning she was a huge fucking mystery. Sure, you were vaguely aware that her parents had divorced, and that the girl mostly kept in the background in school. But other than that, Hazel was purely mysterious to you. And you found yourself wanting to know more.

To remedy thhs, you continued to attend fight club, naturally. Yes, you shared a class or two with the girl, but nowhere else did you have the chance to actually interact with her. To converse with her, hear her voice, see her smile. God, what a loser you were.

It wasn’t until two weeks later that you’d come to realize how disgustingly and embarrassingly obvious your infatuation with Hazel was. And what made it worse — it was PJ who brought it to your attention.

“Yo!” PJ’s obnoxious voice rang through the gym as you stood in the circle with the rest of the girls, watching Silvia and Brittany spar, your name on the girl’s lips as she spoke. “Quick eye-fucking Hazel and pay attention! Huntington is like, two weeks away.”

Your cheeks flamed a bright red as you sunk into yourself, shoulders curling in. God, you wanted a chance at PJ in that ring to strangle the fuck out of her for that. Your eyes quickly cut over to where Hazel stood — her own cheeks dusted with light pink as she avoided your gaze.

Great, now she probably wouldn’t talk to you at all. Fuck PJ and her obnoxious, loud mouth. Your embarrassment was not short lived as the fight club went on. You couldn’t look in Hazel’s direction at all as you waited out the meeting until its end so you could retreat with your tail between your legs and never show your face in this gym again.

It was as you shouldered your backpack, heart still racing, stomach still uneasy with embarrassment that you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned, eyes going wide as you were face to face with Hazel. Your eyes trailed down to a bundle of fabric in her hands.

“Sorry it took so long, but uh, I got the blood out.” She held out what turned out to be your cardigan. The cardigan that you’d leant her two weeks ago when you’d punched her too hard.

“Um, you didn’t have to do that.” You said, offering a sheepish smile as she held out the cardigan. You gingerly took it, eyes locked on Hazel’s face. As you grabbed it, you swore you could feel a spark when your fingers brushed against hers. A fucking spark — cliche but true.

It was silent between you two for a moment before Hazel shook her head, jutting her thumb over her shoulder. “Sorry about PJ. Things kind of come out of her mouth without her brain processing first.”

Yikes, Hazel meant the ‘eye-fucking’ comment. You offered a small, horribly obvious chuckle. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.”

There was another long stretch of silence between you and Hazel, your lips pulled to the side as you held the folded — she’d fucking folded it, Jesus she was adorable — cardigan in your hands. It was strange, but not too uncomfortable. Like that stupid thing from Pulp Fiction, the right person is someone that silence isn’t awkward with.

“I wasn’t eye-fucking you.” You blurted. Great, you made it awkward again. A small groan fell from your lips, head dropping as you closed your eyes with a frown. You shook your head. “Sorry, I dunno what’s wrong with me today.”

“PJ’s just jealous.” Hazel offered with a small laugh. How could one solidarity laugh sound so beautiful?

“Of what?” You asked gingerly, looking up to meet her eyes. For some reason, you were weary of her answer.

“That you aren’t giving her attention. Besides, I don’t think she’d know what to do with your attention anyway, you’re so pretty.” She said it not as an insult to PJ — or at least it didn’t sound like it — but more as an obvious fact. And you were stunned because Hazel had just called you pretty.

You were at a loss. A true loss. How the hell were you supposed to respond to that? So, like an idiot, you just stared at her blankly, eyes confused and wide.

Her own eyes went wide, brows furrowed as a worried look crossed her features. “Shit, was that too much? Too much. Fuck.” Her voice lowered as she cursed, brows knit together.

“No! Not too much, I just… I just didn’t think you thought I was pretty too.” You shrugged, quick to correct her. Quick to reassure that you were flattered and not weirded out.

“I mean yeah, of course I do.” Hazel nodded, her voice soft, words intentional like her statement was an obvious fact.

A smile spread across your face, cheeks warm again. You weren’t sure why, but you suddenly felt so much about Hazel. You’d never had a crush on a girl before. It was new and strange, but you definitely thought this was a crush.

“Thanks.” You whispered, eyes darting down to the cardigan in your hands for a moment before going back to looking up at Hazel. “For the compliment, and bringing back my cardigan. You didn’t have to wash it.”

“It’s fine, I wanted to. It’s a nice cardigan.” Hazel shrugged. It seemed she was at a loss for what to say around you too.

The gym was near empty by now — Josie and PJ chattering away in the far corner, and Isabel and Brittany waiting for you (but not paying attention to anyone but themselves) by the gym doors a few feet away.

So, due to the empty state of the gym and the disgustingly thick tension between you and Hazel, you stepped forward, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to her cheek.

This took the girl by surprise. Her eyes went wide as your lips pressed to her soft cheek. You leaned back, her brows creased as she watched you.

“Thanks,” you said again, with a shrug. Letting her know that was your way of thanking her. Small, but meaningful to you.

It was a long moment that you stood there, Hazel staring at you with wide eyes. For a couple of long seconds, you thought you’d fucked up. Misread the situation, mistook the tension for something else. But, you were proven wrong as she leaned forward, closing the distance between you by pressing her mouth to yours.

“You’re welcome.” She murmured as she leaned back, your eyes wide now from processing that Hazel had just kissed. That you’d just had your first girl-kiss. Fucking scary, but nice. You liked it. Liked her.

“I’ve never done that.” You whispered, blinking rapidly to ground yourself. “With, with a girl, I mean.” You corrected yourself almost instantly.

You’d kissed a guy or two before. Sadly, your first ever kiss was Tim at the ninth grade freshman dance. He was a bad kisser and you hated it. But, you liked how Hazel kissed. Despite it being a quick peck, it was full of intention and it was gentle too.

Hazel shrugged, a small half smile forming on her lips. “Maybe I can give you lessons.”

You grinned, laughing a little as you nodded, backing away toward the gym doors, needing to escape before you said anything else stupid. “Yeah, that’d be nice. I’ll send you my address.”

“Okay,” Hazel nodded, grinning widely to herself as you mentioned her coming over.

You almost skipped as you walked out of the gym, trailing behind Isabel and Brittany as the girls chittered away, the prospect that Hazel would be giving you fucking kissing lessons. You held the bundle of fabric close to your chest as you walked to your car. And it was then you noticed it smelled like Hazel. The detergent, obviously. But, there was something else that was just Hazel. And you never wanted it to go away. Maybe, you could wear it while she gave you kissing lessons that night.

2023 ©️ellieslaces please do not repost, rewrite, translate, or submit my work to AI or any other platform. please support your creators by reblogging, liking, and following!

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#Hazel Callahan #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan drabble #hazel bottoms #hazel #Hazel Callahan bottoms #hazel callahan bottoms 2023 #bottoms 2023 #lesbians #wlw post #cishet men dni

[scekrex]

I know there's a fandom thing going around that Adam doesn't like eating women out but.... bro I need to see trans! male! reader sitting on Adams face and getting eaten out... like..

I mean reader doesn't count cause he's a guy?? right?? it's not the same guys.. (I mean this in like Adams POV)

I also think it'd be silly if Adam WAS inexperienced in that.. category. Like, bro I want to humiliate him SO BAD!! I love his big ass ego but that makes me want to do it more.. So maybe the reader degrading him or talking Abt how inexperienced he is just to get on Adams nerves while he's eating him out?? I think it'd be silly.. Adam would fold if he was ever degraded or something by the reader, I mean he was constantly praised for being the first man, and was given a lot of special treatment so for the reader to make it CLEAR that he won't be the same way?? YES!! anyway I'm a little hungry for Adam guys sorry <3

Tbh I haven't heard of that headcanon yet but while I agree that Adam would not eat a woman out, he'd definitely suck dick and eat out trans dudes idc what everyone else says. To Adam it's just sometimes different to pleasure a dude with his mouth and I stand by that.

Suck it up, big boy

pairing: Adam x trans!male!reader

warnings: language, oral sex, no use of female privates though (it's briefly implied that reader has a biological female body though)

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

He tried to play it cool, tried to kill the voices in his head that were trying to tell him to pull away and tell you no. He was aware he could stop this at any given point, that you would not give him shit for doing so but he wanted to prove a point. He had bragged a little too much about knowing all the right ways to make you cum, he had dug his own grave when you had brought up that he could simply eat you out then and he had confidently responded with a cocky, ‘Yeah, no fucking problem’.

So when you lowered your hips until you sat on his face and Adam’s mind went completely blank, he wanted to fucking die again - for good this time though. He wanted to melt into the mattress and never come back. Fuck, why did you have to bring up the one thing he had just done once before and back then he had not fucking enjoyed it at all. Maybe that had been due to his partner being quite insensitive about him being inexperienced - you were different in any way and he knew that. It was also an entire different deal to eat a dude out, right? That was not comparable to eating out a woman despite you and his former female partners sharing the same sexual organs. Eating you out would be different, you were not a woman, you were a dude after all, just like Adam himself. Slowly the heavy fog that had clouded his mind lifted and he opened his mouth to let his tongue lick over your front entrance, a quiet moan fell from your lips and that encouraged Adam to keep going.

You were not able to hide the grin that had curled around your lips in victory. You had known it from the start, Adam had not the slightest idea what he was doing down there and for the first time ever since the both of you had started dating, your roles were reversed. For the first time it was Adam who had to learn how to please you instead of the other way around and you had to admit that you liked the thought of it a lot. And despite having no experience, he was trying his best - not that you’d let it slide that easily though. “I fucking knew you were all talk,” you hummed as you grinded your hips down against his face, your body tried to swallow his tongue but it seemed that Adam had other plans since he kept withdrawing it. Either he had other plans or he had no idea what he was supposed to do with himself. You were quick to notice the flinch that went through his body at your comment - the first man was used to a lot of your shit by now, degradation was not one of them. You felt how he wanted to pull back to argue and decided it was for the best to not let him, if he would need a serious break he’d let you know. “Don’t fucking talk about how good you are with your dirty mouth, Adam, show me instead,” you explained as you held his head in place by grabbing a fistful of his brown hair tightly, a needy moan rolled over Adam’s tongue and was sent right through your body.

The brunette’s tongue kept circling your entrance and you impatiently yanked on his hair as you growled, “Just fucking use your oh so magical tongue, dickmaster.” The nickname that usually sounded like a praise coming from your lips now sounded taunting and Adam was overwhelmed by the realization that he in fact liked it. His body reacted by bucking his hips up into thin air. Your free hand slapped his hip bone harshly before you pressed it against the mattress, “Behave, whore, you won’t cum until I taught you how to eat a man out properly.” And your words that sounded like a promise and a threat at the same time made his body shiver in excitement and another moan - this one was a little lower - fell from his lips.

With a shift of your hips your body was finally able to swallow Adam’s tongue and the choking noise that the brunette made at the sudden shift was music to your ears. “For your bragging about how good you are at this you’re pretty fucking weak, hun,” oh and you loved the way his body reacted to your mean sounding comments, the way his hips pressed up against the palm pinning it down, the way his hands - which were loosely holding your hips to keep them busy - would clench, nails digging into your skin to keep himself grounded. His golden eyes were open the entire time, scanning your body and its very move. “You’ve never done that before and it fucking shows,” you moaned as you kept grinding your hips against his face, trying to get is tongue to touch all the right areas, without him knowing where those are that turned out to be more tricky than you would have thought though. “Really thought I wouldn’t notice that you’re basically still a virgin when it comes to eating someone out, huh?” And that word - virgin - made Adam’s walls crumble, never in his entire life had someone called him that, let alone told him that he fucks like one. A high pitched whine left his throat and that sound you liked even more than the choking noise he had made earlier. “And someone like you dares to call himself dickmaster,” you huffed as the hand that had been busy with pinning his hips against the mattress teasingly ghosted over Adam’s erection, the brunette was quick to try and lean into your offering touch instantly. A muffled, “Fuck,” came from the man underneath you - well, at lest that was what Adam tried to say, the sound that actually left his lips sounded a little different. Not that either of you cared, no not really.

