#who's in OK or willing to drive here

[sergle]

Ah fuck ah shit we found a kitten again

dude screaming his LUNGS out in front of some random building in lawton. literally just screaming as loud as possible. his plan to cry for help worked flawlessly.

#he's so sweet and so loosy-goosy Whateva I Can Adapt #we're not keeping bc I believe our house is. At. Capacity. #I'm looking for lost/founds with no luck but maybe I'll post again later asking if anyone wants him #who's in OK or willing to drive here #if you wanna get the jump on that then dm me but otherwise it may come later #he's SO sweet #sergle.txt #he doesn't have a swollen tummy from worms or any ribs sticking out from malnutrition so I feel like he was an indoor kitten and slipped ou #somehow. and got lost #if he was just a stray I'd expect him to be a little more shy or a little skinnier... no evidence of worms either

[hungharrington]

Could I request something from the prompt you reblogged:

“I had a dream about you last night. Woke up hard/wet. Wanna hear about it?”

kitchen counters (kisses, and more)

this was hard to think of a sitch! it's a bit weird (?) but also a bit goofy at times, which i love and i hope u love anon! not any warnings needed, it's hot consensual sex except they don't use a condom but we know this is fiction and we should totally use those things irl. ok be safe and enjoy <3 2.8k words. minors do not interact.

It’s a bit of a strange morning, being here in Steve’s kitchen when you haven’t spent the night.

Not for lack of want, mind you. You hadn’t been able to is all, some family event that rolled way too late into the evening. And even though you know Steve would’ve come and picked you up if you asked, even at some point past midnight, you didn’t want to ask that of him. You knew he’d had a long day. Steve tried to insist he’d sleep better with you beside him.

“I don’t want you driving, s’all,” you said into the receiver last night, your tone apologetic. “It’s just, it’s late and you’re tired. I’ll come over in the morning, okay?”

“You promise?” Steve grumbled back. He never was in the chirpiest of moods when he went home to empty sheets. 

“Pinky.” 

And you followed through, driving over as soon as you could after your wake-up. Your own spare key lets you into the house and it’s only mildly surprising to find it quiet. The kitchen is empty, lights off. 

You think of your boyfriend, who must be still asleep upstairs, and take a couple steps up the stairs, and— ah, there it is. The sound of the shower. If you strain your ears, you can hear his faint rendition of a George Michael song. It makes you grin.

You head for the kitchen anyways, flipping on the lights as you go— it’s a bit later than Steve’s usually up but you’re willing to bet that without you there to bug him awake, he’s dozed past his usual alarm.

There are Eggos in the fridge, enough for both of you, and fill the toaster with them, pressing the lever down. You begin brewing the coffee, the scent of it percolating the air and it’s nearly ready by the time you hear Steve coming down the stairs.

He appears in the doorway, shower towel still hung around his shoulders, his chest bare. You automatically dip your gaze to drink up the sight of his chest, a mixture of love and lust competing in your chest. His hair is shaggy and wet. He’s scrubbing the back of it with the towel but he pauses, delighting at the sight of you.

“I thought I heard you,” He smiles easily, and you meet him in the middle when he comes over for a kiss. His hands circle your waist. You press up on your toes and hold his face gently, pressing your sweetest good morning onto his lips. Steve hums. His eyes are still closed when you pull back.

They flutter open and he smiles again, blindingly handsome. “Missed you last night,” he says, pulling you closer by your waist. “And this morning too.”

Your heart sings just a bit, your thumb stroking lovingly across his cheekbone. “I bet you did, handsome.”

Steve raises his brows like he thinks you don’t believe him and his hands slither down, nearing the curve of your ass as suggestiveness creeps in his tone. “Uh huh. Even had a dream about you last night.”

His head ducks into the curve of your neck, lips ghosting along your throat as he continues, voice still husky from his sleep. “Woke up hard.”

His body pressing into you confirms that his high-running hormones haven’t managed to dim in the time between his dream and now — his cock is half-hard, nudging against your thigh. You can’t help the way you shiver when he kisses your neck, wet and warm, and murmurs, “Wanna hear about it?”

He’s a bastard. That’s the first thought in your mind as his kiss turns harsher, suckling at the skin of your neck in a way that weakens your knees — he’s a bastard who knows exactly what he’s doing. Your hands slip from his jaw to his shoulders, clutching them a little tighter. You try to pull yourself together.

“Something tells me you’re gonna tell me anyways.” You remark, a pant already making your words sound a little gaspier.

Damn, he makes you needy. Your head falls back and you let him nibble along your neck, feeling your arousal sparking — and catching fire quick, burning low in your stomach.

“Mm, I could,” Steve replies, between his lovebites. His cock has gotten harder, his hips lightly grinding against you to work it the right way. You keen into his touches. “Or… I could show you?”

Your hands move to tug his face up, out of your neck, and you kiss him, hard. Steve groans appreciatively into the kiss, beginning to walk the two of you backward til his back hits the counter. He uses the leverage to pull you closer, his knee nudging between your thighs — your cunt pulses hotly as you grind down against his thigh, lust licking hot at your spine.

“Mhm, definitely…” Steve starts, words tumbling out between his kisses. His teeth scrape your bottom lip, tongue soothing along after. “Definitely started like this.”

“Oh yeah?” You huff, giving a pleasurable shudder when the seam of your jeans lines up just right, rubbing rough right on your clit. A breathy moan escapes you and pushes into Steve’s lips, sealed in your kiss.

Not breaking his kiss, Steve’s hands grip your hips, his knee nudging higher as he pulls down to grind on him again — another bolt of pleasure pulls a moan from you as you clench around nothing. For a hot minute, you two play this game; Steve dedicating himself to your bottom lip, kisses hot and hands wandering, while you rub against his thigh needily. You reach a breaking point eventually.

“Steve,” you pull back from your sloppy kiss to whine, unsure exactly what you’re asking from him.

Face more flushed than before, Steve eyes you hungrily, lips swollen from your steamy kisses. He pulls your hips forward once again, groaning at the reaction it gets him— another pitiful whine, your hands on his neck flexing.

“God, you’re a fuckin’ angel,” He muses, more to himself. He bites his lower lip and takes a second to compose himself before his fingers take a walk, eyes tracing the path they take along the edge of your jeans. Steve pauses at the button, eyes flicking up to your face, eyebrows raising an inch.

“Take ‘em off?” He asks.

“In the kitchen?” You counter, sounding a bit appalled. Not that you and Steve have ever been restricted to the bedroom, but, well….

The Eggos in the toaster pop right at that moment as if to prove your point. You and Steve's heads both whip to the side to look at it and there's a moment of silence. Steve giggles first and you join in quickly, leaning into him. The noise tapers off and when you look back to Steve, you think about the night you would've had if you hadn't been held back.

You don't owe it to him, but you certainly are eager to find out the contents of his dream.

Stepping back out of his hold, you pull your shirt off swiftly. Next, you unbutton your jeans and shimmy them down your legs, kicking them off. Your legs prickle in the sudden coolness. You enjoy the wide-eyed boyish joy on Steve's face maybe a bit too much. He clearly wasn't sure he'd convinced you.

“You did say you'd show me what happened in this dream." You say, hooking your thumbs into your panties, like you're about to work them down your legs next. You pause, tilt your head, the fire in your belly fueled by Steve's greedy gaze drinking you in, "Or do you want to be the one to take these off?"

Steve growls, stepping forward and capturing your lips with his. It's fast and messy, his lips taking and taking, hands raking fast across your body as he lets desire run free. One hand kneads at your breast, pinching lightly at the peaking nipple beneath your shirt, stirring up heat within you. The other hand delves down, down, pushes gently into your panties.

A gasp stutters out of you as he runs his middle finger along your slit, gathering the wetness welling from your entrance. The pad of his fingers drags your slick forward, searching for your clit and you're nearly embarrassed by the hiccupy whimpering noise you make when he finds it.

"There?" Steve says, though his finger has already started to circle it, treacherously slow motions. You nod, your hand slipping and grasping his bicep tightly, giving a sweet sigh of pleasure. "Oh, good girl."

The praise sinks into your skin and you can feel yourself getting wetter, another futile clench of your cunt around nothing.

"Y'think you can handle my cock?" Steve murmurs lowly, checking in with you. He meanly speeds up his soft rubs on your clit as he asks, nearly making it impossible to answer for a minute, but you manage another nod, swallowing your noises for a moment.

"Yes," You say, voice nearly a whisper. Your breathing comes out in soft little pants, chest heaving. "Yes, yes, please, Steve."

Steve hums, pulling his hand from your panties and reaching for his own pants, the buckle clinking as he undoes his belt clumsily. His jeans pool at his ankles, kicked off in the direction of your own, and for a moment, it makes you laugh — two pairs of crumpled jeans on your kitchen floor all because of Steve's horny sleeping brain.

"So," you say, glancing for a moment at his tenting boxers. It makes you salivate just a bit. "How do you want me? How did the dream go?"

You emphasize the word dream, bending over to rest your forearms on one of the counters, sticking your ass out behind you tantalizingly. Steve's eyes stare intensely, chest rising and falling as he steps closer — his hands fall onto your lower back, dragging down lightly, til his fingertips curl under the elastic of your panties.

"Mhmm," He drags them further, revealing the swell of your ass and hot cunt and releasing a resounding groan of appreciation. He sounds breathless when he says, "Just... fuck, just like this."

Your panties gather round your ankles and you step out of them. Behind you, you can hear the sound of his boxers dropping, one warm hand leaving your skin for just a second. It's back in an instant, both his hands shifting down again, spreading your cunt wide for him.

Steve lets out another raspy groan, one of his thumbs coming down to play in the well of slickness building at your hole — your head tips forward with a shaky pleasured sigh of relief.

"Oh, so wet for me already." He says, bordering a tease. You resist the urge to wriggle your hips, to push back and see if he'll relent and touch you more. "Already so messy, huh?"

His light tone of mock twines up your desire and tugs it harshly, your cunt clenching with a whine so loud you nearly don’t hear his chuckle. You're nearly dizzy with relief when the next touch is his cock, nudging against your hot entrance lightly. One hand holds your hip.

Steve goes easy, sinking into you tortuously slow til his thighs meet the back of yours, a sighing moan scraping out his throat as he does. You keen, a strained mewl pushing out your throat as you get filled— so full it aches deliciously, aches for more.

“Ste— fuck,” His name is stolen from your mouth in a gasp, your hands gripping the counter as he pulls his hips back slow, the drag so so fucking delectable. Shit.

Steve rolls his hips forward, pushing back in gently and he pauses again, giving you a moment — even as you tremble and huff out high little noises, clearly enjoying yourself. Warmth spreads across your back as he leans over, pressing himself against your back and his cock further in. There’s a soft kiss on your spine, then another.

“Fuck,” he breathes heavily, breath fanning across your back. He gives another leisurely roll of his hips, a gentle fuck into your heat. You can feel his cock twitch inside you as your cunt clamps down on him. Another whiney noise passes your lips, heat curling up tight in your lower tummy. “Fuck, s’like you’re made for me. Like this pussy was just made for me.”

“Stevie,” you plead, managing to get the word out this time. There’s another ghost of his lips along your skin, then his arm shifts, wriggling under your tummy. He scoops it around your middle, hand pushing up between your breasts to rest on your sternum. Still folded atop you, Steve finally begins to move, hips pumping his cock in and out, faster and faster.

You squeal, body humming like a livewire as Steve finally fucks you, the soft squelch of your cunt sucking him in filling the kitchen. Steve’s chest burns hotly where it’s pressed to your back and you can hear every grunt that pairs with the snap of his hips, his hand on your hip and his arm under you pulling you back to meet every thrust.

Your eyes slip closed, little uh, uh, uh’s coming from your pretty mouth mixed with whimpers of Steve’s name. You’re stretched up on your toes, trying to get the angle that only Steve has ever found. Your core is burning with desire, a throbbing growing in your clit.

“You’re- shit, you’re better than a dream, sweetheart.” Steve grunts, hips never slowing his motions. The stretch of his cock has gone by now but the shape of his hard cock feels like he’s moulding your insides — and you love it.

“Nothing beats this pussy, mm. Nothing,” He drags out the word with a groan, breath coming out in hot pants against your back. “Beats fucking my girl.”

You’re nodding, beginning to feel too fucked out to even think of words. Steve’s hand shifts your hips up and you know he’s looking for that spot inside you— because you can feel his grin against your spine when you whine loudly when the head of his cock finds it.

“Oh, is that the spot?” Steve asks, voice dripping in condescension. You nod frantically. He starts to bully it with his cock, every fast thrust hitting it over and over, til nothing but the melted words of more and please leave your mouth in a drooling ramble. You’re whimpering and whining, cunt drooling all over his cock, down your thighs.

“That’s it, honey.” The words come out a bit choppy like Steve’s own orgasm was rearing its head and his hand moves off your hip — deftly finding your clit. You make a pathetic moan of his name as he circles it harshly, quick circles with the pads of his fingers.

“Fuckfuckfuck, Steve— uh, fuck,” You’re spewing anything that comes to your brain, your hips rocking back to meet Steve’s hard thrusts instinctively as you chase your high.

“Shit, honey,” Steve moans, voice climbing higher and breathier. His hips begin to jackhammer, stuttering as his orgasm tips over — a whiney string of curses sung into your skin as he fucks into your wet, hot cunt, hot cum dribbling from his cock inside you.

You’re desperate now, teetering close to your own edge but not quite there. “Stevie, please,” you cry. His fingers on your clit which had slowed regain their speed, his hips picking back up as he begins his murmurs to you.

“C’mon, honey, you’re so close, can feel this pussy sucking me in.“ He whispers hotly, his hand on your sternum moving to grope at your breast, fingers twisting at your nipple. “Want you to cum for me, okay? Please fucking cum for me.”

You don’t get a lot of choice with his cock drilling into you, pushing that sweet spot enough that your orgasm finally builds and melts — a strangled whiney moan of his name warbles out of you, instantly met with Steve’s praises, murmurs of how good you are for him. It feels like every nerve is alight, turning over and pulsing as the waves of pleasure ride out in your body.

You exhale, trying to catch your breath as you half melt into the counter, finally lowering off your tiptoes as you relax in the post-haze. Steve eases his cock out of you, the quietest wince, and you give yourself another minute before you drag yourself up, beginning to look for your abandoned panties. A thought strikes you.

“So,” you pant, leaning back against the counter; you’ll definitely need to sanitise that later. Steve’s rescued his boxers, tugging them up as he raises his brows to indicate he’s listening to your question. “How’d we do on the dream recreation?” You ask.

Steve grins cheekily. “Oh, in my dream we fucked on the couch.”

#jay writes #steve harrington x reader #steve smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington smut

[shikai-the-storyteller]

A lot of people (including some QSMP members) are theorizing that the Eggs are evil or are being controlled by the Federation, but I disagree. Even if the Eggs are somehow acting as spies or agents of the Federation, I don't think it's willing and I don't think they know it. Why?

Because of Chayanne.

moti_otp on Twitter made a thread that compiled ALL of Chayanne and Richarlyson's signs from their conversation (Phil's May 3 VOD, Timestamp 3h 7m). Here's the transcript:

Richarlyson: How are you Chayanne?

Chayanne: I'M OKAY Richarlyson and you?

Richarlyson: I am great!! Happy to meet you but I am concerned about my dad's plans.

Chayanne: I'll ask you some questions is that ok?

Richarlyson: Sure :D

Chayanne: What are your dad's plans?

Richarlyson: They plan on building the biggest favela in the server :D

Starts innocently enough, right? Chayanne knows Forever is one of Richarlyson's dads, and he knows Forever is interested (a little too interested) in Phil, so it's normal that he wants more information.

But then it takes a turn.

Chayanne: Where do you come from?

[No response is given]

Chayanne: How many people do you know on this island?

Richarlyson: Uncle Fit, Roier, and Foolish Bobby and Leo and now you

Chayanne: Do you want to hurt anyone?

Richarlyson: Just bulls they broke my egg rights

[Context: they lost their first life to a bull]

Chayanne: Why I never saw you before?

Richarlyson: There was not enough Brazilian aura (the ship was late bc don't know how to drive boats)

Chayanne: How long have you been here?

[No response is given]

There are a few things we need to keep in mind here: Richardlyson isn't one of the original eggs. Like Tallulah, he conveniently happened to show up right when a new Egg was needed... but his appearance was a little too convenient.

Chayanne: give me 3 reasons why I should trust you

Richarlyson: I have style :D

Chayanne: Should I keep an eye on your dad? Did someone else arrive with you? Or are you alone?

Richarlyson: I… maybe!! But if he gets mad he would probably try to take down any mountain nearby he is dangerous for the nature

Unlike some of the other Eggs on the server who (canonically) only know a little bit about what's going on (either through osmosis, overhearing things, or getting information directly from their parents), Chayanne knows more about what's going on on the Island than most for one simple reason: Phil trusts him.

Any information Phil learns, he tells Chayanne. At first I was a little worried, but as time goes on, it seems more and more like Phil had the right idea. He wants Chayanne to be careful and be prepared for the worst, especially since Chayanne only has 1 life left ("Living Hardcore mode"), and Chayanne has taken this to heart.

A lot's going on right now and everyone's a little big suspicious, but I think Chayanne has proven where his loyalties lie.

Bonus:

Chayanne: Why does your dad wants to date my dad?

Richarlyson: I think… 2 things 1. He's a bit*h 2. He is crazy

Chayanne: My dad is happy married to my dad Missa thank you

Richarlyson: He is cheating.

#QSMP #Chayanne #Philza #Phil #QSMP Eggs #QSMP Talk #i talk #ANNNND NOW ITS TIME FOR BED #wanted to get this one out though after I saw that thread

[kneelingshadowsalome]

God the idea of Simon having a s/o that's like wayyy shorter than him something like 5'5 is doing things to me. This man is 6'4 something and he's HUGEEE AF, like i think it would be a turn on for him, having his babe so small underneath him. And i don't even need to get into how probably big he is down there too? The struggle to take him in everytime but the afterwards is a pure bliss. Ugh.

Like, i agree with what you said, this man is an epitome of masculinity. And the need and want to take care, love and protect his mate. <3 <3

Mmm. Mmmm.

