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#DON'T YOU JUST WANNA TEAR HIM APART WITH YOUR TEETH
outdatedprometheus · 5 months
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COMMISSION I GOT DONE FROM @ottosbigtop !!!!! SOOOO FRICKIN OBSESSED WITH THE WAY IT LOOKS, BEST MONEY I'VE EVER SPENT, ABSOLUTE PLEASURE TO WORK WITH. 10/10 YELP REVIEW HIGHLY RECOMMEND FOR YOUR FUTURE COMMISSION NEEDS.
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sanguineterrain · 2 months
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most normal thing in the world | jason todd
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Summary: You get hit with a love spell. Naturally, the first person you seek out is Jason Todd.
Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 
Word count: 4.5k
Warnings/tags: love spell (so potentially mild dubious consent but all the feelings are reciprocated), lovesick you, lovesick jason, repressed jason, LOTS of cuddling/lovie stuff, needles, magic, pining, happy ending.
the divider
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Jason's having a good night.
He made himself an indulgent lasagna, and now he's got leftovers for tomorrow. He's off from patrol tonight, which, he must admit, was nice of Cass to offer.
Yeah, Jason actually feels pretty normal. Feels like any young person would. Hell, he might put on a movie he won't pay attention to, or finally adopt a cat, just to keep the normal streak going. That's what young folks do, right?
(He can think of some other things young people do, things that Jason won't allow himself to dream of.)
Knock knock.
Jason sighs. Well. The streak was good while it lasted.
He gets up, shuffling over in his sweats. He undoes the four locks and opens the door to reveal... you.
"Uh, hey," he says, cracking the door wider. "Everything okay?"
It's late. You shouldn't be out now, even if the sun hasn't gone down yet.
Jason frowns when you sway in the doorway and don't respond.
Then you flash him the sweetest smile he's ever been on the receiving end of. Wow. Sure, Jason's seen you flash your pretty teeth before. But not like this. And not at him.
"Hi, Jaylove. Hi."
"Uh." He watches you walk right past him, into his apartment. He shuts the door. "Hi... What's goin' on? You alright?"
You turn to face him. "Why wouldn't I be? After all, you're here."
"What?"
You walk to him and take his hands in yours. Jason's eyebrows rise.
"Hey...?" Jason says, looking at your joined hands. You lace your fingers together.
"My prince," you say happily. "Your eyes are beautiful. Like emeralds. And you have a beautiful mouth. Your whole face is beautiful. I'd like to paint you."
"Are you on drugs?" Jason releases your hands to hold your face. He gently pushes your eyelids up to inspect your pupils. You just smile.
"I feel high when you touch me," you say. "Just being near you is drug enough."
Yeah, Jason's now feeling a healthy amount of paranoia. It's not that you don't stop by or that you're not nice. No, you're the sweetest creature Jason's ever had the pleasure of meeting.
But wanting to touch him? Thinking he's beautiful? Calling him your prince? Either you're drugged or he's died again and found paradise.
Then again, he probably wouldn't still be in Gotham if this were paradise. You'd definitely be here, though.
"Right. Your eyes are fine." Jason lets go of your face. "You sure you didn't take anything? Drink anything? Run into anyone?"
"I drank tea," you say, gazing up at him. "And I petted a fat orange cat. Don't you want a cat?"
"I surely do. You drank tea?"
"Mmhm. It was almost as amazing as you."
Jason nods and lets go of you so he can take your hand. "Okay. We're going to the Cave."
"How come?" you ask, but you don't protest as he leads you out and into the elevator.
"Because I wanna make sure you're okay," he says, pushing the button labeled one. You're definitely not okay, but he doesn't want to worry you.
"Oh." You lean against Jason's arm. He stiffens and looks down at you. You just burrow into his side. "'Cause you love me?"
Breath catches in his throat. You can't mean that. Do you even know what you're saying? No, impossible.
You look up when he's silent for too long. "Jay-Jay? Didja hear me?"
"Yeah," he says slowly. "Yeah, I did."
You look at him, big eyes sweet. "Don't you love me too? I love you."
Jason swallows hard. "I, um, don't think you're in your right mind."
Your lip quivers. Oh, God. No, please don't cry, please don't—
"You don't love me?" you ask, tears welling.
"I do love you," Jason says quickly, panicking at your distress. "I do. Shit. Please don't cry, honey. I do love you."
You frown, cheeks wet. "You're just saying that! You hate me!"
Jason shakes his head. "No, no! Oh, never, I could never hate ya, honest! I was just... um, this is the first time we've said it to each other, y'know? I do love you. Have for a long time now."
He strokes your cheek with his thumb, soaking up your tears. You sniffle but accept this, nodding.
"Oh. I'm sure I've told you that I love you before. I love you so much, Jason. I'll never love anyone the way I love you."
God, this is fucking torture. As the elevator reaches the ground floor, Jason takes a deep breath, lets you link your fingers with his, and leads you out to the street. The universe is intent in never granting him a normal night. Noted.
There's no way you're in your right mind. Jason's figured this from the start. But that doesn't make the way you look at him, like he's anybody worth looking at, any less painful.
He pulls out his phone, shoots a quick text to Dick. ETA 10 min.
Dick responds two seconds later. What's up?
Possible Code 12.
Jason pockets his phone, running through potential reasons for what did this to you. Ivy's not wreaking havoc tonight, as far as he knows.
Meanwhile, you're in another world, humming and holding his hand. Jason's thought about this many times, holding your hand and taking you for rides, you adoring him, hugging him, kissing him. He's nothing if not a masochist.
"Okay, sweetheart," Jason says, and you immediately turn to him, like a flower showing its face to the sun. Jason is no one's sun, though. He's more like the worm under your boot.
"Hm?" you ask, stroking his arm. Jason does his best to be normal about it.
"We're gonna, um, go to the Cave. You okay on my bike?"
You glance at his bike, and there's a tinge of apprehension on your face. Jason reaches for your shoulder, stops, then forces himself to touch you. You're not going to recoil from him, not in this state. And he's not doing it for himself; he's only touching you so that you'll let him take you to the Manor and figure out what's what.
He's not a bastard for holding your shoulder, right? He's doing it just so that you'll be safe.
(It doesn't matter. Jason knows he's a bastard for being in your life at all.)
You lean into him when he touches your shoulder.
"Never been on your bike, Jay," you say.
"I know. But I swear to you that you're safe. You know I'd never let anything happen to you, right? Never."
You nod. "Yeah. You always look out for me. 'S part of why I love you so much."
Good God. Jason's going to be a ball of self-hatred for the next millenia over this.
He puts his spare helmet on you, helping you fit the chin guard underneath.
"Okay?" he asks.
You give him a thumbs-up. Jason smiles and puts his own helmet on.
"You gotta hold on real tight, okay? As tight as you can. Don't worry 'bout hurting me."
"Mmkay!"
He helps you mount the bike first, then follows. As soon as he's on, you wrap your arms around his middle and smush your helmet into his back.
How long has he dreamed about this? Taking you on late-night rides, feeling you pressed against him, squealing as he floats through traffic (he'd never speed the way he does when he's alone; Jason doesn't give a shit about his own body, but your safety matters).
"The bike is loud, so I'm not gonna hear you if you say something, but if you want me to stop, tap my shoulder three times, okay?"
"Okay, Jaylove." You squeeze him in what's clearly a hug. "Ready."
Jason's not sure he is. It's been a long time since anyone's touched him, much less someone he's head over heels for. You're so trusting, it makes him ache. Jason's just glad he's the first jerk you laid your eyes upon instead of the magic you're under pushing you into the arms of someone dangerous.
He starts up his bike. Jason's had guests on his bike before, mostly his brothers and, once, the old lady who runs the tea shop down the block.
He's never had a lovely thing like you snuggled up to him, clinging to him. Jason feels rabid. He feels like he needs to be shot and put out of his misery.
He follows all of the road rules so you won't be scared. You don't tap his shoulder or shake, so Jason figures you're fine. He's good. He's being good for you.
Jason slows as he goes down the ramp to the Cave entrance. He stops at the mouth of the Cave and dismounts first, pulling off his helmet.
"You alright in there?" he asks, offering his hand.
You wrap your arms around his neck and Jason wobbles as he recalibrates and snakes an arm around your shoulders instead and helps you off that way. He removes your helmet. You blink at the new light, then look at him, moony-eyed once again.
"I was kinda scared," you admit. "But I trust you, Jaybee. Always."
"Got you here in one piece, didn't I?" he says, winking at you.
"Uh-huh!"
Jason sees what you're going to do before you try. He sees the way you look at his lips, how you rear back, ready to leap and kiss him.
He redirects you immediately, preferring that to making you cry again. He hates it when you cry. Your soft mouth lands on his jaw instead.
Jason smiles, strained. You're annoyed at the fact that you missed, and Jason can see that you're about to try again when Dick and Tim come into view.
He's never been more thrilled to see his brothers.
"Fellow bretheren," Jason says. He knows his voice is thin. "Funny seein' you here."
You're briefly distracted and wave to be polite. But then you force Jason's left ear to your level and catch the lobe between your teeth.
Holy fuck. Jason nearly buckles at the sensation. He's never understood the ears as an erogenous zone before—now he gets it. He's ashamed of how heat pools in his gut as you nip his ear.
Jason balances you with an arm around your waist, gingerly trying to both hide his reaction and separate you. He accomplishes neither. Tim's eyebrows are at his hairline; Dick's mouth is open, no doubt ready to make a smart-ass comment.
"Well, it's nice to see you two so... affectionate," Dick says, holding back a grin.
Jason rolls his eyes. "I need you to run tests. They showed up to my door like this, all over me."
"Yeah, that is weird," Tim says.
"Thank you very much for that, Timbit," Jason grumbles. You kiss under his ear and weave your fingers through his hair. Jason manages to get your hands off, but your mouth is still firmly planted on his neck. He clears his throat. Normal!
"I dunno, Jason," Dick says. "It's not that weird. People fall in love every day."
And, okay. Jason can do teasing. He can even do borderline psychotic remarks. That's part of having siblings. He's made a few in his day. They've all stabbed or shot each other.
But now Dick is just being cruel.
Jason scowls. "Take their blood so we can fucking get this over with. They're clearly under a love spell."
His scathing tone surprises Dick, but it really startles you. You've moved away from his ear (Jason is both relieved and disappointed) and return to cradling his arm. You're alarmed by his reply.
"Jaylove?" you ask. "What happened? Are you mad?"
Jaylove? Jason sees Tim mouth. He forces himself to focus on you, be gentle for you.
"Hm, no, not mad at ya, sweetheart. Sorry 'bout that. But we need to run some medical tests on ya, 'kay? Can we do that?"
"Sure," you chirp, linking your arm with his.
Dick and Tim slip into Work Mode. Jason appreciates that. His nerves are frayed. He senses a self-destructive episode coming on after you're cured. Maybe he'll throw himself into a bar fight tonight.
"Symptoms?" Tim asks, going to the computer.
"Being in love with me," Jason says dryly.
"Besides that. Any physical symptoms like dizziness or nausea? Recklessness?"
"No, didn't notice any sickness. Not reckless; they did everything I said." Jason swallows, says the next part quietly, fearfully. "Probably jump into the Hudson if I asked."
Tim nods sharply. Dick prepares to draw your blood. Again, you're apprehensive. But Jason soothes you, pets you, and you're leaning into him like a cat in its favorite patch of sun as Dick takes your blood.
"I wanna get married," you say as red fills the second vial.
Dick shoots him a sympathetic look. Jason looks away.
"Soon, honey," Jason says, ignoring how his stomach's a pit.
He didn't think about love or relationships when he came back. Didn't care, not when he had revenge to plot.
But after all that was over, after he met you, after he found a reason to keep living, Jason started thinking about it.
And what he realized is that he's never getting married.