“Move your tongue to the right- no the other right, boo- oh fuck,” instructions he could definitely take and execute quite well despite the fact that he had been in a leading position his entire afterlife - he was the leader of the exorcists after all, not a really a position that would teach a person to execute orders well. Yet Adam did what you told him to do and earned himself a throaty moan of yours in return. “Look at the inexperienced bitch finally learning how to eat- oh dear God~” your degrading little comment was cut off by Adam thrusting his tongue all the way inside of you, licking down the inside of your walls and swallowing the liquid your body produced due to the lust flowing through your veins. Fuck, he surely had caught on quickly, huh? You felt the shiteating grin that you were sitting on and you did not like it - well, that was only partly true. You did like it that he seemed to grow more confident in his task, you did not like the control that took from you so the fist of yours that was still buried in his hair tightened in a warning manner. Adam’s hands grabbed a proper hold of your hips and slightly lifted them off his face to respond to your lust filled cry of Father’s name, “Not quite, but I’ll let it slide.” The fist in his hair tightened even more, then you yanked on the sweaty mess on his head firmly, drawing a beautiful sounding moan from your lover as you yanked his face closer to your privates again.

“Shut the fuck up and swallow, bitch,” you bit back a little harsher than you had intented to, but you knew Adam would not take that personally at all - if anything he would comment on it later how hot it was. His eyes locked onto yours as he continued to eat you out, the tongue of the first man was moving so skillfully by now, like it was his second nature, like he had been practicing this ever since he had been created. You knew better than anyone that wasn’t the case though. Moan after moan fell from your lips and the brunette underneath you drowned in the sounds you made for him, drowned in the thought of your body craving his just as much as his body was craving yours. Why was he so fucking good at this? He surely had no right to be, not when he was oh so inexperienced. You wanted to keep the dirty talk and therefore the degradation up but you had not enough air inside your lungs to do so, not when Adam kept drawing those beautiful sounds from you.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you #trans reader

[charmwasjess]

6, 13 and 18 (Dooku) for the fandom ask, please :D

6) Show us a bit of a WIP!

:D You get the Sifo + Dooku + Time Travel Piece that I'm "definitely" "not" "writing." Some Asajj + 20 year old Dooku team-up nobody asked for. Especially not Asajj. -

Asajj studied him again, more appraisingly this time. He did look disconcertingly familiar.

Did Dooku have an heir that she’d never heard about? She’d clocked the boy as younger, what with all his naivete and whining, but now that she really looked at him… Nineteen? Maybe twenty years old? The age lined up disconcertingly well with Dooku’s first days as Count. A hereditary title, after all, passed from father to son. The idea of Dooku reproducing was nauseating, of course, though it was at least a little funny to imagine the former Jedi’s face upon being informed that House Serenno required his “gift” to ensure the bloodline’s survival.

But no. Why would House Serenno surrender an heir to the Jedi? She didn’t need to see the long braid to recognize that this was clearly one of their Padawan Learners; he reeked of a sheltered Temple upbringing. She could practically smell the refectory milk on his breath.

“Why do you want to be the one to kill Count Dooku so badly, anyway?” she asked, instead.

“He killed my best friend!” His voice broke on the word best, but his fury streaked, vibrant as a comet in the Force.

Asajj almost choked on her laugh. It was so melodramatic. Cliche. Like a line from an overwrought holonovel, spinning out in predictable plot hooks before her eyes. This Jedi child was pathetic. She ought to get them into space and send him to look for Dooku out the airlock. It seemed like it would save her and the Jedi both a lot of trouble.

She thought of her sisters.

Vengeance. Thick and sweet and tangy, like spoiled cream clinging to her tongue. It belonged to her, but no less to the others whose lives Dooku had crushed out for no better reason than because he could. She was here to glut on the Count’s blood. Who was she to deny this hungry child his own right to the feast? Dooku made a big corpse. There was plenty for all.

“Do you know how to sit down and shut up?” Asajj turned briskly to the ship controls. They had already wasted too much time.

“Yes.” A lie. She could tell that without even looking at him.

“Yes, what?” She prompted, glancing back. Maybe she just wanted to hear him try to call her “my lady” in that ridiculous, overformal Coruscanti accent of his.

He swallowed audibly, clearly uncertain. He glanced again at the twin lightsabers at her waist and seemed to decide. “Yes, Master.”

Asajj couldn't help the small, startled laugh that broke from her chest. That hadn’t been what she was expecting. No one had ever called her that. She felt surprised at the strength of her own reaction. Perhaps this would actually be amusing. At least, for a little while.

“What is your name?”

“My name?”

Asajj rolled her eyes. “You have a name? Or should I just refer to you as ‘idiot’?”

She watched his hesitation, saw those big, guileless brown eyes drift and refocus. Black fucking stars, he lied artlessly, like a child.

“Sifo-Dyas. My name is Sifo-Dyas.”

13)What's a character or ship you haven't written/drawn yet but would like to some day?

I know I went backwards here writing the most unknown/unpopular character in the series with Sifo-Dyas to the most popular, but I'd really like to spend a little bit more time with Obi-Wan. He's got a large role in the next chapter of Twelves Months to Murder Count Dooku and I'm really excited. I really like the character. Kenobi changed something for me about him.

18) Type [charater]'s name and tell us what the autocomplete suggests as the next word

Lolol. "Dooku FOUGHT." "Dooku only" and "Dooku Nu" were other suggestions. Yeah, that really says it all. No notes, google.

#such a fun ask thank you so much Ant!!! #don't worry too much about Sifo-Dyas in the WIP he's just off playing with his clones #and Dooku fought Dooku only and Dooku Nu are my three main ways to write Dooku after all #answered asks #time travel au #why is that a tag I have now someone stop me

[dairy-farmer]

Titans always liked to party. Even when everyone started their own lives, barely seeing each other, they always found time to throw a party once in awhile.

This party was the biggest one yet. After one of the massive threats to the universe was dealt with, some of the JL members stayed, almost all of the Titans and even the Outlaws. Dancing, games, chatting... After a few hours, there were only a small group left: bachelors, who wanted to get drunk. Hal didn't really care about an age gap, everyone left were adults. Dick was always game. Roy wanted Jason to let loose, so they both stayed.

At some point they started playing Truth or Dare, but they figured out fast that they were too drunk for any action, that's why only truth was left on the table. Questions soon turned into only sex relating. The most adventurous time. Just the best fuck. Best blowjob. Until one of them mentioned Tim's name. That's when they figured out, that all of them had sex with Tim and that all the best times they were talking about were with him.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!! yesss!!! they're all heavily buzzed and are slurring their speeches, too drunk to even think of getting up from where they're sprawled over the floor on cushions, couches, and assorted arm chairs. there are occasional bursts of giggles, some rolled eyes from hal and jason over the other two giggling like school girls over something. but its not like any of them have anywhere to be. no girlfriends, wives, or children expecting them home. and also being drunk and alone is sort of pathetic so at least together they're socializing and having a nice time while occasionally forcing one another to do humiliating shit until it's late and they're tired and have decided to just keep getting 'truth' out of each other while they wind down from the party and enjoy the company of each other and pretend they're not nearly as drunk as they feel.

dick is failing at it the worst and is nursing a trashcan in his lap while seated criss cross apple sauce on the floor. hal has managed to claim the entire length of the couch and has his head rested on one arm rest and ankles crossed on the other. roy is slouched with his elbows on his knees on a chair and drinking a slowly melting slurpy because he'd volunteered for a 7/11 run. jason has an icepack over his eyes and a can of ginger ale in one hand and pretending they're not all there while he...batmeditates the drunkness away.

things are civil and friendly, occasionally they all share a laugh at someone else's expense while plying truths out of each other. there's an unspoken brotherhood in bachelorhood that makes being open and honest while wasted so much easier and so much more...freeing. they don't have to worry about judgement, about hurting someone's feelings. when among kin you can finally admit that sure that girl you dated on and off for years kind of sucked at giving head and that the best blowjob of your life was at an executive's christmas party while out on the terrace of some hotel.

roy sighs about the sweetest tits he'd ever seen being on someone he had no business hooking up with.

hal commiserates with him admitting that despite his playboy ways, the best fuck of his life had been this barely legal little thing that he'd been waiting to get his hands on since they were sixteen and that hal also would have risked losing his balls if anyone in the league ever found out about it.

jason, from under his icepack, grunts out about how his sweet little pocket pussy had let him put the mouth of his fully loaded favorite gun into his fucked out little hole that was dripping with jason's mess.

hal gives an impressed whistle and jason lets out an, honest to god, wistful sigh about how he should've put a fucking ring on it.

they all give a shared shudder at that though. if there's one thing they all understand its that none of them are...husband material.

still that doesn't mean there aren't...longings for the position and its associated benefits.

dick gives a miserable groan into his trashcan and a wet gag where nothing comes up before miserably sniffling and asking them if they thought that tim would mind dick sabotaging his birth control so he'd have dick's baby so dick could have his not so secret desire to be a daddy to more than just the goldfish in his apartment.

and it's the mention of tim that sends them all back into their drunken reminiscing and bragging about conquests and the mental all stars roster they each have regarding their hookups.

of which tim seems to be the mvp of.

it's not shocking, not to them. if others had been in the room they probably would've been surprised that the most prude robin actually wasn't all that chaste. but they all knew exactly what tim did in his spare time (them). the only part that's surprising is finding out that they all have become intimately familiar the hot tight little cunt that milked their cocks like it was handmade by god to do it.

it's not long until that's all they're talking about.

hal closing his eyes and moaning about how cute and pink tim's tits were when they bounced as he rode him. jason about how tim was so obedient, letting him bend him all sorts of ways and positions and being such a champ and letting jason keep going even when he was passing out from exhaustion. dick is fully laid on the floor and mumbling about how nice and cold the hardwood is while talking about how tim's mouth always looked so cute stretched around his cock-that he didn't even have a gag reflex. roy is shamelessly hard on his chair and talking about how its a shame tim doesn't cross paths with him more often that roy would've loved a repeat, that jason and dick were fortunate to share a home with tim.

"i bet you've gotten some great pics" roy sighs.

and that's when the other three freeze for a moment because...pics?

and that's when roy shows them his phone where tim has sent roy pictures!!!! of tim's little hands cupping a tit in his bathroom mirror, of tim's finger pressed into his dripping baby cunt.

and hal has to fumble for the short 30 second clip in his phone of him slamming into tim and grunting as he cums as deep as he can get. jason claims tim has left countless pairs of panties in his apartment and that tim didn't let him record them fucking because he thought jason would shove it in bruce's face whenever he was angry at him (which jason absolutely would do) and dick whines about how his baby timmy never sends dick that kind of stuff!!! but would he? if dick asked would tim send him naked pictures of him in bed??

it goes without saying that tim is their favorite, the one they have the most fond memories of, the one that was their most memorable experience.

but that doesn't mean they don't all feel a bit competitive when they all text him to see who he'll respond to first.

#answered asks #asks #anonymous #haltim #dicktim #jaytim #roytim

[bloodfiresandabram]

me: posts a snippet of the fic i started

me: doesn't do anything else for like a month

anyway, hey, here's another snippet because me giving in to the urge to write fics for aftg (and probably also tsc once i read it) has made me borderline feral with the need to write, write, and keep writing

Neil doesn’t mention his mother very often, not even to Andrew. Even thinking about her leaves him feeling conflicted, and while he can logically tell himself that Andrew’s distaste towards Mary is based on violent truth, whenever someone else points it out it becomes difficult to swallow down his urge to get defensive. If he’s being honest with himself, he can’t decide how he feels about her anymore. There’s a concoction of emotions that always swirl together in his head in a way, leaving him dizzy and disoriented.