Ok I'm just gonna leave this here.

Original photo: @ S0CIALHUNTER on Twitter

This is not a Drill

Word count: 2.2 k

Tags/warnings: SMUT 🔞, a dash of fluff, size kink (obviously), size difference, swearing, premature ejaculation, penetrative sex toy. F!Reader.

A/N: Gaahh. No poetry this time. Just pure filth. Enjoy 🍽

This might just be one of your better ideas.

You've done this in secret for two weeks now, hoping by the time he arrives, you'll be able to surprise him with how well you've trained yourself to receive him.

If you can take a large toy so well, day after day, it should help with taking him in more easily too. Right?

As in, take in the biggest dick you've ever had and, god willing, will ever have.

You're actually quite proud of yourself. Not only does this thing keep you juicy, but it also makes you thirst for him even more. The need to have something even bigger inside you, the knowledge that he can provide that bigger thing, makes your lips purse, makes your walls throb as you remind yourself that tomorrow, your man will finally come home.

…Except that the stealthy fucker has chosen to arrive a day early. You don't even hear him before he's at your bedroom door. Fuck his profession, fuck all that experience in sneaking around, even with all that mass…

He comes in just in time to see how the said dong comes out, slick with your wetness.

Oh shit–

"Well. What do we have here?"

He looks at the brutal object in your hand, then raises his eyes to you – flustered you, lying all naked and throbbing and flushed on the bed. He can barely hold back a smile, but it's his eyes that laugh with an amused gleam.

"Careful or you'll hurt yourself with that thing."

That's some cheese coming from someone who's even bigger than the crude thing in your hand…

"You said you'd come tomorrow," you mewl as your excuse. He cocks his head a little, raises an eyebrow.

"Disappointed?"

"No, of course not, but–"

"You want help with that?"

He gives a side eye to the toy still in your hand. You blink a few times, then reach to set it somewhere, anywhere – the bedside table has to do, but you're too clumsy, and the toy drops to the floor and rolls at his feet.

Jesus, could things get any more embarrassing?

He examines the sorry thing with a stare that says How pathetic. Because even if to you, it's gigantic, it's nothing compared to what he's got in those pants. And he knows it too.

"Now ain't this convenient. I can go straight in, right?"

"I– I'm not sure," you breathe with anticipation.

"Let's give it a try then."

He doesn't even wait for your admission, which would only be a blaring, blazing Yes please sir. He doesn't trouble himself with undressing, merely crawls to the bed and over you.

He pulls back only to get himself out of those jeans, and it always looks like he's drawing out a massive weapon. Even in his hands, which are fucking huge, the cock looks like an oversized beast. He's fully hard, too, probably started to gather blood there the minute he saw you on that bed, puny and shy and caught red-handed.

And he's as impatient as can be: finally, there's a chance he can drive that cock right in, that he doesn't have to warm you up for half an hour with mouth and fingers and hear you cry when it still takes a few tears and some swearing as he guides it inside.

But the toys are no help, it seems. The massive head of his cock disappears in you, alright… But that doesn't mean it feels safe or sound.

"Oh, no. No, no."

He halts, hovering over you with just the tip inside, pulsing wildly.

"No?"

Ugh, why did you have to pick the biggest colossus of a man to be your fuck buddy for the rest of your life?

"Just… slowly, ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah."

He swallows and gets back to it, more slowly this time, and the spread is delicious – but it's also blinding, and you always have to remind yourself to keep breathing.

You just need to relax; it can fit, it has been there dozens of times before…

"Fuck, you're– you're even tighter down here," he groans with a dry throat and a heavy accent that makes you instantly clench around him.

It appears that you have only managed to train your inner muscles with that ridiculous dildo.

So much for trying to coax yourself open with toys…

He feeds more of that thickness in, in, in, until his balls make contact; they press against your flesh while your pussy hugs him with a perfect O shape. You bite your lip and hold your breath, and you're not the only one gaping at the scene in mild shock and admiration.

"Look at that…"

He doesn't even bother to tone down the drunken arousal in his voice which always drops down a few notes when he's fucking you. But every now and then, it's tinged with concern. How the hell can you even take him fully in?

He glances your way with the smallest smile playing at the corner of his mouth, muscles taut with anticipation. The man simply can't wait to ruin you.

"You ready?"

No…??

You give him a frail little nod and some high-pitched, broken whimpers from your mouth.

"Uh-huh?"

He chuckles, then withdraws, slowly… But the next thrust is not that gentle, and your brows knit together in pleasure and pain. Well, it's not exactly pain, just… It's a little too much. If the angle was even slightly off, it would hurt. The wetness no doubt helps this business, but you still find your teeth sinking into your lower lip again – he starts to roll his hips, fuck you with experimental thrusts that, blessedly, don't plunge too deep.

You feel your inner walls both accommodate him and tighten around him; greedy, like it's no problem at all to have far too big a shaft stuffed down there. And not just crammed, but plowing: back and forth like you're a toy, too.

"What in the bloody hell have you been doing…"

He detects the tense muscles that pull him in every time he reaches the base. You're too small for him; that fact was established long ago. But added with the clenching and throbbing pulse of your cunt, a fervor that tries to suck him like he's a fat stick of candy cane makes his jaw gradually fall open. The man looks like he's going to pass out.

"Were you doing that shit for me?"

You smile and flutter your lashes innocently, all the while a giant is trying to work his giant cock in you.

"Yup. Welcome home, I guess?"

He looks at you, not with mirth, but with reproof. You're playing with fire, toying with a sharp blade, and teasing a man of his size might not be the best of your ideas.

But that's exactly what you are; a goddamn tease. You just can't help it. You know he gets an equal kick out of this setting: of you being so small. Anyone is small compared to him, but you're small compared to anyone. Next to him–not to talk under him–you look like a helpless doll.

And perhaps that's what this is all about: perhaps one of these days, you want him to wreck you.

Use you.

Even the very thought makes your cunt wrap around him again. Massive thighs at least twice the size of yours force your legs wide apart as he goes deeper – so deep that you can feel those balls again, hefty slaps against you as he tries to bury himself inside a place he's not meant to fit.

You always wonder what you look like under him, disappearing entirely under a dark shadow and hundreds of pounds of muscle. Spreading your thighs to offer too tight a slit to what's practically a monster. It must always be forced inside with sweat, patience, and needy grunts. How insane it must look for that thing to disappear inside you again and again until you're loaded with him… His cum never stays inside before you reach the shower, but the feel of it running down your thighs is absolutely glorious.

You notice he slows down the pace, which is odd. Normally, he's fucking you with abandon at this point.

"What's wrong?"

He huffs above you, chest swelling with shallow, alarmed breaths.

"Wrong? What's right, more like…"

He resumes with a thrust or two, looks down to where you are joined, and lets out an aggravated groan.

"I'm sorry, I can't…" He draws back as if to pull out completely, and you whine a complaint. A decision is made right away; he sinks back inside, fills you again and again, until…

"I think I'm gonna cum," he informs with apologetic alarm.

Oh.. Right.

… Already?

"It's ok… it's ok," you sweep your hands up his back, clutch him to make it known that he can collapse like a tower upon you, and you would only feel enthusiastic about getting buried under the rubble.

Use me.

Just fucking take me.

The look on his face is a rare glimpse behind the walls of a remorseless soldier: something primal but vulnerable, something fragile that only you are allowed to see.

"You can use me," you whisper, and it's like a spell that calls upon disaster.

"Ah, Christ…"

It takes only a split-second before he accepts your offer in full. You're planted in the mattress with starved thrusts, his thighs and chest spread you open until he's drilling you in an almost 90 degree angle. You're concerned for the bed's capacity to take this sort of plowing when you should perhaps worry more about your poor abused pussy.

It's such a heaven that your jaw falls open, too. You're dreamy and helpless under him while he's far from feeble. He looks like thunder above you, especially when you're looking at him like he's a demigod.

Like you're in love.

Which you are… And he knows it, even without that adoring bimbo stare you give him.

"Gonna–cum. Fuck, I'm gonna–"

You can almost see the sweat breaking, can feel the cock inside you jolting even when there's no room for it to do such a thing.

"Fuck–! "

It swells inside you as he cums with a painful groan. The orgasm seems to just last and last, and you realize with horror and thrill that the guy hasn't had a wank in days. Work has been a bitch, then, and you get to pay for it – a punishment you suffer with glee.

He gives you his all, squeezing you between arms that feel like a too tight cage, crushing you with a chest that feels like a compression machine burying you under an iron weight. Hard thighs press against yours until you're spread open for him to be buried in to the hilt.

And you know it gives him hell that he finished before you: it's on par with a failed mission, you suppose. Your mission, however, was a success. The body around and over you is coiled tight, but the tension gradually leaves. Obviously it makes him feel even more heavy.

He finally goes slack against you, just like you wished, and you almost squeal while getting imprisoned by a heap of heaving muscles. He's catching both breath and the remains of his pride as he lies there on top of you. The cock inside gives an occasional pulse, but you're forever hungry.

This man should be illegal…

You know you won't be left stranded for long, and seeing him so utterly done gives you enough satisfaction for now. You can wait for him to finish you in other ways.

"You're fucking dangerous," he huffs in your ear while trying not to crush you completely with his weight. He's gathering his strength in the solace of your neck, and you smile like you're on drugs.

"Does that mean you like me..?"

"What do you think," he snorts humorlessly on your skin, but you know he's more than happy. "'Welcome home'... Bloody hell, woman."

"I'm glad you're here," you laugh and place a hand on that broad back to caress him gently.

"Yeah. You can keep that toy."

"Perhaps I'll finish myself with it," you chirp to annoy him a bit more. Another triumph: you have to suppress a laugh upon hearing him groan.

"Now give me a bloody minute…"

Poor man. The thought that you feel just too fucking good to him, so good that it makes him lose control, gives you such a high that it's just sinful. The thought that a stoic goliath like him is rendered weak on top of a small, harmless woman is more intoxicating than a wine glass filled to the brim.

You pet the back of his neck and know he's probably tired from work and wants to sleep. You wouldn't object to falling asleep too while he's holding you.

"How about we give it another try after a nap?"

Your offer makes him rumble softly, contently; the man's ready to drop but also thoroughly enamored. Your heart skips a beat from pure happiness.

"Mm. You always have the best ideas."

#ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #mw2 smut

[weebsinstash]

HMMMM. You know what I've never written for, stories OR drafts or prompts or posts. Hanahaki disease!!!

Your yandere is absolutely freaking the fuck out because you're choking up flowers, vomiting on thorns, choking, gagging, blood and petals dribbling down your chin, you're getting sicker, weaker, DYING, but you won't share ANYTHING WITH THEM. They have NO IDEA who it is you love and it's driving them INSANE because one you're DYING and two.... oh. So you. Love someone else. Ok... well. All you need to do to be cured is confess to that person, right? Your 'true dedicated love' can always swoop in afterwards, or so they try to tell themselves...

They're just watching you wither away, you looking absolutely heartbroken, and worst of all, you're starting to AVOID THEM. They're having to stalk you, more than usual anyways, just to check in on you, make sure you're still doing ok, still ALIVE--

Eventually you're laying there in the hospital, at death's door, and your yandere, someone you've known and trusted for some time now, is just, ready to start bawling their eyes out at your bedside as you can barely breathe, begging begging BEGGING you to tell them who you love so they can bring them to you, so you can live, like this is SO AVOIDABLE WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO YOURSELF and your "beloved" is so tormented by the fact they're watching you wither away and they can't do ANYTHING and--

you just. Weakly reach over and grab their hand. and you stare right at them with your big sparkling crying eyes and quivering lips even as more petals and pollen slip out with your breaths,

"but then you'll leave"

and that's when your yandere figures out, oh, it's THEM that you love, and you were willing to die with your secret just to avoid hearing 'no', being alone, not having THEM, losing THEM--

You're laying there feeling the pain and the aching slowly fade from deep inside your withered body, barely energized enough to feel shame, so weak, so vulnerable, and, of course you'll need someone to look after you while you recover, and here's your loyal friend, clutching your hand so desperately, and unlike all of your deepest fears, they're not going anywhere or rejecting you in the slightest. I mean... you might as well have just PROPOSED to them, declaring your love and all, so, surely you won't mind if your crush, who was secretly significantly more mentally unhinged than you were could have imagined, moves you into the perfect scale replica of your bedroom that they have in their house, right? Since you two love each other, you're gonna get married as soon as possible and live together, right? What's that? You're a little turned off by finding out they have stalker shrines of you? Haha, you must still be light-headed from all that coughing! You can't LEAVE YOUR SOULMATE, that's so silly! let them tuck you into bed and get you some pills and they can cuddle you to sleep during your first official night together--

#yandere stuff #yandere x reader #yancore #sinprompts #of course im gonna make a post about the yandere having the disease but i gotta take a shower

[koolades-world]

ok thought!

big brother mammon who acts like one to lucifer too because lucifer deserves to have someone to lean on too! this post was totally inspired by rock on haha

imagine this:

mammon dragging luci home after a night out drinking with a tenderness only an older brother would know despite the frustration at his stupidity

mammon bringing luci dinner after he spent his evening working and trying to disguise his worry

mammon cleaning up luci’s coffee cups and messes around the house so he’s able to enjoy a clean space

mammon buy luci his favorite candle scent and leaving it on his desk without a note

mammon picking up luci’s chores without letting him know after he knows he had a hard day so he gets a nice surprise when he goes to do them

mammon "scheming" with diavolo to surprise luci in all sorts of ways

just all the things mammon would never say to luci's face, but wants him to know he cares <3

"Ya know, for the little brother in this relationship, I feel like I'm draggin' ya home a lot more than I should. Getting wasted at Lord Diavolo's party isn't exactly a great look for ya." Mammon was carrying his older brother, Lucifer, on his back. They'd just left Diavolo's birthday party. As the right hand man to the Prince of Hell, Lucifer was obviously by his side the entire time. Every time someone offered Diavolo a drink, Lucifer would take it and down it himself to avoid him getting wasted and acting afool at his own party. The gesture was sweet, but of course it resulted in Lucifer getting wasted himself.

Mammon had been enjoying dancing with Mc when the two of them noticed Lucifer begin to act overly emotional and erratically. He was leaning heavily into Diavolo's side, looking close to tears and telling him he loved him. Beel was nowhere in sight, so Mammon knew he had to step up to the plate. While he didn't want to leave Mc alone, he knew one of his brothers would be willing to take his place. He flagged down which ever of his brothers that he saw first, which happened to be Satan, who was conversing with someone Mammon presumed he knew. After explaining the situation, Mammon left with Lucifer in tow behind him. As bum hurt he was about having to call it a night earlier than he'd wanted to, since he'd planned to stay at that party all night without a break, he knew Lucifer needed him more.

With his older brother on his back with a little help from Satan and Mc, Mammon set off on his way home. Mc had been the group's designated driver of that night, yet for some reason he didn't think to ask Mc to just drive them home. So, he resolved to walking because going back in would be too embarrassing, but it wasn't too far to home. The walk was mostly uneventful, besides Lucifer's sniffling and incoherent babbling. A few times he went off on a rant, and all Mammon did was nod and ask vague questions.

Once they got home, Mammon was quick to bring Lucifer upstairs. After opening the door to his room, he put Lucifer down on his bed. While the bed was made, a few empty cups and a large stack of papers sat on his bedside table. If it hadn't been for Diavolo's party, Mammon wasn't sure Lucifer would have left his room. He picked up the cups and moved the paperwork out of the way. He got a set of pajamas for his brother, and instructed him to go change, while he went back downstairs to get some water for him.

"Here. Drink this." Mammon passed the water to Lucifer, who was sitting on the edge of his bed and miraculously fully dressed. He took the glass without a word and drank half of it in one go. "How are ya feelin'?" He stood in front of him, hands on his hips.

"I'm tired." Lucifer told him. He then flopped over onto his back on his bed. With a sigh, Mammon rolled him onto his side and sat beside him.

"Get some rest then. I'll be here." Mammon's D.D.D. was dead, so he set it down on the bed beside him since Lucifer's D.D.D. was currently charging. Lucifer shut his eyes pretty quickly and Mammon thought he was asleep. Resolved to just sitting there, waiting, Mammon began to think about that night of fun he'd have before. He loved Lucifer, but the choice to drink that recklessly was stupid. But, it was because he cared so much, he was willing to make a fool of himself to prevent that same thing from happening to Diavolo, and potentially help him avoid harm. Mammon wasn't sure how many drinks he'd had, or what was in them.

The phone ringing interrupted his train of thought. His was dead, so he looked over to Lucifer's to see Mc was calling. After picking it up, he was greeted with Mc with the sound of the party in the background. "Hello?" They said.

"Hey, Mc. Somethin' the matter? Lucifer is asleep." Mammon held the phone to his ear, trying to keep his voice down.

"Oh, sorry. No, everything is fine. Just wanted to check up on you. Everything good there?" They lowered their voice.

"Yeah, thanks for checkin'. What time will ya be home? If ya know." Mammon looked over at Lucifer, who still hadn't moved.

"Soon. Belphie is asleep in a corner and Beel ate everything already, so they're tapped out. Asmo is still going, but I can pry him away easily, and Satan is ready to go when I am. I actually haven't seen Levi, but I assume he's in a side room somehere." Mc chuckled a little into the phone, presumably at something they saw.

"Alright. I'm stayin' with Lucifer. See ya later." Mammon waited for his goodbye to put down the phone. Once he did, he hung up and plugged it back in. He peered at Lucifer's face again. He looked normal, so he let himself begin to think again. This time, he didn't get far at all.

"Mammon?" Lucifer spoke up.

"Aren't ya supposed to be asleep?" Mammon looked back at him again. He was awake now, his crimson eyes searching his face.

"I don't say thank you enough." Mammon was taken aback by his words.

"Sorry?" Mammon blinked.

"Thank you. You really do care." With that, Lucifer shut his eyes again. Mammon was a little shocked, but smiled to himself. Lucifer could be so sweet when he wanted to be, but it just took a little Demonus in his system to make him say what he was thinking.

