#I try to be so careful with my words but 'bitch that's a whole new sentence' really encapsulates how I feel about so many responses I get

[trans-androgyne]

There is a meme about someone saying they like pancakes, and people instantly going "so you hate waffles?"

I think about that a lot whenever I see people being weird on your posts about transandrophobia.

So much friction in the trans community comes from viewing men and women as opposites, and it's really sad to see. Apparently you can't talk about trans men without saying something about or actively taking away from trans women. And if you say someone is oppressed you're saying everyone else is their oppressor. As an autistic person, people always claiming what I'm saying "implies" xyz makes me so stressed because no, as always I mean the literal words I am saying and not a single thing more :/

[anundyingfidelity]

DO YOU HATE ME THAT MUCH? — Billy Butcher

Summary: Butcher gives orders for you to stay back from the fight. You hardly comply and prove differently; he starts thinking in a very improper manner about you.

Pairing: Billy Butcher x female!supe reader.

Word count: 2k.

Warnings: smut!! hate sex, unprotected sex, fingering, enemies to fuck buddies, reader can control blood and explode shit (like Victoria Neuman lol), the usual mentions of violence.

Notes: this is a request made by @thatcharmingmushroom for my 400 followers drabbles celebration. I'm sorry I took soooo damn long on this, but I hope you like it and thank you so much for the idea because I had so much fun with it! I picked the Herogasm episode for this tho hehe

☕ if you like my writing support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

On the hunt for Payback, you made your way to infiltrate Herogasm along with Butcher, Hughie and the new asshole, Soldier Boy, not caring that the British dick ordered you a thousand times to stay back.

For different reasons, you were kind of forced to stay with the team, and while you didn’t really get along with any of them, Butcher was by far the one you hated the most. And, in the end, when Soldier Boy burned the whole place to the ground with a blast and Homelander arrived, you couldn’t stand there doing nothing. While the three men tried to hold down Homelander, you used your blood to create strong whips around his limbs, trying to tie him to the ground as Soldier Boy prepared to blast, yet again.

But just in seconds, Homelander recharged himself and pushed them all aside, cutting your whips, and flashing you quickly with his heat vision before storming out. Your blood blades barely made it to the hole he left in the roof as the supe just disappeared, flying away like a scared bitch.

“Well,” you started after an instant of staying silent. “I guess we fucking failed.”

Butcher shot you a dark glare as he walked straight until he stopped in front of you. “You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered.

You held his eyes as he towered you with his broad figure. He looked even more intimidating now he started playing the supe, injecting himself with Compund V. “I don’t care.”

There was this smug smirk on his face as you talked back. You knew he hated you; you knew you hated him. But as fucking weird your powers were, controling blood and exploding people with their own, Butcher found you interesting and stupidly astonishing. But of course, he wasn’t going to admit it. They were just intrusive thoughts about you and how hot you were, defying his direct orders of strictly not coming to the supe-orgy. Yeah, Homelander was a fucking cunt, and he would take care of Soldier Boy soon too. Right now, he just needed something to take the stress out after another stupid failure. His hand would work later once back at the motel, he decided.

Butcher leaned down, until his lips almost brushed the shell of your ear. “We’ll see about that.”

“Why do I have to keep listening to you?” you asked as Butcher followed back to the motel.

You stopped right out of your door, because of course you weren’t going to share a room with him and the old asshole. Hughie, who went inside their room, was the only decent human being between all of them, but still, you had to take care of yourself from those fuckers. Besides, the British idiot wouldn’t stop the verbal vomiting the whole fucking trip and you were growing sick of it.

“Because, for starters, you’re a fucking newbie here,” Butcher replied, smirking hatefully. “And second, your powers are fucking out of control. You need training and keep your mouth shut.”

You rolled your eyes, showing him your wrists. “I already healed myself from the cuts I made. Perhaps I should use your blood next time?”

“No, there’s no next time for you.”

“You don’t decide that, Butcher,” you crossed your arms over your chest, tired of being treated like a stupid kid. “I’m helping on this, I want him dead. And if any of you idiots don’t kill him, then I will.”

He curved an eyebrow, not showing any signs of being taken aback at your words, but inside, he was just in awe as before. You really hated Homelander as much as he did, however, you didn’t have a fucking plan. You would attack first, ask questions later. In any way, since when could he care about that? He had no idea.