He knows that Bee is aware of Mary because he knows that Andrew and Aaron have talked about Mary during their joint sessions. He knows this because Andrew had asked if he could bring her up, making it very clear that he wouldn’t give any details that Neil wasn’t okay with, but also making it clear that Aaron would likely lose some of his continuous animosity towards Neil if he knew something that he could relate to. “And what better for you to bond over,” Andrew had drawled with falsified disinterest, “than abusive mothers who died in cars.” Neil hadn’t flinched back at those words, but Andrew was looking at him intently like he was expecting it anyway. When Neil gave him blanket permission, he cocked a bro  but didn’t bring it up again.

A few weeks later Aaron approached Neil between classes, looking disgruntled and reluctant and kind of annoyed, but he huffed a sigh and crossed his arms over his chest defensively and leveled Neil with a look that wasn’t completely scathing. “Your mom,” he said, then stopped, grimacing to himself as Neil looked at him curiously, making himself stay quiet and patient, something he often isn’t. Eventually Aaron managed to string his words together, though it was obvious that he was gritting his teeth as he spoke. “She wasn’t good to you,” he said. “But you loved her, right? And maybe you still do, but you feel like you shouldn’t?”

Neil had faltered at those words. “She kept me alive,” he said slowly.

“But maybe that wasn’t good enough,” Aaron replied.

The topic wasn’t funny, but Neil huffed out a laugh anyway. “Maybe,” he agreed.

Aaron had looked at him a moment longer, brows pinched together. Then, without another word, Aaron spun around on his heel and walked away. Neither of them have broached the topic again, and Neil has no plans to do so anytime soon, but Aaron has been a little bit less hostile towards him ever since.

fic is currently at 14k words (but this snippet is from the first 3k). i will probably post more snippets as i write it and eventually, at some point, actually finish it and then post the fucking thing o7

#aftg #all for the game #aaron minyard #andreil #neil josten #andrew minyard

[kel-lance]

Team Bonding: JJK students x reader x sukuna Part 3

- TW: Dead dove dont read (DDDR) Minors do not interact (MDNI): SA, Physical Assault, DubCon, NonCon, Mindbreak, Public Humiliation, Multiple manipulation, RWORD, PTSD, a lot more.

- Premise: Characters are (18+) (Reader is 21) Jujutsu College au where things are the same but they found yuuji/He ate the finger at 18/+ the start of college.

- Yuuji “came back” after two months of “being dead” and you’re in charge of the training for today for the kyoto sister event.

- Sukuna switches with yuuji in this and chaos ensues :/

After was the worst fucking thing in the world. As much as you wished you could have blacked out the reality of it, or at least the hour after but you were wide awake, laying there. Yuuji was the one knocked out, Sukuna had switched back to gave you some time to clean yourself up. (Slapping you awake, reminding you to stay awake bc of your head injuries.)

His deal was that Yuuji doesn’t find out, that whenever he came around, they would show him your homework, and if he wasn’t satisfied with it he would show them what he wanted to see. After what they witnessed, they really couldn’t let that happen again, bc they knew it would be worse if he were to touch you rather than them. 

Whenever he did want to get a rise out of you, he’d start eyeing Maki and Nobara, where you roar back to life and have more fight in you. You knew first hand how awful he was, you weren’t going to let him hurt more people. 

Yuuji, if he ever finds out, would probably off himself, and we know it’s not his fault so we can’t let that happen either. “You won’t know when I’ll be back, so do your best.” He was fucking sick.

Everyone decided to stay with you, in trios. At night you were with the girls as that didn’t raise suspicion from the RT’s. Sometimes though, the other pairs would volunteer and watch you in your room while you slept during the day, if you ever needed it.

Nobara helps you more often, and tries to help you ground yourself by holding your hand. Her thing now was to lightly apply pressure to the joints of your hands to ground you, until you leaned into her for a hug or pulled away, signaling what was going on in your head.

Maki would always keep a look out. “That was fucking horrific to watch.” She could remember how the Zenin clan were so gross with trying to sell her and her sister off. The older men would look but they didn’t want responsibility for them, let alone chance that they couldn’t chance their own being born without cursed energy. It was more of an insult to be presented Maki, as Mai does have some. 

Her own personal feelings weren’t really what was fueling it, the threat of and forced witnessing of mistreatment without being able to do anything… She’ll play his game but never let him touch you again. After speaking with Nobara, you asked to smoke to knock yourself out. 

Medicine is the best rn, your body’s healed, but your mental, it was sure something you couldn’t heal. It was a lot in the moment and you’d just want to revert back to your old ways of coping and you knew they’d understand, but they wouldn’t let you.

So just a hit or two, as much as you could hold in, until your lungs burned, that it spread up to your throat and seared your nostrils. It was a really dry cough, and you were a mess, your eyes tearing and spit was caught in your sleeve, and you tried to wipe your running nose too. These hits were the ones where you didn’t look, somehow that helped you take in more air. Maybe it was better concentration, in this case you just wanted to be unconscious. 

After they put the piece away, and asked if you wanted help in the bath. You could feel the tension as your confident, abrasive and loud self was unblinking, staring out to nothing. You had just gotten back to your rooms as Gojo came back a little bit too late, where he found you were sitting with a thousand yard stare. 

The others were so quiet, and Yuuji knocked out on the floor, he could only come to the conclusion, “Did I miss out on a really crazy fight or something?” No one responded. “Wow,” He places a hand behind his head, looking at the dim crowd. “Okay… Well, class is dismissed for today. Can someone help me bring Yuuji to Shoko? Megumi? Thanks.”

Megumi broke out of his shell shock and looked down at his friend. That look told Gojo something, but the Honored One wasn’t interested in his students’ relationships (when they’re all seemingly fresh into the drama). He’ll wait or bug it out of his somewhat son. Megs got Yuuji on his back, acting like his friend was more hurt than let on. You knew Megs was in a tough spot, and he was acting his BEST, in front of Gojo no less. He couldn’t lie unless it was jokingly, and even that was rare.  

________________________________________________________

Maki helps you stand in the shower, she’s in her underwear to help you make it more comfortable. She knew to keep testing out the water before realizing you were getting lost in your dizzy spur as Nobara comes in with her phone. 

“Nobara.” Your friend held you up and pulls you into her. “What are you doing?”

“It sounds heartless,” She started. “But I thought if we took pictures now, it’d give (y/n) more time away from Sukuna.” Maki’s hold on you loosened a bit, going back to grab at the loofa and pumping body soap onto it. Nobara continued. “I was going over our options and honestly, who knows what he’ll do next. I don’t even-“

Maki sighs loudly, asking her to stop talking. There was a pause, letting Maki think further into this. “It’s up to (y/n).” 

“It’s really not.” You thought. This whole situation wouldn’t be happening if you could even let it. “Nothing after this is going to be mine. Everything was given away in front of everyone, your entire being bare, your most vulnerable just out in daylight. You couldn’t even be glad it was just in front of your friends, what if strangers saw, or your professors, and what if they couldn’t help you too?

Maki held you and had you lean your weight on her. Nobara grit her teeth, she wanted to ask you what you wanted but obviously this was the best solution. It wasn’t to save herself, it wasn’t to save just you either. Everyone’s lives were at risk because of this horny demon.

But really, blackmail? That’s what it’s come to. That’s really the only thing that could get your people to turn on you. You thought they knew you better, that you’d rather choose to die than let the humiliation continue. Maybe it was because you missed your chance to voice your opinion, of your own body, of the situation you staggered in not so long ago.  

The shock though, the over exertion of using your reversed curse technique really was a challenge, You usually hold off the healing until after, showing off once again. The pain would make you feel alive, and let them know they were landing their punches and hits. You eye at the shower handle, to make the water temperature hotter. 

Burning, you wanted to feel clean. You wanted to have your skin melt off like a layer of wax. The places on the outside where he’s touched, honestly chop them off. You would rather have a meat cleaver cut them clean off than have any more blood pulsate under your violated skin. And the pit in your stomach, it wasn’t even a pit anymore you were sick, he left sick in you and it was spreading. Your head hurt, your vulva and the actual cylinder that makes up your core, you wanted to cut it out, or shove a hot metal rod inside to cauterize the wound, or to clean the area with fire.

Or maybe even you’d eat the rod, have it melt through your neck as you have a few seconds of searing bliss. But instead you’ll have to be okay with the hot water of the shower. Nobara notices your eyes and tells Maki that you’re cold, and to get started so they could help you to bed faster. 

The water that hit your chest was at a steady pressure, the temp rising an your skin started to blotch and turn pinker. Your body was tingling and the hot water was almost getting you to feel your body again. it was almost comforting but it just wasn’t engulfing you like you needed. You needed a feeling to wash this all away. And sure the weed was helping but at the same time, it was still so soon. 

“(Y/n), I’m going to start now okay?” Maki said behind you. Her left arm was keeping you up and letting you lean onto her leg, her right hand is on your right side, making its way down your waist and she lightly places her hand on your butt. You don’t really mind this, until her fingers came close to your entrance. Your legs lightly moved closing together. “Hey,” You look up at Nobara, who was recording. “Please (y/n), let us help you.” 

You lower your gaze, looking away defeated, you slightly open your knees, letting Maki in but not wanting to. Her finger made itself known around your core, before she tapped you twice to let you know that she was going in. Her finger plunged into you slowly, just in and out. Your body shook with the sudden movement. “Sorry.” You both say. 

She digs in deep again but keeps her finger in, it was really weird honestly. This was your friend? And your other was also “helping”? But they seem so disgusted. You didn’t like this. You wanted them to praise you, you wanted them to think you were awesome and the best and super cool. Why was this so awful? Why was this so awkward and cruel? 

They switch, Nobara is taking her fingers out of you and you can feel it come out, while maki takes her now wet clothes off and positions the camera to help clean up your face. Nobara’s holding you up in the shower, digging her fingers as deeply as she could, but as gently too to not hurt you, or make you more uncomfortable than you already are. Maki comes back in, placing her hands on your hips, moving your wet hair from the nape of your neck. 

They know you don’t like small talk, and they had nothing to say. There was nothing to joke about, nothing to bring up or gossip about, no silly joke or new grand idea to tackle in the future. For once you all were stunned into the present, facing something that they can’t control the progress of. Nobara lifts her head up to look at you; If you did look back at her, then there was something worth saving, something she knew would still be a part of you is just waiting there, for this to all go away, and she was right. If you hadn’t looked, you were worse than dead’ according to your old beliefs. 

Nobara finishes feeling around inside, cleaning out her friend’s cum from your hole. The hot water was enough to wash most of it away, the slimy feeling was just something you almost couldn’t bring yourself to just scoop out.  Maki’s lightly circling the loofa around your back, avoiding the bruised spots until she can help it. Her touch was so nice you thought, but this was getting too much for you. 

She had her fingers spreading you open while the bubbles from your shoulders come down and create a soapy sight. 

The shorter girls eyes looked at you with despair, her older classman who would do anything by themselves is needing two of their closest friends to wash them after an assault. She thought she would see one of y’all die before a man could lay their hands on either of you. She pulls her hand away, wiping the slime onto her leg to get washed off. She just wanted to get you out of this haze, and didn’t know what else to do but lean forward, and gently start to kiss you.

You don’t know if it was from guilt of not being able to help, and this was her way of healing, maybe she liked you for a while and this is her chance or her feelings are overflowing after seeing such an event, but either way, Nobara Kugisaki, your underclassman of a year was semi naked and wet, kissing you in the shower. 

Maki on the other hand, was trying to keep you both up. She noticed Nobara trying to soothe you since they had to invade your space, and she let her hand go back down. Using two fingers to search for any remains of Yuuji/Sukuna in you, she wipes away the last bits she found and let it run. She was about to stop when Nobara’s hand shot out and grabbed Maki. Her eyes told her to go back to what she was doing before, saying how you were gasping while kissing Nobi. 

She wants you to actually feel good, and have your last orgasm be less traumatic, so they were gong to help you with that before bed. They weren’t going to let your rapist be the last person to touch you, much less be the last person you think about. They’re here for you, and they were going to help you cum.