#obey me #obey me! #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me asmo #obey me satan #obey me belphie #obey me beel #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date

[zeltqz]

the ask was for a sanzu x fem reader nsfw and they’re both getting high together in the car and they do the thing where they bloke smoke in each other’s most and one things leads to another. But I thought it would be funny of on the middle of their sesh, ran calls and idk you could decide if he answers or not. Lol

— mile high club

ø contents: smoking, smut, possessiveness, fluff, takeomi slander ish bc i hate the mf, friends to lovers, mutual oblivious pining, akashi brothers' mentioned beefing

o word count : 7.1k.

ø notes: is it even a sanzu fic if i dont include some sort of tension and psychological explanation to do with the neglect he faced from Takeomi? no? ok anyway...

@wenumsmol 🫶🏾

The sun sets over the streets of Tokyo when you park the car in the garage of the Akashi household, having dropped Haru off at home since you’re now his designated driver because his license got suspended for reckless driving.

“We’re here.” The car shuts off when you turn the key, both hands resting on the wheel like the professional, respectable driver you are. “Now get out of my car.”

Sanzu groans from the backseat, laying flat on his back, hand splayed over his forehead, the cold heat from his hands doing wonders to soothe his burning headache. 

“Oi.” Over your shoulder, you peek at him, fighting the urge to poke him awake. “I said we’re here.”

“I know.”

“ So…get out?”

“I don’t wanna.”

“You don’t—” You bite your words, stopping yourself to give yourself time to take a deep breath, soothing your bubbling frustration before it erupts. “You don’t want to enter your own house?”

He raises a long, slender finger, pointing insistently out the window. You follow his gaze to the back corner of the garage, Takeomi’s bike perched on its stand. 

“Ohhh,” you realise, unbuckling your seatbelt to turn and face him fully. “Well..you can’t avoid him forever.”

He removes his hand from his forehead, eyebrows knitted, forehead creased as he glares at you. “Watch me.”

“I’m serious, Haru.”

“So am I.” He’s sitting up, face stern and serious, you swear his green eyes practically glow in the dark as they catch the edge of the yellow tint garage light. 

When it comes to Takeomi, Haruchiyo mainly plans on avoiding him at all costs, dodging him around the house, wearing headphones at full volume just to drown out the sound of his brother’s voice, not coming back home for days on end, rather spending the night at yours or Mikey’s house.

He’s developed different coping mechanisms : talking to Mikey is a big help, though Mikey isn’t one for therapeutic advice, he’s still willing to lend a helping ear and listen to Haruchiyo rant on and on. It’s not much help though, only hearing responses like ‘ hm ’ , ‘ oh ’, and ‘ah’,  maybe if Mikey has a little energy left in him, he’d nod occasionally, but that’s about as much help as you’d get. 

His second coping mechanism is you,  someone he’d befriended a couple months back and kept you by his side secretly ever since, using you as a personal chauffeur and a therapist, but more importantly a best friend. Someone who’d be there for him without judging him and his dirty secrets; someone who likes to be around him not because they’re scared or intimidated, but because they enjoy his presence. 

He cannot be in the right state of mind when talking to his brother, not wanting to remember their interactions in the morning, so he relies on getting stoned or drunk to wipe his memory. It’s a potentially dangerous mechanism, but Sanzu enjoys the adrealine rush of trying something new, enjoys the out of body experiences, the fuzzy feelings, the wild imaginations and visions that make his world look colourful rather than monochromatic. 

“Haru.” You call his name with that sweet voice of yours, one that makes his heart warm. “You can talk to me about anything, okay? I’m always gonna be here for you.” 

He’s looking down at his lap, mouth twisted in a way he always does when he’s deep in thought. You can’t help but wonder just what’s going through that brain of his, knowing fully that up there is a mess of unorganised feelings and emotions he’d never been able to fully process.

“Haru. Is everything oka—”

“You know what I want?” He cuts you off, changing topics with a bright smile. 

His decision to switch topics isn’t something that offends you, knowing that he takes time to fully open up and you’re willing to wait as long as he needs. “What do you want, Haru?”

“I want weed.”

“There’s no weed, wait. What are you doin—” He moves quickly, his lean body brushing past yours, balancing a hand on your lap for leverage as he reaches inside the glove compartment pulling out his stash. “What the hell! You stashed your crap in my car?!”

“Of course I did.” He cackles at the dumbfounded look on your face, moving to the backseat. “Where else would I put it?”

“Uh—I don’t know? Your room? Anywhere but my damn car! I got pulled over the other day. What if I had gotten caught and they searched my car?”

“Did you?” He shrugs half heartedly, opening the ziplock bag. Almost instantly the car smells of marijuana, your nose wrinkles as you try to process it. 

“Well, no…but that’s not the point!”

“Shhhh,” he shushes you, taking his time to roll his blunt, all the while you’re glaring at him. “Stop pouting. You should be thanking me.”

“For what?”

“This.” He licks the joint to seal it, lifting it towards you like it’s his artistic masterpiece. The smile on his face screams child proud of their school project, diamond scars stretching cutely as his smile only widens. “It’s strong. Try it.”

“It better be.” You snatch it from his hands, holding it between your teeth as you manouevr yourself to the backseat to seat beside him. 

His chin is heavy on your shoulder as he watches you light it, wanting to be as close to you as possible not only to get a whiff of that perfume he loves that you practically drown yourself in, but to see your initial reaction to the weed. 

The smoke burns your throat before you could fully inhale, coughing violently whilst pounding on your chest to ease it. Haruchiyo grabs water from the front, tossing it to your lap as you erupt in a series of coughs. “What is that?” 

“I dunno.” He eyes the joint between his two fingers, looking oddly fascinated by it. “I just heard it was strong.”

“No shit.” It hurts when you talk, still feeling the ghost of smoke searing your oesphagus. 

His spare hand hooks onto your legs, and you yelp as he swings them over on his lap, slender fingers rubbing up and down your thigh as he smokes. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t wanna.” You shift upwards on the seats, sitting on his lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to rest your forehead against the side of his face and shoulder. The scent of his cologne is overpowered by the marjiuana, but it’s still visible, dipping your face between his neckline and sighing. “This one is too much.” 

“Are my eyes red?” His jaw moves when he speaks, and it tickles as his smooth skin brushes against your cheek.

It pains you to move from your current position, his warmth and scent are soothing to you, but you shift back, turning the car lights on to see better. The corners of his eyes are red, and he’s struggling to keep them fully open. 

“Yeah, they are.” The urge to brush his cheeks is tempting, and your fingers twitch and hesitate by your side.

“Hey hey, wanna see somethin’ cool?” When you nod, he shifts upwards, his hand grabbing to hold onto your waist to ground you before you slip off his lap. 

The sudden contact had you stiffening, blood roaring in your ears as his strong hand held your side. You watch him perform a trick, his diaphragm contracting as he inhales, lips pursed as he exhales, several rings of smoke following suit. Your brows raise in surprise, ready to praise him when he sucks it all back in with one huge breath, the rings dismantling in the air. 

He turns back to look at you, chin high in the air, eyes tinted red gleaming as he grins at you, cheerful and animated. You can’t help it, reaching out to cup his soft cheeks with one hand, tracing over the outline of his lips, the shape of his scars with your thumb. 

It’s like he’s frozen stiff as your fingers feel up his face, and he blinks at you as you look at him with those soft eyes of yours. “You’re so cute, Haru.”

His eyes dilate; from the light in the car, or the strong weed you don’t know, can’t tell. What you can tell is that from his silence, his mind is running wild, thoughts bouncing across his brain from left to right, mirroring the way his eyes dart over your face, your lips, and the curve of your nose.

“So are you.” The words spill out from his lips faster than the blush creeps onto his cheeks. He looks away, embarrassed, clearing his throat before smoking from the joint again. “I learnt it from Ran. That useless lazy fucker is sometimes helpful.”

“Ran, huh?” Your fingers find themselves latched to the front strands of his hair tucked into a ponytail, twirling it on your fingertips. “He’s the tall one, right?”

He chuckles, short and amused, voice muffled from the joint between his lips. “All my friends are tall, ya know?”

“Well maybe if you let me around your friends, I’d be able to identify them.”

“You’ll live without ‘em,” he says, blowing smoke in your face, snorting when you cough and swat the smoke away, then try to hit the side of his face, only for him to catch your hand in time. “Your reflexes suck ass.”

You struggle to shift your hand from his grip, frowning at him. “I’m not a ninja.”

“I can teach you to be one.” 

“You a sensei, now?”

“I’m anything and everything. Like Batman.” 

He smiles when you laugh softly, the sound making him feel lightheaded, paired along with the weed flowing through his veins. “Batman is rich, though. You’re not.”

“I can steal money, all is good.” His hand, warm and hot, slides under the hem of your shirt, leaving a searing trail behind his movements that burns into your skin. “I’ll buy you anything once I get rich. Promise.”

He’s been subtly leaning closer as he speaks the whole time, but you don’t notice until his forehead brushes yours and you’re both staring at each other, daring the other to move closer.  “ Anything? ”

Green eyes fall down to your lips, not even trying to look subtle. “Anything.”

Fuck, at this angle you look so pretty, staring down at him with those dreamy eyes of yours, looking at him like he’s the most precious thing in the world. He always feels like that around you, another reason why he loves getting high around you. It forces him to be vulnerable around you, letting the feelings he’s been shovelling down refsurface.

Though it’s risky, and there’s nothing more he fears than rejection, he’s always been a risk taker. You make him feel good with your words, your presence, your voice, the silly moments you two share alone in his car, your room, his room. 

Your lips are what he favours the most on your face, always glossy with whatever flavour lipbalm you wear that day, and he physically fights the urge to kiss them just to guess it. His eyes are drawn towards your lips like a magnet. The way you bite at them when you’re focused, chew on the skin when you’re nervous, lick them when they’re dry, he notices, and wonders how soft they truly are.

“Do…do you wanna kiss me?” Your question catches him off guard, brows knitting in confusion as he wonders if he’s been speaking his thoughts aloud this entire time, but in truth, he’s been making his intentions obvious as he’s been staring at nothing but your lips the entire time.

“Huh? Don’t be weird.” He instantly facepalms himself mentally, fighting the urge to turn back time to take back his words, but it’s too late when your brows rise, lips parting slightly in surprise before looking down at your lap with a slight frown.

“Oh, sorry. That was weird, wasn’t it?”

“It’s fine.” His heart stings in his chest, he can feel it clenching painfully leaving nothing but a hollow feeling in the depths of his stomach when he realises you’re upset. “Why’d you ask that anyway?”

Maybe he can shift the narrative, find out a way to spin the conversation back to kissing. He still has a chance. “Have you never kissed anyone before?”

“I have!” The pout is back on your face, but not from being sad; he can tell the difference, so he sighs in relief. But still…the way your lower lip juts out slightly has him fighting the urge to tug and bite at it. “I’m not a virgin, idiot.”

He doesn’t bother trying to hide the surprise on his face, and you notice. “What? It’s that hard to believe someone would fuck me? Am I that ugly or something?” 

The effects of the weed start kicking in,  now you feel yourself getting emotional over nothing.

“I never even said anything.” 

“You didn’t need to. I’m not stupid, Haru.”

He flexes his jaw as he glares at you, trying to shovel his anger down. The argument is pointless, so he stays silent, bringing the blunt back to his lips. He inhales it for longer this time, and it can’t possibly be healthy for his lungs, but he doesn’t care.

“What time is it?” you ask, and his hand squeezes your waist tighter, stopping you from squirming from his lap.

“Why do you need the time?”

“Because I gotta get going at seven.”

“...why ?”

“Because…” you chirp, shifting to face him with a huge smile on your face, “I’ve got a date.” 

When you bite down on your lip, he can’t even be bothered to look down at it, or notice it. It’s silent in the car as you wait for Haru to be your best friend/wingman that hypes you, ask you for his name, height, age, job, personality, whatever. But he’s silent, face unreadable, and the tension in the car rises thick when he continues to stay silent; your excitement fades along with your smile.

He knows he’s been silent for too long, now everything is awkward, but he can’t find the right words to say. Congratulations? It’s just a date, what do you expect him to do? Find you wedding rings? 

His brain isn’t co-operating either, not in the right state of mind to process his words like a filter, so he says nothing before he says something he’ll regret.

“...Anyway,” you have to choke your words out, refusing to show your slight embarrassment, “hurry up and get high, so I can leave and get laid.”

“I am high.”

“Then I can leave.”

“No, you can’t.” He glares back when you glare at him, but he can’t find it in himself to control himself any longer. Maybe it was a bad idea to get high in a confided space with you, on his lap, with your face so close to his. 

“Why can’t I?”

“...’cause he’s a loser, and you don’t wanna get laid by a loser.”

You snort. “He’s the only loser available, so maybe I do want to.”

“What if…there’s another loser available?” He goes stiff and still when your eyes flick up to his face, looking concentrated at him eye to eye as if you were trying to decipher his words. “Me. I’m the loser.”

“You?” He simply nods and you do the opposite and shake your head. “You’re not a loser.”

“Yeah, I am.” You shift on his lap when he shrugs, leaning his head back against the headrest, and you watch as smoke leaves his lips as he exhales. 

His senses are intensified with the drugs, your fingers tickling their way up his shoulders, along his neck, to behind his head, lacing them between his soft hair. Leaning down, you hold his face in your hands and kiss him.

The moment your lips touch his, he feels like the world paused, and he’s dying to find whoever has control over the remote of his life so they could press play and he could embrace you like he deserves. Or, maybe he’s dying, and whoever is up there allows him to imagine just one night with you before he fades into nothing.

It’s real, all real. The tender slide of your lips against his are real, the sensation of his teeth sinking into your soft plump lips, biting, and nibbling at it is real, the gentle moans he eagerly draws from your lips when his tongue swipes against yours, wet, messy and sloppy is real. 

“Fuck—” you whisper along the swell of his lips, pulling away to examine his face.

He looks gone, shallow half-lidded eyes looking up at you with blown wide pupils, mouth half open as if he’s forgotten how to close it. 

“Haru, you there?” Your knuckle traces along the side of his face, stopping under his chin, lifting it to look up at you.

“Yeah yeah, ‘m here.” 

Your giggle echoes in his ears, and he’s never been harder in his life, cock pressing uncomfortably tight against his pants. “Good, because you look wasted right now.”

“Just, fuck— stop talkin’. C’mere.” He pulls you down for a kiss with a hand at the back of your head, sloppily working his mouth against yours. He tastes like weed, the smell strong but it doesn’t stop you from licking into his mouth, desperate to drive the strong taste away and replace it. 

Big, strong hands wander the length of your back, slipping under your shirt, cold hands hugging you tight, tight to his body that you can’t help but arch into him.

A sound that comes from the inside of the house has you pulling away, turning to face the window, and he trails his lips down the length of your neck. His nose pokes into the flesh of your neck as he sucks deep, red hickeys onto the plane of your neck, breathing heavily as he savours the feeling of your soft feeling of your skin. 

He could get used to this; the weed makes him feel like your skin is ten times softer, or maybe that’s how it generally feels and you’re just perfect, so soft everywhere. 

“Tak—take this off.” The words are lost to your neck as he sucks along the column of your throat, rogue hands wandering along your chest, up your shirt, kneading your tits through your bra.

“Okay, okay, wait —” When you pull backwards, he follows, leaning up from the seat, lips attached to your neck by the hip. “Haru. If you want to see me naked, you’re gonna have to let me remove my clothes.”

“Just…wait a min’ longer…” He sucks harder, and you shudder as shivers race down your body at the feeling of his teeth nibbling at the sensitive part of your neck. When he’s satisfied, he pulls away, admiring his handiwork. “You look so sexy like this, fuck.” He’s tugging your shirt off, throwing it behind you, uncaring of where it lands. 

Warm hands roam your stomach, your sides, sliding up further to wrap around your throat. “So beautiful ‘n sexy, just for me.”

“You already said sexy.” He hums absentmindedly, obviously not paying attention if the way he’s squeezing the fat of your breasts were any indication. 

“You’re sexy times two.” He grins up at you before pulling your bra cup down, and you inhale sharply when it brushes down your nipple. “No, no actually. Times infinity.”

You flush hot at his words, especially when his lips brush against your ears, biting down against the shell. He’s sweating from the heat in the car plus the heat from both your panting bodies. 

“Don’t you think we should—ah fuck—” He tugs you upwards on his lap, your clothed cunt grinding against his hard cock, hands curling into fists behind his neck. 

“We should what?” His musical chuckle vibrates along your ear, sending cold shivers down your spine, forcing you to arch to chase the feeling away. You squeal when he bites down along your ear once more, smirkingpleasantly at the soft, squishy press of your tits against his chest.

“We should go to your room. I mean there’s not much room in here.” Your neck aches from the angle you’re sitting at, neck bent at an awkward angle to avoid hitting the roof of the car. 

There’s not enough space in this crammed car to fit yourself comfortably. Haru, on the other hand, is more than comfortable, seated on the seats like a king that’s blessed the majestic view of your half naked body atop of his. 

“I got an idea,” he says, not giving you a moment to wonder what he’s thinking before he’s lifting you from his lap, plopping you onto the seats. Your forearm darts quickly to cover your chest when he pops the car door open, lips pressed together tightly as he walks to the front seat, yanks the door open without a care and readjusts the seats back, pushing it till there’s enough room between the wheel. “This space big enough for ya?”

You tilt your head past the seat, surveying the space with a keen eye. There’s enough room for you to kneel down and take his cock in your mouth without a fuss or a struggle. A bed sounds nicer though, the thought of sinking into his soft mattress as he fucks you crosses your mind, but it’s overpowered when you remember his siblings are home and you’d rather die than let them hear you.

“Seems good,” you shrug, sliding quickly out the car; the cold air from the garage AC hits you smack in the chest, hardening your nipples momentarily. 

“Ah, ah wait.” Haru pulls you back before you could climb on top of him. The cute way your tilt your head at him, confused, makes his heart do a triple beat for a moment. “I wanna try somethin’.”

“Okay…” 

It’s stressful the way he’s manouevring you along the seat, pressing your back into the front seat as he shifts to kneel between your legs. “Hold your legs up for me.”

You swallow hard, unable to taste your saliva with how fast your nerves are racing. Doing as he said, you bring your hands under your thighs, holding them up as he tugs your pants down, struggling to get them past your bent knees, glaring at you when you choke on your laugh, muttering out a quick apology. 