By choice? Yes, sure. Jason loves pretending he has a choice in anything. Sure, he chooses to abstain from marriage, like normal people out there do. But really, he avoids attachment it wouldn't be fair to anyone. He knows he's not made for that. His death made him unsalvageable. It's a miracle he's here at all. How dare he ask for more?
And inside, he chokes on a vine of hatred for everyone else who can find someone. Who's capable of loving and being loved. It even, to Jason's shame, has reared its head at you, whispered in his ear about how you're not damaged, so of course you'll find someone one day. Of course you'll leave him eventually. It would be stupid of him to hope otherwise.
"When?" you ask as Dick starts on the third vial. You don't even notice. Dick could probably drain you dry as long as Jason's in front of you. "When can we get married?"
"How 'bout next month?" Jason says without thinking. He would. He'd marry you tomorrow.
You think about this for a moment, then nod. "Yes, that would be good. I've always wanted a fall wedding."
"Yeah? I always liked the idea of marrying in the spring. All the flowers."
"No," you say. "Pollen's out. You'd be sneezing your head off."
Jason laughs, then wants to cry, because you know that he's allergic to pollen.
"Yeah, y'right," he says, voice thick. "Fall wedding's better."
"Alright, all done!" Dick says, forcefully cheerful. He removes the needle and puts a Bandaid on the inside of your elbow. You rest your head on Jason's arm. Jason tries not to boil himself in a fire of misery. You probably won't even remember this.
Dick watches you both, then tugs your hand. "Hey, you mind helping me fill out some info? For the tests."
Your mouth shrivels. You look at Jason, and he can't believe he's your North Star, magic or not.
"I don't wanna leave Jason," you say.
"He'll be right here," Dick says quickly. "Won't leave your sight for a second. But I need your help."
"Just for a minute?" you ask.
Dick nods. "One minute."
You sigh and turn to Jason. "I'll be right back."
Jason nods, tries to smile. "Sure. I'll be here."
He'll be here. Forever and ever and ever...
Wait a second. Tea. Jason jolts.
"Tim. They said they drank tea. Could be something there."
"On it," Tim says. "Dick, we need a mouth swab."
"Right." He turns to you. "Can I—"
"No," you say, and march back to Jason. "You said a minute."
Jason would laugh at the pout on your face, the way you plop yourself next to him and curl around him like he's a new toy. He would laugh. If he could find the humor.
Dick looks at him. Jason sighs.
"Honey?" You hum. "We just need one more test, yeah? Q-tip on your tongue. Not the most pleasant, but it'll be quick. Promise."
"Okay," you say immediately, hugging his arm.
Jason knows it's a spell, or maybe a lab-made chemical. But he's still awed by how quickly you acquiesce. How you show no worry when Dick approaches because Jason's right there, patting your hand.
Dick swabs your mouth. You cough three times after, most of your body on Jason.
"Interesting how they're not lustful," Dick says.
"What," Jason says.
"Okay, the ear thing was..." Dick shrugs. "But it's not mindless. It's actually the most reasonable love spell I've ever seen. Like, their desires for you don't feel manufactured, they feel—"
"Don't," Jason snaps. "Don't fuckin' say it."
Dick holds up his hands. "It was just an observation. You've seen Ivy's pollen doses. This one seems different."
"Fine. Ivy's taking a break from the orgies. Doesn't mean this is real."
Jason's not stupid enough to hope.
"It can't be Ivy," Tim says, and Jason almost startles. He forgot Tim was there, so wrapped up in you. "No reports of Ivy attacks. And the substance, whatever it was, wasn't inhaled. It was injested."
You wrap your arms around Jason's neck and smush your face against his. You're warm and smell good. Jason feels feral.
He holds you with a hand on your back, mind turning.
"Sweetheart," he says. You hum. "You said you drank tea after work. Where exactly did you go?"
"Dunno," you say, spacey. "Went into a tea shop that's never been there before. And an old lady invited me in. She said I looked so sad. And I was, Jaybee! How did she know?"
"Hm. Well, she gave me a tea sample, said it would make all my problems disappear. Then I petted her cat named Darcy. Like that book you like!"
"I don't know, honey," Jason says quietly, even though he has a suspicion. He's never letting you walk home alone again.
Tea shop. That's what he gets for trying to be a good Samaritan. How dare she drug you?
God, Jason just wants to hug you tight and kiss your face. It's awful of him to think of you as cute in your state, he knows.
"Track their routes," Jason says. "They take two different ones home. One crosses Bank Street, the other goes over the bridge."
"I'd call you a stalker but I really have no right," Tim says, fingers flying over the keyboard.
"No shit," Jason mumbles, letting you play with his fingers.
"Jason," Dick says quietly. He glances at you, then at his brother. "If it's too much, we can sedate them."
"No. We don't know how it'll react to the tea. It's not Ivy's brew."
Dick frowns. He knows Jason's right. Jason knows he's right.
"Okay, I got something. Magic signatures from a building on Tenth Street," Tim says. "And I think I'm onto an antidote."
"I'll check it out," Dick says, going to suit up. He looks at Jason. "Are you-?"
Jason nods. "I'm fine. Go."
So Dick does. Tim is able to make an antidote within the hour. He gives it to Jason who injects it into your neck. He feels guilty even though this is what’ll cure you. You wince at the pinch but you don't so much as whimper, endlessly trusting.
"They'll probably crash soon," Tim says, out of your earshot. "I don't know if you should risk the bike."
Jason sighs. Tim's right, and it makes him all the more agitated that his brothers have been helpful and even kind of nice during the whole thing.
You're going to crash soon. Jason has no choice but to bring you up to the Manor.
"Come on, sweetheart," he says, taking your hand and standing.
"Where're we goin'?" you ask, yawning.
"Goin’ t’bed, honey. Aren't ya tired?"
"Hmm. Mmhmm."
"Yeah, thought so."
Jason leads you up the stairs and out of the Cave. He helps keep you steady as you trip up the stairs. He's tempted to just carry you, but he feels like that might be overkill.
Once at the top of the stairs, Jason stops. Swallows.
He hasn't been up here in a while. He slept in his room once after he returned, after a nasty encounter with Scarecrow.
"Wanna sleep in your bed, Jay," you mumble, cheek against his arm.
Jason sighs. "Yeah. Okay, love."
You go to his room. It's clean, as usual—Alfred never let it get dusty. Jason had hoped that if you ever saw his room it would be in much different circumstances. Normal circumstances.
But, well. Here you are.
"Hmm, 's nice," you say as Jason pulls back the bedspread and helps you out of your shoes. You start to take off your pants and he panics.
"Uh! Uh, baby, maybe keep the pants on. You might get cold."
You frown in confusion. "Doesn't feel cold."
"Yeah, but, whew, Alfred blasts the AC! Jus' keep 'em on."
Jason cannot handle seeing you in your underwear. He draws the line there.
"'Kay," you say, and flop onto the sheets. You wiggle around, getting comfortable.
Jason sits in the fat armchair in the corner of the room. Immediately, you sit up.
"Why're you over there?" you ask, eyes wide.
Oh, boy.
"Oh. I was, um, gonna read for a bit. I'll come in in a while."
Your lip trembles. No—
"Don't leave me, Jaybee. Don't leave! Stay with me. I love you!"
Jason rubs his forehead. "Honey—"
"You hate me! You do! I annoy you." Tears gather in your eyes.
Jason hurries to the edge of his bed, climbing in in his jeans and socked feet.
"No, no, love, we covered this. I don't hate ya, hm? Where'd ya get a silly thing like that?"
You quiet as he scoots in beside you. Then you throw most of your limbs over him. Jason stiffens.
"Just got scared," you say, and kiss his chest. "Promise you won't leave?"
Jason breathes in. Breathes out.
"Yeah. I promise."
And he stays.
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You wake up with a faint headache and a dry throat. Sunlight peeks through the blinds. You feel warm and safe and well-rested, despite the slight pains.
You stretch, expecting air. Instead, you touch skin. You open your eyes.
Oh. You're in a bedroom.
No, scratch that. You see framed pictures of the Bats, books on shelves.
You're in Jason Todd's childhood bedroom. With the aforementioned tucked under your arm and leg.
You jerk away so hard, you land on the carpeted floor below.
Jason's up instantly, head poking over the bed. His eyes widen.
"Shit! Y'alright? C'mere."
He gets up and practically scoops you into a standing position. Your brain short-circuits: big strong man strong big good nice. Then you recover.
"Um," you say. "Uh. Hmm. Hi."
Jason smiles tightly. "Hey."
"What... how-?"
"Right. How much do you remember?"
You try to think. You remember walking home, drinking tea, an affectionate orange cat. You remember hands on your face and your stomach swooping on a motorcycle and a gentle voice. So gentle.
"You were magicked," Jason says quickly. "It was a, uh, tea shop. Dick's checking it out. You, um, came to me and I took you here and you got an antidote and you didn't want me to, um, leave. So, yeah. Sorry."
You tilt your head. "Why are you apologizing, Jason?"
He sighs. "Just 'cause."
You have no idea what that means. But you feel like Jason's telling you a very condensed version of what happened.
"What was the magic?" you ask.
He winces. "Love spell. You thought you were... in love with me."
Jason says it like he's the one who charmed you. Like he's ashamed of it.
"Oh," you say. Well, you certainly didn't need a spell for that to happen.
"Yeah." Jason's staring at your and his shoes by the door. "But everything's fine now. I can take you home. Dick and Tim'll take care of the tea shop witch."
He doesn't wait for a response, darting to the door and slipping into his shoes. You rush forward and close the door as Jason opens it. He looks at you in confusion.
"Jason," you say softly. "What happened?"
"Whaddya mean? I told you."
"Jason. I've known you for three years. You think I don't know when you're not telling me something?"
He looks at his feet. One of his socks has a hole in the toe.
"There's nothin' to tell," he mumbles. "Magic stuff. Happens all the time. Business as usual."
You frown. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Jay. I admittedly don't remember a lot."
Jason's expression is relief but there's a heaviness to his shoulders. "Well, 's for the best, really. Magic messes with your head."
"Did I make you uncomfortable, Jason? Not letting you leave and—God, I can't imagine how I was on the spell."
He shakes his head fervently. "No! No, no, my God, no. You didn't—you could never—I mean, I wasn't... fuck. No. You didn't make me uncomfortable."
"If you're sure," you say.
He nods. "Hundred percent."
Jason doesn't sound like he's lying. You're pretty good at detecting it, especially when it comes to his feelings.
So why is he acting weird?
Well, duh. A love spell. You probably freaked him out, especially since you really do love him.
"I hope we can still be friends," you offer.
Jason turns to the door.
"Yeah," he says quietly. "'Course we're still friends."
It shouldn't make you ache. Jason's perfectly in the right to not reciprocate how you feel. How can he reciprocate something he doesn’t even know exists?
"You, uh..." Jason scratches the back of his neck. He faces you once more. "You said last night that you were sad. When you were coming home. I just wanted to say, y'know... you can talk to me. 'Bout anything."
This will make all of your problems disappear, she had said. It'd tasted like kombucha—you hadn't had a lot of faith.
Jason begins to open the door. You slide in front of him and slam the door shut with your back. He steps back in surprise.
"Wh—"
"I have to tell you something!" you blurt.
Jason stills. "Okay."
"I adopted you a cat," you say.
He squints. "What?"
"Well, she's still at the shelter but I put her on reserve. Of a sort. I have a friend who works there. She's black and white and likes to cuddle and has two different colored eyes but she can't see very well. Her name is... whatever you want to name her. Because she's yours. And I think you'll love her."
He nods slowly. "I, uh, thanks. Thank you. I was thinking about adopting a—"
"I was sad last night because I kept thinking about how you're gonna love this cat I got you but you'll never love me, and how that's the fucking worst feeling in the world."
You've stunned him silent. Shit.
Seconds tick by. A minute. Two minutes.