Maki’s long fingers graced the line on your back before tracing the sides of your hips. Your lips were still locked with Nobara’s your hands finding energy enough to cup at her face gingerly. You could feel her silently speaking to Maki and you didn’t care what was going on now. The weed was hitting, the steam from the shower was creating an even dizzier environment and your anxieties were washed away with the cum that stained you. 

Her steady pumping brought a blush to your face, not that your body was already red from the scorching hot water. You were honestly glad women were helping you as it would probably end u into a second panic if you were to have “woken up” in a scene like this. Her fingers were more than enough, and having to kiss your mutual friend altogether, semi to fully naked, all cramped up in this shower stall? The realization had you cum around maki’s fingers and groaning into Nobara’s mouth, they had to hold you up as your orgasm knocked out your knees from under you.

Maki wiggles her fingers, pressing on your sweet spot, drawing your orgasm to a crescendo as she soothes you by kissing the back of your neck. Nobi’s lightly kissing at your chest and collarbone, keeping u balanced and letting you ride out the feeling as long as they could keep it. As you shook in their arms, you panted out as the feeling started to fade, now being able to stand on your own. It’s been a few hours since you’ve found your head again, and it pained you to see your girls were crying. 

You con’t know if it was the whole time, but their eyes were red and pleading for your forgiveness. “I’m sorry.” They sob. “I’m so sorry.” 

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x you #x reader #dark jjk #tw #tw dark content #taaotjjk #taaottw #tw dark content jjk #maki zenin x reader #maki zenin #nobara kugisaki #jjk nobara #jujutsu kaisen nobara #nobamaki #jjk maki #maki x reader #maki x you #maki x nobara #nobara x reader #nobara x you #nobara x maki

[pokelolmc]

One of my new favourite Hazbin Hotel fic AUs is this weird crossover niche of "Alastor is/was a character from another fandom, before he snapped and became who he is today" AUs, eg. "Harry Potter becomes Alastor", and one random "Tim Drake becomes Alastor" fic I found on AO3. Because I find it interesting to try and figure out how to meld the other character's backstory, powers or personality with his.

And that inevitably led my traitorous brain to the idea of "Danny Fenton becomes Alastor" (because now DP and DC are forever associated in my lizard brain, curse you Phandom!).

Which is just...the weirdest thing ever, because they're just so different—like, how the fuck do you set up Danny to become Alastor, of all people?! It feels like the most unfitting character to do this with...

And that's exactly what my brain has decided to see it as a challenge.

Added caveat: this is an AU!Danny specifically from a generic angsty dissection fic scenario, where he's been traumatised by his parents and fucked over by the world (and he has no healthy way to cope)—then he's sent back in time, lost and completely alone

-Danny falls through a natural portal to 1900's Louisiana with no way back (something something, Clockwork's-out-of-the-picture, something something)

-Alastor being a mama's boy? Danny gets taken in by a loving mother figure after getting lost in time—a kind woman familiar with the supernatural who accepts his ghost half right off the bat. He sees her as his family. After a year or so, though, she dies. He spirals again. He dyes his hair brown and starts wearing glasses when he runs away to New Orleans to change himself and cover his tracks.

-Alastor feels like an interesting name for Danny to choose because it means "the avenger", and can also mean "defender of the people" (a meaning more apparent in the Scottish version "Alasdair/Alastair"), but could also have a negative connotation of "persecutor"; the character symbolism writes itself

-the normally tech-savvy Danny who finds old-timey stuff boring would be forced to find something to entertain himself in the 1900's. So he gravitates towards radio, with it being the closest thing he's got to modern tech. Give him several years or so to grow attached to it and enjoy the idea of working in it. He goes from fantasising of radio comms at NASA to a public radio host, playing with all the fancy knobs and dials.

-his ghost half is the reason Alastor's powers/magic in Hell is green

(also I heard someone say the typical human!Alastor design has the "Timmy Turner hairstyle", which I can't unsee now. And it's Danny's hairstyle too. Because we know how well Butch Hartman and originality mix. Male protagonist? There's only one hairstyle for that!)

-he becomes a serial killer because he's snapped over the years after all the shit that's happened to him; he's developed a bitter, cynical and self-aggrandised ego and thirst for justice and revenge, and he's all alone with no one to keep him out of the dark echo chamber leading to villainy

-a serial killer with ghost powers plays cat-and-mouse with cops, and never leaves a trace; before he starts killing, he's already made deals with and intimidated the ghosts that come to New Orleans through other natural portals (it's a portal hotspot) under a new ghostly persona. He has both sides of the city fearing or respecting his power. Every ghost who goes to New Orleans knows whose territory it is. They just never link the ghost and human together. He becomes like an even worse Plasmius. It sets him up for Overlord stuff in Hell from the getgo

-the cannibalism was a...happy accident. On a whim, he decided one guy's crime was too insufferable to die without torment, so he took the guy back and...tortured him the way his ol' folks knew best. He starts cutting people open as if trying to relive what his parents did to him, but from the other end—as the person with all the power. Taste-testing what he cut up came incidentally, but he decided he didn't mind it and made it a routine.

I can imagine a villain!Danny with more narcissistic tendencies, but my main trouble is where the overblown confidence and charming/manipulative skills come from. After all, Danny's pretty socially awkward. How exactly does he grow into that?

#danny phantom #danny fenton #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #crossover au #cw: murder and cannibalism #but I mean it's Alastor what did you expect?

[tartsinarat]

Here’s the boi in his 10000/10 human cosplay

fun fact at some point he had cut his hair because it became too long and hard to deal with but ended up giving himself the worst hair cut ever and decided he liked it despite everyone being like “are you sure you don’t want it slightly more even?” When I did the drawing of him in his cursed form I did it with this hair cut in mind

Originally when walking around the human realm Pip would hide his scars/eye colour by either covering them up or with illusion magic but he’s gotten to the point has lost every fuck he has to give because people already find him off putting and uncanny anyways.

He also started working at the GHS museum as an assistant curator because he’s interested mostly in finding out wtf was the deal of Caleb, Evelyn and Philip, as well as to find any knowledge he can on the portal door but he also does it because he likes sneaking the money he gets paid into Camila’s purse as a repayment for everything because she didn’t accept it when he tried to give it to her upfront because even though she really appreciated it she didn’t want Pip to feel as if he’s in debt but Pip was too stubborn and just decided to do it the sneaky way, Camila knows this and is playing a 4d chess game where she uses his money to get things she thinks he would buy himself and then gives it to him as presents.

Also Ngl Pip hates his job with a passion because Jacob just assumes that because Pip doesn’t talk much but is somewhat neutral on him that it’s an invitation to start randomly spew out conspiracy theories every time he sees Pip but because Pip honestly doesn’t have enough knowledge on humans and their culture, he doesn’t know that Jacob is crazy so he just puts up with it and is just like “huh neat, the human government is full of extraterrestrial lizards? What a delightful government :)” much to Jacob’s dismay.

But Pip doesn’t really start hating Jacob with a passion until Jacob shows him the video of Vee almost getting dissected and Pip almost losses his shit and has to drag himself away from mauling Jacob because at that point Pip and Vee have bonded enough through their similar backgrounds of being horrific magic experiments as well as just spending time together that Pip already considers them another younger sibling.

The colours he’s wearing in the first ref picture sure look familiar and may or may not be hinting something traumatic that’s going to happen :)

#the owl house #original character #toh #toh au #golden heir au #the owl house au #art #oc #owl house au #oc stuff #philip wittebane #belos

[anotherdragon]

Sorry Boys has the perfect setup for becoming an actual like. ARG or horror web series and I genuinely think its really funny that it's like. not. they have a website where if you input a code you get an ominous audio snippet in the zombie apocalypse videos they reference several other sorry boys videos implying that they're all somehow taking place in the same universe, weird cryptic things happening in some of the videos that just. never get explained. and they've all got experience with acting and horror (ranboo from genloss and the enderwalk arg, wilbur from his arg, charlie from genloss and jrwi, and all five of them have been on roleplay servers) and they've committed to being a fucking insane vlog channel. perfect keep up the good work guys

#sorry boys #the sorry boys #I am being so completely genuine this is not negative at all I do find this really funny. #though if they ever decide to do something more with it it would so fucking cool #slimecicle #ranboo #tommyinnit #okay imt oo fucking tired to tag the rest of them. Insert White Male Streamer Here

[oddinary4bts]

To Give a Helping Hand | jjk

☆summary: when Jungkook comes home from the gym, he goes feral thinking about you.

☆pairing: idol!Jungkook x female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: smut, idol!au

☆warnings: unedited, curses, explicit content: masturbation. that's it, that's the whole thing. Cumshot on his hand tattoos. Jungkook is hella horny for reader and jerks off thinking about her - fantasies of oral sex (male and female receiving), of unprotected sex, of rough sex, of hickeys and marking (scratches on the back), of shower sex, of spanking, of choking, of creampies, of clit play, of fingering and squirting. Multiple orgasms, lowkey pain kink and praise kink (let me know if I forgot something)

☆word count: 1.8k (I think it's the shortest thing I've ever written on here lmao)

☆a/n: pure unedited sins bc mr jeon jungkook makes me horny despite being in the army. hope this doesn't disappoint lmaooo thank you to @wintaerbaer for her help with the banner (it would have been a horrible mess without your guidance) and for encouraging me to write this!! love you Ari <3333

☆☆☆☆☆

You’re driving him insane.

You. Are. Driving. Him. Insane.

Insane.

Every time Jungkook sees you at the gym, he goes insane. Completely, utterly, insane. He thinks there has to be a better word in the dictionary to describe what you do to him but, alas, he can’t find it.

So insane it is, and he tries to live up to the name.

He’s been home for five minutes, and he’s already in his bed, dick so hard he thinks it’ll explode. Because of course you had to be doing squats today, in those way too tight biker shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. Your thick ass, stretching the fabric so much he thinks he spied a thong underneath…

Jungkook grunts, hiding his eyes behind his arm, trying to erase the picture from his mind. But he can’t. You’re everywhere – behind his closed eyelids, or a ghost in his room when he opens his eyes again.

It’s been that way since the very first day he saw you at the gym. Jungkook caught sight of you and immediately had a boner, which hadn’t happened to him since he was a teenager. He’s a grown man, for fuck’s sake, yet the sight of you turns him on far more than anything ever has.

You’re just… perfect. Too hot, your body perfectly sculpted by the hours you spend at the gym every week. Jungkook dreams of dragging his hands, his tongue, on every inch of your body. Of caressing your hard-earned muscles, of gripping the meat of your ass…

Of grinding into you and hearing the little breathy moans he’s sure that you make in the thralls of passion.

Fuck.

If he’s honest, he would have fucked you that first time. Would have approached you and charmed you, seduced you until he’d have you writhing under his body. But one look – one damn look – at your keychain, and he knew you were off limits.

The bright pink Kooky plushie hanging from the keychain was a firm reminder that he cannot approach you, ever. Indeed, he doesn’t mix pleasure with work, which is starting to prove increasingly hard as he gets more famous, and as his fans grow way too numerous.

As his fans, as you pretend that you don’t recognize him when you go to the gym, even though he catches you looking at him all the time. Yet he can’t approach you, won’t approach you, ever. But nothing stops him from exploring his dirty little fantasies, whenever he wraps his hand around his cock…

Jungkook grunts, and he decides to take manners into his own hands, literally. He wishes it’d be your hand, gripping his cock once he’s pushed his shorts and underwear down. Wishes you’d hold him tight as you’d jerk him off slowly, eyes never leaving his.

He imagines you taking him in your mouth. Your plump lips, wrapping around the tip of his cock, sucking once as he’d fist your hair, restraining himself from thrusting in your mouth. Or maybe you’d give him the go to fuck your mouth, to unleash himself on you…

Jungkook moans, and he jerks himself off, slowly. Eyes closed as he imagines everything he wants you to do to him, everything he wants to do to you. His hand is not nearly enough to pleasure him, not when he’s been craving you the way that he has…

But it’ll make do.