“Don’t apologise now. You’ll be beggin’ for it later, trust me.”

His confidence is over the roof right now, evident in his strong posture, shoulders back as he leans forward, swiping a finger along your folds with ease. 

“You’re really wet.” Your slick catches on the tip of his finger, and you want to hide your face between your hands when his pink tongue darts out to lick at it. 

“Could you maybe not do that? It’s awkward…”

He hums when he looks at you; now it’s his turn to tilt his head at you. “How else am I supposed to eat you out then?” His hands press themselves between yours under your thighs, and your back aches from almost sliding down the seat in this awkward position. “You want me to skip the prep? Fuck you into the seat right now?”

“I mean—” It sounds like a good idea, but then you remember the length and thickness of his cock through his pants and swallow excessively. “Prep please.”

He smiles at you, the car light reflecting off the side of his face as he dips his face closer, digging his fingers into the swell of your thighs, nose pressed against your folds and sniffs so hard it’s like a vacuum, your clit tingles with the need to have his tongue in you. 

“This gonna sound so weird, but I really don’t give a fuck but…” he moans as he licks along your slit, a long, wet stripe from the bottom to the top, “you taste so good, fuck—”

“Haru stop…” He seals his lips around your clit, fingernails digging into your thighs as he sucks hard, numbing your clit with the continous flicks of his tongue moving at rapid speed. “Oh my go—”

Your hands fight the urge to fly to his hair, pull him closer to grind his nose against your stubborn clit, but you remember his instructions, to keep your hands on your thighs, keep you spread open for him. 

He’s devouring your pussy like a starved individual, flicking his tongue rapidly, slurping the wetness that drips from your puffy folds. You try to close your legs, try to squirm away from the ticklish feeling of his wet tongue trying to squeeze its way through your cunt, but it’s intoxicating, and overwhelming, especially when his finger tickles against your hole.

It’s fascinating watching it go in and out, and Haru dreads pulling his mouth away from your cunt but he needs to watch your face as his finger slides knuckle deep inside you. His bloodshot eyes twinkle as he watches your slick coat the length of his finger, translucent liquid dripping down his knuckles to the seat. 

“You always get this wet?”

“I don’t know…” It’s not often you finger yourself, so the experience is first hand. You’re also partially amazed that your body managed to produce this much slick from a single finger. “Wait, wait, right there. That feels so good—”

“Here?” His finger curls inside you, itching the side of that spongy spot. 

“No, no—not there, wait—” Your hips shift to the side a little, then it’s like something switches inside you, hands shaking against your thighs as he spreads you out with a second finger, applying pressure to that spot that has your moans increasing in pitch. 

His cock twitches with the need to replace his fingers, sink himself deep inside you, watch your eyes cross as you melt in pleasure. He leans forward, slurping, sucking along the sensitive hood of your clit.

Your body feels numb, voice coming out as breathy pants as you tilt your head back to hit the headrest, giving into the warm, fuzzy feeling deep inside your abdomdem as he fingers you to your climax. 

He knows that you're close when your walls cling and squeeze his fingers tight, barely giving him enough room to move them. His own tongue slithers through your folds, lapping up the leftover slick. The taste of you is better than he’d expected, and he thinks he could live between your legs for the rest of his life. 

There’s a swell of pride swirling through his chest when he feels you lose yourself on his fingers and tongue, your teeth pressing into your bottom lip painfully as you jolt and sit up from the effects of your orgasm. Your hands forget holding your thighs up, gripping onto his hair tied up loosely in a ponytail and tug him forward, craving the warmth of his mouth sealed around your clit as your world comes tumbling down.

It takes a couple moments for you to get yourself together, still holding painfully onto his hair before letting go. He presses ticklish kisses along your thighs, licking at the wetness spread along them. 

“That was—” You swallow, trying to find the words since your brain isn’t co-operating. “That was so good.”

You look all cute when flustered, face heated and flushed, your pretty lips left open as you pant heavily, desperately trying to catch your breath. 

“Think I found my new addiction.” He grins up at you, big hands squeezing the fat of your thighs as he kneels up between your legs, wrapping them around his waist and leans in for a kiss.

Your hands cup his cheeks, holding him close to you as he licks into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue, giving you a moment to gather your nerves because you’re going to need it. 

“I’m ready,” you mumble into his mouth, feeling the shiver that races down his spine.

“Bet, okay. Hold on.” He draws back, big hands spreading your thighs apart.

You look at him through your lashes as he sheds his shirt, tossing it behind you. His body is lean, capacious, abs faint but visible and your mouth waters, hand flying out to run down his stomach. Your touch is so light, his muscles flinching away from the ticklish feeling. Everything you do to him makes him feel so good. 

He grips both your hands, pinning them above the headrest. “Keep ‘em there,” he says, unbuckling his belt, sliding his pants down to his knees. He grabs a condom from his back pocket, ignoring your humourless stare.

“You planned this?” You gesture at the condoms with your head. 

“Better be safe than sorry.” He bites the end of the wrapper, pulling the condom out, rolling it slowly down his shaft. 

Your eyeroll is cut short when the tip of his cock angles itself at your entrance. He can see the way you’re dripping, the slick smeared along your thighs. 

Warmth engulfs the head of his cock as he slowly pushes it in you, and he hisses, biting his lip to stop himself from thinking how good you feel, how tight you’re going to squeeze his cock, how he’s going to cum inside you—

You’re panting, the tip of his cock stretching you out, almost screaming when it pushes past, the thick head making you dizzy it carves a path inside you. “Ah, Haru that—” He pushes deeper, and his eyes roll back when you clench around him.

Haru swears, gripping onto the base of his cock, squeezing it to stop himself from cumming too quickly, pushing through the urge to shove the rest of his length inside you. He stills halfway, needing to take a moment to compose himself, his mind fuzzy and warm, and he feels lightheaded. 

He has to close his eyes, knowing if he looks down, seeing his cock between your legs, halfway inside you, he’d cum in an instant. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to wait—I can take it,” you pant, hips desperately trying to rut forward. “Please…”

He takes a moment to swallow, groaning lowly, as he pushes the rest of his cock inside you, trying to ignore the tight suction of your walls. The moment he bottoms out, he’s falling forward, dipping his face between your neck and shoulder and moans, the sound desperate and needy, causing your pussy to clench and quiver around him.

You wrap your legs around his waist, arms wrapping around his head as you hold him closely, enjoying the feeling of his breath tickling your shoulders. “You okay?” 

It’s funny how you’re asking him this instead of the other way round, and a part of you feels pride in the fact you could make someone this desperate and needy without effort. 

“I’m good…it’s just…fuck , you’re so tight.” He forces himself to inhale deeply, eyes squeezing shut painfully to compose himself. He shivers at the feeling of your nails raking up and down his hair, scratching at his scalp addictvely. “You’re good though, right? It doesn’t hurt?”

You shake your head, smiling softly at him. “Nah. The seats a little uncomfortable but…that’s about it. You can move, Haru.”

“It’s uncomfy? Oh…” You almost want to cry when he pulls out, but he’s lifting you from the seat, switching your positions, slotting you back down on his lap. 

“You want me to ride you?”

He nods, biting his lip when you grab onto his cock, seating yourself down on his cock. 

“Oh my god—” You feel so full, his thick cock stretches your walls, whimpering beside his ear when he rolls his hips sensually, pressing his cock deeper inside you. 

“ Holy shit , you’re so tight.” Your pussy drives him into a frenzy, eyes threatening to roll back at the way your cunt squeezes him so tight, clinging to every inch of him. 

He swears, voice low, sounding wrecked as you begin riding him a little faster, slowly lifting your hips up and down. The obscene squelch of your pussy grasping pathetically around his thick shaft has him biting his lip so hard he might draw blood. 

“ Haru.” You wail his name, collapsing onto his chest, shuddering when his hands, rough and warm, grab onto your hips to slow your pace down. 

“Yeah?” His voice is quiet, like a whisper, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“Lemme move—” You trail your lips down his neck in an attempt to soften him, waiting for him to let go of you so you can move faster. There’s a nudging spot inside you, an itch that needs to be scratched. Your attempt to move is shut down again, frustration building up and up the longer you feel his cock twitch inside you. “Haru please…”

“If I let go, you gotta promise to take it slow.”

“But I wanna make you feel good.” You whisper along his lips, tugging at it with your teeth. He groans into your mouth, and shifts for a moment, his cock follows suit, twitching desperately for some friction. “Wait, do that again.”

“This?” He rolls his hips upwards, rolls your hips backwards and forwards, and you drip a little wetter down his leg, wetting his thighs. 

“Yes. Do it again.” 

He starts a steady pace, steady enough for you to feel the way he’s deliberately aiming at that spot in you that makes you squirm around. 

“I’m so close.” He says beside your ear, his voice lingering in your head, clouded by the feeling of his hands roaming your back, scratching at it with every bounce you give him. 

“Me…me too.” 

He’s tense, gritting his teeth when you clench around him. You shift backwards, unslinking your hands from around his neck to grab at his knees, using them as leverage to support yourself as you roll your hips in circles.

He can feel the energy buzzing between you both, can feel the tingling sensation on the edge of his fingertips, the drugs running through his veins has the regular feeling of sex intensifieid, and he swears he can feel every inch of you. 

Everything is so hot right now, the temperature in the car, the feel of your hands braced against his knees, the way your nails dig into the bone, the way your tits bounce in his face as you fuck yourself on his cock. 

You clench when you cum, and he leans forward suddenly, grabbing your hips to lift you up, slamming you back down with a loud moan, hips jerking as he cums inside you. 

You’re shaking, trembling at the feeling of his cum spurting inside you, the wet sensation is ticklish, cold shivers running down your spine. 

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he mumbles again, holding you down to feel your greedy walls sucking him in further. “Holy fuck, I could stay here forever.”

“I need a shower.” You say once you come back to your senses, groaning softly when you lift yourself up and off his cock, the wet squelch following after echoes throughout the car. 

“That’s so hot.” He mutters, eyes wide with fascincation as he reaches out to thumb at your clit, enjoying the way you shiver and let out a soft moan as he rubs it in circles. “Holy shit that’s so hot. You’re so hot.”

“I kno—” It’s distracting when you can feel his cum dripping out from you slowly making you lose your train of thought , the drip of it is anticipating until it forms a small pool between both of your bodies. “I know.”

“You hesitated.” 

“I didn’t.”

He removes his thumb, wiping the wetness from it along his tongue, tasting you, and you feel your face flush at the action, burning hot when looks up at you, the corners of his mouth dragging up slowly. “You did.”

“Shut up.” 

Sanzu’s reaching towards the backseat for his stash, and you laugh at how his arm barely reaches it, flailing it uselessly around the air. 

“You’re not gonna reach it, Haru.”

“Watch me.”

He grunts and groans like he’s lifting heavy bricks, and you start to take pity on him. “Dude, just give up.”

“No.”

 If there’s one thing about Sanzu it’s that he’s determined, but not in the way you think. It’s more the stubborn version, always trying to do the impossible, ignoring you when you tell him it’s not possible, then sulks when he fails. 

He clicks his tongue, shifting you down on his lap so he has more room and this time successfully grabs at it. “Told you. Always hatin’ on me.”

You giggle, faint and shrill, leaning forward to rest your head against his shoulder, watching him dug through the contents of the bag, his slender, skilled fingers professionally rolling another blunt. 

It’s silent in the car again, you two both bask in each other’s presence. Both of you refusing to discuss what happened earlier, not sure if those sudden feelings you felt were because of the weed or if there’s something else deep inside, a false truth you’ve refused to make terms with, or shoved them aside for another unknown reason unbeknownst to you.

Your head is racing with thoughts, pictures of Haru wondering where you suddenly felt these emotions towards him came from. The thought of sharing him with anyone else angers you, but it shouldn’t because you’re both friends. The thought of him laying in a car with another girl on top of him angers you, makes you feel bitter and resentment towards this imaginary woman your brain fabricated inside your head.

It’s like your body is working against you. 

Stupid weed. 

Haru’s gone for the second time today, and for the first time in what felt like ten minutes—in actuality it was only three—you look up at him. He looks like he’s falling asleep, those chubby cheeks of his so promising, so soft, you can’t help but shift upwards, pressing soft kisses against them.

It should be weird to him  that he doesn’t question your sudden out of character movements, but then again you both did just have sex not longer than five minutes ago. 

His phone rings at the backseat, pulling you away from his neck where you were sucking fresh purple hickeys onto and he groans when your ass brushes aginst his cock. It’s been slightly hard the entire time, still not over his recent orgasm, but not strong enough to maintain itself to stand tall. 

“What’re you doin’?” You freeze as your hand hovers over his phone. 

“Your phone’s been ringing non-stop. It’s irritating.” The caller ID is Ran, and part of you wants to answer it so you can know what he looks like. It’s been nudging at your brain the entire time, trying to figure out which one of his friends is who, trying to put the pieces of the faceless group of boys together to solve the puzzle. 

“Just ignore it—okay then.” You answer the phone away, turning the camera away from your naked body onto Sanzu’s face. You squirm around, trying to find where Sanzu threw your bra and shirt as the two engage in small talk.

“What do you want?”

Ran snorts on the other end, his voice deep, familiar, and husky. “Don’t needa get all pissy, you big baby. Takeomi wants to know where you are.”

“What the fuck does that have to do wit’ me?”

“Call him, or somethin’. I don’t fuckin’ know?”

Haru sniffs, nose wrinkling when the smoke he blows out invades his nostrils. “Tell him I’m busy.”

“Being a fuckin’ junkie?” Ran snorts, petty and bitterly, voice now laced in sarcasm. “So productive.”

Haruchiyo rolls his eyes at the same time you put your shirt back on, reaching under your shirt to fix the straps of your bra. “I’m doing more than getting high, you slug. I’m with my friend.”

You had tuned out the conversation from the beginning, your main priority being your clothes, but at the mention of ‘friend’, he jostles his leg, catching your attention. “Say hello.”

“Uh…hello?”

“Oh? Who might you be?”

“I’m—” Haruchiyo ends the call before you could even get the first letter of your name out. “What the hell?”

He lazily shrugs, tossing his phone into the backseat without a care. It hits the edge of the seat, before hitting the floor with a mild smack. Two noble fingers grasp at your chin, redirecting your gaze from his probably broken phone to his face. 

The kiss is passionate, and long, his wet slide of his tongue laving itself inside your mouth. Your face grows hot when his lips wrap around the length of your tongue, sucking the moisture from it, replacing it with his own. It’s messy but you don’t care, happily drinking the mixed saliva from his mouth. 

His sharp teeth sink into your lips, stopping you from pulling away, kissing you with fervour as his heavy head spins, and bright flashes of colour appears behind his closed eyes.

“I’m so hungry,” he gasps out when he finally pulls away, wiping the saliva from his mouth with his forearm, giving you back the breath he stole from your lungs with that kiss.

“You want me to drive you to McDonalds?”

He grins up at you, that stupid adorable look on his face that has your heart warming in your chest. “Is this your way of asking me out on a date?”

“It’s my way of forcing some food down your throat before you die of starvation.”

“What if I was thirsty instead?”

“McDonalds sells drinks, dumbass.”

“ Or… ” He places his hands on your hips, pulling you forward on his lap. You yelp at the motion, hands flying to the headrest behind him to stabilise yourself. 

What he’s insinuating is lost to you for a moment, only becoming obvious when his hand snakes down to your pussy, thumb nudging insistently at your clit. His eyes dip down to your chest, your nipples still hard and poking through the thin fabric of your shirt, then drags them back up to your face and smiles.

“You’re so horny.” Your eyeroll is fabricated and fake, part of you deep down wants it too. 

“You like it though.” It’s true, and he knows it too. The defeated look on your face is all he needs to know when he moves to open the car door, nodding his head outside. “Let’s go to my room now.”

#—tr </3 #sanzu x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x you #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #tokrev sanzu #tr x reader #tokrev #tokrev x reader #tokyo revengers smut #sanzu smut #sanzu haruchiyo smut #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #featuring ran #haitani ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #ran x reader

[generalllimaginesss]

Here’s a little piece based on Megan Moroney’s song Reasons to Stay.

Warnings: angsty bf! Jack, toxic relationship (you can usually tell if I’m depressed or not based on what I post lmao), but like this is really really toxic so don’t read if that’s a trigger for you. I think I made myself go crazy while rereading it.

Reasons to Stay

I asked Jesus for a sign

And today I haven’t cried

It’s only 2 p.m. but that beats yesterday

So I guess that’s a reason to stay

The status of having an NHL boyfriend was alluring to a lot of girls. The fame was something that always felt new, thousands of people, strangers, screaming the name that you hold near and dear to your heart. The money eased the fear of bills and gave a freedom the average person would never experience in their lifetime. The influence that you hold as a WAG always playing in the back of your mind anytime your finger hovered over a button to post a picture, wondering if the caption was classy enough to hold your status.

The truth is that looks can be deceiving. The girls that threw themselves at Jack made for a constant state of insecurities to pool in your brain, sloshing around anytime Jack was home late or turned his location off. The money bought things that made you smile, a Louis Vuitton here, a Mercedes there, but the feeling of being in debt to the man that let hate spew from his mouth anytime you accidentally stepped out of line pulled at your being, anxiety grasping at the freedom, one not capable of being present without the other.

Was it really freedom?

Was it the price of freedom?

Maybe.

Maybe the price was the amount of tears that flowed when he rejected an outfit for you to wear.

“You’re not leaving in that. I don’t date sluts and that makes you look like one,” his reasoning rang, slicing through your ears and bouncing around anytime you bought clothes.

Today was a good day, though.

He had kissed you goodbye, asking if you would be making dinner tonight.

He’d be home tonight, you thought, willing yourself to think positive and fighting against the urge to dwell on the fact that he had come home with a hickey the night prior. He insisted it was a hickey, but you weren’t too sure about that.

But he’s yours tonight, that’s all that matters. That keeps you going; the possibility that tomorrow he will be yours is your driving thought. So you went about your day as if the life you were living were a dream and that you were living the life as the girlfriend of a famous hockey player who made millions.