"Okay," you say, wanting to jump out of Jason's two-story window. "I'm gonna go drop off the face of the Earth now. Bye."
You open the door. Jason closes it by caging you against it.
And then he kisses you.
Jason pours everything into the kiss. He's not a perfect kisser but it's good. It's magic. He holds your face completely, shuts out the entire world. Kisses the breath out of you.
Yes, you could go on. It's fantastic. It's fireworks. It's sunbeams.
And actually, it feels like the most normal thing in the world, kissing Jason Todd.
1K notes · View notes
starkeysprincess · 1 month
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Trying this again since link didn’t work🫶🏻
P! Link this was inspired by😌: https://twitter.com/lilayura_/status/1723131249324171400?s=46&t=fLXiXk2nW8WPhuZDNsKA1g
Bully!Rafe punishing reader like this after she smarts off to him at Top’s party in front of everyone. Just going absolutely feral having her at his complete mercy. Spanking her ass, taunting her with the most evil degrading shit, and torturing her until she’s brain dead mush under him🫠 and then sending a video to everyone at the party to show them how much she really hates him😌
•°. *࿐ HUMILIATE YOU LIKE YOU HUMILIATED ME
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you ate with this link, I’ve been drooling over it 🫠 ALSO im tipsy as fuck rn so I apologize in advanced if this is complete ass 😭
pairings: bully!rafe x reader
warnings: use of vibrator, mentions of bondage, mentions of overstimulation, degradation, mentions of video recording, 18+ mdni
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you were trying to have fun and enjoy Topper's party but were fed up with Rafe and his nasty comments. you've never been the type to talk back, always taking insults with a grain of salt but you were at your breaking point, especially when you've done nothing to deserve the way he's been treating you.
if you knew smart-mouthing him would lead you to where you are now, you would've kept your mouth shut.
"this is what happens when you wanna fuckin' disrespect and embarrass me in front of everyone" he gritted his teeth, earning a yelp from you when his hand roughly landed on your ass.
"p-please" you squirmed under him, your wrists and ankles burning from harshly tugging at the binds that held them together. "p-please" rafe mimics, increasing the setting on the magic wand that was held to your clit.
"sluts like you need to learn their fuckin' place" he snorted, pulling your panties to the side, pushing the vibrator further onto your clit.
your mascara stained your face from your tears, "Rafe, 'm sorry!".
"sorry isn't enough, you can keep acting all big and tough but everyone will know how much of a whore you are" he chuckles, enjoying every single whimper and moan that he pulls from you.
your cunt clenches around nothing from his words, the pressure against your sensitive, puffy clit becoming too much.
“your mouth says you hate me but your cunt say otherwise, you’re practically fuckin’ dripping” Rafe snorts, “gonna show everyone how wet you’re getting f’me without even touching you”.
“humiliate you just like how you humiliated me” he spat, his large, calloused hand pulling your ass cheeks apart, pressing the vibrator further against your pussy, "but i know a slut like you would enjoy that, huh? bet you enjoy being nothin’ but a hole to fuck”.
"r-rafe" you sob out, your tears blurring your vision, "that's right, lemme hear you begging f'me to stop" he grins, holding your hips down when they buck against the vibrator.
your eyes roll back, words slurring as you cum again for the fifth time and you're begging for him to stop, "i can't" you hiccup. "you can't or you won't? either way, it doesn't matter, 'm not stoppin' till you've learned you're fuckin' lesson" Rafe scoffed.
Rafe's hand comes down on your ass once again, "i don't give a shit if you're crying for me to stop, you're gonna keep takin' what i give you until you pass out for all i fuckin' care".
"if you know what's best for you, you'd keep your whore mouth shut and take it or so fuckin' help me, i'll shove my cock so far down your throat to shut you up, yeah?" he threatens.
Rafe smirked, knowing you had no choice but to take it, your pussy throbbing and you could barely form words, drool spilling out of your mouth and onto the sheets as your legs shook from being overstimulated.
your brain felt fuzzy, turning into mush as you cum once again, you failed to realize he was recording the entire time, "shit, look at how fuckin' pretty she is when she's nothing but a drooling, cock hungry whore f'me".
Rafe saved the video, airdropping it to everyone at the party before tossing his phone onto the mattress, fingers spreading your pussy open before pushing them into your tight, wet hole.
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tagging: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @nemesyaaa @rafesthroatbaby @annoyingassleo @fae-of-prey @bunnyrafe @sturnioloshacker @redhead1180 @shawtycoreee @drewstarkeys-world @starkeyisthelastname @heartsforvin @usergeta @rafeinterlude @rafecameroninterlude @kisses4angel @hallecarey1 @eddieslut69 @hyperfixationgirl @starkeysheart @blckbrrybasket @flvredcas
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azzo0 · 5 months
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Exam Season
Summary: Katsuki comforts you when you feel frustrated revising for exams. 
Pairing: Bakugo x gn!reader
Contains: a wee bit of crying with fluff
wc: 1.1k
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Katsuki furrowed his eyebrows at you, sitting in the common room as everyone went about their after-school studies, given the third-year final exams were fast approaching. He stared at you, noticing the dark circles under your eyes as you bit the inside of your cheek, nose buried deep in a textbook. 
You'd been a little distant lately, and it pissed Katsuki off. You arrived early to class to get some studying done before Katsuki could greet you over breakfast and left the classroom first so you could get to the dorms and revise. Whenever the bakusquad invited you to hang out, you shot them down with the excuse, 'I have a lot of revision to do.' 
He could see the signs of exhaustion creeping all over you. You were yawning and rubbing your eyes again. His eyebrow twitched in annoyance when he saw you reach for the freshly made cup of coffee, your eyes glued to the textbook, unaware everyone had begun packing up their books to hit the bed. He waited for everyone to leave, pretending to flip a page or two when his attention was really on you. 
The common room was soon deserted, with only you and Bakugo being the ones behind. He stood up and walked over to you, "Oi."
You looked up from the textbook to see your boyfriend looking down at you sternly, his arms crossed and legs apart in a dad stance, "It's time for bed."
"I'll go after I finish this section," You replied, "It's a little tricky and-"
"You've been studying the whole fuckin' day with no breaks, Y/n." Bakugo reasoned, "You'll get tired. C'mon, let's go."
"'Suki, please," you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, "I don't have it in me to argue with you right now, so please let me be."
Bakugo opened his mouth to shoot a reply, closing it instead when he saw the gloomy look on your face as you stared at the textbook again. He heard your stomach rumble and gave you one last glance before leaving. 
Truth be told, you felt bad for ignoring him for the past couple of days, but you had not realised it while studying for the exams. You scrubbed your face and let out a long exhale, bringing your knees to your chest. Your stomach rumbled again, reminding you it needed to be fed. Ignoring your pleading tummy, you rummaged through your bag and pulled out a notebook and a pen to complete an exercise, forcing yourself to stay awake. The coffee seemed to be doing the opposite of keeping you open-eyed. 
You gritted your teeth in irritation when you got a question wrong. You had watched online lectures for this very topic over and over again, and yet you still managed to mess it up. Frustrated, you tossed the pencil to the other side of the room, glaring down at the paper with your eyes blurring and stinging.
Katsuki happened to walk into the room just then, a plate with a sandwich in hand. He saw you staring at your notebook with glossy eyes. He was beside you in an instant, setting the plate on the coffee table and putting his hands on your shoulders, "Hey, hey, what's wrong?"
You shook your head and wiped your eyes. Katsuki took your wrists, putting them down. He cradled your face ever so gently, making you look at him. He wiped away the tears with his thumb and kissed your closed eyelids. He brought your head to his chest and slowly moved his hand up and down your back while pressing sweet kisses into your hair. 
"You wanna talk about it?" He asked after a few minutes of silence, patiently waiting for your response. 
"I just-" you muffled into his shirt, "I feel tired of not being able to achieve the grades I work so hard for. It's frustrating getting all these papers back to see all that work was for nothing. I want to do better on these exams, Katsuki. I'm trying my best, but I'm so scared I'll mess up."
You pulled away from his shirt, rubbing your eyes, "And this stupid chapter is so annoying I can't understand it no matter how many videos I watch on YouTube."
"That's it?" Bakugo said once you were done, "That's what you're worried about?"
"Easy for you to say when you're on top of the class," You glared through wet lashes, "some of us have to work thrice as hard and still can't make it to the top."
"I didn't mean it that way, Y/n," He said with apologetic eyes, taking your hands. He kissed the inside of your wrist, moving up your arm and onto your cheek, getting you to giggle when his eyelashes tickled your skin. He pulled back with a grin, cupping your cheek. 
"Don't compare yourself to me or others. Got that? You're you, and that's okay. Besides, It's not like the world will end if you don't get an A." He tilted your chin towards him when you looked down sullenly, "Or will it?"
"It won't." You mumbled. 
"Damn right. It's just a stupid piece of paper. It isn't going to define you or your life." He finished with a kiss on your forehead, "You got that?"
"Mhm."
"Can't hear ya, sweets." 
"Yes, sir."
Katsuki pinched your cheeks and squished them together, planting a kiss on your lips. Satisfied with your goofy smile, he gave you the sandwich, "Eat up."
Your heart stirred when you took the sandwich from him. Why was he so sweet? 
Katsuki pulled your textbook to himself to see which unit you were working on, eyes skimming over your notes thoughtfully, "You could have come to me if you needed help with this, you know?"
"You're busy preparing too, 'Suki." 
"I know, but I could've still helped you out with it." He said, closing the textbook, "No more studying for now. After you finish that sandwich, I'm taking your ass straight to bed. If you rest well, yer going to be able to grasp the concepts better."
"Okay," you smiled, munching on the sandwich.
"There's still three weeks till the exams, so we're goin' out tomorrow to freshen up that cute little head of yours," he said, poking a finger on your forhead, "No thinkin' about school or exams or books. Just a day out with you and me. After that, I'm helping you study, alright?"
"Sounds nice," you hummed.
He huffed and silently watched you eat. Seeing you smile again with bright eyes as you rocked back and forth while eating made him feel content. As soon you were done eating, he grabbed you by the wrist and hoisted you up, throwing you over his shoulder without a warning. 
"Katsuki!" You squealed. 
"Hup, hup, time for bed."
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A/N: It's exam season, and I haven't been feeling my best. This is for everyone studying for exams and tests. Don't forget to take breaks and get plenty of sleep. Good luck :)
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cold-kitty · 6 months
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Remember the Yandere Neuvillette fic? Well you know that one meme that goes like "I have two sides"? That's how I am with Neuvillette. On one hand, I like to think of him as the sweet goober that was in that fic. On the other hand? Well...
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Contains: NSFW (not with darling), murder (not darling), Neuvillette is quite literally insane, Neuvillette is slightly rough with darling (not sexually), abuse of power, mentions of kidnapping, stealing darlings things, Neuvillette has masochistic tendencies
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Yan!Neuvillette who hires you as an assistant. you tidy up a bit, bring him things he needs, just normal things.
Yan!Neuvillette who stares at you, stares. he only works half of the day, the rest of that time is spent staring at you.
Yan!Neuvillette who will invite you to lunch everyday, insisting that he pays even though you want to. oh don't worry, it's not like it's a date. even though it should be...
Yan!Neuvillette who will steal your used napkins, spoons/forks/chopsticks, leftovers, anything that you've touched or put your mouth on.
Yan!Neuvillette who takes those things home with him, swiping the saliva off of them and is immediately tugging down his pants.
Yan!Neuvillette who is definitely physical with you. hugs, patting your head, hooking your arm in his, standing a little too close to you, etc.. but he's very insistent with it, and he doesn't care if you turn down the offer, it only makes him squeeze you harder than usual (which is abnormally hard for someone who's supposed to be platonic with you).
Yan!Neuvillette definitely swipes some of your clothes, gaslighting you that you didn't wear it. gloves? no silly, you didn't wear any.