Spitting in his other hand, Jungkook holds his dick up to rub the natural lube on the head of his cock. He winces – he’s already so damn sensitive… Probably because he’s sported a semi since he saw you at the gym.

Who gave you the right to go to the gym in those shorts, with only a sports bra to pair with them? You looked devilish, downright sinful, and you’ve dragged him to hell.

Once his dick is lubed up, glistening in the dim light from the hallway because he sure as hell didn’t have time to turn the lights on in his room, Jungkook strokes himself, slowly. Tattooed fingers firmly wrapped around his cock, just the way he likes it – right under the tip, hard enough to hurt just a little bit.

Hard enough to make him wish he was fucking your tight pussy instead. He imagines the drag of your walls on his dick, on his veins and on the ridge of his tip. He imagines your breasts bouncing up and down as you’d ride him, and then your face, contorted in pleasure, as he’d jackhammer into you.

He’s had noise complaints from his neighbours once, because of the loud singing he does once in a while, when he goes live for his fans. Right now, he wishes he’d get a noise complaint because they’d hear him fucking you good, fucking you until you’d crumble into ecstasy.

He picks up the pace on his dick, free hand grabbing at the white sheet of his bed. Would you be the type to moan unabashedly loud? To say his name when you come, when your walls flutter on his dick?

The thought makes his dick twitch in his hand, and Jungkook grunts again, curses underneath his breath. He doesn’t even know your name, but he sure as hell knows he’d come with your name a litany on his lips, a sinful melody he’d sing just for you to hear.

Would you drag your nails on his back, marking him so that the world knows you’re his? Would you suck on his neck, leave hickeys behind that he’d have to hide under foundation? Would you beg for him, or would you be a brat?

He wants you to be a brat. He wants to have to put you back into your place, to spank your ass and choke you until all you know is his name. He’d be feral with you – he’s feral just thinking about you. And maybe one day he’ll betray his number one rule, maybe one day he’ll fuck you into the night, hear you cry with pleasure as he’d pump his load inside of you…

His imagination is running wild, and his pace on his dick is relentless, unforgiving. His bicep burns already, even though he’s barely started. Or maybe he’s just too lost in his fantasies, losing track of time. But he doesn’t care – he’d lose track of time fucking you, too.

“Fuck,” he moans, eyes closed tightly, eyebrows bunched together as if in pain. But he’s not hurting – he feels way too good, the pleasure running through his blood a symphony every cell inside of him is addicted to.

You’re just too beautiful to him. He’d fucking crawl on his knees for you, or maybe he’d make you crawl. He’d force you to crawl, to beg for him, to…

Jungkook grunts loudly, his orgasm hitting so hard it feels like a trainwreck. He doesn’t slow down his pace on his dick right away, letting his cum spurt out and drip on his fingers, on the back of his hand. He doesn’t even care if he makes a mess – he’s lost to his pleasure, and he doesn’t want to come back to sanity. He wants to stay insane, and so he drags his orgasm out, milks it out of himself.

And he comes a lot, painting his whole fucking hand white. He’d think it to be disgusting, but when he looks down at his hand, fuzzy from his blissed-out pupils, he sees that he’s covered his tattoos with cum. His army tattoo – the closest he’ll get to come on you. He curses at the sight, hates that it’s turning him on again and that his dick twitches, begging for more. But all he does is watch the cum – it covers the three first letters, but it’s slowly dripping towards the y, and soon the whole tattoo will be covered, like he fucking wishes your pussy would be covered with his cum, dripping with it. He’d finger you with it.

Fucking hell.

Jungkook gives in to the unrelenting desire once he’s in the shower, trying to clean himself. A single thought of your thick ass and the stretched fabric of your biker shorts sends him back to square one, and he jerks himself off again, fast and hard, his free hand leaning on the wall. He’s quick to shift and put his forearm against the wall instead, hiding his face in his arm. And then he imagines fucking you in this shower, taking you from behind as your ass cheeks shake from his ministrations. He imagines you trying to find purchase on the wall, your hands slipping until he pulls you back into his chest. He’d hold you tight, wrap a hand around your neck, and he’d find your clit with his other hand.

He’d make you come so fucking hard. All night long. He doesn’t think he’d let you even fucking walk out of his apartment. He’d fuck you seven days a week, wouldn’t even leave his bed.

This time, his release hits differently, not as strong. It still fills his blood with ecstasy, and his head swims as he watches his cum go down the drain. His hand, his tattoos, are mostly clean this time around, and he imagines them covered in your cum instead. In your sleek juices as he’d finger you, making you squirt everywhere…

He curses loudly, turning the shower to cold, immediately wincing as the water hits his back. But it’s the only way he thinks he’ll manage to chase his arousal away. Hell, he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his fucking evening masturbating. Though it’d be worth it, and he’s fully aware that he’d be able to. He’d just need to think of you, and he’d be ready to go again.

But when he steps out of the shower, he decides otherwise. He decides to go live – are you watching him, from wherever it is that you live in this city? Do you know that you make him insane, so, so insane that he just came twice to the thought of you?

He smirks, watching the comments coming in even though he hasn’t said anything yet. They fly too fast for him to be able to read anything, but he knows.

He knows that you’re there, on the other side of the screen, watching him as he watches you. Where else would you be?

And he knows damn well that next time he’ll see you, he’ll talk to you. Fuck the rules, fuck the fact that you’re his fan. He needs to fuck you, to know what your pussy taste like and how you sound when you come.

So next time he sees you, instead of jerking himself off alone, Jungkook knows he’ll ask you to give a helping hand.

Next

☆☆☆☆☆

Welcome to the land of sinning lmao hope you enjoyed this short ride! Let me know what you thought - it always motivates me to write more stuff like this ;)

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

#to give a helping hand #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #btswritersclub

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Cállate

Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Summary: Miguel thinks you talk too much.

S m u t. P in v, dirty talk, Miguel being mean? Cream pie, cum eating. Jfc.

Minors DNI. I'm warning you 😤

It's not that he hated you.

Miguel O'Hara could never hate you. You just annoyed him to no end. Pushed his buttons. Teased him.

"Miguelitoooo," you'd sing in that stupid tone, "you need to relax. You brood too much. Such a broody man, hmm?"

Miguelito.

The goddamn nickname drove him up the wall, though at this point he wasn't too sure if it was irritation, or the lust that's been grabbing hold of his cock lately. What was it about you that had his head spinning with a feral need to sink his teeth into your flesh? To shove his cock so deep inside you you'd be rendered speechless for once?

Fuck, you were annoying. While he was a man of few words, you spoke as if on a fucking time limit, spewing nonsense every chance you could get. Everytime he looked at you it was a rush of emotion, and he didn't know whether to punch something or grab you by the shoulders and shut you the fuck up himself with his lips.

He decided on the latter.

You sauntered into his private headquarters in that tight little suit of yours, already running your mouth a mile a minute about...something. It might have been important, but Miguel wasn't listening, too busy watching the way your hips swayed.

"Miguelito, are you listening? Or are you too busy brooding as usual?" You were looking down at your watch, pressing on a few buttons distractedly, "Honestly, I don't know how you became the brains of this operation."

You stood in front of him, such a little thing compared to his massive size, your eyes still on your watch. "Have you been ignoring Lyla?"

"I put her on do not disturb."

You snorted, finally bringing your eyes to his intimidating ones, "Oh, so I guess I'm disturbing you too, huh?"

"Always." With a grunt, Miguel snatched you by the waist, losing his patience completely. You gasped, surprised by his actions, but you smiled knowingly, looking up at him with doe-like eyes. Finally.

"A first date would be nice, Miguelito-"

"Shut up." He growled, baring his glistening fangs. "Cállate, por Dios."

He wasted no time, immediately surging forward to capture your lips, silencing you efficiently. It was a hungry kiss, sloppy, more tongues than anything else. He pulled moan after moan from you, stripping you both down in a matter of seconds before nipping at the delicate skin of your neck and shoulders.

Miguel had you up against the wall, his brute strength holding you up with ease. You quickly wrapped your legs around his hips, eyes rolling as he slid his large cock over your slippery folds.

"M-miguel," his name fell from your mouth beautifully as you held on to his broad shoulders for dear life, "Miguel, p-please."

"When are you gonna learn to shut up, hm?" He groaned, his arousal igniting from the obscene sounds of your slick cunt coating the underside of his length, "when are you gonna learn to keep your mouth shut for five seconds?" You were cock drunk already, mouth hanging open and tears threatening to fall from your pretty eyes.

"I-"

"Cállate, hermosa, just shut up and take this cock," Miguel muttered over your lips, lining his cock up carefully before nudging your pussy open with the fat head of his dick. You choked, tears finally bursting from your eyes, dampening both your faces as he held you close. Your cunt clamped down on his cock with every inch he pushed in, causing you to cry out.

"Shh, I got you, just let me in," he cooed in the most gentle way he'd ever been with you, "I know you can take this cock, mhm, así, just like that, open that pretty pussy up for me."

You moaned whorishly, your head falling back against the wall with a thump as Miguel began a merciless pace, immediately reaching the place where you needed him the most.

"Ohhh fuck, Miguel," you cried, your juices coating his thighs with every stroke of his cock as he pounded and pounded and pounded into you, "you're so d-deep." More juices leaked from your cunt, giving Miguel easier access into your slick channel.

"Quiet hermosa," he heaved, holding you tight against his merciless hips while clamping a large hand over your mouth, "don't want the others to know how good I'm fucking you, ehh?" The only sounds heard in the room were your muffled cries, his grunts, and his balls slapping against your ass as his cock slipped in and out of you.

You wanted to say something, anything really, to shove him off his high horse, but you couldn't, too far up in cloud nine to do anything but drool all over his palm and let his thick cock kiss your cervix repeatedly, bruisingly, deliciously.

"Asi, hermosa," Miguel sticks out his tongue, lapping at the salty tears streaking your cheeks, "calladita se ve más bonita, hm?" He knew you were close, he felt it in the way your pussy tightened on his cock. He kept ramming his hips into you, grunting with every stroke.

"So fucking tight," he groaned, dropping his head on your shoulder, "I imagined this so many times, stuffing you with my cock, but fuck, who knew it'd be like this?"

"M-miguel, please," you whined, ripping his hand away from your mouth, "p-please."

He pierced his fangs into your neck, and that was when the dam broke. You gushed all over his cock, eyes rolling and mouth open as you silently came. Your pussy spasmed, fluttering over Miguel's cock as he lapped up the blood beading from the tiny wound he inflicted.

"That's it," he cooed, holding you tightly in his arms as you shuddered, "that's my girl." His strokes were sloppy now, too lost in your delicious wet heat to be as precise. After a few more thrusts, he buried his head in your neck again, releasing a growl from the very pits of his stomach, deep and aggressive, as he pumped his seed inside you.

Miguel held you for a moment, the both of you catching your breath. You were like a ragdoll over him, and he chuckled, nuzzling you with his nose. He released you, letting his cock slip out. His cum ran down your leg, white and hot as he gently set you on the ground. He hummed, taking two of his large fingers and scooping up some of the mess he made between your legs before smearing it over your lips.

"Open." He commanded, and you obediently did as told, opening your mouth and curling your tongue around his digits, savoring the taste of your combined juices with lidded eyes. You moaned at the tangy taste, your hands flying to skim down the length of his chiseled abdomen.

Miguel watched you, caging you in with one arm against the wall, mesmerized at how your mouth worked over his fingers.

You looked absolutely fucked out, skin flushed, hair a mess, but most of all, quiet.

#spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #spiderverse

[nanaslutt]

Okay but perv Geto is so fucking good and so fucking accurate what if he caught reader using the shower head on herself and decided he would do her one better 👀

perv geto<3 my luv

contains: fem reader, voyerism, perv!geto masturbation(r!&geto), so much dirty talk, sexual tension, praise, degradation, unprotected sex, shower sex, whipped!geto, softer ending, implied aftercare

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

“Fuuuu-mmm” you slapped a hand over your mouth to conceal your wines as the strong stream of water from the shower head hit your clit perfectly— the perfect temperature, the perfect pressure.