Maybe it’s normal to have to be small. Maybe you just have to compensate for the huge platform that he had. He had earned it after all.

Seriously, what did you do other than keep the house tidy and go to his games? That’s normal….right?

You just had to tell yourself that it would be ok. It would be harder and messier to leave than try to push through.

And when you’re drunk at 3 a.m.

You don’t call your ex-girlfriend

It’s been a couple months since you

Brought up her name.

So I guess that’s a reason to stay.

The guys had gone out after a win, guys only. No girlfriends or wives. That’s what Jack said, at least. They were celebrating the guys achievements, some records broken, and it was just for them.

That was fine with you. He had an amazing game: his second hatty of his career. He needed a night to let off some steam and just be a boy.

The picture of him and Nico with Jack’s ex looming in the background was just a coincidence, yeah? Jack said she was a puck bunny, so she’s probably just going from guy to guy.

As soon as he walked through the door, the smell of bourbon wafted through the air, attaching itself to every air molecule in the apartment and meeting you like a familiar friend. This wasn’t the first time he had come home in this state. It wasn’t even the 5th or 6th.

“You’re up,” Jack’s words were slower than normal, the effort to produce the words coherently proving to be more tasking than normal. He took in the view of you curled up in an Ugg blanket on the plush cushions of the couch, noticing the lines that the tears had been drawing for the past hour. He took note, but not responsibility. He told you where he was and what he was doing, no harm no foul.

“Just couldn’t go to sleep,” Your voice was weakened, something you despised about yourself. You used to view yourself as strong and independent. Sticking up for what was right was was something you took pride in, but being in a relationship with Jack had slowly chipped away at that, so nonchalantly that you were the skeleton of who you once were before you could do anything about it.

Jack’s balance teetered from the left to the right, making a ship at sea during a storm look like a walk through the park. He stumbled as he tried to take his shoes off, a cue that you learned meant you needed to help him.

He did so much for you, so would it really be awful to just help him out?

As you slipped one AirForce off, you took notice of the bruises that feathered his legs, probably from the intense game tonight.

You could feel courage bubble, coming to a boil before you made your next statement, “I noticed your ex in a picture that Nico posted…what’s that about?”

“Baby,” He slurred, attempting to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear but pulling it instead, kissing your forehead after you winced at the tension. “You’re the only one that matters,” And with that he sucked you right back into his intoxicating blue eyes. They held a secret confession of his love for you. One that only you could see and he could feel.

But you don’t try like you used to

You don’t look at me the same

You used to say you’re sorry, now

Whiskey’s what you blame

How much can a heart take

‘Til it’s really your last chance

I’m a giver, but I’ve given all I can

We both know that I ain’t one to walk away

But I’m runnin’ out of reasons to stay

Things hadn’t always been like this.

Jack hadn’t always been like this.

He used to surprise you at work with two dozen roses, or wrote sweet love notes on sticky notes and stuck them to your vanity. He used to put in effort.

He used to want you.

What were you thinking, of course he still wanted you. He wouldn’t be in a relationship with you for the whole world to see if he didn’t want you, right?

He hadn’t bought flowers in a long time, though, and the sticky notes had slowly made their way to a drawer for safekeeping, none there to replace them. The vanity was bare, loneliness radiating from it every time you passed it, the feeling resonating in your soul.

It was as lonely as you.

Jack had come home drunk again last night, the smell of the liquor laced the words he shot at you with a poison that made them burn when they hit you. Everything that came out of his mouth felt like lashes against your skin.

“You’re so fucking boring, Y/N! You think you’re so perfect and you’re not! You think you’re better than everybody around you, but you’re not! You’re a fucking bitch, you cunt!”

He went on like that for at least an hour, going on and on about how he deserved better, how he could have anybody he wanted but settled for you.

It hurt even worse because it was so untrue. You battled with yourself for years because you compared yourself to those around you constantly. Jack knew this. He had been there for your breakdowns when your family had made you feel like a disappointment, or when you never thought you would be as pretty or talented as the other girls in the hockey scene.

Did he just forget this?

How were you going to smooth this over with him?

It felt like all you did was make excuses for him just to be able to live with him.

Why?

How did he completely change you? Wreck you? He had gutted out who you once were and left the bare beams that held you up. He had conditioned you to allow him chance after chance, no matter how bad he had fucked up.

And you just let him.

As the sun played a game of peekaboo through the curtains, you had made up your mind that you couldn’t justify the way he was treating you anymore. It was wrong.

The smell of bacon and eggs lured you into the kitchen to see him shirtless, standing over the stove as he busied himself with making breakfast. His back muscles flexed as he maneuvered about the stove. He looked perfect, as if he hadn’t verbally assaulted you and your character last night.

Before you could say anything, he had sensed that he was being watched, catching a glimpse of you as he turned his head slightly to the left.

“Morning. Didn’t wake you up, did I?” His voice was raspy, probably from partying for most of the night, but it sounded like he cared. It was refreshing.

“N-no. Um, I just felt like I should get up,” Reassuring him felt like an attempt to just keep the peace. Don’t say anything to set him off, don’t be combative. He’s cooking breakfast for you, so everything’s ok.

“Good. Hey, about last night…I’ll be honest I don’t remember what I said, but if it was bad it was just from me drinking too much. The boys may have gotten me to drink more than I normally do…” he trailed off as he plated the breakfast he had made for you, placing it on a placemat at the bar and pouring a cup of coffee for you, 3 creams and 2 sugars.

He remembered.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” You walked to the bar taking a seat.

The morning consisted of the two of you genuinely enjoying the presence of the other, catching up on what’s going on in each other’s lives and promising to not let it get this way anymore.

Before Jack left for practice, he had placed a kiss to your lips ever so gently, “I love you,” he whispered, his voice soft and sweet.

How was this the same Jack from last night?

You were sure that you had to be going crazy.

If I go find somebody new

I’d lose your mom and sister too

You know me and how much I hate change

So I guess that’s a reason to stay

And I ain’t perfect either, we all make mistakes

But that don’t change

The Michigan sunset was absolutely breathtaking. The orange and purple hues painting a picture so perfect that it could never be replicated on a canvas. The distant sounds of the guys on the lake could be heard in the distance, the chill of the wind carrying the hoots and hollers from the water to you and Ellen, sitting on the deck attached to the back of the house.

The smell of the deck and the sound of the hundreds of frogs from the water felt like a dream, one that you never wanted to wake up from.

“Jack would probably kill me if he heard me say this, but I really hope you two get married soon. I’d love to have you as my daughter, you know? These boys are a lot sometimes…” Ellen chuckled as she nodded to the boys in the distance.

The comment caught you off guard, a response in favor felt forced, but how were you supposed to tell her that her son was making your life a living hell?

“You’d have to take that up with him,” You smiled at her, not revealing the relationship that was slowly eating away at you.

“I promised to never pressure them to do something that they weren’t ready for, so I’ll let him choose the right time. I just know we all love you. Anytime the other two call home they always ask how you’re doing. I know they talk to Jack about you, too. We didn’t think he’d ever be ready to settle down with a girlfriend, much less one as amazing as you,” She went on, pulling her jacket tighter around her as the absence of the sun left goosebumps on her skin.

“It’s getting cold out here, let’s head inside and you can help me make dinner. I believe we have some wine if you’d like some,” She stood up and headed to the kitchen, waiting for you to follow suite, you smiled.

It was almost a sad smile, grateful that even though Jack wasn’t the man he should’ve been for you, his family loved you. They made you feel safe and loved. They were a safe haven from the toxic tendencies that Jack had taken up when the two of you were in New Jersey.

“I’d love that, Ellen.”

The sound of bare feet padding rapidly against the blades of grass that ran from the dock to the deck made you and Ellen turn your heads towards the window, watching on as Quinn, Luke, and Jack were racing towards the house.

Luke won, his long legs giving him an unfair advantage against his shorter counterparts. Quinn came in second as Jack has tripped over himself.

“What’s for dinner?” Luke panted, reaching for a water bottle out of the fridge and attempting to sit on the couch.

“You’ll find out after you change out of your wet swim trunks,” Ellen gave him a stern look, him raising his arms in defense as he left to go to his room for dry clothes.

You felt an arm snake around your waist, the smell of lake water and sunscreen following behind it. At first you jumped, worried that you had done something wrong.

He chuckled at the sudden movement, not realizing that he was the problem.

“Jumpy, are we?”

You smiled, trying to not cause an issue with him.

“Sorry. Wasn’t expecting you to be so cold,” You felt nasty as you lied through your teeth.

After a few minutes, he finally decided to retreat to the shower to wash the day off of him. You took in your surroundings while he was away.

Quinn and Luke played the Xbox while Ellen prepared the vegetables for dinner and Jim smoked the meat outside. You had been loving this family for years now. You and Ellen had become so close, easily somebody you loved as if she were your own mother.

Jack wouldn’t be the only person that you would have to let go of if you were to leave. As much as you loved his family, it was only natural for them to take his side, something that you understood and admired. You could only wish somebody would take up for you no matter what, and he had 4 people willing to do that for him.

You couldn’t imagine the thought of having to start over with somebody new, having to meet their parents for the first time and being disappointed that they weren’t Ellen and Jim. Being disappointed that their siblings wouldn’t pay the extra money when they accidentally forgot to keep your Snapchat streak going since it was almost 4 years long. Quinn and Luke texted you almost as often as they texted Jack. You were like their sister.

The thought of starting over was enough to have tears stinging at the corner of your eyes. Whatever Jack had done, you couldn’t expect him to be perfect. He’s human, after all. You’d stay if it meant you could keep the Hughes in your life.

I'm runnin' out of patience

Damn, I hate to say it

I'm runnin' out of patience and grace and at the end of the day

Findin' last resort reasons we're okay

Ain't a good reason to stay

“Jack you have purple bruises all on your fucking neck! How stupid do you think I am?!” You barked at him as he sat on the couch facing you.

“Stupid enough to think this is the first time this has happened,” His smug smirk and body language made you want to hurt him. You wanted to hurt him as bad as he’s hurt you for so long now.

“I hate you. I fucking hate you, Jack Hughes. You are the most disgusting person I have ever met and I hope your life becomes a living hell that you can never get out of,” The words came out calmly despite their harsh meaning. It was eerie, making the hairs on Jack’s neck stand up.

“Where do you think you’re going,” He watched as you made your way to the shared bedroom, hearing the sound of a suitcase zipper open.

He jumped up, heading straight for you, but froze as he watched you throw clothes into the suitcase. When that one became full you found another one to shove your clothes into, until the only things left were things you didn’t normally wear.

“What are you doing?” He spat, realizing that the grip he had on you was being relinquished.

“What does it fucking look like? I’m done. I’ve gone crazy trying to love you and I want out. I can’t do this anymore!” You tried to yell, but your throat constricted as it tried its best to sob. You refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you like that, though. He had put you in this state of survival long enough.

“You’re going to regret this…” He trailed off, following you as you threw everything into your car.

“Maybe so, Jack. But I will never regret it as much as I regret falling in love with you. You are an awful person, and I hope everybody will see that one day,” You slammed the door shut and put the car in reverse.

As you made your way down the driveway and street, Jack’s figure became smaller and smaller. Nobody would ever make you feel this way ever again, and you felt sorry for whoever fell into the trap that is Jack Hughes after you.

*

*

*

*

HAHA IM SO SORRY!! Also this in no way reflects who Jack is in real life because I, obviously, don’t know him personally. This was so bad though, so I’m actually really sorry.

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #jack hughes #nhl fanfiction #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #alex turcotte #cole caufield #jack hughes imagines #nico hischier #jh86 #toxic relationship #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #megan moroney

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Liar

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Author’s note: Yeah I hope you guys like these because they just keep coming.

Synopsis: Dean will do anything to protect you. He finds out just how far he’s willing to go.

You were different than Sammy was. Either that, or Dean had just gotten a whole lot better at lying over the years. He had never been able to lie to Sam, at least not for long, but you…

You trusted Dean completely. You believed everything he said. You assumed that since he had told you the truth about monsters, about his mom and yours, that he would tell you the truth about everything.

He wasn’t proud about all the times he had lied to you, but you were his baby sister, and he would protect you from everything, by any means necessary. Even if that meant he had to protect you from the truth sometimes.

…

“Is that dad?”

Dean didn’t bother answering you, so focused was he on listening to John’s instructions.

“Yes sir. I understand.”

“Dean, I wanna talk to him! Tell dad I’m here.”

“No sir, I’m listening. Yes sir. Alright.” Dean hung up the phone, and only after the echo of his father’s authoritative voice was out of his head did he give you his attention. By then it was too late, and Dean’s heart ached a little at the shattering disappointment on your face.

“Dean, I wanted to talk to dad. That was dad, right?”

Dean cleared his throat, and he focused on a spot just above your shoulder, unable to fully meet your eye.

“Yeah, yeah that was dad. Sorry, he said to tell you he loves you. He was in the middle of something, he couldn’t talk any longer.”

“Is he in danger?”

“No, no he’s gonna be fine, he just…couldn’t talk.”

You still looked disappointed, but after hearing your father’s “message”, your face brightened a bit.

“Ok…do we have a job?”

Dean finally met your eye, and smiled down at you.

“Yeah, we gotta job. Go take your bags to the car, ok?”

Only after you had left the hotel room with an armload of bags, did Sam turn to glare at his brother.

“ ‘Dad says I love you’? Really Dean?”

Dean glared right back.

“What did you want me to say, Sam? You think she would’ve been ok if I had said, ‘Sorry kid, daddy’s too busy hunting a demon to remember to say I love you to his daughter’? Look, dad has a lot going on right now, and that’s fine for you and me. But she needs-“

Dean cut himself off when you came bounding back into the hotel room.

“Everything’s packed and I’m hungry. Can we go now?”

Dean grinned, brushing past Sam and throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“Heck yeah we’re going now. You’re not the only one who’s hungry.”

“Dean?” At Dean’s hum of response, you continued, “Is dad…is he gonna come back soon?”

Both Dean and Sam froze, and Dean glanced at Sam for a split second before responding.

“Yeah baby. Of course he’ll be back soon.”

…

“Dean?”

Dean bit back a groan, and instead he took a long swig of the beer in his hand. Obviously it was you on the other side of the bathroom door, and he could tell just by the one word that you were still crying.

He had taken refuge in the bathroom so that he could be alone with his thoughts. He would’ve taken Baby out for a drive, but John had left the hotel room just a few minutes after Sam, and Dean didn’t want to leave you completely alone.

Alone. Gosh he hated that word. But more than the word, he hated the feeling. He’d never felt more alone than he did tonight. Sam was going to college. Dad’s golden boy had left after a long and heated argument, and dad himself was too pissed about it to stay in the presence of his other two kids.

Not that Dean could blame him, he’d wanted to get away from what was left of his family too, at least for a couple hours to clear his head. But he couldn’t. Actually, he could. He could push past the crying girl at the bathroom door, grab the keys to the Impala, and not look back.

But he wouldn’t. Not to you, not to the kid that trusted him more than anything.

Dean put his beer down and pushed himself to his feet, hesitating a moment when his hand reached for the door handle. But only for a moment.

Your face was red and tear-streaked, and your lips were trembling. But the second you saw Dean, relief lightened your features, and you stood there awkwardly for a moment before Dean pulled you into a hug.

“It’s gonna be ok.”

Was it? Dean sighed. It didn’t matter if he believed it, so long as you did.

“Is Sam gonna come back?” You sobbed, fingers gripping fistfuls of Dean’s shirt. He cradled the back of your head in one hand, the other coming up to rub your back.

“Of course,” Dean managed to get past the lump in his throat. “Of course Sammy’s coming back. College won’t last forever.”

You looked up at Dean just then, blinking the tears out of your eyes.

“But dad…dad told him not to come back.”

Dean gently pushed your head back against his chest, unable to look you in the eye.

“He…dad was just angry. He didn’t mean it.”

Dean felt like that was the most outlandish lie he had uttered tonight—dad wasn’t one to change his mind—but of course, you believed him anyway.

“Ok.”

Dean sighed in relief. As long as you believed him, nothing else really mattered right now. At least nothing that he cared to think about.

“Dean?”

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“You won’t leave me…will you?”

For the first time all night, Dean could look into your eyes and confidently answer you, not a hint of a lie in his words.

“No baby. I will never leave you.”

…

“Of course dad will be here.”

Dean was tired. Tired of all of it. He was tired of missing Sam, tired of pretending he didn’t miss Sam when you were around. Tired of doing hunts alone. Tired of John taking off for days at a time.

But, perhaps most of all, he was tired of this. Tired of lying to you for John, so you could keep the image you had of a perfect father. He didn’t want to do it anymore. Guilt for lying to someone who trusted him so completely was eating him up. Watching you fall apart every time dad left, then looking to him for reassurance, for the glue to put you back together, was wearing him out. Just once, he wished John would be there for you so he didn’t have to come up with the lies. He was tired of it.

But he knew that you needed this. You had lost so much in your life; your mother, any friends you could have made if you didn’t move around so much, any sense of normality, any sense of safety, and, most recently, Sam. He couldn’t let you lose your dad too, no matter how little John was actually in your life to be a dad.

“Do you think he even remembers?”

Dean was snapped back to reality to find you staring up at him yet again, a fragility in your eyes that he had gotten used to but yet would never cease to hurt his heart.

“Of course he remembers, kiddo. What kinda dad would forget your birthday? He’s doing his best to be here, I know it. Sometimes those ghosts though, they just don’t take a day off.” Dean felt that his attempt today was a bit halfhearted, and he couldn’t even muster enough energy to try looking anywhere near your face while he lied to you.

Even with this utterly pathetic display, you smiled briefly up at him and gave him a brief hug.

“That’s ok. Even if the ghosts keep him away, maybe he’ll want to celebrate when he gets back.”

Dean rubbed your back, grateful for an excuse to not have to look at you.

“Yeah. Of course he will.”

…

“I’m fine, of course I’m fine.”

This lie was perhaps the easiest. Because it was the lie that he told to everyone, not just you.

“But your arm…” Dean flinched away when you reached for the gash on his arm, and you withdrew your hand. “Sorry.”