Yan!Neuvillette who also finds the cologne you use, spraying it on all over his room, especially his pillow.
Yan!Neuvillette is a pillow fucker 100%, his pillow is constantly nestled between his plush thighs as his hips move feverishly against it.
Yan!Neuvillette who talks to his pillow, pretending it's you. begging it, whining with it, holding it as if it were a person. p-please love- ngh... please please please i wanna cum, please- darling please l-let me- hah- cum...
Yan!Neuvillette who has fantasies of you randomly bending him over his desk, ripping his clothes apart and absolutely ravaging him.
Yan!Neuvillette who has a certain ache for pain with you. slap him, kick him, hit him, bite him, strangle him, he'd even let you cut him for Christ's sake. make him bleed and cry, bruise him and make him sore. anything that you do is ecstasy for him, and he would love you to have power over him like that.
Yan!Neuvillette who goes batshit feral when you're affectionate with someone. teeth gritted, body twitching, eyes wide with rage, but he would never ever do anything to hurt you, so he simply slits the persons throat.
Yan!Neuvillette who will quite literally tweak the law just so he can have an advantage, making loopholes so he can legally kidnap you. the government doesn't even need to know, he'll just change it whenever he wants.
Yan!Neuvillette who will stop at absolutely nothing to have you, he'll kidnap you, blackmail you, threaten people you love, anything.
Yan!Neuvillette who - if pushed to this point - will accuse you of a crime and label you guilty, sentencing you to 'behavior correction' with him for the next year.
Yan!Neuvillette who really, really doesn't like the look on your face when he takes you to his home, as much as he likes having power over you, it makes him feel sick. you're crying, begging him to understand that you haven't done anything wrong, that you were framed.
Yan!Neuvillette who won't hurt you unless you try to run away, and even then it's only a few smacks on the back with a wooden paddle. he hates your tears.
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There are only two Yandere Neuvillette's (in my opinion), the sweet baby from the first fic, and whatever rabies infested rat this is.
~🐈‍⬛
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miguelhugger2099 · 6 months
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Eye for an Eye
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Summary: Miguel rescues you in an ugly way. A/N: my guilty pleasure is sometimes i wanna be saveddd Warnings: Brief suggestion to sexual harrassment/assault, a bit of violence.
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Somehow in the year 2099, most people didn't understand that Spider-Man in this age didn't follow the famous "no killing" rule that the original Spider-Man upheld in the Heroic Age. Most people meaning criminals.
Spider-Man, even when saving people from falling from skyscrapers or punching Public Eye scum in the face, if pushed to his limits- he would kill. This was his rules, his timeline, his Nueva York and if some pesky criminal wouldn't understand that then he'd get rid of them by any means.
So where do you come in all this?
Despite your efforts at secrecy, in the dead of night Spider-Man would often escort you home after work or if you had gotten into trouble with some purse snatcher. Other times, he'd sneak in your apartment window after a long fight, wanting to see you and have you patch up the wounds that would take a little more time to heal.
Spider-Man had revealed to you that he was actually Miguel O'Hara, the handsome stranger that had seemingly bumped into you more and more often after your very first encounter with Spider-Man. Having already been in an established relationship, you felt your heart drop at this major secret.
A part of you was angry at him for not telling you. For revealing your feelings about Miguel to his alter ego Spider-Man and making a fool of yourself. For all the nights he cancelled seeing you without explanation-something that put a strain on your relationship for a while. 
However the other half of you was drowned in worry. So all those times his masked covered face had come in to see you, bloody and bruised while you fixed him up, it was all him. He could die, you told him. Why would he do this to himself?
"I haven't been good all my life," He groaned while you pressed a damp cloth to his wound one night. "I think of all this as repentance for being a shocking moron in my earlier years."
"There are other ways to repent. Like donating to charity or some confession booth at a church. Not some...Not risking your life." You could barely look at him, tears brimming your eyes and threatening to fall while it clouded your vision. 
"I'm not religious." Miguel replies. "It wouldn't mean anything with these in my body now. They'd probably still send me to Hell regardless." He lifts his hand, his talons auto extracting from his fingertips and he feels the bile from his stomach stir, an urge to vomit at the disgust of himself.
He forces his talons back into his fingertips so he could tilt your chin up to face him. His thumb caressed your cheek to wipe off a stray tear that had fallen. "I'm sorry I put this all on you." He whispers.
You shake your head. "You're stupid, I always knew that," You sniffle and Miguel bites his cheek so he doesn't smile. "But I could help you better now. I...I know who you are and everything makes sense now, we could-"
Miguel stops you by shushing you. "No, no, no. You're not helping me anymore." Your heart drops again.
"What do you mean?"
"This is the last time we'll see each other."
Your jaw drops this time. Eyes that widened in shock now turn to anger. "Shock, Miguel. I knew you were an asshole but breaking up with me after revealing your secret identity to me has got to be one of the lowest things you're doing."
You lean away from him, bloodied and dried cloth thrown at his chest. "I was useful when you could just pop in whenever? No strings attached–was it fun?" You scoff in hurt.
Miguel grits his teeth. "No, carajo, it's-it's me-"
"Don't bullshit me Miguel with that it's not you, it's me rhetoric." You cross your arms tightly to your chest.
"It's dangerous!" He barks back.
"Like it wasn't dangerous before?" 
"It was! That's why I can't come back! I can't let myself lead them to you!" Miguel sits up and grabs onto your shoulders tightly and gives you a firm shake. His hands shake as he holds you, his head hanging. "This...this power of mine. I...it can lead so many of those assholes to you." He whispers. "I trusted you enough to come here, which I hate myself for. I should’ve never involved you in any of this.” Miguel’s hands fall from your shoulders and down your arms to grip your hands in his. “I’ve already put you in so much danger. If you got hurt, I don’t know what I’d do.”
The feeling of his talons pricking your skin and the sight of his fangs leaking a drop of his venom made you think maybe he did know what he’d do. He would just really want to avoid it.
“Miggy,” You say softly. “How about you let me make that choice? Now that I know, it doesn’t scare me. Do you know why?” You take your right hand out his grip to cup his cheek. His tired eyes look up to yours, nostril dried with blood and a scar on his forehead that surely needed bandages.
“Because I know you’ll protect me. You’re Spider-Man.” You lean in closer, Miguel under your spell. “Let me help you. That’s my decision. In return, if I’m ever a damsel in distress, I hope you’ll help me.” You give him a small smile and his hand covers yours on his cheek. He squeezes your fingers. “I promise.” He swears. Miguel always kept his promises even if he stumbled on the way. So when he went to visit you after his nightly patrol, he didn’t expect to see your entire apartment in disarray. His mask phases off his head, scarlet eyes wide and panicked. He gulps down his fear, muscles tense as he steps into your room. Blankets and pillows on the floor, some slashed and stuffing being poured out the seams. Your desk that held photos of you and your friends had also fallen to the floor, glass shattered and frames broken. Miguel takes another quiet step outside of your room. Your entire living room was a mess. Your couch had been moved and cut in half, lamps cracked and more photos on the floor. His heart stops when he sees blood in the kitchen. Some of the knives had been taken and another wave of fear splashes down his spine. It was clear there had been some sort of resistance with whoever took you. Whoever took you. Who took you? Miguel feels the fear morph into rage, his mask phasing back on his head. “Lyla. Scan this place.” He growls. His AI assistant glitches into existence, her eyes behind her pink heart shaped glasses full of worry. She begins phasing in and out of different places while Miguel lets the anger fester in his body. HIs talons on his fingers and feet itch to come out, to be sharpened for whatever poor soul’s flesh he’ll rip into. His fangs seep out his paralyzing venom, his tongue licking off the excess. Lyla appears in front of him, more meek and smaller compared to her usual upbeat and sarcastic nature. She knew there was a time and a place. “The blood isn’t hers. They most likely knocked her out since there’s no trace of her own blood around. Fingerprints on the knife handle are hers. No other DNA samples could be acquired.”
Miguel walks towards the entrance of your apartment. His hand grazes the door frame that had been split apart. Lyla appears next to him. “Forced entry, probably by foot. There’s some traces of wet soil–mainly seawater. I’ve tracked several fishing ports–most in Staten Island.” She displays holograms of different spots, standing tall by his side while he skims through. “Did you find a match on the blood?” His voice rumbles. “Negative, Miguel. None in the criminal database, including The Raft. Looks like this is the work of someone new.” Miguel grows furious. He roars as he punches his hand through the already destroyed couch. Some novice wants his attention so badly, he’s willing to piss him off for it. Miguel swings out of your place and searches the entirety of Staten Island’s fishing ports until he finds the one he was looking for. You don’t know where you are but you can feel everything. A sash was wrapped tightly around your eyes, some rope or zip ties held your wrists together and your ankles to the chair you sat on. You felt the pounding of a headache when you woke up. The last thing you remembered was one of the intruders lifting his gun and slamming the barrel down on your temple. They grew tired of you after reaching into the kitchen to protect yourself. You held them off well but you were still just one person. The sash had been lifted from your eyes and you groaned when a bright light of a lamp shined in your face. While you squinted, you could make out at least three people in front of you.
“I’m sorry about my men. They’re still a little new. You know how it is when you get trainees for a new job.” The one in the middle speaks, you noticed he also is the one that took off your sash. “What the hell was the point of all this? You just kidnap random people from their homes?” You glare up at the man and his two puppets. “Streets say you’re good friends with Spidey.” One of the smirks. “Had one of these guys watch him crawl in your window like some squashed bug.” You scoff softly, rolling your side to the side. “So what?”
The man in front shrugs. “Either you’re his whore or you know him. So which is it sweetheart?” He rests his hand on the back seat of your chair and leans in close to your face. “Who is Spider-Man?”
You licks your lips and stare back up at him, choking back the stretch his breath was. “I don’t know.”
He grins. “Hm. So you’re his whore. A special one at that. He doesn’t appear in just anyone’s home so what services do you offer him in exchange for some protection? Do they apply here? Baby, I can protect you too.”
He’s sick, your mind screamed. You struggled against your restraints.
“Shock you.” You spit on his shirt and he lands a hard slap across your cheek.
He mumbles a string of curses before grabbing your chin and forcing you to face him again. “Don’t forget who’s in the shocking chair, sweetheart. Your hero ain’t here so be a doll and shut the hell up.”
Your chest heaved up and down in deep breaths to calm your scared heart. You feel your cheek stinging and it didn’t help with this rotten man’s fingers digging into your skin.
Your silence pleases him and his other hand reaches down to your knee. “I don’t wanna hurt you, sweet thing. It’s just one simple question and I’ll let you go.” He lies. His hand rides up your thigh and your leg tries to kick him away from you but he just grips you tighter. “I don’t know.” You plead hoarsely. “I know, I know. So you say.” Out of the corner of your eye you see one of his men snatched into the darkness with a clawed hand around his mouth. Miguel. The guy in front of you digs his nails deeper in your skin and you can feel the scratch. “Eyes up here, sweetheart.” You whine at the pain, pursing your lips to keep yourself quiet. “See, Spidey’s head goes for millions of dollars–money you can’t even comprehend so if you could do your community a favor of just letting us in on some intel on the son of a bitch; that’d be great.” “You wanna kill him?” You ask breathlessly, looking to the other side to see another newbie being hindered, his neck tilted to the side while some teeth bite into his flesh. His body slowly lost consciousness and was also dragged into the darkness silently. “Most of Nueva York wants that guy dead. All the ones on top but I’m dirt poor, sweetie. It’d be a disservice for the hero to not let me kill him. Shouldn't he give to the poor and needy?” He sighs, letting go of your cheek so both his hands rests on your upper thighs. You feel your skin crawling and try to move away as far as you can in your seat. “But you don’t know anything do you? Then I’d be doing a disservice by throwing out some useful goods here, don't you think?” His grimy hands grip your hips, looping his fingers around your jean belt loops. Before you could even think, the man is instantly ripped off of you by his shirt. He’s thrown back on his side, skidding as he comes to a halt. Spider-Man towers in front of you, his back facing you. You could still see the rage oozing from his suit, shoulders and muscles tense and claws out. His chest rises and falls with each jagged breath, the only sound coming out of him.