You had started out standing but quickly decided to make yourself as comfortable as possible on the smooth tile of the shower floor when you realized how intense the stimulation was.

Your legs were spread while you bucked your hips against the stream or water. Your body was jerking and jolting at the sensation of the water caressing just right under the hood of your clit.

You held your breath as the warm water brought you closer and closer to your high, jaw dropping and eyebrows scrunching together as you were pushed off the edge.

“Haaaa-aaah fuck-“ you whined a little too loudly. You felt your walls clench around nothing as your orgasm washed through your body, the warm steady pressure of water was working you over so well, prolonging the intense feeling as you jerked and gasped into the small room of the bathroom.

shlick shlick shlick

“Fuuuuck… cmon go again, do it again..” Geto whispered under his breath from the other side of the door.

You knew you weren’t being relatively as quiet as you know you should’ve been; having a roomate in the house; but you figured the water would drown out most of your noises.

You could not have been more wrong.

For the past five or so minutes that you had been getting up to your antics in the shower, Geto’s ear was pressed against the door, warm hand wrapped around his fist and pumping steadily while listening to your wines and curses as you got yourself off.

He heard you and Shoko talking about this new method to masturbate over the phone the other day, he didn’t mean to ease drop but.. yes he did.

The second he walked by your room and heard you repeat back to shoko, “A shower head? down there? really?” He froze in his tracks, listening to the short conversation after your question that followed.

Ever since that day, whenever you got in the shower he would follow right behind you. The moment he heard the shower come to life, his head was pressed against the thick wood door, listening for any telling signs that you were trying out this new trick you had learned.

And he is so glad he didn’t give up, night after night he spent standing at that door, shuffling his body weight between both of his feet as he waited so patiently to hear something, anything that sounded like you touching yourself, and he finally did.

He wanted to feel guilty he really did, but the vivid image he had painted of you, standing with the shower head you body used, against your clit, moaning and whining as you made yourself cum with it.. the guilt in his body was nowhere to be found.

You panted hard on the floor, squeezing your legs shut in comfort when your orgasm subsided, “holy shit,” you breathlessly whispered, amazed at how good that had felt.

You pulled your lip between your teeth, thinking. The water was still warm, so you couldn’t have been in there for too long.. a second round wouldn’t hurt.. right?

You spread your legs once more, wincing when you brought the shower head back to your clit, face scrunching as you tried to overcome the overstimulation you felt as trying to go again so soon.

You managed to push through it—though you realized you felt ten times more sensitive than before, it was proving to be harder to hold back your noises as you alternated between letting the water spray against your tight hole, and your sensitive little bud.

“Yesyesyes” Geto smiled triumphantly when he heard your noises start up again on the other side of the door after a brief pause. He started up his own hand again, stroking himself faster at the sound of your needier wines this time around.

He was picturing himself standing behind you, his cock fucking in and out of your tight hole while he held the shower head against your clit. He imagined you would protest at how it was too much, too good, to please give you a break— and of course he wouldn’t.

He would fuck into you harder, faster, he would manipulate the shower head in a way so the water was caressing your clit in circles, he pictured you curling in on yourself while you came all over him, he tried desperately to squeeze his hand in a pulsing motion to mimic what he thought your pussy would feel like when your high arrived.

He slowed down his strokes when an idea popped into his head. You could practically see a lightbulb form over him as he completely paused the strokes on his angry dick, quickly pushing his cock back into his pants and zipping them back up.

It was not unusual for the two of you to use the bathroom while the other was in the shower. The sliding shower door was one of those cloudy ones, so you could see nothing but the persons silhouette as they used the shower. The bathroom also had no lock, which Geto thought was absolutely perfect.

He rapped a quick knock onto the wood, “Coming in, gotta brush my teeth” he said as nonchalantly as he could, giving you a could seconds before he cracked the door open.

You were shocked out of your daze, slapping your legs together as the door opened, you prayed he would get his toothbrush and leave, like he usually did, but he had other plan.

“Oh- o-ok-“ You stuttered out when you saw his frame come through the door. You held your breath as you tried to ignore the throbbing between your legs, crying for you to continue the simulation before he interrupted you.

You watched his blurry frame grab his toothbrush, squeezing on the toothpaste and that’s when you froze. You watched as his head turned towards the shower, holding your breath before his deep voice spoke through the room.

“Why are you on the ground?” he questioned, making you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping that if you tried hard enough, you might disappear. “Didn’t hear you fall, you okay?” he asked, knowing damn well you weren’t on the floor because you fell.

He wasn’t expecting to see you like this, but he couldn’t deny that the thought of you having to sit down from how weak your legs were from just putting a shower head to your clit was making him dizzy.

“I-i’m okay,” you answered, praying that would be the end of his interrogation— it wasn’t.

“Didn’t answer my question.” He repeated, a smirk you couldn’t see, spreading itself across his handsome face, “Why are you on the ground if you didn’t fall?” He spoke.

You stayed silent, looking around the four walls of the small shower box you were in, trying and failing to come up with some excuse, instead feeling your mouth flap open and closed like a fish while little ‘uhh’ and ‘umms’ fell from your lips.

You watched his figure sit down on the closed toilet seat. The silence in the room was making your heart race, had he heard you moaning?

“Where’s the shower head?” he asked. You pulled your lip into your mouth and closed your eyes, forgetting that you can see the shower head peak out from the top of the shower door.

“What are you doing?” you asked quietly, at this point, you knew he knew— and you knew he was teasing you about it.

“Just wanna know where my shower head went, I spent a lot of money for that attachment you know~” He cooed, making you sigh.

“I..” you started, opening your eyes and peeking at his blurry frame through your peripheral vision, “I have it.” You finished.

“Where?” he quickly responded, smile still plastered on his face, his hand coming down slowly to subtly rub himself over his pants, using the obstruction of the blurry shower door to conceal his antics.

“Down here, with me.” You answered. “What’s it doing down there? hmm?” His deep voice resonated.

You started to feel yourself grow hot, and it wasn’t because of the temperature of the water. “I needed it.” you answered vaguely, feeling yourself throb between your legs at this interaction.

“You needed it?” he repeated, rubbing himself harder over his pants, letting out a short laugh when all you responded with was a short ‘mhm’

He watched your form move behind the glass, guessing your legs had spread open again, watching your arm move to place the shower head back between your legs.

He heard your breath hitch quietly when the water made contact with your little bud once more, “Needed it bad, huh?” he spoke again.

You tipped your head back against the shower wall, ignoring the blaring signals of what the hell are you doing this is your roomate, going off in your head. Instead you opted to move the shower head in circles, letting the water caress your pussy in the way you needed.

“Who taught you that huh?” he asked, knowing full well who the culprit was, and internally thanking her. “A-a friend.” you responded, your breath picking up as you spoke.

“Yeah? Did your friend also say it was okay to use my shower head to play with your pussy?” he asked. His vulgar and more direct words made you whimper, your cunt clenching around nothing as he continued.

“Y-you like it,” you responded, rolling your hips up into the stream of water.

This caught him off gaurd.

“Don’t t-think I haven’t noticed you outside the door whenever I s-shower ngh-“ you whine, wanting your voice to sound more like you were scolding him, but your words came out rushed and needy instead.

“You wanted m-e to do this,” you finished with a whine when the stream hit your clit a little too intensely.

“Fuck,” he laughed, reaching his hand into his pants once more to pull out his cock and stroke himself properly, “Why didn’t you say anything huh?” he asked.

“Didnt w-wanna ruin your fantasy, p-pervert.” you responded, the name making his cock twitch. “Oh I’m the pervert?” he responded, “Who was the one letting me listen to her shower? the one using my shower head to make herself cum?”

“L-listen to yourself, your just a nasty v-voyeur,” you wined, moans freely falling from your lips now at how worked up this conversation was getting you.

He felt his balls clench at your degrading words, cock still in his hand as he stood to his feet, sliding the slower door open in one swift movement and entering the shower, soaking his clothes as he dropped to his knees, gripping your chin in his free hand as he pressed your lips to his.

“Mmm! Mph-“ You whined into his mouth, feeling his arm rapidly move back and forth between you, his heavy breathing giving away his antics.

You kept the shower head on your clit as the two of you made out. He kissed you like he had been wanting to do this for years, bulling his tongue into your mouth and groaning into your cavern, the two of you swallowing each others noises.

“Sugu- Suguru, fuck-“ you moaned his name needing in between kisses, feeling yourself get pushed to the edge for the second time.

He sucked your lip into his mouth before pulling away and gripping your wrist that was controlling the shower head. “Let me fuck you,” he begged against your lips, “Let me fuck you please.” You were astonished at how quickly he was switching gears. He was so dominant just seconds ago and now he was on his knees in front of you, begging you to let him put his dick inside you.

“I’ll make you cum so much harder than this fucking thing please, let me prove it,” he rushed, his hand still jerking quickly over his cock as he sucked his lip into his mouth.

“Okay, okay ye-“ you answer, soul leaving your body when he wrapped his arms around you, yanking the both of you to your feet, he pulled you up by the underside of your thighs wrapping your legs around his waist as he pinned you against the shower wall.

You were getting whiplash as how quickly this was progressing, you gasped in anticipation as his hand grabbed ahold of his cock underneath you, you gasped when you felt it rub against your entrance.

“You can’t take it, Look at me, you can take it.” He spoke, pressing his his forehead to yours and making you keep eyes contact with him, distracting you from the sheer size of his cock that looked like it threatened to split you in half.

The two of you stared at each other with bated breathe, waiting for geto to slip his cock into your hole. The two of you gasped in tandem when he slid inside, the slide eased by the water.

“Oh fuck,” The dark haired man rolled his eyes back in his head, “So fucking tight oh my-“ He cut himself off when he bottomed out, gasping against your mouth as you wined at the stretch.

You’ve never taken anything inside you even remotely close to the girth and length of Geto’s massive cock. You were glad you came once before and your walls were more pliant, otherwise you would’ve been actually worried that he might’ve split you in two.

“Holy fuck you’re so big-“ you praised, looking down between the two of you and seeing your cunt fully pressed against his abdomen. “S-should’ve stopped being a fucking pervert and g-grew the balls to come in here and f-fuck me week ago,” you giggled.

Geto had no idea why when you spoke down to him it made his cock twitch, his balls would clench and threaten to spill his seed without even moving. Even before he got inside you when he heard the name leave your lips he had to squeeze the base of his cock to prevent himself from cumming prematurely.

“I know, you’re right,” he agreed, before he started a rough pace with his hips, fucking meanly into your cunt.

You bounced forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and digging your nails into his back as high pitch “ah! ah! ah’s” we’re fucked out of your lungs.

“This perv fucking you better than that shower head?” he asked, smiling into the crook of your neck as his cocky pistoned in and out of your hole, his fat tip fucking straight into your gspot.

“D-ont kno-w” your words came out choppy and high pitched thanks to his rough thrusts. “You don’t know?” He repeated, his lip jutting out in a frown as he bounced your body up and down his cock with ease. “Let’s find out then,” he added.

He gripped the sides of your body, pulling you up off his cock with ease and flipping your body around, so you were back to chest with him, just like in his fantasy.

He slipped his cock back inside you, making you whine, your legs shaking and trembling under your own weight, small hands reaching out to grip onto the shower door handle to keep yourself steady.

Geto reached over and grabbed the shower head, picking it up off the ground from the tube part and pulling it up into his hands, he quickly checked the pressure and temperature against his fingers before he wrapped one large arm against your tummy, pulling you back against his chest.

He maneuvered his other hand in front of you, teasing the spray of the water against your pelvis before he spoke, “Don’t pass out on me.”

Geto placed the stream of water against your clit before resuming his brutal pace inside your pussy once more. If it wasn’t for his strong grip against your stomach, you were sure your legs would’ve given out on you.