Dean just shook his head, “no, it’s fine, I’ll just patch it up real quick and we can-“

Dean was cut off by a knock on the hotel door, and he immediately went into hunter mode. He snatched his gun up from the dresser, gestured for you to hide, and hesitantly looked through the peep hole. You noticed his body relax, and he put the gun down, opening the door to reveal John Winchester.

You didn’t hesitate, running out from behind the bed and bounding towards John. Before you could reach out and pull your dad into a hug, he grabbed your arms and firmly moved you aside, barely sparing you a glance before turning his attention to Dean.

He wasn’t trying to be cruel, but he was too focused on his mission to notice that his little girl wanted her father.

“You’re hurt,” John glanced down at Dean’s arm, a frown pulling the corners of his mouth downward.

“I’m fine,” Dean insisted. “What’s the word? You got anything on the demon?”

John shook his head, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. “Nothing. Now why don’t you-“ John cut himself off when he felt your small frame lean against his side, your arms coming up around his waist. You didn’t want to interrupt him, but you hadn’t seen your father in nearly two weeks, and he hadn’t called, not even once, to tell you he was ok.

John, however, didn’t understand nor appreciate your sentiment.

“That’s enough, go get the first aid kit for your brother.”

“I missed you, dad,” it didn’t really register in your mind that you were, at the moment, disobeying John. You were just desperate for him to reciprocate your affection, and Dean nearly cringed when you ignored John’s command, even if for just a moment. All that Dean’s lying had done was ensure that you didn’t truly understand John—he was not a man to be disobeyed, and he was not a man to put aside anything he deemed important for something as ludicrous as affection.

John’s large hands gripped your upper arms, and Dean didn’t miss the way your face contorted in shock—and pain?—as John pulled you away from him.

“I said that’s enough, now do what I said before there are consequences.” John wasn’t shouting, per se, but he was definitely using his sergeant voice, and his sudden rigidity seemed to both shock and scare you.

“I’m sorry,” your voice was quiet, and this time Dean did cringe. Why did you have to be so focused on getting a real response from John? Didn’t you understand that you were just supposed to obey?

No, of course you didn’t. You weren’t used to John, whether you knew it or not. You were used to Dean. And Dean would’ve hugged you back.

“Do what I said!” John was shouting now, and this time he reached a hand up and pushed your shoulder. Not very hard, but you hadn’t been expecting it, and it was enough to make you stagger back several feet before Dean instinctively reached out to steady you. He almost cringed a second time when John turned his glare to Dean.

“Don’t coddle her, Dean. Is that why your wound has gone untreated? Because you just let her do whatever she wants?”

Dean cleared his throat, and gave you a brief look that told you to do as your father said. You scrambled off to find the first aid kit while Dean addressed John.

“No, sir. I don’t need her to treat my wound, I was about to do it myself. I just got back.”

“Well you shouldn’t have to. She should know how to treat a simple wound, and she doesn’t have anything else to do.”

Dean wasn’t about to argue that, as a young kid still in school, you had plenty else to do. Dean had put together his own curriculum for you, he figured it was a better way to get an education than switching schools every few weeks like he had. But to John, school wasn’t exactly a priority. It wasn’t going to get you anywhere in the hunting world. K

You had finally found the first aid kit, and you tugged on Dean’s arm, leading him to sit down on his bed before you pulled out the kit to sew up his arm.

He grabbed your hand before you could pierce his arm with the needle, noticing that your hands were shaking.

“It’s fine,” Dean reassured you, “I can do it myself.”

“How’d you get that?” John asked from the other side of the room.

Dean tried to shrug it off, “One more vamp then I thought there was. It’s not bad.”

“If you’d had backup, it wouldn’t have happened.”

“I don’t need backup,” Dean grunted.

“Stitch him up,” John demanded, looking at you. He then turned his attention to Dean. “Backup would do you good, though.”

Dean grabbed your hand again before you could try to stitch him up, “Go get me a drink, baby. If I’m not gonna be the one with the needle, I might as well be drunk.” He handed you a few dollars, and you nervously headed for the door, throwing a worried glance in John’s direction. For once in his life, John let you follow Dean’s instructions rather than his. He had a feeling he had a much bigger problem to deal with with Dean.

“You don’t have Sam anymore. You could use her,” John spoke as soon as the motel door shut behind you.

“She’s not old enough. I’m not gonna do that to her, I’m not gonna get her killed.”

“If you train her right she won’t get killed.”

“You can’t know that! Even the best get killed in this life, and she’s just a kid! I’m not gonna watch her get hurt!”

John scoffed, “You’re babying her. She’s in this life whether you like it or not.”

Dean gritted his teeth, “But I can reduce the risks. And that means no hunting. Not for her.”

“Maybe it’s not your call, Dean.”

Dean stiffened.

“Really, dad? You leave me with her, leave me to raise her for weeks on end, all the time, but when I want to protect her, now you pull the dad card?” Dean stepped towards John, his chest heaving. “Well you’re not her dad. You were never there for her, I was! You don’t get to decide whether she gets thrown into danger, I do!”

John clenched his fists.

“What has gotten into you? Stand down now, Dean. This isn’t a fight you’re going to win.”

Dean set his jaw.

“Yes it is. And you wanna know why?” He closed the small gap between himself and his father.

“Because she’s my girl.”

…

You jumped in surprise when you felt a hand on your shoulder, turning to see Dean standing there, both your bag and his in his arms.

“What’s wrong?”

Dean shook his head, trying hard not to seethe.

“Nothin’ baby, just some…complications,” Dean focused on his usual spot, just above your shoulder. “We think there’s something big in the next town over, you and me are taking the Impala, dad can catch up later.”

You frowned, “Dean, what about your arm?”

“It’ll be fine, I’ll give it a quick patch job and I can sew it up when we get where we’re going. Now c’mon, we’re in a hurry.”

…

You were quiet as Dean loaded up the Impala and began to drive out of town. In fact, he was starting to think that you were dozing off when you finally spoke.

“There isn’t a job, is there?”

Dean glanced at you, frowning.

“What are you talking about, N/N? Of course there’s a job, I-“

“You and dad fought, didn’t you? Was it about me?”

Dean turned to stare at you. You hesitated before meeting his gaze head-on.

“He was mad, I could tell. You were, too. And a job could’ve waited until after you sewed yourself up. You didn’t want me going back to the room, because dad was there.”

Dean cleared his throat, returning his gaze to the road.

“So what, you’re saying you think I lied to you?”

You pulled your knees up to your chest and looked out the window.

“Did you?”

Dean shook his head, “C’mon baby, don’t you trust me?”

“Why didn’t you answer my question?”

Dean sighed.

“Dean? Why didn’t you want me to go back to the room?”

“Can’t you just trust me?”

“Don’t say that, I do trust you, always. But I wanna know.”

Dean tried his best to force a smile on his lips as he reached over and ruffled your hair.

“Doesn’t matter sweetheart. What matters is, you’re safe, and we’re gonna be ok.”

“What about dad?”

Dean forced himself to look over at you, and he felt a pang in his chest when he saw you. You were curled in on yourself, looking up at him. You looked so small.

“Honey, I need you to just trust me. Please, can you do that for me?”

You didn’t even hesitate.

“Ok Dean. I trust you.”

#dean x you #supernatural dean #sam and dean #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean and sam #winchesters x reader #sam winchester x reader #winchester #sam winchester x you #spn sam winchester #the winchesters #john winchester #the winchester brothers #sam winchester #winchester x reader #winchesters x sister #sam winchester x sister!reader

[ssareids-coffee]

little drabble about eddie funding out his new gf is a sub!!

smut!!!

he was not expecting you to be quite so willing to submit to him. you projected this persona that made you seem like you take no shit from anyone and absolutely no one tells you what to do. when you started dating, eddie was expecting you to act like a brat, talking back to him and trying to make his life difficult. but, the more time you spent together the more it seemed to prove him wrong.

the sound of you chewing that gum is driving me mad and i need to concentrate, spit it out he says, half joking as he presents his palm. without question you let the chewed gum fall onto his hand, making his eyes widen with shock.

he starts testing the waters, seeing whether your just letting your guard down of whether you are really that willing to submit to him.

that’s my good girl making you melt into his lap, so good for me and grabbing you a little tighter than usual clearly had you flustered. it wasn’t until he climbed into your window and caught you in a particularly intimate moment that he realised you wanted him to completely take control. sprawled out on your bed, ass up, rubbing your clit furiously as you clung onto a teddy for dear life.

please daddy, please the way you were begging making his cock twitch in his pants. burying your face into the fur of your teddy to muffle your moans as you desperately humped your hand.

oh shit he groaned, leaning against your window as he soaked you in eagerly.

eddie- uh, shit i wasn’t expecting you here omg quickly turning around so you were sitting on your bed, moving the teddy so it covered your soaked cunt.

i can tell baby, who knew you were such a pretty sub smirking as he noticed how quickly the blood was rushing to your cheeks, so embarrassed about being caught you know you could have just told me that you wanted me to completely ruin you

i- eddie please don’t tease me, can we just pretend this didn’t happen you whine, hands fumbling with the ears of your teddy anxiously.

why would i ever want to pretend i didn’t see that? who would have thought that you of all people would want to be dominated, huh?

he’s now at the end of your bed, leaning down to so he is level to your ear you wanna be a good girl for daddy huh?

you moan lightly at his words, desperate for him to touch you when he finally connects your lips for a messy kiss. wrapping your hands behind his head you try to pull him closer to you, but instead he breaks the kiss.

how about we move this cute little teddy and show me how pretty your pussy is baby? nodding quickly, you throw the bear to the side and let him spread your legs slightly. his breath catches in his throat as he is met with the sight of your swollen cunt, wetness oozing out your desperate hole.

so so wet aren’t you? do you want daddy’s fingers or tongue first? eddie asks, running a finger up your slit as he waits for your response.

want your cock you pout, moaning at the way he is touching you.

gotta prep you for that honey, im gonna split you open so i need to make sure my girl is nice and wet for her daddy ok?

his words have you nodding furiously, opening your legs further for him as he slowly inserts a finger into your aching pussy. wasting no time in going slowly he starts fingering you furiously, trying to find your sweet spot quickly. eddie wanted this to be good for you, you had to be ready to take him but he was so hard he thought he was going to explode. his other hand finds your vest top and pulls it town to reveal your bare tits, pawing at them furiously.

oh my god, i- i’m so close you cry, already sensitive from having touched yourself before he got here. he lowers his head to your pussy and attaches his lips to your clit, sucking lightly. your orgasm washes over you embarrassingly quickly, making you grab your teddy to use his fur to muffle your cries. when he pulls away, covered in your cum, to see your swollen lips, cunt and pretty tits hanging out your vest clinging onto this teddy for dear life he thinks he is going to combust. tearing his shirt off as you fumble with his belt, finally freeing his painfully hard cock.

hold onto your teddy for me yeah? let daddy use you

#eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x reader #perv!eddie #eddie munson

[disneyprincemuke]

that's my man * matt + rocky

notes: this one is canon ok and much longer so pls hi

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

the first date

“so this is what you meant by you had something up your sleeve!”

the main doors of the hotel open and matt immediately spots the white range rover parked by the sidewalk. she’d been using her phone initially, looking up and whirling around as he called out to her.

“i know a guy who was willing to lend me his car.” she unveils her fisted hand, car keys ��� to presumably the car she’s cozied up with by the sidewalk — and grins. “i asked logan’s older brother if i could borrow his car for something tonight.”

“you’re as resourceful as you look absolutely gorgeous tonight,” he grins, stopping right in front of her on the sidewalk. “do you want me to drive? you did already take care of the transportation. seems like the least i could do.”

she scoffs, shaking her head and waving a hand in the air to dismiss him. “i don’t reckon you frequent south florida, do you? cause i kinda know a spot.”

“these are for you, by the way.” a blush creeps up the older man’s cheeks as he extends his arms, presenting her with a bouquet of red roses. “and, do you? frequent south florida?”

“aw, thank you. that’s so sweet,” she coos, taking the flowers into her hands. she peeks at him momentarily as she looks down at the flowers. “and i did growing up — i used to spend a couple weeks a year with logan’s family in miami, then a couple in melbourne with oscar’s.”

“very ms worldwide of you to do so!” matt teases. “so, you said you know a spot? you’re not going to kill me, are you?”

she unlocks the car and turns. “not on the first date, matt. that’s third date activity.”

the first night over (at hers)

“is hijacker okay? he’s been staring at me for like… the past 3 hours i’ve been here,” matt whispers, pointing at the cat that’s perked up on the cat tree in the corner of the living room. “won’t even let me introduce myself to him — just walks away.”

the girl, left momentarily to fix themselves a drink, saunters back in with a tired sigh. she glances momentarily at the cat still staring at matt from across the room and grins. “jack doesn’t like anyone but logan. he hates me too. watch.”

matt raises his eyebrows as she puts the cups down on the coffee table. she perks up and turns sharply to hijacker. the black cat in the blue collar flinches slightly at her sudden action, its ears lowering slightly.

“jack, baby. wanna cuddle?” she takes a mere step towards the cat tree and hijacker leans back with a soft hiss. she turns back to matt. “see? i’ve fed that cat for like 6 months now — still hates me.”

“and kidnapper’s an extrovert?”

she glances at the cat that’s taken it’s spot on matt’s lap, loafed up and eyes closed. “i think he just likes you. he avoided logan for like 3 months before he accepted the fact that logan comes with the home i gave him.”

“and stubby?”

their heads turn to the dog that’s fallen asleep by the dog bowl. she shrugs. “he just really likes sleeping on the floor by the bowls. we usually find him there in the morning.”

“i respect where the priorities lie for stubby,” matt jokes.

he stretches his arms as she approaches him, slowly sitting herself on the couch and nuzzling herself into him. “thanks for flying over to keep me company.”

“well, you were hinting that you were lonely cause logan’s out of town. i had to come by and make sure you’re good,” matt grins. “thanks for not turning me away when i texted you that i was downstairs.”

“ah.” she scrunches her nose, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “who could ever turn down such a cute guy when he shows up with flowers so suddenly?” she has a hand on his chest as she looks up at him a cheesy grin. “seems silly for me to do so.”

“and i missed you, so,” matt shrugs with a teasing grin, glancing down at her. “had to come down and see my girl.”

the first crash

“rocky, someone keeps calling you. matt something?”

“is that why i heard ciara screaming?” the girl sits up from the bed and sighs, scratching her head. “you know matt, blythe?”

“no, but i did listen to ciara scream about it for like 10 minutes,” blythe laughs. she hands over the phone to her older sister. “anyway, he asked to speak with you — said he was worried cause he saw your crash and you haven’t spoken to him since you started the race in montreal.”

she hums, eyes fluttering. “right. that’s because you guys took my phone from me.”

“that’s because you kept trying to call oscar and sing him the national anthem of the united states,” blythe rolls her eyes with a soft laugh. “how do you even know that?”

“i memorised it to terrorise logan while we lived together,” she grins. “anyway, i’ll call matt to let him know i’m alright. thank you for giving me back my phone.”

“well, i’ll leave you to it,” blythe mutters, halfway out the door with a small grin. “say hi to ‘matt’ for me. whoever he is.” she peeks in one last time. “tell me about this guy, mate. i can’t believe you’re seeing somebody and didn’t tell me.”

she rolls her eyes, sinking into her bed as she dials for matt. she doesn’t know what blythe had said to him, but he immediately picks up.

“hey! i was starting to get worried for you!” is the first thing matt says when she picks up. “was starting to get kinda worried for you.”

“aw, you’re worried for me?” she teases with a small grin. “and how did you know i crashed out anyway?”

matt tilts his head. “what do you mean how do i know? i watched the race.”

she giggles, throwing her head back. “you watched the race? so you saw me screaming at logan and hitting him in the back of his head with my glove?”

“i did,” he scrunches his nose and shakes his head, “don’t tell anyone, but i thought it was funny. i don’t condone it, but it’s funny. anyhoo, is everything okay?”

“thank you?” she laughs. “well, i’m okay. i was just super high on painkillers the past 2 days. i was asleep the entire flight back too.”

“what about with logan? your sister texted me back so i’m assuming you didn’t go back to london?”

“logan and i fought. i didn’t think going back to the apartment would do anyone any good, you know? i’ll probably talk to him in a couple days.”

he raises his eyebrows. “really?”

“probably not. he turned into me,” she frowns. “but, anyway, how cute of you to call until my sister decided to finally pick up!”

“well, i was concerned. and i missed you,” he sighs with a small grin. “but if you’re not doing anything, do you wanna stay on call? we can play a game or something.”

the first ‘i love you’

she never thought that she’d find herself back in her parents’ house with a man that’s neither logan nor oscar

she drops herself on her bed next to matt, sighing exasperatedly. she turns her head to smile at him slightly. “thank you for agreeing to meet my family on such short notice. papa was interested — i don’t really date often.”

“absolutely. it’s a pleasure meeting them.” he turns his head to grin at her, scrunching his nose. “i had a lot of fun today.”

“really? my missing sister didn’t raise questions?”

“hey, i don’t blame her for not attending dinner.”

“ah, good for you. cause i do.”

she tears her eyes away from him and looks up at the ceiling of her bedroom. surrounding her light are glow-in-the-dark stars and a moon, stuck up there when she was 15. “you know, i used to be really scared of the dark.”

“no way,” matt giggles, following her gaze. “how did you get those up there? you’re not…”

“oscar and logan helped me. i used to force blythe to sleep in my bedroom with me with a nightlight switch on in the corner of my bedroom over there,” she laughs, sitting up and pointing over at a secluded area in the bedroom where her bookshelf sits. “but she wanted to eventually sleep in her own room so we had to find a way to combat sleeping alone at nights.”

“and who came up with the great idea of the stars and the moon on the ceiling?”

“oscar,” she purses her lips and turns her head again to face him. “i feel really bad sneaking behind his and logan’s backs. but i’m really afraid that they’ll scare you away.”

“what? why would you be afraid of that, bub?” she reclines to lay on her back again with a huff. he reaches over to pinch her cheek tenderly with a small grin. “surely they’re not as bad as you say they are.”

“but they are.” she turns to lie on her side to face him with a frown. “they sat me down in a meeting room for 15 minutes once just to give me dating advice, matt. no sane group of people would do that — they had a buzzer and everything!”

true, it might sound a little absurd. “i think they just really care for you, bubs. you must find it a little endearing that they did that for you.”