“Spider-Man!” The man growls, stumbling to get back on his feet. His pistol had slipped from the back of his jeans, sliding away from him. “Dammit–Darrell! Fernando!” He calls to his two men but he freezes. On the floor are both his associates, one’s clothes ripped apart with claw marks on his chest, the other with his jaw slacked open and two puncture holes in his neck–a strange mixture of blood and another liquid oozing from the wound. He lets out a strangled scream as he looks back up at Spider-Man. His tall frame stalks over to him but the man crawls to find his gun. Before he could grab it, Miguel stomps on the man's arm, giving a satisfying crack to his bone which the man cries out painfully. While he writhes on the concrete ground, Miguel grabs onto his broken arm and lifts him up–he screams, trying to push Miguel away. “You wanted to kill me?” Miguel growls, his voice deep and menacing. The man pleads for his life and another set of footsteps come from behind. “Shoot him!” The man yells as Miguel looks back over his shoulder. The rest of the group comes up from behind Miguel, raising–what Miguel considers pathetic–guns up to his face. The eyes on Miguel’s mask squint slightly and just as quickly, he turns with the man in his hands and uses his body to protect himself from the onslaught of bullets. The man’s entire group fires and every single bullet pierces into his body, splattering blood on the ground and Miguel’s suit. Miguel makes sure that you weren’t hit at any moment. Miguel tosses the limp corpse to the side and pounces into the group, attaching his fangs into some man’s neck while his talons ripped along his arm to let go of the rifle he was holding. Chaos ensues and they all begin shooting at one another in hopes that one shot could land on Spider-Man. Miguel’s claws ripped apart limbs and skin, every single hand that raised against you was littered to the ground. He continues to swing and jump around, letting everyone get lost in the confusion before tearing through chests and stomachs. His rage knew no bounds at the moment. He had planned to just come in secretly while he still had a part of his mind. Get in, use his venom, take you and get out. But when he saw what that scum would’ve done to you, touching you, gripping onto you–he lost his mind. Even with Lyla’s brief protest, Miguel couldn’t help but want to tear him apart. So he did.
It wasn’t often Miguel had to be reduced to such measures but everyone had their limits. By the time it was over, he barely noticed how silent it had become. His ears were still ringing, he felt like he was underwater as he gulped in heaps of air. “Miguel!” He hears Lyla yell at him. He snaps his head to where he heard her voice, blind rage melting when he sees you still in the chair. He sees Lyla with her arms crossed, her little foot tapping angrily in mid-air. Lyla had done her best to cover your sight and hearing of the crime Miguel had done with holograms of whatever–surely it was much nicer than watching Miguel gnaw off a piece of someone’s throat. Miguel glances at his hands stained and dripping with blood. He wipes them on his legs, hoping to get it off him before you could see. He falls to his knees in front of you with a soft whine of your name and his mask phases off. “Lyla, blur the room.” Lyla does as told and lets you see him. Your eyes are concerned and scared. “Miggy…” You whisper, feeling the trauma set in. “I’m here, I’m here–I told you I’d protect you, yeah?” Miguel uses his talons to cut off the zip ties from your wrists and ankles that were digging in your skin. Once you were free, you wrapped your arms around his neck and jumped into his arms. Miguel fell back but made sure to hug you back, his arms going around your waist while his other arm went up to cradle your head. He buried himself in your shoulder, breathing in the mixture of your natural scent and the scent of the man. He growled and held you tighter. He’d do something about that smell.
“I was so scared–I didn’t know what to do–How did you find me?” You babbled as you finally felt safe enough to sob and cry. “Don’t worry about that. You’re safe. You’re okay.” Miguel reassures you, kissing your temple and cheek, pulling away gently to brush your messy hair away from your face. He wipes your tears with the back of his hand, unintentionally leaving a bloody mark. “Shit..” He mumbles, ashamed and pulls his hand away. You stop him, holding his hand back to your cheek. You just wanted to feel him, his warmth. You weren’t stupid. You knew what happened when Lyla put up holograms that blurred what you weren’t supposed to see. You didn’t care. May they rot. “Thank you.” You whimpered. “Thank you.” Miguel presses a kiss to your forehead. “Always. I’ll take you home.” “But, my apartment–” You try to speak as Miguel moves to hold your body in one hand while he swings on his web with the other. “Not your apartment. Mine. My penthouse. I’m never leaving you out of my sight again.” Your arms were securely around his neck. He was still tense but much less before. You tried to look back down but he squeezed you tighter– he didn’t want you to see.
For tonight, he’d take care of you just like all those nights you took care of him.
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ryxmix · 6 months
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SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY
pairings ; boothill x fem! reader
warnings ; smut smut smuuuuut, size kink if you squint real hard, robo dick, ooc boothill (made before release), censored cussing from his side, you call him "sir", use of pet names (sugar, girlie, pretty thing), he has normal human cum for some reason okay don't question me it's smut, you wear his hat (mentioned like...once), he's a huge tease, clit smacking, breeding kink, dumbification, degradation and praise???, he calls you a pillow princess, and more stuff...
a/n: i know he just got drip marketing but i need MORE- also i was thinking of sloppy seconds (ick pt2) by lay bankz while writing this so do with that what you will.
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"c'mon sugar, you can do better, can't ya?" the cowboy mumbles mockingly, circling patterns into your inner thigh as you ride him tirelessly, tears staining your puffy cheeks as you try your hardest to cum.
"aw, is my pretty thing such a pillow princess that she can't do nothin unless her big strong cowboy does it for her?" he coos, smacking your clit before gripping onto your hips, still not moving, "didn't you want this? i never told you to, but you thought you could do it, dumb little girl." you sob, grinding down on him, "sir— wanna cum s'bad sir— nghaa!— it hurts, fuck—" he smiles up at your teary face, back resting against the headboard of the bed as he looks at you, teeth bared.
"oh girlie, you want me that bad? you want me to fill that pussy up so good until you can't think no more?" he coos, thrusting up into you, and for the first time tonight, you feel good, his cock touching that spot in your cunny.
"boothill—" he slaps your clit as a warning, and you whine, "sir! sir, it feels good! please, please make me feel good sir, please! fill me up, make me cum, anything!"
he grins at you, sharp teeth glinting under the dim light of the bedroom as he grabs you by the waist and pushes you down on the bed, metal-plated hands cold against your body. you squeak out, gripping onto the sides of the sheets as he flips you over.
"since ya asked so nicely, it would be too mean to say no to ya, girlie," he groans out, using his thumbs to spread your leaky cunt apart, humming at the way it glistens before he thrusts his cock back into you, eliciting a scream from your lips.
"sir! yes, sir— fu- hahnghh! it feels so good, sir, hah~ s-so good—" he doesn't respond, letting out a low growl as he thrusts into you harder and faster, feeling you tighten around him deliciously. You whimper and whine, feeling so full with his cock.
"such a good girl, my good little cutie," he clicks his tongue in annoyance when he can't call you what he wants to; when he can't call you his little slut. but you seem to get the memo, hole tightening around him before you squirt, cum gushing all over him as you fall limp, but he's not stopping, still thrusting into your sensitive hole.
"sir— sir, wait, 'm still sensitive, sir— nghyaa!??" he presses you down on the bed fully, cock thrusting deep until it kisses your cervix, and you let out a broken whimper. He lets out a delightful chuckle, a hand going around your neck until he brings you into a choke hold in his arm, squishing your cheeks until you can only let out babbles from the struggle to breathe. but it still feels so good, better even.
"sir— sir, 'm gonna cum again— sir— mphyaaa!" you gush around his cock once more and he finally spills into your hole, cum thick and creamy. he lets you out of the criminally sexy chokehold before putting his hat on you with a chuckle, admiring your fucked out face.
"that's my pretty girl, heh."
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woongiez · 1 month
Note
Hiii it's my first time asking you for smt, just so yk I LOVE GUNWOOK SM BRO LIKE I JUST WANNA KEEP THAT 6 FT MAN IN MY POCKET AND PROTECT HIM. yk his little head tilt thing that he does? OKAY CALL ME A WHORE FOR THINKING OF THIS BUT DUDE HEAR ME OUT. His head tilting and he's smiling while he's overstimulating you or something with toys... LIKE IDK MAYBE I'M JUST INTO LIKE THE SWITCH UP LIKE HE'S SO SWEET AND THEN BOOM😭
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i never thought i'd ever start writing on tumblr until i received my first ask??/!/!&:@:@ thank u anon for bringing my writing era back 🥹 and i haven't written for a longggg time so please excuse it if it's horrible 😭
BUT OMG you're so so real i know exactly what you're talking about !!!
it's just another normal makeout session on the couch with gunwook like you have everyday but suddenly he pulls apart and looks at you with the cutest shiny puppy eyes.
"hey doll i wanna try something" he says as his cheeks turn a cherry shade of red.
he waits for your nod of approval and as soon as he gets it he picks you up swiftly, carrying you back to the room and placing you down on the bed like the princess you are. he instructs you to undress yourself and he goes into the closet to find something, but comes back with a vibrator. your eyes widen, not knowing what on earth he's going to do to you with it. he crawls towards you on the bed, placing the vibrator beside you.
"i saw these the other day and i thought of using them on you so i bought it" he flashed the most innocent little gummy smile, before smashing his lips onto yours, his teeth pulling on your lower lips as his hands roam all over your body — caressing every inch closely as if he wanted to remember the feeling of your soft skin on his fingertips for the rest of his life.
his hand dipped down to your soaking slit. "so wet already angel? we haven't even gotten started" you could feel him smirking through the kiss; his teasing just made your walls clench around nothing.
"mmh.. wook please just touch me already" your hands squeezed onto his biceps and your nails dug into the skin forming red crescent moons.
"patience baby ... don't bite off more than you can chew" he smirked as he grabbed the vibrator from beside your head, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to switch it on. the glint in his eyes and the buzz of the vibrator as it turned on told you that you were in for a long night.
you watched as he brought his fingers to your soaking wet pussy, running his middle finger up and down, as he maintained eye contact with you. your body shuddered at his touch and he smirked as he brought the vibrator to your clit. the vibrations sent waves throughout your body, the pleasure taking over your body. gunwook just watched your body writhe under him as he pressed the vibrator to your clit, setting it on the highest setting. the ecstasy took over you, your eyes rolling back and your nails digging deeper into his shoulders as you tried your very best to grip onto them. his head tilted a little to the side as he smirked down at you, watching your face contort in pleasure.
“fuck.. fu– wook im gonna c-cum” you managed to get out between gasps as your stomach twisted into a knot.
“come for me angel” he whispered as he pressed the vibrator onto your clit, his other hand reaching for your nipples, tugging and twisting at them.
you bucked your hips as you squirted all over him as you screamed his name, his soaked tank top now clinging onto the outline of his abs. your chest heaved up and down and you tried to catch your breath but the pleasure just started build up again as gunwook rubbed the vibrator on your clit.
“fuck baby that was so hot.. will you do it again?” he mumbled as he leaned and buried his face in your neck, leaving kisses all over.
“mmhh..fuck wook! t-too much!” your legs trembled and your voice started to get all pitchy as he overstimulated you. tears welled in your eyes and your thighs began to clench themselves together but he immediately brought his hand to them, spreading them wide open with all his strength, and watching in awe as your throbbing clit vibrated to the rhythm of the vibrator.
“not until you give me another one angel” he tilted his head as he looked at you, his hand cupping your tear-stained cheeks. safe to say it was a very long night indeed...