“Fffuuuuuck-“ You wined, eyes rolling back in your head at the intense pleasure. “Fuck- You’re so much tighter when your little clit gets some attention-“ he choked, gritting his teeth at the feeling of your pussy walls constricting around his cock.

He tipped his head back, jaw dropping as he tried not to lose his own balance, he understood now why you ended up on the floor.

“Not gonna last with your squeezing me this fucking tight.” he warned, his lips coming down to suckle against your neck as the both of you were spiraling closer and closer to your impending orgasms.

“Fuck it’s you- you shi-t,” you tried to tell him, making him grin against your neck, “You fuck me better ha-aaah!” you wined, your arms leaving the shower door to dig your nails into his arm that was wrapped around your torso.

“Yeah? Am I making you feel good?” He bated, needing to hear you praise him. “So ahhn! So good Sugu! So fucking good, love your cock-“ you got cut off by the first wave of your orgasm, catching you off gaurd suddenly.

“Yeahhh cum all over my fucking cock- good fucking girl-“ your roomate praised, his thrusts becoming sloppy as your walls fought to milk him for all he was worth,

“Gonna make me cum,” he warned, gritting his teeth and rolling his eyes back when you dug your nails into his arms harder than before.

Unbeknownst to him, he was fucking you straight into overstimulation, you had just come in inch from your life and the stream of water was still steadily massaging your clit, and his mushroom tip was absolutely abusing your gspot.

“Su-“ you tried to speak, to tell him to at least move the shower head but he was out of it himself. The man was fucking you with reckless abandon, humping his dick into your tight walls on instinct, moans freely falling from his lips, his heavy balls making loud vulgar slaps against your ass-

He pulled out just before he came, making him drop the shower head and simultaneously releasing his hold on you, making you drop to your knees.

You looked up at him just in time when he came, his large hand caressed your face while his other stroked him through his orgasm, abs and balls clenching alike while warm spurts of cum covered your pretty face.

“Thank you- Thank you-“ He choked out between the waves of his orgasm, his head was tilted back, jaw slack and eyes squeezed shut at the intensity, you and never seen a more beautiful sight.

His legs were visibly shaking, fighting to keep himself standing as his fist squeezed out the remaining drops of his cum onto your face.

When he started to come down his next dropped to look at you, gasping, trying to catch his breath as he looked at the art he created on your beautiful face.

When the fuzziness started to fade out of his head he realized how uncomfortable he was, his slacks and button up shirt was half drenched, sticking to his skin uncomfortably from the water. His big hand came up to rub the back of his neck as he squatted in front of you, before bringing both hands down to your face using his large thumbs to rub his cum into your cheeks.

“I-“ He stopped himself, clearing his throat before leaving a soft peck on your lips, “Legs get you cleaned up,” he smiled, scooping you up and letting you wrap your limbs around him like a koala as he carried your wet bodies out of the shower.

#this one was a bit softer #what was he about to say? #i wonder #pervy roommate geto strikes again #toys are friends not foe #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu geto #geto x you #geto smut #getou suguru smut #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru #geto x y/n #geto suguru drabble #getou suguru x you #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru geto smut #getou suguru x y/n

[aajjks]

tw/ hórny èx bf, tôngúè fückïng, orál sèx (fèm!rècíèvïng) ovèrstïmulúlátïôn, hè ís à crèèp, nôncôn, èxplïcït ând nsfw thèmès.

It’s hard to break up with someone like him because he doesn’t get the hint- it’s been barely 6 days and he finds himself right in front of your door.

Really horny. And quite frankly messed up.

He bangs on your door- at first he’s gentle, but then he finds himself losing his patience when you don’t open up after a few bangs at your door, even with the bell It’s not working.

He just might have to be a little bit more aggressive with it. See now, he doesn’t like being aggressive with you. He knows that you hate this side of him. That’s why you broke up with him in the first place.

It’s not really a break up to him though because you’re just trying to break and he thinks that this break has lasted way longer than it should have in the first place. So he takes deep breath, and he starts banging at it like a maniac.

“Yn! YN OPEN UP!” But you don’t. You’re really trying to test his patience and then you try to lecture him on his aggressive nature.

His pupils are dilated at this point, he’s feeling so crazy right now, it’s aching and his pants, and he has missed you like crazy-staring at your pictures is not enough anymore. Not at all.

It’s your fault, you know.

It’s your fault that you’re so beautiful and that you have his heart in your hands… he closes his eyes for a moment, and then he takes out the spare keys he had to your apartment-of course, you don’t know about them, but he had a locksmith make them for him.

Without any rational thinking- he unlocks your apartment with ease.

And soon the familiar scent of your home hits him and your ex boyfriend finds himself relaxing, his head feels a little better now. “Yn!~~~” he calls out your name with affection but you still don’t respond.

Weird.

So he decides to check if you’re home. He really hopes that you are because he needs to talk to you and… a lot of other other things.

First to fall of course it’s gonna be your bedroom, his feet, take him to the familiar room so easily, because he remembers every single room in your home, like the back of his hand.

And to his surprise? He hears the shower running. A Cheshire Cat smile spreads across his lips. But before he can think anything else, the shower drops sounds come to a halt.

Oh, so you must be done..

He waits- by sitting on your bed and waiting for you to come out, and he doesn’t have to wait long, so he unzips his pants, creepy? He doesn’t give a fuck.

He needs to fuck you and get you back. He has everything you ever want. Quite frankly, you can be ungrateful. Anyone would kill to be in your place… but too bad he wants you.

And there you are, in all your wet glory-with a towel loosely wrapped around your body, you gasp, expected, in surprised to see him, he smirks.

Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to scream at him, he doesn’t mind you can because he’s missed your voice a lot.

“Hi baby.” He greets you. Licking his lips, because he feels himself getting harder when he stares at your soaked, freshly washed body.

You look so sexy like this I can’t help but remember all the times he would fuck you senselessly in the shower or sometimes when you were done with it.

You’re just so irresistible. You get him so horny for no reason at all. It’s your fault and now you’re going to have to help him out.

“W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” You finally say something to him, even though you’re screaming at him like a maniac, he doesn’t mind.

“I can’t help it baby you know I love you and I can’t live without you-and I’m so horny right now.” He licks his lips again, getting up from your bed to walk towards you.

He needs to touch you right now.

“I told you you couldn’t break up with me but you thought you could.. so I just wanted to give you a little break, but I think it has lasted enough now I need you back.” He groans. You smell so good even his muscles are pulsing.

His eyes are you like a predator and You should know that you cannot escape.

He is way too strong for you.

“Come on now- look at me? I’m so fucking hard because I was thinking about you- and look at you.. fuck…” he breathes out, taking you by your waist.. but then he gets another idea.

So instead of holding you, he drops to his knees.

This is gonna get you so weak for him.

“Let me eat your pussy. Missed it so much.” He looks into your eyes when he grabs your legs. You barely manage to hold onto your towel, which was about to fall. And something switches in your eyes.

You have missed him too.

He smiles. “I bet you missed me too. Fuck- baby let me have a taste please- I’m doing this to make it up to you. I know I pissed you off, so let me make it up.” He breathes, slowly, removing the towel and he starts to tease you by rubbing his hands over to your clit.

You whimper, you’ve always been so weak for him.

He knows you need him-equally as bad as he needs you. And he’s going to make you realize it tonight. He leans his face closer to your cunt, and you grab his wide shoulders for support.

“Oh look at you baby- you’ve already started to get wet.” He coos, pressing a kiss to your thigh, and then his kisses get closer to your heat, “f-fuck. You’re so fucking bad for this.” You moan out. He knows that you’re trying to reject him still even though he knows what your heart and body really want.

Him.

“I know yn.. but fuck- you’re my bad habit.” He replies before he takes one of his fingers out of your pussy and he smashes his mouth into it- his tongue starting to eat you out.

“Nghhh fuck.” You moan as he starts to tease you again with his teeth- he’s so messy right now, all sloppy as he pushes his tongue in deeper and deeper.

That’s how you like it.

His mind is in a frenzy because the noises you’re making are purely sinful- your towel gals to the ground and your back arches.

He won’t let you fall.

He will make you cum in his tongue.

“Ugh fuck..” he groans as he eagerly laps at your juices, you’re giving him so much.

And he knows you’re already going to cum.

“A-Agh fuck don’t stop- don’t fuckin stop.” You command him and grab on his locks- that arouses him anymore- you taste so fuckin good.

He can kill anyone for you.

“O-Oh fuck- baby cum on my tongue- you can do it.” He praises you- his hands on your ass as he squeezes it, you pull on his hair.

His teeth graze your clit.

“Should I fuckin bite? Since you’re so *pants* fuckin mean to me? Nah.. I love you..” he barely manages to speak because you’re suffocating him and you’re going to cum.

“You can *pants* only cum of you come back to *pants* m-me.”

BNHA- hawks, aizawa, bakugo, deku

JJK- gojo, geto, toji, sukuna

#yandere #smut #yandere jjk #yandere bnha #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere smut #boyfriend #boyfriend scenarios #jujutsu kaisen smut #boku no hero academia smut #yandere my hero academia #yandere gojo #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere au #yancore #bnha smut #jjk smut #toji smut #hawks smut #deku smut #bakugou smut

[boneblushed]

Is it chill that you’re in my head?

synopsis your best friend James isn’t sure why he’s so angry about the fact that you’re going on a date with someone else.

wc 2.6K

“He’s looking over here,” James sings under his breath, his brown eyes full of mirth. He’s balancing on the spindly hind-legs of his library chair, the Potions essay he’s supposed to be doing laid out in disarray.

You send him a reproachful look. “You’re being malicious.” When you turn back around to face Davey Gudgeon’s table, there’s a split second of eye contact before he ducks his head down abashedly, his cheeks a brilliant rouge.

He has a crush on you, apparently. Sirius and Remus had overhead him talking about it on his way down to breakfast this morning—about how prefects rarely escaped unscathed after sharing something as intimate as a Saturday night duty.

James Potter, your best friend and a royal pain in your ass, finds this revelation abso-fucking-lutely hilarious for some reason. Asshole.

“Au contraire,” he murmurs, the grin on his face audible, “I’m being a world class wingman.”

The look on his face is downright dangerous. He waggles his eyebrows at you suggestively, unperturbed by the frown on your own, a warning. Easing forward until each hind-leg finds the ground with a resounding thud, he cups his hands around his mouth, whisper-shouting, “Oi! Gudgeon!”

Davey Gudgeon reddens further, a feat you didn’t think was possible until now. He glances over at James dismally, a furtive expression on his face. “What?” He mouthes, sending you this weak half-smile. It’s sort of sweet, almost contagious. You find yourself smiling back at him on instinct.

“Come over here, you bludger,” James chastises, like that’s the obvious next step. To be fair, it probably is to him — he’s never shied away from flirting with the girls he fancies, a self-proclaimed dating aficionado with way too much chat for his own good.

Davey hesitates, his nervous gaze flitting to you momentarily. He looks as though he wants to do just that, but isn’t sure whether his crush on you is reciprocated. Sweet.

He has gentle eyes, too, pretty juniper with bright specks of burnt ochre. A nice head of brown hair. If it was cold outside, you bet he’d offer you his Quidditch jersey without hesitation.

You think you need sweet, all things considered. You’ve known James Potter all of seven years now, had a wretched crush on him all of five, and never once has he indicated that his aforementioned expertise could ever extend to you.

It’s high-time that you gave your pathetic heart a rest.

“You’re making him miserable,” you mutter, ever-reproachful.

Davey hasn’t moved yet, though you’re sure he wants to, his hands braced on the table in front of him apprehensively. He keeps looking between you and James, surveying his options; in order ease his anguish, you decide you’d better make the decision for him.

You push your chair back and stand up, it’s spindly legs scraping against the vinyl floor forebodingly. James looks up in surprise. “Where r’you going?”

“To Gudgeon’s table.”

“Why?” James urges, perplexed. He half-stands too, his features a smidge less mirthful than before.