“it was except one of them kept saying that every guy i’ll meet is a pervert,” she whispers, scrunching her nose as she tries to hold back a giggle from the memory. “i want you to like them, you know? they mean a lot to me. and especially… you know… oscar and logan. they’re my best friends.”

“don’t overthink it, bub. everything will be okay,” he whispers back. “and i love you, so it’ll work out.”

she hums, eyebrows shooting up as everything around her starts to disappear. there’s a ringing in her ears as her heart starts to race in her chest. “you what? you do?”

“did i just say that?” he squints at her with a teasing grin. she furrows her eyebrows and pulls her head back with a frown. “i’m kidding. of course, i do. i love you. but just because i said it does not mean that you have to say it back.”

she’s had one relationship in her lifetime, with someone whose name she can barely even remember. at 16, everything means the world, but at 21, it just no longer seems so serious.

this is technically her first boyfriend; or so blythe claims.

“i do,” she whispers after a moment of silence. she sits up, body twisted to hover over him a small grin. she bites down on her bottom lip. she’s not one to be emotional too often. “i love you.”

the first time

a gasp passes her lips when matt’s lips leave hers, peppering a trail of kisses from the corner of her lips down to her neck. it wasn’t a problem until she felt his fingers grazing over the exposed skin where her shirt had hiked up her stomach.

she puts a hand on his shoulder and pulls away, shaking her head. “i’m–”

but it’s like he’d immediately known. which throws her off a little bit because she had a whole speech laid out in her head and everything. “i’m sorry. have i made you uncomfortable?” he tears his hands from her and moves back on the couch slightly to increase his distance from her. “we don’t need to do anything.”

she blinks at him a couple of times, forcing matt to open his mouth again. “like if you don’t want to. it’s okay.”

“it’s not that,” she trails off, scratching the back of her neck with a soft and sheepish chuckle. she purses her lips and lifts her eyes to look at him. “i’ve just…”

he lifts his eyebrows to try and urge her to continue her sentence. she sighs again and throws her head back, chuckling slightly. “what’s wrong? is everything okay?”

“it’s just,” she drops her head with flushed cheeks and an embarrassed grin, “i’ve never had–” she pauses to swallow the lump in her throat, “sex before.”

“oh.” he furrows his eyebrows before he sits up straighter. “oh!”

“laugh it out. i’m a 21-year-old virgin,” she turns to hide her face away with a soft laugh, waving a hand in the air to dismiss his concerns. “get it over with now that i’m admitting it to you.”

“what?” he hunches over to look at her with a small grin. “why are you embarrassed? that’s like… perfectly normal.”

she shrugs. “i feel like it’s weird that i frequent the club and i’m still a virgin, you know? i don’t know — some guys have said that to me.”

he laughs, and drops himself back on the couch, tugging on her sleeve to rest her on his body. “it doesn’t matter. i’m sorry i made you uncomfortable — i didn’t know.”

“and now i’ve ruined the whole moment,” she whines, tearing herself off of him again. she twists her body to look at him. “i do want to; i just thought you should know that… you know, i’ve never had sex.”

“you do?” matt tears his attention from the tv, the movie she’d initially chosen and eventually got bored of still fills the empty air of her apartment. “we don’t have to unless you’re really ready.”

she purses her lips and blinks. “i just thought it was something you should know. in case you were expecting me to be good?”

he furrows his eyebrows. “that’s ridiculous.”

“i don’t really know anything so i guess that’s kinda embarrassing,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “i don’t want to be like–”

he sits up, inching slightly closer and with a small grin. “bub. i’ve got you, okay?”

she grins. “okay.”

the first night over (at his)

matt tugs on her arm. “get up, bub.”

“no.”

“if i got you ice cream for breakfast?”

the girl, sprawled out on his bed, lifts her head with her eyebrows raised. “really?”

he grins with a nod. “only if you get up now.”

“but i can’t,” she sighs exasperatedly, dropping her head back on the pillow that matt’s put underneath her head. “kota and i have a contractual agreement to cuddle until the sun comes up.”

“really? did she tell you that?” he asks monotonously, glancing at the siberian husky that’s laid over her smaller frame. “did she also tell you that if i say ‘treat’,” his voice perks up and along with it, so does kota’s head to look at him, “that she’ll get up with no question?”

“that’s bribery, your honour,” she snorts, rolling her eyes. “what are you asking me to get up for anyway? i thought it was bed time.”

he hums, “i found this really cool and interesting ice cream parlour. it’s open til midnight if you wanna go.”

a squeak passes her lips, a small grin making its way to her face. “ice cream for supper and breakfast? you spoil me too much, maltesers.”

he hunches over, his face hovering inches from her face. “my girlfriend deserves the best. so, you up for it? we can take kota with us for a walk and some treats.”

she nods excitedly. “i never say ‘no’ to ice cream.”

the first dnf

the safety car comes to a stop right by the paddocks. the girl mutters a soft ‘thank you’ before immediately pushing the door open to leave.

she has her helmet in her hands as she walks with her head low, jaw clenched as she tries her hardest to contain the sob she feels threatening to come out of her.

if she could, she’d tear down all of the walls around her and scream. but she can’t. because around her are cameras pointed at her with fans gawking as she passes them. it’s not their fault her car couldn’t handle the heat.

she makes a sharp turn for the andretti racing home, head hung low until she opens the glass doors in.

“aw, bub.”

she lifts her head from the ground and sighs heavily, shoulders slumping at the sight of the familiar green eyes she’s been hoping to see when she got into the safety car. she lets the door close behind her, throwing her head back as she closes her eyes. “matt.”

“aw, i’m sorry, bub.”

she lets out a soft whine as she finally lets out the sob she’s been holding in for the past 10 minutes, running over to where her boyfriend stands by the bottom of the stairs, expecting her.

she sighs exasperatedly as she takes large steps towards him, tears starting to fall out of her eyes. she lets out a huff when matt’s hands grab at her shoulders firmly, eyes piercing into her own. “hey, hey,” he hums softly, “cameras are pointed at you. keep it together for like 30 more seconds until we get up to your room.”

“what?” she breathes shakily, eyebrows furrowing.

she looks around teary-eyed, only then noticing that not everyone had left the racing home for the race. or perhaps they had rushed back when she retired from the race from an overheating car.

matt’s right — she’d get torn apart by the media and the fans; everyone if she’s to show one moment of vulnerability. it’s just her reality.

“oh,” she turns back to him and hangs her head low again, “okay, let’s just go upstairs for a bit. i need to be at the garage in a while, i think. seb might be looking for me.”

“okay,” he nods, wrapping a protective arm around her as they turn away to head up the stairs. he tries his best to keep her out of the view of cameras and prying eyes, but they both know it’s nearly impossible to keep her name clear of tabloids in a couple of hours.

he presses a tender kiss on her temple and in return, she looks up at him with a small and fragile smile. “come on, let’s get you all patched up before we head back to the garage.”

the first fight

she throws her arms in the air, lips pursed. “it just doesn’t make sense.”

“rocky.” matt’s green eyes pierce into her own, the girl standing her ground and fighting for her cause. he sees where she’s coming from, but realistically, he can’t wrap his head around why there’s arguing about it. “i had one scoop of ice cream with mick.”

“yeah,” she tilts her head, “without me.”

he blinks. “because you were in your car for practice. i couldn’t have possibly gone up to you while you sat in your car and offered you a bite.”

she takes a step back and points a finger at him. “did you even try?”

“try–” he furrows his eyebrows and scowls slightly. “do you want me to get banned from your garage, rocky? why would i even try and give you food while you’re in your car?”

“just say you don’t care about me, matthew!”

“that’s so not what it– what is that?”

the girl standing by the door whirls around to her door, a soft tune coming from the hallway. she glances back at matt with furrowed eyebrows to which he shrugs, just as confused as her.

“i literally know that song,” she trails off softly, “but i can’t place my finger on it. i can’t–”

before you go and make that face when you’re mad at me

“liam lawson!” she stomps her feet on the ground and fully turns away from matt. she swings the door open and is only met by a speaker sitting lonely on the ground as matt’s voice consumes the entire second floor of the andretti garage. “where are you?”

“you can’t find me!”

matt tilts his head in amusement as his girlfriend bends over to pick up the speaker. she makes a sharp turn before a loud squeal is heard, followed by a bunch of smacks, then another string of screams.

“i told you to not play that song, liam! why are you the way that you are?”

“why did you date someone with the apology song and not use it? it’s not my fault, rocky!”

“you’re so annoying, liam!”

“but–”

“stop playing that song when we’re fighting!”

matt hears a door slam closed, and a couple of footsteps before she reappears at the opened door of her driver’s room. she sighs heavily and shuts her eyes for a moment. “i’m so sorry for him. what were we fighting about again?”

“i ate ice cream while you were out on the track for practice,” matt points out. “i’ll buy you a pint and give you a massage as truce? i’m sorry i ate without you.”

she grins. “okay. time to sing the song again, by the way! that’s the only way i’ll accept your apology.”

“a kiss won’t do.”

she shakes her head, hands on her hips as she closes the door behind her. “no can do. only the song will make me smile again.”

“okay, only because i love you.”

#f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 grid x reader #f1 female driver #formula one x reader #fem!driver #f1 fem!driver #female driver #disneyprincemuke vr #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #vettel reincarnate #dpm vr: macky

[steddio]

Steve is used to pushing through pain. Sure, the adrenaline of a life or death moment is one thing but when that fades and all that’s left is stinging cuts and tender swelling and a full-body bone-deep ache there’s no excuse for letting weakness show. Or letting others see the lingering migraines, achey joints, and night terrors that continue to wound his body and psyche even once everything is “back to normal.” Ingrained in him since an unforgiving childhood, Steve’s grit-your-teeth-and-bear-it philosophy has served him perfectly well and he sees nothing wrong with it, thank you very much.

Until he meets Eddie. Eddie who curses, shouts, screams and cries his pain, broadcasting it to those around him with his typical dramatic flair. Eddie whose eyes betray every feeling and emotion, amplified tenfold by the flailing of too-long limbs and gesturing of ring-bedecked fingers. Eddie who sees right through Steve’s facade to the core of his pain.

It starts with Eddie giving Steve an obvious once-over each time he sees him, checking for visible injury, the lasting echo of shared trauma. Steve knows how to navigate this, having faked his way through countless minor sports injuries in order to stay off the bench and in the game. What Steve doesn’t know how to navigate is what comes after. Unlike Steve’s coaches, who accepted his apparent well-being without question, Eddie has an unnerving tendency to locate the exact source of Steve’s discomfort.

“Harrington, are you limping? Cut the shit and sit down over there, I told you not to overwork your bad knee.”

“Ok big boy, pull over. I’m driving and that’s final. Don’t argue with me, you can’t even see straight. Driving with a migraine is definitely worse than my driving, dude.”

“You look like shit, go home, I’ll help Robin close. Yes, yes, I got it, how hard can it be?”

Eventually, and even worse, Eddie moves beyond snarky well-meaning comments to saying nothing but doing everything. Like shooing the younger kids out of Steve’s house when he’s starting to squint against the bright lights and loud conversation. Or grabbing heavy bags from Steve’s hands before he’s even halfway from the car to the door. Or wordlessly turning up the stereo when Steve needs something, anything to drown out the ringing and echoing screaming in his ears.

At first, being seen hurts more than the actual pain. Stripped raw by the casual tenderness, the sheer humanity zinging at newly exposed nerves. Steve doesn’t know how to handle this breakdown of his primary defense mechanism. He tries to keep shrugging Eddie’s concern away, but Eddie is relentless. Eddie “willing to repeat senior year three times rather than drop out” Munson is entirely undeterred by Steve’s patented nonchalance. Despite it all, he keeps caring. And Steve has no choice but to accept the tidal wave that is Eddie’s concern.

It takes a while, for Steve to recalibrate his self-perception. So used to shoving it aside, he has to learn again how to really feel pain. How to acknowledge it, respond to it. How to attend to his own discomfort the way he attends to Robin’s, or Dustin’s, or Max’s.

The first time he cancels plans with the gang because of a migraine he’s overcome by guilt. He’s five seconds away from calling back to say just kidding he is totally fine and would love to drive everyone to the movies when he hears a knock at the door. Before he can even fully open the door, Eddie barges in.

“Harrington! Where are your towels, I brought you drugs, the legal ones don’t worry, go lay down, what are you doing standing there gawking, here swallow this and put this over your head.”

Before he can fully process what’s happening, Steve is manhandled onto his own couch, a cool damp towel over his eyes and forehead, and Eddie is back out the front door shouting that he’ll check in on Steve after the movie ends.

The second time he cancels plans, his bad knee too achey to make the trek out to Dustin’s radio to celebrate his and Suzie’s anniversary, Steve is still guilty, but almost unsurprised when Eddie turns up at his door, rented movie in hand, shouting at Steve to ice and elevate his damn knee already.

After a while, the guilt goes away, replaced by a bone deep security that’s brand new to Steve, a quiet reassurance that it’s okay to put himself first, it doesn’t make him selfish or bad or pathetic or weak or any of the things his dad used to shout at him before he learned to mask himself. Replaced by an overwhelming fondness for Eddie and his exuberant care, the way he wears his feelings like his tattoos, on his bare skin.

After a while, Steve realizes that not all of Eddie’s once overs are checking for pain, sometimes they’re simply for checking him out. And this, this he knows how to handle.

The tenth time Steve cancels plans, he’s waiting at the door for Eddie to arrive. Eddie is all blurred motion and Bambi-eyed concern, looking for Steve’s source of pain. Steve points to his cheek.

“One too many direct hits and my whole face gets achey when the weather changes.”

Eddie turns, no doubt intending to rummage through Steve’s kitchen until he can find ibuprofen, or ice, or anything. Before he can get far, Steve catches his arm and turns Eddie to face him.

“Maybe you can kiss it better?”

#steddie #stranger things #steddie drabble #steve harrington #eddie munson #this is... the first ficlet / drabble i've ever posted #A writes

[blosssombunnny]

𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼

Height, Dom vs Sub, Sex drive, Fave thing physically about themself, Chest/Thighs/Ass, etc

┆ ┆° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

Warnings: nsfw, I’m a tall girl so to make myself feel better I make them all tall af hehe. !Female reader!!!

Lucifer is 7’ tall in my humble opinion. I believe he is a Mean Dom 85% of the time. The other percent is him being a sub-ish switch. He will not hesitate to punish you. Even when subbing. He can switch back to being an asshole really fast.

“Tch… What did you think would happen? You need to learn to stop mouthing off.”

He will make you beg for mercy :) Whether that’s on your knees or on your back. He likes to embarrass you and make you blush and stutter. It makes him feel powerful. He would pay Mammon 1 million Grimm to get you on your knees on his hard wood floor. Staring with crossed arms at the pathetic thing before him.

His sex drive is probably Medium to High. But he tries to ignore that part of himself. So when you two first start fooling around it might be hard for him to hold back that repressed energy. 

His size is 8” and its a little less girthy than a pop can lol. It’s very veiny and cut. His balls are slightly bigger than average. About golf ball sized. He loves having that skin sucked on. He is very very muscular, like Diavolo, but is more of a rectangle build. He’s not quite as big as Dia either but comes close. His hair is a dark raven with a very subtle undercut.

His favorite part of himself… he wouldn’t admit it, but he loves his smirk. He’s knows what it does to you. He’s also loves his hands. He’s sees how you stare and will try to flex them and make the veins pop out. On you however, he’s definitely loves your ass. He wants to smack it ever time you walk past him.

Mammon is 6’8” :) I believe he is about 65% dom and 35% sub and 100% brat. He wants to be a cool mean dom so bad but he really can’t handle it most of the time.

“Come here…. Just… come here ok?!”

He’ll grab your elbows and pull you in close. You don’t miss the quiver he has in his voice. He won’t say what he wants unless you really push him to do it. It’s to embarrassing to admit for him. But he has no problem making you do the same when he’s fully in control.

I think his drive is pretty high. But he gets a lot of that satisfaction from gambling and doing risky things to compensate for not having sex. It takes a special kind of person to understand Mammon and he hasn’t found many people like that. But with you… he’d be willing to go all day. Someone who loves him for him. Someone who can make him feel happy and heard. He can’t resist it.

His dick is 7 1/2” but he’ll tell you it’s 8 ;) it’s about the thickness of a healthy cucumber. Not as thick as Lucifer’s. He is uncut and pretty veiny. But it’s mostly covered by the extra skin. His balls are about the same size as Lucifer’s but the skin feels a bit looser. They smack harder against your ass ;) He is very well built and works out often with Beel. His hair is pure with an iridescent tint. It’s gorgeous and soft.

His favorite part of himself is his torso. He’s jacked and loves to tell people about it. He knows it makes people blush. And for you he loves your chest. He loves to tease you by touching them and flicking your nipples through your shirt. He likes to feel them perk up and see you squirm.

Leviathan is 6’6”. He is 70% sub and 30% soft dom. He can go hard but it’s very rare. He doesn’t want to hurt his precious doll. It’s really hard to get him to initiate. When you do it he gets flustered…

“H-Henry!? What’re you saying?… N-No! I don’t think we should do that…”

-5 seconds of eye contact-

“O-ok… maybe we can.”

If you look. You’ll see him twitching in his pants at this point. If you continue to advance he won’t resist much. He will definitely whine a bit and complain but he’s loving it. His whines and cries make both of you blush. Sometimes, if you’re being to cruel with teasing he will put you back in your place. He still wants to feel like your big strong knight in shining armor. He will flip you over and pound you until he can release all that teasing you have done. It’s your turn to beg and whine. But he won’t have any of it. I think his sex drive is low but he thinks it’s a lot higher. He’s always horny but sex is too draining for him to do too often.

His top dick is 7.5” and the bottom is 8”, both are very thick. A little less than Lucifer’s. He doesn’t shower regularly… His torso is the least built of his brothers. He’s pretty skinny and doesn’t have much muscle or fat. He has a toned body but it’s just quite thin. He is also very pale and has almost blueish skin. His hair is dark blue and slightly wavy. It lays a bit fluffier on his head.