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loserboysandlithium · 8 months
Text
Tease: Eddie Munson Blurb
⚠️explicit sexual content. minors DNI⚠️
Word count: 630
******
"Eddie... Eddie please..." you whisper softly, your heart pounding rapidly in your chest.
"Mmm.. no can do, sweetheart. Only good girls get to cum."
"I'll be good. I promise.. please let me cum.." you whine, your clit swollen from his nonstop torture.
You don't know how long has passed but it feels like hours. Hours of incessant teasing. Teeth imprints and red marks litter your skin like some twisted form of art. Your entire body feels like it's going to explode from the constant edging.
You pull against the restraints hearing the metal handcuffs clink against the bedpost.
"Baby."
"Shh.." he hums as his thumb meets your throbbing clit once more making your legs clamp shut around his wrist.
Eddie chuckles darkly as his strong hands land on your knees, forcing them apart.
"Fuck!" you squeal as he plants his face in between your legs, lapping furiously at your soaked pussy.
"I- Eddie! It's too much!" you cry out but he doesn't stop. His hands keep your legs spread, pressing your knees firmly into the mattress as you struggle to keep your eyes open.
His tongue flicks and swirls wildly, never in one place long enough to get you there. Just enough to keep you aching for more. Desperate moans flee your lips with every movement from his wicked tongue.
He leans up, spitting on your pussy, giving it a rough smack making your body jolt, back arching off the bed.
“Shit!”
"That pussy tastes so good, baby. You're fucking soaked..." he murmurs, slipping two fingers inside, the chill of his rings sending shivers throughout your entire body.
"P-please..." you whimper, tears prick your eyes from the frustration.
Eddie's brown eyes lock onto yours as a small smirk appears on his pretty lips.
"You wanna cum, sweetheart?" he taunts.
You nod adamantly as a tear rolls down your cheek.
His fingers curl perfectly, finding your sweet spot with ease.
"Beg."
"I have been begging!" you sass, your attitude resulting in his fingers immediately being pulled out of you.
"No, no, no. I'm sorry. Eddie.. I'm sorry." you plead, yearning for his touch.
Eddie ignores you completely, fidgeting with the large ring on his finger mindlessly.
"Please touch me."
Eddie waits patiently, his dark eyes studying your face curiously as you squirm under him.
"Please. I'm begging you. Please let me cum.
“Make me feel good. Only you can make me feel good." you praise, feeling a rush of relief as his fingers glide into you once again.
"I know." he burns, his fingers reaching deeper, stroking rapidly, the sound of your wetness loud in the night.
"Oh my god... f-fuck... Eddie, please don't stop.. Please don't st-sto—" your urgent cries break off into silence as your jaw drops open, your orgasm hitting you unexpectedly.
Your legs tremble uncontrollably as your eyes roll instantly to the back of your head, your vision becoming nothing but stars as you finally get your sweet release.
"There we go.. Mmm... soak my hand, sweetheart."
You can feel your cum coat the inside of your thighs, soaking the sheets beneath you as your back arches off the bed.
"You're making such a mess, baby." Eddie mumbles lustfully as he watches you fall apart beneath his hand.
Your pussy spasms again and again around his ringed fingers, every nerve on your body is on fire as he continues fucking you with his hand, the beautiful sound of your slick coating his hand rings through the room.
"Such a pretty pussy." "Fuck, I love when you cum for me."
Praises pour from his lips as he works you through your orgasm.
"Eddie.." his name comes out hoarse as your body gradually comes down from your high.
"Good Girl, that's my good girl."
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Text
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♡︎𝐓𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐄𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚♡︎
Day 16 of Kinktober 2022
Summary: he's always been obsessed with your tits.
Props to my beta reader for today @sasualblxd - thank you for your amazing help!
556 words.
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Kirishima Eijirou was a "tits over ass any day" kind of man. It seemed as if every ten seconds had him reaching up your shirt to manhandle one of his stressballs.
"They're just so... Squishy... -a-and soft-"
That's exactly what your boyfriend said when you asked why he was so enamoured with them. Once deep, scarlet hues are now reduced to a thin ring around wide pupils, and past swollen lips lie sharp teeth that you find yourself wanting embedded into your breasts.
You love his obsession with your breasts. You're proud of your body, the self love that you'd been teaching yourself rearing it's head and finding a way to the light. Although, Eijirou, the sweetheart that he is, just loves your breasts because they're yours.
He lays behind you on the couch while the TV plays a movie that neither of you are really paying all that much attention to. The light illuminates you both, setting the mood in the otherwise dark room, while Kirishima fondles your breast absent mindedly. He's just doing it for fun - just because it's there, really, but that doesn't explain the sudden twitch you feel at your lower back.
Oh.
"Hey babe, what's up?...
"I want-... I- I want-.… To fuck them..."
Sorry, what?
Surely he doesn't mean...
"You wanna fuck who, now?"
He just snorts and mumbles into the back of your neck, giving you goosebumps as you feel his chest rumble against your back.
"No, silly... I wanna fuck your tits..."
Huh. Well at least you're not stunned and confused anymore. Now your just stunned. The idea seems fun, and the thought does bring a familiar heat between your thighs. You just wonder what's brought this on.
In reality, he's always fantasized about fucking your tits. It's the very image that gets him off when you're not there to help him, but he's finally got the confidence to ask for it now.
"... Alright. I don't see why not~"
He's almost cries at the relief of not being rejected immediately, rolling on top of you before you can say anything against it. Suddenly, your chest is met with cold air as you're stripped of your shirt, your bare breasts being massaged and pushed together.
He just loves to squeeze and play with them, though he wastes no time unzipping his fly and pushing down his pants. His cock, already at full mast, is an angry red at the tip, leaking precum all over his hand while he moans and shivers, staring at your tits like a man hypnotised.
You slowly push your tits together for him, giving him a teasing smirk as he practically drools, too aroused to be his usual, gentlemanly self. In seconds, he's kneeling over you with a hungry look in his eyes, pressing his cock between the little valley between your breasts, groaning at the contact. Pleasure shoots up his spine as his head is flung back, his eyes tearing up and his hips rutting shakily.
Each time the little head peaks out from the top of your breasts you reward it with a lick, and he practically falls apart exactly like you wanted him to. He's never came so quickly in his life, but you don't mind even as your face and chest is smeared in his spend.
He almost faints.
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© 2022 not-your-fucking-kacchan
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◃ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 ▹
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cheollipop · 1 year
Note
Ok why is this San…https://twitter.com/intimatespaces/status/1669599909702402049?s=20
Idk but I feel like San the type to go feral and fuck you at crazy speed and overstimulate you and see you squirm and he get off it. Love to teach a lesson but also praising and degrade you all the same time?!
(Sorry on my english)
nsfw link
your english is just fine love <3 (pretending I didn't punch a wall and howl when I first saw this)—thank you for giving me a reason to write jealous san~
nsfw under cut—minors dni!!
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you moved with san's heaving chest—your body stuck to his with a mixture of sweat and your head rolled back to rest over his shoulder. his arm firm around your waist, his other hand reached to grab your jaw, angling your head sideways to meet your eyes.
"what are you thinking about, sweetheart?"
he was mocking you, you could tell. his voice lowered an octave and his eyebrows furrowed in faux concern. you didn't need a mirror to invision your appearance—eyes rolling back with every lurch of his hips, drool and tears coursing down the sides of your face, lips bitten and swollen from san's torturous nibbles. you barely registered the question, partly due to the loud reverberation of san's thighs slapping against yours, pounding his cock into you ruthlessly. your mind hazed in a thick fog of pleasure, you babbled uselessly— repetitions of his name broken up by pathetic whimpers.
"you were all over yunho earlier, but you're screaming my name now, aren't you, darling?" He cooed, brushing your hair off your forehead to press a kiss to your temple.
his hips ground languidly into your sopping cunt, the smooth glide of his cock between your walls sending you over the edge for the third time that night.
"how many times was that?" he rasped into your ear, your thighs trembling violently and shutting around the hand san sneaked between them.
"w-wait-"
"don't wanna," he peppered kisses to the side of your head, pushing your legs apart once again and hooking them over his thighs, hammering his cock into you and fucking you through the overstimulation. "my sweet girl wanted to be a slut for the day, so I'm gonna treat her like one." three fingers landed a firm slap on your clit, then another, feeling a coy smile against the skin of your neck before they began moving over the sensitive nub, flicking it back and forth while you writhed atop of san's body. "you didn't answer my question, slut. how many times was that?"
your body jerked away from him and—with a broken cry—rolled sideways. "three- f-four!" you shuddered against his chest, the press of his cockhead into your g-spot hurling you into another orgasm. "sannie, I-I can't!" you grabbed a fistful of the sheets by your head, your other hand drawing thin crescents over san's knuckles where they held onto your waist, his cock relentless as it continued to piston into you.
"you can take it," he slotted his thighs behind yours, the hand on your waist slipping down to hold your hips, squeezing the flesh to spread you open for him. he started with a slow grind, sheathing his length inside your overstimulated cunt and groaning into the crook of your neck. "my good girl wants sannie's cum, doesn't she?"
it hurt when you swallowed the drool pooling in your mouth, your throat scratchy and dry from the moans san ripped out of you. you nodded frantically, pushing your hips back into him, your walls clenching uncontrollably around his cock. "w-want it, please."
"of course you do," he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, moving back to lick over the marks he left behind. "my little slut wants her pussy filled to the brim, doesn't she? until she's dripping cum everywhere," he chuckled wryly, angling his cockhead just right and returning to his relentless pace.
his rhythm grew desperate, cock twitching between your fluttering walls and profanities slipping off his tongue as he chased his high. elongated chants of his name escaped through your gritted teeth while you begged him to cum, your nerves on fire as he worked them to their limit with skilled drives into your dripping cunt. he came with a guttural groan, the arm around your waist bringing you impossibly closer to him as he emptied his load inside you, hot ribbons of white shooting deep inside you and, once again, pushing you over the edge.
"fuck," san shuddered behind you, holding onto your hip while his other arm slid beneath you and over your chest. "such a good girl for me," a firm thrust to stuff his length into your used hole, "all mine to use," and another as he shot the last of his load inside. he smoothed a hand over your sides, soothing the violent spasms shaking your body, your walls clenching around his softening cock as you came down from your high.
a proud smile tugged the corners of san's lips upwards, a breathy mutter muffled over your shoulder, "five."
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Rest Had Seemed The Sweetest Thing.
Bucky's slowly learning that love isn't a finite resource. aka, Bucky's first Christmas.
pairing - bucky barnes x female reader
warnings - none!! just tooth rottingly sweet fluff <3
word count - 1.7k
author's note - based on these two requests!! i'm also trying a new post format... what do we think?? I promised you i'd get a couple of xmas fics out before the 25th... I lied. apologies!! forgive me. title taken from the poem The Owl by Edward Thomas.
as always, if you enjoyed, please reblog!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics. thanks, angels <3
masterlist. inbox.
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He whispers the words, timid and reserved, directly into your ear as if he's worried someone else will hear. It's only the two of you sat on the couch in your shared apartment, but Bucky's nervous.
Your head whips around in shock, trying to play it cool. Failed.
"Are you... are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure."
You grin, big and blinding, the beams of it radiating into Bucky's bones. It settles into his muscles, eases the tension from his shoulders.
You try not to make a big deal of it, try to keep your excitement under wraps. But you've been waiting for him to say those words for almost six years.
"I want to do Christmas this year."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
He hates the cold.
No, he's traumatised by the cold.
Years spent frozen, genetically modified and locked in a glorified freezer. Every gust of wind, every flake of snow reminds him of the darkest days with no light to be seen. His blood may run hot, but he feels like his heart is yet to thaw. He debates moving to the desert at least ten times a day.
Then he looks at you. How happy you are when winter comes around. The way your face lights up when it snows. And he figures that if it brings you this much joy... maybe he can tolerate it.