“So you’ll stop,” you reply, frowning down at him.

He raises his arms in surrender. “I’m stopping.” A pause. In the beat that passes, his assessing gaze falls over you in paces. “You’re not… you’re not keen on him too, are you?”

You think on this, cocking your head to one side. “I don’t know. Maybe? He’s kinda sweet.”

“But he doesn’t even have the balls to come over here and ask you out properly,” James whisper-shouts, mildly exasperated.

You’ve never once called him sweet.

He’s had this tragic crush on you for all of seven years, and never once has he been on the receiving end of such a fond adjective. He’d only made a fuss over this Davey situation because he was sure it was just a jibe — no way someone like you would be interested in a guy like Gudgeon, no way you would even entertain the possibility of more than friends.

Right?

James wants that more than friends thing with you, bad. This morning, when Sirius’d brought up Bludgeon’s crush on you—sniggering violently—he’d snuck a glance at your features to ensure that it wasn’t reciprocated. He’s sure he’d caught a bit of second-hand embarrassment, though maybe it was actually just tender hearted diffidence. Maybe Davey fucking Gudgeon had something that he somehow didn’t.

Right now, James’d give up his head boy badge and Quidditch captaincy to acquire that something. His chest hurts terribly. He runs his sloven fingers through his unkempt hair, sending you another look of bewilderment.

“Because you’re here,” you reprove. “Course he’s not going to come over when the James Potter is taking the mickey out of him.”

You say his name like it’s an insult. James’ heart plummets. “I’m not — he’s welcome to come over,” he argues quietly, chagrined. “Besides, he’s going to have to get used to me if he wants to be your boyfriend.”

“Why?” You frown. “I always bugger off when you’re with another girl.”

“That’s different,” James insists, frowning in tandem.

“How’s that different?”

They aren’t you, James thinks vaguely. His poor heart blunders for the umpteenth time this afternoon. “None of them are girlfriends.”

“Not for lack of trying,” you mutter. James swears he hears a hint of spite in your tone. “Doesn’t matter, anyway. M’going over.”

James slumps back into his seat reluctantly. He knows that you’re right, begrudging as that revelation may be — he is always flirting with one girl or another, though that’s more so to pass time than anything particularly serious. Never you. You’d see right through him, anyway. Besides, the last time he tried, it’d been so disastrous you’d assumed he was joking.

It’d been at that Halloween party they’d had in the Gryffindor Common Room last year, firewhiskey flowing and sweet treats piled atop every surface.

You were wearing this gorgeous, albeit bemusing, costume of a Muggle someone — Wonder Woman, or something, James didn’t quite understand it. Showing a lot of skin. Your pretty eyes were accented by rouge glitter, lips all glossy, and your exposed limbs and bare waist had eased his heart right into his throat.

And James Potter didn’t often find himself lost for words, but it appeared as though this party was one of those exceptions.

“Woah,” he’d murmured, wolf-whistling lowly. He was in this ridiculous, Babbity Rabbity costume (courtesy of Sirius, who was a cackling pot), feeling entirely out of place when you looked so beautiful. “Christ, Y/N, who’re you meant to be? The hottest muggleborn at Hogwarts or something?”

You’d rolled your eyes then, because no way he was serious. “Don’t tease, James. Did you guys manage to snag any cauldron cakes?”

He’d been too busy to insist his sincerity, fond gaze travelling down your bare limbs, slow. Lingering on the wafer of exposed waist between your corset and skirt. He’s still agonised by the want to touch your soft skin; that wretched Hogwarts shirt tuck has prevented this from happening.

“By the fire,” he’d answered after a beat, dazed.

And when you’d fallen out of earshot, James’ eyes still trained on your figure, Sirius and Remus’d come up behind him, the latter wearing Muggle-manufactured fangs. (Supposedly, he was meant to be a vampire.)

“You’ve got a tragic affliction, James,” Sirius’d tutted under his breath, faux-apologetic. “How’re you somehow able to flirt with every girl in this room except the one that matters?”

“Shut up,” he’d muttered back at the time, though as he thinks back on it now, he realises that Sirius was right.

For some reason, with you, he always manages to say exactly the wrong thing. He watches Davey scramble to straighten as you near his library table, the heat on his neck rising until his entire face is in a flush. And you’re smiling as you sit down beside him, this sweet, unabashed smile that looks too much like feelings reciprocated. Something in James’ ribcage cracks, an ugly emotion springing forth from within it. But he’s immobile, hands on the table and furrow in his brow, agonised by the fact that you’re looking at Davy all fond, not him.

Never him. You ask a question—James is trying his best to lip-read, but it’s difficult not to get carried away staring at your mouth. Davey nods, and then reddens some more. Then you stand up, feelings-reciprocated smile on your face as you walk back over to the table you’re sharing with James.

“He looks pleased,” James mutters grumpily.

You frown. “You don’t.”

“You’re doing charity work,” he answers, ignoring the insinuation. “You know that, right?”

“James,” you sigh, “you’re being unkind.”

“Because he’s punching.” But James knows this is unfair. He’s pretty sure every bloke in Hogwarts would be, if it was you and them.

—

“James,” Sirius calls, bemused. “You coming mate?”

Its autumn in Hogsmeade, and they’ve reached a cross roads.

The path to the left of them leads to the Hog’s Head Inn, one of their favourite haunts in the village due to its relative unpopularity. To the right, where James is glancing furtively, the cobblestone pavement takes them toward the Three Broomsticks. Where you are. With Davey.

Remus shares a knowing look with Sirius. “Think he’s in the mood for one of Rosmerta’s butter-beers, actually.”

James groans, scrubbing his calloused palm down his face slovenly. He knows exactly what he’s insinuating; Remus always has been the most astute of the lot. “Don’t bloody start.”

Sirius grins then, reaching for James and throwing an arm around his neck. “Reckon you’re going to need something stronger than butter-beer if you’re planning on watching Gudgeon snog your girl.”

His heart plummets. There’s that ugly emotion again, rearing its contemptuous head at him. “Wormtail’s there too,” he tries, shoving Sirius off. “We should go say hi.”

“Oh yes,” Sirius allows, his brown eyes full of mischief. “The one Marauder with a girlfriend. You after some tips, mate?”

“Cut him some slack, Sirius,” Remus chastises, though there isn’t much fire to his tone as he says it. “Reckon he’s miserable enough about the fact that the one time he fancies a girl she isn’t interested.”

James frowns, sending the pair of them a look of determination. “Look, shove off, both of you.” The crease between his eyebrows deepens further, keenly resolute. “I just want to check on her, alright? Make sure that bludger isn’t pulling anything funny.”

“Right.” Sirius nods soberly. “Or snogging her to death.”

“Fuck,” James groans again, his insides squirming. “You’ve gotta stop putting that image in my head.”

He turns toward the path to his right, the cobblestones plush with Autumn leaves, when he spots your figure in the distance and freezes. Coming closer. You look beautiful in this matter-of-fact, effortless way that makes James’ heart stutter; your pretty eyes are alight with mirth as you catch his gaze, this fond smile on your lips that makes him want to kiss you. Bad. He swallows thickly, his chest a pathetic mess.

Sirius and Remus must spot you too, because the pair of them beginning walking backward toward the Hog’s head, their eyebrows raised in tandem.

“She isn’t with the bludger, Prongs,” calls Sirius, a knowing lilt to his tone. “Now’s your chance.”

“My chance?” James asks, distracted.

“To snog her, you idiot.”

But James doesn’t hear him. Partly because the wind’s picked up, mostly because it’s difficult for him to concentrate on anything but your growing closeness.

Once you’re within earshot—more of you to agonise over, exposed waifs of skin like a siren song—he stumbles forward clumsily.

“Y/N,” James breathes out, pleasantly surprised. “Where’s Davey?”

You grimace, looking over your shoulder furtively. “I’ve just escaped him.”

James’ stomach deflates, relief washing over him in waves. He raises his eyebrows playfully. “Escaped?”

“Don’t,” you warn, frowning sternly. “He… he’s alright, really. Just doesn’t really know how to hold a conversation.” You grimace again. “Or take a hint. Like, at all.”

“Yeah? Why’d you say that?”

“Well,” you begin, and then you shiver, moving closer to James without meaning to. “Christ, Potter, you’re a really good wind shield, y’know that?”

“At your service,” he murmurs, inching forward too. “You were saying?”

You gaze up at him, the rough planes of his face ever present, and you’re struck by the revelation that he doesn’t need an old Quidditch jersey to keep you warm. He’s a furnace of body heat and cedar-wood cologne.

“Well,” you continue, voice low, “after two butter beers and absolutely zero chat, I’d sort of assumed that he’d have realised that this just isn’t going to work.”

“But…?”

“But,” you grimace, “he asked me out again.”

The way your features twist as you say it, as though that’s the last thing you want to do, wrings any residual jealousy he may be feeling right out of his stomach. He’s struck by this suddenly, overwhelming urge to caress your jaw and pull you closer.

“And let me guess,” James murmurs, grinning fondly. “You said yes.”

“I said I’ll see.”

“I worry all this charity work’s going to be the death of you, Y/N.”

You crinkle your nose up at him, punching his chest playfully. “Don’t you start James Potter.”

James raises his arms in surrender, still grinning. His gaze lifts above your head to take in the footpath behind you, and he finds himself looking right at the burly figure of Davey Gudgeon trudging toward the pair of you.

“Bloody hell,” he mutters, raising his eyebrows. “You weren’t kidding about him not being able to take a hint, huh?”

You furrow your brow, looking over your shoulder bemusedly. When your head whips back around to face him, your eyes are wide and a little tortured, dappled by the warm, orange hues of Autumn. A damsel, James’ thinks, dazed, as if that’s a normal thought for a eighteen-year-old bloke to have. He’s already spiralling over kissing you and it’s been all of five minutes.

“Is he looking over here?” You ask, your voice low.

James’ eyes dart back to Davey. “Uh, yeah?”

“Good.”

You wrap your arms around his neck hurriedly, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. James takes a second to recalibrate, his poor heart a mess, but when he does, he’s quick to circle your waist and pull you closer, his strong arms firm and torso warm on your figure. It’s a deft kiss, chaste as it is agonising, though kiss enough for him to memorise the feeling. The buttery taste of your lips, the perfect way they appear to mould against his.

It’s a tandem emotion — you’ve revelling in this kiss far more than you should, the arduous pressure of James’ lips on your own. He’s going to leave a mark. He tastes like sugar quills and feels like the death of you, his sloven hands pressing into the bare skin of your waist.

When you do finally pull away, your cheeks are warm and you’re a little breathless. “S’he still there?”

A beat passes. James doesn’t look up.

You mistake his pause for unease, and grimace abashedly, looking away from him. In hindsight, you aren’t sure what possessed you to kiss him like that — you want to pretend it was to stave Davey away, but your traitorous heart says otherwise.

God, you think, it was a really good kiss. If only James liked it as much as you did.

If only you knew.

“Sorry,” you add in a hurry, still grimacing. “I — I wasn’t thinking, I just didn’t want Davey to come over here and I —”

“Y/N,” James interrupts, his voice rough, gravelly around the edges. “Stop talking.”

You let out a breath. “Why?”

“I want to pretend you kissed me because you wanted to, just for one more second.”

“What?” You ask, your eyes wide. “Why?”

James thinks, isn’t it obvious? He’s still marvelling over how perfect your mouth is.

“Because,” he admits quietly, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

You don’t know what to say to this. Your still chest to chest with less than an inch between your figures, and you can feel your poor heart struggling to free itself from its cage. “You have?” You say, suddenly bashful.

James nods. His pupils are a little blown, his unkempt hair a mess, and he keeps his gaze trained on your lips as though he’s being paid for it. “And listen,” he murmurs, reaching forward to thumb over them softly. “Don’t worry about Davey Gudgeon.”

“Why not, James Potter?”

“Because I’d sooner die than let that bludger bore my girl to death again.”

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