His favorite part about himself are his cocks of course. How could you not be proud of that. They aren’t very veiny and he is uncut. His balls are average size and kind of tight. He lovesssssss your thighs. A close second is your chest. Your thighs are just so plush and perfect. He loves to mark up the skin with hickies and bites.

Satan is 6’10”. He is 90% Dom and 10% little kitten. Every once in a while he will want to play the sub role. But it is not at all common for him to ask for that. He likes to be in control and punish you over little things. He will of course have a safe word (like all the others) in case he goes too far.

“Mmm no not yet. You can take a little more cant you kitten?… Ohh yes you can. Cum once more for me ok?”

His words are so sweet and smooth. It’s impossible to deny him. His drive is pretty low but when you do it he is going to make it count and make you feel good. He prefers other methods of showing intimacy and love.

His cock is 8.5” and an average girth. It is slender compared to most of the others. The only thinner one is Asmo’s by a little. He is cut. He has a very beautiful body. Think Greek marble statue. Not too big, not to thin. Simply a work of art. He has amazingly detailed muscles. Why must he always hide these. His hair is a beautiful blonde. It almost shimmers gold in the sun. You can see it glint at certain angles.

His favorite part of himself is his powerful stare and words. He can make you come undone just by his looks and savory sweet words. He knows exactly what to say and when to say it. He seems like he’d be a thigh man. He loves to place a hand there while reading and working. It’s his favorite place to lay his head when you read to him.

Asmo is 6’ even. Not unusually tall. It looks great on him. He is 70% Switch and Tease, 20% Full Sub, 10% Soft Dom. He loves to do everything. Even all at once. He usually will choose to be a teasing and slightly bratty sub. Name a better power bottom.

“Oh my god MC. You just looked so beautiful in that dress. I’m sorry I dirtied it but I’ll buy you another! I love when you dress up all pretty for me.”

Even if he ruins an outfit with… fluids, you won’t be mad at him for a long period of time. You can’t be mad at that gorgeous, sweet face. He’s too precious. Something about his eyes really draws you in. Sometimes you can sense the warm pink glow emanating from his eyes. His drive is whatever yours is. He can accommodate to anybody. Do you want some space? You got it you want to have sex five times a day OK sounds good to me!  Truly, the best thing about this man is how well he understands emotion and relationships.

His cock varies from person to person. He can slightly change his cock to make it more suitable for the recipient. Normally it is 6.5” and slender. It’s beautiful and pink. It it’s uncut and smells like roses. It tastes phenomenal. Sometimes it’s a little bigger. Sometimes a little smaller. With or without veins and hair. He can change it all. His body is similar to Satans. God statue 2.0. He is slightly more slim and feminine however. He has slightly wider hips and a slim waist. He is slightly tanned too. His hair is also fluffier like Levi’s. It is also a peachy pink.

His favorite part of himself is everything! But if you make him choose he would say his tongue and then start winking and poking you while giggling. His favorite part of you is your neck and shoulder area. He lovesss to mark it up and feel the pretty bones. He sees them as an amazing sculpture of some sort. He loves to massage you as well. Especially your shoulders

Beel is 7’3”. A massive friend, I know. He knows too kind of. He is 60% Soft Dom, 20% Neutral, 15% Hard Dom, and 5% Sub. He loves to feel like he has control and is protecting something cute and small. He loves it. It makes him feel almost feral.

“MC get back please. I’m begin serious when I tell you I will not hold back.”

He is hard to get a read on but once you do it’s often when it’s right on top of you… You’ll quickly realize he is a very good dom. He suddenly finds his words and will speak up and speak often. It’s a bit surprising at first. You don’t listen to his warning, you find out the consequences. His drive is Low to Medium. He doesn’t need a lot of sex to feel good intimately. He finds intimacy in eating together, bathing together, just cuddling too. He is a big teddy bear after all

His cock is big. It’s really big. It is 9.5” and a little less thick than a soda can like Lucifer. His balls are Heavy. They are big and smack you hard when he fucks you like the animal he is. His cock is uncut and has a bit of a musk. It is very clean though. It’s very veiny and heavy. When fully hard it can’t stand very straight. The weight pulls it down. His body is hands down the best in shape. He works out daily and is in peak physical health and has been for the past 300 years. He has a light tan. His hair is dark orange and a bit more dark red at the roots.

His favorite part of himself is his mouth unironically. He loves it because that is his only way to eat. And he also loves it because he can enjoy his favorite meal and pleasure the meal with doing it!

“Ass or Tits Beel?”

“Mmmpussy.” As drool drips from his mouth

He just loves your beautiful pussy so much. It’s gorgeous to look at. It tastes amazing. It feels so good. It smells so sweet. He would do anything for another taste.

Belphegor is 6’2”. He is 100% brat. But other than that he is 50% Dom, 30% Neutral, and 20% Sub. When he’s being dominant it can look and feel pretty cruel. But then he also loves to let you take the reins and fuck him while he lays there and is pleasured like a pillow princess. Sometimes he will like to play the sub role.

“Tch. I’ll bite you if you don’t stop squirming. Just let me lay here for a minute.”

He will try to touch your chest and feel around. He may ever end up jumping your thighs as he lays on top of you. He will always persuade you into doing most of the heavy lifting. His drive is kinda hard to tell. It’s not super high and intense. It’s more like, he doesn’t need sex a lot but will always accept it and enjoy it if you offer. Even if it’s every morning and night. Just don’t expect him to do any crazy positions that are tiring.

His cock is 6.5” and is the smallest of his brothers. Amos’s is slightly bigger. It is uncut and has a strong musk. His balls are average and kind of tight. He has a fair amount of pubic hair. His cock is long and pretty like Satan’s. Just shorter. That doesn’t matter though. It still hits all the right places. For some it might even be the best since they are all so much larger than humans normally. His body is pretty thin and is similar to Asmo’s build. But Belphie has less muscle mass because he doesn’t do much exercise. He has messy and slightly tangled dark bluish grey hair.

His favorite part of himself is his fingers. He is a master with them. That’s all I will say hehe. His favorite thing on you is your chest. He loves holding them, squishing them, licking them, laying on them. Anything to feel the soft skin.

Diavolo is 7’5” and the tallest in my Headcanons! He is a confusing mix of desperate Sub and handsy Dom. He will take the Dom role about 75% of the time. The other 25% is him being a sub and releasing his mommy issues.

“Mmm MC please… Just say it again. Right in my ears, say ‘I love you Diavolo’.”

Touched Starved. Barbatos and Lucifer keep him at such a distance from everyone. He wants nothing more than contact. And when you give him that he will get addicted. He’ll beg you to let him breed you and make you a Queen. But don’t make him wait too long. He’ll get impatient.

His cock is 10” and is the biggest in Devildom. It’s massive and so thick. His balls are so heavy and big, another set of breeder balls. They leave bruises on your ass from how hard he will pound into you. It’s cut and so veiny. He keeps it nice and clean but always seems to have a slight musk. His body is amazing. He isn’t as muscular as Beel but he’s still bigger. He has such a beautiful inverted triangle body shape. His skin is a beautiful and warm medium tan color and his hair is a light wine red.

His favorite part about himself is his thighs. He loves watching you grind in them. He can be a bit mean and humiliating but he always makes it up so good for you. His thighs are so thigh and big. Perfect for sitting on. His favorite thing about you is your ass. He loves grabbing it and watching it move as you do… anything really. It’s so perfect to him. But so is everything else about you.

Barbatos is 6’4” and one hell of a butler. He is comfortable being either role. But his preference is to be Dom 95% of the time. The other 5% is Sub.

“MC please let me take care of you tonight. You have been working so hard. I’ll make you feel so much better.”

He won’t stop till you are completely satisfied. He loves to be in control and please you. He will take orders from you and do what you want but he is always the one who is controlling everything else. The movements, the speed, when you can cum. He can be so mean but will never leave you unsatisfied.

His cock is about 7.5 inches and cut. It’s thickness was pretty average. Enough to give you some stretch but not too much as to hurt you. He always smells fresh and clean. His cum also vaguely tastes like cleaner. His balls are nice and round, tight too. He keeps himself clean shaven down there. He’s slender but surprisingly strong. He must be. What if Diavolo passes out.

His favorite part of himself is his hands. He’s very good with them. Massages are amazing from him. He rarely takes his gloves off but will for you. He would not want to tell you what his favorite part of you was. But if you beg he will break. He loves your beautiful eyes. He loves watching them tear up as you pout.

~~~

A/N wow this took forever to write 🫠 hope you all enjoy

#obey me #lucifer #om #Diavolo #obey me smut #obey me headcanons #hc #headcanon #mammon #Levi #leviathan #Satan #Asmo #Asmodeus #Beelzebub #belphie #belpheghor #om barbatos #barbatos

[perictione00]

Selfish

Ch 4: Lost

Pairing: Geto Suguru x reader

Warning: Mentions of death and mental degeneration.

Synopsis: You left the Jujutsu World behind the moment the source of your warmth turned cold. So what happens when you come face to face with that one episode in your life that you wanted to obliterate? Simple, you reap what you sow.

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Ch 3

2008

It was so lonely. Life became so monotonous, so stagnant. You had no classmates or friends. You had stopped talking to Shoko and Gojo after Suguru left. After Gojo blamed you for driving his best friend insane. He wasn't wrong, but you didn't want things to turn out this way. The guilt of his parents' deaths, innocent civilians who loved him unconditionally, was taking a toll on you. The blood was on your hands, and you were drowning. There were constant voices in your head, telling you to let go and be free, but somehow you knew that you could never let that happen. You could never let go. The nightmares were back, but this time it didn't feel like it was the doing of any curse but yourself.

The incident hadn't only disturbed you, but it had Yaga questioning his ability to teach. How was he so blind to the suffering of his student? He regrets not asking Geto about his sudden weight loss or how hopeless his eyes looked when he was assigning him to his last mission. He had been so busy making his students capable that it took him too long to notice their volatile mental states. But not again. He's never going to lose another student of his to a lowly curse or an unacceptable ideology. He knew that he couldn't help people who didn't want to be helped, but in your case, the least he could do was try. And just like that, he noticed your deteriorating condition right away. The dark circles under your eyes, the paranoia in your body language. You were not present in the moment. It was obvious that something was wrong with you. His suspicions were proven right when you didn't respond to your name being called out twice.

"What's on your mind?" He asked, walking closer to you. Yaga was a man of few words, but he was willing to open up to his students if that was what it took to help them.

"Huh-oh, nothing". You replied absent-mindedly. The nightmares were getting out of hand. It felt like they were melting into your reality. Were you really surrounded by curses? Did one of them latch on to you? With every passing second, you were losing touch with reality.

"Suguru was troubled. He was already on edge. It's not your fault that he left. He had no one, but you do. You can talk to me anytime about anything that's troubling you."

His multiple attempts to understand you and his consoling words were falling on deaf ears. Maybe it was your fault. Everything turned foggy the moment he abandoned you. How could you not blame yourself when his actions reflected your conversations with him? Were you wrong to entertain such thoughts? Should you have tried harder to change his perspective? It was confusing to have to deal with everything all of a sudden. Was this how he felt when he was alone?

You went to a restaurant for a change of scenery. The same one where you tried new things with Suguru. It was an unconscious decision, and you didn't realize it until you took a seat. You were alone. You had never been alone at this restaurant. Was everyone looking at you? Were they pitying you for sitting alone? Should you start doing something on your cellphone to appear busy? Why was there so much noise in your head? People were talking too loudly. Were they screaming too, or was it all in your head? Was that curse staring at you? Why were you feeling like throwing up? Your heart's not beating normally. Your vision is turning bloody. What-?

"Here's your order—are you ok? Do you need anything? Please wait. I'll come with some water." The waitress said this as she ran to the counter.

You didn't know that you were sweating profoundly and breathing abnormally, basically hyperventilating. Your head was aching like hell, your throat was literally a desert, and you were trembling. Why was this happening right now, of all times? You didn't want more eyes on you. The feeling of utter helplessness and embarrassment was too much to bear. Fuck, your nose was bleeding. Why are the tissues so far out of reach? The voices were louder than ever.

It's them. It's all because of them. Kill them; you'll feel better, I promise.

They're looking at you. They're all looking at you.

No. Please stop.

You killed his parents. You wanted him to kill his parents.

Look at that kid laughing at you. Let's melt it.

Let go. Let go now.

Tears were streaming down your face. You were losing it. You wanted to stop thinking. You wanted to go back home. You wanted your parents.

"Hey. I'm here. I've got you." Suguru reassured you as he pulled you to his chest, shielding your body. He knew it the moment he felt it. This had happened before, your meltdown. The enormous amount of familiar cursed energy that he felt was leaking from this building attracted many 2nd grade curses in your direction. He wondered what would've happened had he not been here. In no way was he here to protect the unworthy souls that were crowding this place. He was here for you.

"What-...what? Are you real?" The shock was evident in your voice. You were sobbing, and your eyes were begging for his existence to be true, yet at the same time, you didn't know how to face him. How was he here? What was he doing here?

"You need to come with me right now." It was wrong. He should've been helping you, but instead here he was, requesting that you follow him.

"This is not real. No. God, please."

"Hey, hey, I'm here; I'm real. We need to get out of here." You were shivering, covering your ears with your hands. A few more minutes, and the curse energy surge would alert a nearby sorcerer.

"Here, please help yourself with some wat-" Finally, it was all silent.

Screams erupted in the cafe as the head of the waitress exploded, splattering blood everywhere. You had done it. You had crossed every limit, and there's no going back now. A broken smile decorated your hopeless face. In this moment, you had lost everything. How did it come to this? You didn't give in, so why was this happening to you? Were you never in control to begin with? What a fucking joke!

"It's okay. It's going to be okay. Come on, please." Suguru led your trembling form out of the cafe. He knew what you were going through. He knew that this incident was going to scar you forever. However, he does not regret it. He does not regret blind siding you. He does not regret killing the waitress. Geto Suguru was a kind man, but he was a man nonetheless. So when it came to you, he was shamelessly selfish.

Ch 5

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader smut #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto jjk #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader angst #gojo satoru x reader #nanami kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #geto x reader fluff #jjk x reader fluff #suguru geto x reader #jjk s2 #jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader

[hyolks]

I'm back on my bullshit so heres a hoshihina post

we simply DO NOT TALK enough about how long hoshiumi WAITED????? FOR HINATA??????? FIVE YEARS??????

LIKE?????? HOW TF IS THIS GLOSSED OVER DURING THE ALDERS V JACKALS MATCH ASIDE FROM THIS ONE PANNEL AND A COUPLE OF TEXT BUBBLES????

THIS WAS THE LONG AWAITED GAME. THE BATTLE OF THE LITTLE GIANTS. THE FINAL DECIDER OF WHO IS THE ACTUAL TINY GIANT. IT WAS LITERALLY WATCHED BY THE OG LITTLE GIANT!!!

BUT THEN. THE MATCH ENDS FOR HINATA. HE"S PULLED. and you know what hoshiumi doesn't do. he doesn't go Oh I win. see that. even when kamome beats karasuno. becuase. he didn't get to win against HINATA

IT ISNT EVEN ABOUT BEING THE "LITTLE GIANT" ANYMORE!! HALFWAY THROUGH THE MATCH ITS NO LONGER ABOUT WHO IS THE LITTLE GIANT BETWEEN THE TWO OF THEM

Hoshiumi is SO important to hinata's growth. like. Hinata finds that he doesn't want to be the little giant anymore. he's ok with being the greatest decoy. his EVERYTHING had been revolving around the little giant since he started. it started with the little giant. he wanted to be the little giant. being called the greatest decoy irked him in the beginning.

AND YOU KNOW WHY. hinata had been talked down to the ENTIRE CLIMB of his career. OF COURSE he wouldn't be good at volleyball he's SHORT. IT'S BECAUSE HE'S SHORT HE'S NOT GOOD. ignoring EVERYTHING he put into the sport. his heart. his soul. just because he's short. BUT THEN

HOSHIUMI GETS IT!!!! HE REALLY DOES

and it should seem like. oh. of course its the battle of little giants its because theyre both short. BUT NO. ITS ABOUT THEIR DRIVE AND THEIR LOVE FOR THE SPORT. THEY UNDERSTAND THE SPORT SO DIFFERENTLY FROM OTHER PEOPLE. THEYRE GOOD AT THE SPORT THAT PPL THOUGHT THEY WOULDn"T BE . THATS WHY ITS SO IMPORTNAT THAT THEY FACE OFF.

like yaya i know the alders v jackals match was about a lot of people and had so many important things in it. it solidifies hinata's growth and dedication to being the greatest decoy, so he can truly and finally move past the desire of wanting the title little giant, and we get some solid hinata/hoshiumi comparisons n stuff. but haruichi furudate . i need a chat with you. you. you have the LAST TIME THEY SEE EACH OTHER. HOSHIUMI SHOUTS ACROSS THE COURT "I'LL BE WAITING FOR YOU" and the FIRST PANEL WE SEE OF HOSHIUMI POST TIMESKIP IS "I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU" AND THATS ALL WE GET???? THATS ALL WE GET????? THERES NOTHING ELSE????

WE DONT GET ANYTHING OF HOW THAT MUSTVE IMPACTED HINATA AND HIS DESIRE TO GROW??? HINATA COULD NEVER GIVE UP BECAUSE HOSHIUMI WAS WAITING FOR HIm. WAS EXPECTING GREAT THINGS FROM HIM. HOSHIUMI BELIEVED IN HIM AND WAS WILLING TO WAIT FOR FIVE YEARS AND PROBABLY EVEN LONGER. HE FOUND SOMEONE WHO COULD BE HIS PEER AND KNEW INTRINSICALLY THAT HE WOULD ALSO UNDERSTAND THE LOVE AND DEDICATION THEY PUT INTO THIS SPORT

anyways I'm just happy we have htis parallel. i'll eat the crumbs off the floor i dont care

become a hoshihina liker today

#haikyuu #hq #hoshihina #hinata shouyou #hoshiumi kourai #ive been shadowbanned on twitter and i made a thread on this that simply isnt getting to enough ppl for me to be satisfied #*swings a pocketwatch before your eyes* oooh oooooh you wanna become a hoshihina stan soo bad