He bites back the chill, grits his teeth at the icy breeze, ignores the shudder of the cold all the way down to his bones. He grins and bears it, because you love it. He thinks you don't notice.
You do.
You've known ever since you met him. His demeanour changes when the winter comes around. He gets a little tentative around the autumn time, as if he's preparing himself for the worst. And then the first snow falls, and he's different. Guarded. Careful. Reluctant. He puts a fake smile on his face and pretends, but you're nothing if not completely in tune with everything Bucky Barnes.
You never asked, never pried. Just stood steadily by his side, regardless of the walls he'd placed around himself. Around his heart.
He broke down one night, wrapped up in bed with you. A chill had blown through your old apartments rickety windows and unearthed old memories, ice running into his veins. He was sure his tears were frozen as they dripped down his face.
You understood him better, since that day.
You've tried to suggest moving in subtle and not so subtle ways, but he won't have it. He knows this is your home. He knows you like it here. He knows he can stay, if he works a little harder on himself.
So, he tries. Every single day, he tries. And that's all that matters.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Okay, so... ground rules. Hit me, Buck. We do this on your terms."
He thinks for a moment before turning to face you.
"I want it to be just us. No one else."
"Done."
"And I don't wanna do the whole Christmas dinner thing. Feels like too much all at once."
You fight the urge to burst into tears at how easily he's communicating with you, how effortlessly he's enforcing his boundaries. You've come a long way.
"Done. Agreed, by the way. Fuck Christmas dinner. We'll do our own thing."
He grins at you, leaning in to kiss you slowly, tenderly, leisurely. Like you have all the time in the world.
"I want to get a tree. And lights. We don't have to do all the ornaments and stuff, but lights would be nice."
"I have an artificial tree in the back of the storage closet... is that okay?"
"Perfect. I don't want to stand on all the pine needles, anyway."
Laughing, you shift closer to him, tangling your legs together on the couch.
"And no gifts for me."
"But Buck-"
"Angel. I don't want anything. I have everything I need sat next to me."
You roll your eyes, but you can't wipe the smile off your face.
"This isn't fair, suddenly."
"It's plenty fair. You stress too much when you buy gifts, and this is going to be a stress free Christmas. Understood?"
He hooks his fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.
"Understood," you whisper, swinging your knee over so you're straddling him. "Stress free."
Bucky tilts his head up to kiss you, gentle at first, then firmer when you roll your hips into his. He's a little distracted, admittedly. He got you to promise not to get him anything, but made sure you wouldn't ask the same. His mind runs a mile a minute, trying to wrack his brain on what kind of gift to get for the love of his life, the person that saved him and continues to save him every single day.
He comes up empty, but lets you kiss the thoughts away for a little while.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"My mom taught me this specific way to hang lights on your tree. Look, grab this end and I'll show you."
You're both still in your pyjamas, fire roaring, a jazzy Christmas melody playing from the radio. You decided you wouldn't put up your tree until the day before, to save Bucky from feeling overwhelmed. It's worked, so far - he looks plenty relaxed as he chuckles and rises from the armchair.
"You're tall, so hold this above your head so they don't tangle."
You work diligently, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrate. Bucky's happy to watch you, fighting the smile off his face every time you sigh in exasperation. Eventually, you step back and admire your masterpiece, satisfied and content.
"It's beautiful, baby," he whispers, wrapping his arms around you from behind.
He presses a kiss into your neck, then another, then another. Your eyes slip closed, and you sink into his embrace, feeling more at peace than you ever thought possible. You spend the evening by the fire, lying on the rug, room illuminated by the lights on the tree.
It's perfect in every way.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Merry Christmas, angel."
"Merry Christmas, Buck."
His hand finds yours under the duvet, pulling you in close. You tangle yourself around him like lights on a tree, all encompassed by his warmth.
"What's the plan for today, Sergeant?"
He presses a kiss into your temple, propping himself up on his elbow so he can see you properly.
"I say we make some breakfast, spend all day on the couch, and then maybe make some dinner? I know we said we wouldn't do a traditional Christmas dinner, but it'd still be nice to take the time to cook something."
"That sounds perfect."
In the kitchen, you make pancakes with copious amounts of maple syrup, strawberries and pieces of banana strewn across your plates.
"My Mom made us pancakes every Christmas morning, you know."
"You've never told me that."
"I know. I kind of refrained from ever talking about anything festive, because I didn't want you to feel guilty."
"For making you miss out for so many years?"
"I haven't missed out, baby. I chose not to do Christmas because I love you. And that love takes precedent over everything else."
Bucky kisses you then, across the kitchen table, full and golden and so full of love you almost fall off your chair. He tastes like blueberry jam and syrup and coffee, and you wish you could bottle it up and stick a little under your tongue when you get homesick.
"What changed?"
"Hmm?"
"Why now? I would have been content to never do Christmas again, if it made you happy."
"Because I realised something, a couple of months ago. We were sat in the park, and you were laughing at that dog chasing the boomerang. The sun was making you glow, like some sort of angel, and I just knew. I can do anything with you by my side. I can't put my future on hold because of my past."
You're fighting back tears as you look at him, so happy and content. You never thought this was possible, when you first met him.
And here you are.
Celebrating Christmas, showing him your childhood traditions, making pancakes like your Mama used to. You're sat at the kitchen table as the snow falls outside and the warmth that Bucky's love brings is keeping the chill at bay.
It doesn't get better than this.
"I got you something," he murmurs almost sheepishly.
"Bucky-"
"Don't yell at me! I know it makes me a hypocrite, I know I said no gifts, I know."
You roll your eyes, but watch his every move as he gets up and leaves the room. You finish your breakfast and put both of your plates in the sink, turning on the tap so they can soak. When you turn around, Bucky has returned.
He's on one knee.
There's a ring between his fingers, glinting in the winter sun. You're both still in your pyjamas, warm and full, not quite having shaken off the heavy embrace of sleep just yet.
It's perfect.
"Maybe it's cliche to propose on Christmas day, but... I want to replace all of my old memories with new ones. Memories like this."
You walk over to him, kneeling down in front of him so your eyes are level.
"You've taught me what love is, baby. And I can never repay you for that. But I can certainly try. Every day, I can try."
There are tears dripping down both of your cheeks, Bucky's grin matching yours. The two of you are overwhelmed in the best way, unsure of how to process the gravity of what you're feeling.
"Marry me, baby. Let's do this forever."
You lunge forward and smash your lips to his, laughing into his mouth.
"Yes," you breathe when you pull away. "God, yes. A million times yes, Buck."
His arms wrap around your middle as he picks you up, twirling you in circles around the kitchen, both of you shrieking with joy.
Bucky slips the ring onto your finger when he puts you down, both of you tilting your heads to admire it.
"I love you," you murmur, leaning up to press your foreheads together. "The cold can't touch you now, baby. This love will warm us forever."
The cold can't touch him now. Love will warm him forever.
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@lizzystuffsthings <3
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mytheoristavenue · 3 months
Text
MHA Eijrio Kirishima x Reader - Heart Can't Take It
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Summary: You and Kirishima finally make up after a big fight.
Warning: Slight angst, fluff, make out, implied sex, tooth rotting sweet stuff
You've both giving one another the silent treatment for over a week now, even electing to be assigned new patrol partners at work. Was this the end of your relationship? Over a silly argument that, looking back, neither of you could even remember the reason for? He couldn't let that happen.
That's why he now stood at your door, still in his costume, hot off the clock. You both stated at eachother, almost forgetting that either of were ever angry, but he put his boot over the threshold anyways, just in case you decided to slam the door in his face. "Can we talk?"
Now you both stood in the living room of your apartment, feeling as if you were back in high-school with childish crushes on one another. "I miss you, babe." He finally admits stepping towards you.
"I miss you too," you repeat his sentiments, also stepping forward.
"'Fore we talk, can I have a kiss?" He asks, sheepishly, hoping a sign of affection will break the ice. You nod, cheeks burning and wait expectantly for a peck on the lips. Leaning down, his hands cup your cheeks and he plants the first kiss he'd given away in almost two full weeks onto your waiting lips.
Except, he forgot to pull away. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, taking his lips away just enough to move them before pecking again. "For bein' so stubborn." Another peck. "Shoulda come talk to you," And another. "Sooner..."
You couldn't keep the relieved tears from spilling down your cheeks back as you fell into the same pattern. "No, I'm sorry," you argued weakly in between kisses. "Shouldn't have yelled at you," You pressed another desperate hiss to his lips. "Like that..."
In such little time, you were both on your couch, sweetly making out, whispering sorrowful apologizes into one another's mouths. "Can't even remember," he pants licking away a strand of saliva from his lip. "What we...we're fighting about,"
"Me neither," you confessed, brushing your lips over his. "Whatever it was, it wasn't worth being away from you..."
"Agreed," he smiled, melting a bit at your expression. "Thought I was gonna die this week, can't stand bein' away from my baby."
"Me too," you lamented, hanging off his neck with an exhausted sigh. "Don't ever leave mee again, Eiji..."
"Wouldn't dream of it, babe." He replied with a grin cracking across his face, sharp teeth gleaming in the light. "Let's never fight again, 'kay?"
"'Kay," you agreed with a small giggle which became all the sweeter when you felt him begin to lift you off the couch.
"Now, how's about we make up for lost time, huh?" He asked playfully, cradling you in his arms as he stood. "Think skipping workouts, ordering in, and spending the rest of the day is in order."
Before you can say yes, he's already peppering kisses up and down your neck and carrying you off to the bedroom. "Missed you so much, baby," he murmured, laying you down at the foot of the bed. "Never wanna go another day without kissing this pretty face," To punctuate the statement, he presses a loving, longing, passionate kiss to your swollen lips. "Please don't ever make me, my heart can't take it!"
And then, through relieved sighs, and appreciative touches, you promise one another to never repeat the same mistakes twice. A senual and solum vow to remember your time as apart as a cautionary tale as to the consequences of miscommunication. Needless to say, you did bicker a few times after that, but there was never another time you both didn't immediately make moves to reconcile. Your pride wasn't worth going a second without being absolutely devoted and obsessed with one another.
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lithium80writer · 1 year
Text
Tease: Eddie Munson blurb
⚠️18+ explicit sexual content. Minors DNI⚠️
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“Eddie… Eddie please…” you whisper softly, your heart pounding rapidly in your chest.
“Mmm.. no can do, sweetheart. Only good girls get to cum.”
“I’ll be good. I promise.. please let me cum..” you whine, your clit swollen from his nonstop torture.
You don’t know how long has passed but it feels like hours. Hours of incessant teasing. Teeth imprints and red marks litter your skin like some twisted form of art. Your entire body feels like it's going to explode from the constant edging.
You pull against the restraints hearing the metal handcuffs clink against the bedpost.
“Baby..”
“Shh…” he hums as his thumb meets your throbbing clit once more making your legs clamp shut around his wrist.
Eddie chuckles darkly as his strong hands land on your knees, forcing them apart.
“Fuck!” you squeal as he plants his face in between your legs, lapping furiously at your soaked pussy.
“I- Eddie! It’s too much!” you cry out but he doesn’t stop. His hands keep your legs spread, pressing your knees firmly into the mattress as you struggle to keep your eyes open.
His tongue flicks and swirls wildly, never in one place long enough to get you there. Just enough to keep you aching for more. Desperate moans flee your lips with every movement from his wicked tongue.
He leans up, spitting on your pussy, giving it a rough smack making your body jolt, back arching off the bed.
“Shit!”
“That pussy tastes so good, baby. You’re fucking soaked…” he murmurs, slipping two fingers inside, the chill of his rings sending shivers throughout your entire body.
“P-please…” you whimper, tears prick your eyes from the frustration.
Eddie’s brown eyes lock onto yours as a small smirk appears on his pretty lips.
“You wanna cum, sweetheart?” he taunts.
You nod adamantly as a tear rolls down your cheek.
His fingers curl perfectly, finding your sweet spot with ease.
“Beg.”
“I have been begging!” you sass, your attitude resulting in his fingers immediately being pulled out of you.
“No, no, no. I'm sorry. Eddie.. I'm sorry.” you plead, yearning for his touch.
Eddie ignores you completely, fidgeting with the large ring on his finger mindlessly.
“Please touch me.”
Eddie waits patiently, his dark eyes studying your face curiously as you squirm under him.
“Please. I'm begging you. Please let me cum. Make me feel good. Only you can make me feel good.” you praise, feeling a rush of relief as his fingers glide into you once again.
“I know.” he burns, his fingers reaching deeper, stroking rapidly, the sound of your wetness loud in the night.
“Oh my god… f-fuck… Eddie, please don't stop.. Please don't st-sto—” your urgent cries break off into silence as your jaw drops open, your orgasm hitting you unexpectedly.
Your legs tremble uncontrollably as your eyes roll instantly to the back of your head, your vision becoming nothing but stars as you finally get your sweet release.
“There we go.. Mmm… soak my hand, sweetheart.”
You can feel your cum coat the inside of your thighs, soaking the sheets beneath you as your back arches off the bed.
“You're making such a mess, baby.” Eddie mumbles lustfully as he watches you fall apart beneath his hand.
Your pussy spasms again and again around his ringed fingers, every nerve on your body is on fire as he continues fucking you with his hand, the beautiful sound of your slick coating his hand rings through the room.
“Such a pretty pussy..” “Fuck, I love when you cum for me.”
Praises pour from his lips as he works you through your orgasm.
“Eddiee..” his name comes out hoarse as your body gradually comes down from your high.
“Good Girl, that’s my good girl.”
Masterlist of full oneshots found here 🖤🖤🖤
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partycatty · 6 months
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I don’t know if you’re open to requests but me and my friend have this hc and I would like to see your rendition of it. The reader is stressed about their Algebra test coming up and since Johnny has a PhD in quantum mechanics and deals with that stuff, he offers to help. And as the reader is thinking on the problem Johnny gives them, they put the pencil in their mouth seductively but are unaware of it and Johnny gets a little… riled up. And you can take it from there :)
Love ya !! 🥰💜
ough i love me a big smart man
johnny cage > teach you a lesson
notes: my last fic took all of my mental strength for smut for now so it's only gonna be implied
[ masterlist ]
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• damn you and your stubbornness, you're here trying to get your engineering degree and the class you put off all these years finally creeps up on you... and you hate math. thankfully, your best friend has a phd (which still baffles you when you think about it too much; not that he's stupid, more that it's so out of left field for him that you thought he was joking when he first told you).
• knocking on his door, he answers so quickly you wonder if he tumbled down the stairs to answer you in record time. he was always ready to do anything you asked of him, so you knew he was the right person to go to
• you explain the situation, about how you're teetering on the edge of just tearing your textbooks apart with your teeth before he slows you down with his hands on your shoulders.
• johnny ushers you in, welcoming you to his dining room after sweeping the various accumulation of stuff littering every surface to a degree.
• johnny's smarter than you gave him credit for, focusing on his well-articulated lecture but you find yourself missing the middle portion of his lessons when his veiny arms are exposed as he rolls up his shirt. his hands were so defined, so strong...
• "are you even listening?" he groans dramatically, waving said head in front of your face. "you wanna pass this class or not?"
• you swallow thickly, though the subject is still shamefully fuzzy in your mind. nodding slowly, johnny pinches the bridge of his nose before resuming.
• "maybe this'll be easier if we..." he leans over your seated form, towering over you as he flips your notes to a blank page over your shoulder. "here." he writes an example equation, a relatively easy one so he could break it down for you.
• shaking the dirty thoughts, you try to pick the equation apart, separating what you know is in the correct order of operations, but you're stumped when the denominators don't add up like they should.
• the tip of your pencil brushes against your bottom lip as your brows knit in thought. it swiped across the width of your lip, pushing in ever so slightly against your teeth as you desperately try to find a way past the confusion.
• johnny falls eerily silent, fists clenching as he breathing feels hot and heavy down your neck. he rubs his face, circling the table with a long sigh. the noise draws your attention, completely oblivious to how tight his pants were from the display.
• "sorry," you sheepishly look down at the paper. "this is... a lot."
• "no... no! you're fine!" johnny snaps himself back to reality at your puppy eyed expression, like his desperation for you was somehow your fault when it was really his for not knowing how to keep things in control.
• you feel smaller as you sink into the chair, trying to retrace your steps through the numbers. instinctively, the pencil finds its way to your mouth again and you gently suck on the shortened eraser, your tongue pressing against the head of it as the multiplication takes its time in your mind.
• johnny chokes on air, punching his chest to hide his flustered face. he can't even look at you or you might notice the steam from his ears.... why were you here again?
• "you're not helping," you remind him teasingly, and he jogs to your side with a cool breath to regulate his temperature. "did i do this right?"
• johnny leans down, his chin almost on your shoulder as he inspects your work. the error stands out to him at lightning speed and he pulls at your wrist, abruptly tugging the pencil from your mouth and slamming it against the table.
• "there," he huffs out, circling the error with his finger. "five over nine. not nine over five." his eyes flick between the back of your head and the pencil, and the way the eraser shines. he might pass out if he thinks too hard about it.
• he should've picked an easier equation so you'd stop thinking so damn hard about this, he thinks. the pencil wanders back between your lips and it's when you bite down on the pink tip his flat palm slaps the table, making everything rattle. you jump and look up with a shocked expression.
• "can you... not." he breathes, cheeks red and brows furrowed.
• "not... what?" you look down, maybe you had a bad habit in the math process?
• "don't do that." he's being vague, it's getting on your nerves.
• "you're gonna have to be clearer."
• "keep that thing away from your mouth," johnny points at your fingers twirling the pencil, an accusatory finger firm like he caught it committing a crime.
• "the pencil?" you're caught off guard, wondering what his issue is.
• "yes, the damn pencil!" he groans, running a hand down his face. "can't think straight for a single second when you're... you know."
• it clicks in your head, what he's asking of you. it flusters you but also fills you with an egotistical desire. you always had a lingering crush on your best friend, but you never wanted to act on it out of fear of losing the best thing that ever happened to you. johnny's deep, dark voice makes your core stir as you think about the possibilities, how to test the waters from here.
• you slowly place it flat against your tongue, trying to ignore the taste as you relish in the way johnny twitches his eye at the sight. he wants to look away but you're forcing him to, that knowing glint fatal for his heart. the thought of your tongue holding the heavy weight of his thumb, or worse, his dick, is driving him up the wall.
• johnny stomps beside you, grabbing your wrist and pulling the pencil away, managing to throw it out of your grasp and capturing your lips with his own as the pencil rolls off on its own adventure.
• his kiss is consuming, far too much for your mind as you grow dizzy at the loss of breath. his hands pull at your face and neck, trying to squish your face against his as he swallows every whimper and gasp for breath you expel.
• just as he pulls away to get oxygen, his thumb slides between your lips and presses against your tongue, your hot and heavy breath driving him wild.
• "are you really trying to do this to me?" he asks as your lips wrap around his finger, sucking gently. his eyes flutter shut and he groans, nodding downward with his head.
• "maybe," you quietly reply through his finger, sinking to your knees in front of him, sliding your hands up his outer thighs. you're perfectly in line with his crotch, but your eyes are too busy admiring the flustered actor above you as he looks down his nose. he pulls his thumb away, groaning at the thin trail of saliva that falls down your lip from the loss.
• "i'll teach you a lesson," he reaches for his belt buckle, the clinking of metal dulling every sense but your hearing.
• you can study later... probably.
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mustainegf · 5 months
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Hi could you do something where black album era James and a fem reader go to a party but they grow needy so they go to the bathroom
I love this stuff and it was so fun to write, I also have a fic really similar to this one so I’ll link it here :)
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The party bustled loudly, and despite the noise, my brain was buzzing with a tension of its own. My boyfriend James, stood across the room with a friend of his, paying me a flirty glance every so often, followed by him adjusting the bulge in his jeans.
Every time he tried to hide his horniness, the flutter between my thighs inscreased.
There was a silent understanding between us. I knew he was horny, and he knew just as well that I was too.
I could see it in his eyes-the way he was looking at me.
The lust. It was simmering right under the surface, waiting for an excuse to explode. And that was exactly what we both wanted.
I glanced at the handsome man, quirking my head to motion to the bathroom.
He gave me a wink, and then nodded. I smiled and sat up from the couch, quickly moving to the bathroom, swaying my hips to tease him.
I snuck into the washroom. James wasn't far behind me, glancing around to make sure nobody noticed before slipping into the small space with me.
He pushed the door shut with a little more force than necessary, making it clear he had been longing for this moment all night.
Ache flicked the lock, sealing us in here together.
"Jesus Christ, you look sexy," James muttered before crashing his lips onto mine.
My back hit the door as our kiss turned desperate, but neither one of us cared. We didn't care about anyone or anything except each other, and that made everything else feel so damn good.
James pulled away, breaking the kiss with a soft groan. "Fuck, I can't wait much longer." His hands trailed down my stomach, coming to rest on my ass.
It wasn't long before we were violently stripping each other down.
James grabbed me with abandon, Liston game and sitting me up on the small sink counter.
Our eyes met again, this time a silent promise passed between us. This is it. No turning back.
We both knew this. Our lips crashed against each other once more, tongues tangling together. One hand gripped my waist while the other trailed up my side, until it found my breast.
Then he kneaded it gently, squeezing it lightly. My breath caught in my throat as he toyed with my nipple with his thumb and index finger. His touch was rougher than usual, but that only spiked my desire for him.
I ran my nails down his chest, loving the scratch of his hair against my palms. As soon as I touched his cock, I felt him twitch. He moaned softly.
I loved how responsive he was to me. I couldn't help but take advantage of it.
I stroked him up and down, not caring that I was sitting up on a random small sink. All I cared about was how good this man made me feel.
"I can't take it, I need to be in you."
He looked like he was going to tear apart if I didn't let him inside me. I was so close myself. The urge to have him was too strong to ignore any longer.
"Then do something about it," I taunted.
"You want this, don't you?" he growled, pulling his cock out of my hand. I nodded. "Yes." He slid in slowly, filling me completely. I leaned back, enjoying the feeling of fullness.
"Jamie!" I yelled, grabbing his shoulders. James was quick to press a finger to my lips. "Gotta be quiet, can you do that for me?"
I nodded. "Yes." He pounded into me hard and fast, making my legs tremble. The hard smack of our bodies filled the tiny space, but it did nothing to cover the moans and grunts we both let loose.
"Tell me how much you love it, use your words, I wanna hear that pretty voice," he demanded, the room filling with wet and obscene sounds.
I could hardly force out any sort of sentence. "L-love it." I huffed. "Come on, you can do better than that."
James sucked a breath through his teeth as J tightened around him. "Let me hear you." He demanded again.
"I love it... Jamie... I love it." He slammed into me harder and faster, using the counter and my hips to hold himself up.
I screamed, holding on for dear life. In response, he pressed his lips to mine and started humming, moving his body in tune with the sound. I was drowning in sensations, so many of them, Ilost control.
I clawed at his arms, trying desperately to get closer to him. He moved his lips from mine and whispered, "That's it, babyy."
He continued to whisper filthy things in my ear, telling me how good I was, how I felt so damn good wrapped around him. The wet sounds of sex echoed through the small space, creating a cacophony of noises.
I could barely think straight. The haze of pleasure was growing stronger by the second.
"Cum for me baby, I'm so close.." James groaned in my ear.
Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him close as he pumped a few more times Until we were both writhing with our climax. I felt him shoot his cum deep into me, painting my insides.
We sat in silence for a minute or two, just breathing. Ilaughed softly, kissing James' cheek.
"Fuck, I can't believe we did that.."
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