“Hey,” Soldier Boy talked behind Butcher and stepped in closer between both of you. “You fucking stay back from this, you ain’t doing shit with your blood whips.”

Furious, you motioned your hand to draw fresh blood from a wound on his cheek and created a sharp blade, cutting his skin lightly. Soldier Boy clenched his jaw before smirking at you.

“Talk to me like that ever again and I’ll blow your dick, and not the way you like it,” you warned through your teeth.

Soldier Boy wiped the blood off the fresh wound, and smiled anew before patting Butcher on the shoulder. “She’s all yours, pal.”

With that, the old supe disappeared in the next room. You just wanted this to be over, so you turned around to get inside your room, but Butcher wouldn’t leave you alone just yet, putting his foot between the door and the frame, holding it with his super strength.

“What the fuck you want now?!” you yelled at him as he made his way inside, slamming the door closed.

“Imma have to call the fucking CIA if you don’t calm down your ass,” he threatened between his teeth.

“You wouldn’t-”

“I can, and I fucking will,” he insisted, taking slow strides, making you step back from him until your back met the wall.

His eyes were getting dangerously dark and you could smell the sweat and dry blood coming from him. You noticed his pulse was increasing, and you grinned. Your mind jumped to an unsafe place where you probably knew what Butcher was feeling right now. The heat and coming down the high of what could have been the end of both yours and his enemy was too much to burden. Little did he know that you were the kind of person that used to take out the stress with something, or someone. Just like him.

“From one to ten, how much do you hate me?” you asked all of the sudden, looking straight into his eyes.

Butcher’s fierceful gaze turned into confusion. “What?”

“How fucking much do you hate me?” you repeated yourself steadier.

Butcher rolled his eyes before answering in a whisper. “I’d choose a one thousand scale for that.”

“Good, I hate you too,” you replied with a smirk before pulling him for a kiss that turned heated too fast, but you didn’t care.

You needed release. Something quick, hard and hot to take it out of your system. He was perfect for the task, and by the way his tongue tasted your mouth, you found out that he wouldn’t step back. At least you hoped so. The tension between both of you was so damn sharp and it was just a matter of time for that bomb to explode, and you preferred it this way instead of fighting each other to death.

Gripping the neck of his shirt to get even closer as you kissed, Butcher’s hands roamed all over your hips, running on your sides until he met the flesh of your ass on your jeans, pressing you towards his chest. You gasped against his mouth when he started to unzip your pants, you worked immediately on the buttons of his shirt. Desperately, you discharged his shirt, the fabric being followed to his pants, and he undressed you with the same eagerness until you were only panties and bra.

Butcher lifted you up from the ground, hands on your thighs as he guided you to the mattress. He crawled on top of you, spreading your legs with his big, rough hands and leaning down to lick down at your chest and rip your bra off. His action made you gasp out loud at the same time he sucked on a nipple like a starved man.

“You're a fucking beast,” you whimpered, feeling his hands peeling off your panties and leaving you completely exposed at his mercy.

You tugged at his jeans and he pulled them down along with his boxers as quickly as he could, taking out his dick with that smug smile on his stupid face. He noticed your eyes taking the sight of his half nakedness, biting your lip slightly once you focused on his hard cock pressing on your crotch. It only made you wet.

“Well, I plan to fuck you like one,” he said, grabbing the back of your legs and rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet folds.

“Show me, don’t talk- fuck!”

You let out a rather loud moan when he rubbed your clit with his fingers, playing with your entrance until he inserted a single, thick digit in your pussy. Butcher stretched you out with a finger, then slid a second one, scissoring them to reach your deepest spots as your walls clenched around his digits. You kept whimpering and moaning as he increased the thrusts of his hand.

“Bloody fuck, these are the only sounds I like coming from your mouth, luv,” he hissed, sensing that you almost came on his fingers.

Right before you reached your high, he pulled out and you groaned in annoyance, feeling empty once again.

“Shit,” you breathed out.

He positioned between your legs anew, getting comfortable as he started to push his tip against your slit. The grip of his hands on your thighs became a little harsh once he entered you slowly, the thickness of his cock splitting you open.

“What a tight cunt I always knew you’d be,” he grunted, filling you up completely and leaning down to mark your neck with his teeth.

His mouth and thrusts earned him your sweet moans as he fucked you senseless. The burning soon turned into pleasure. Your nails scratched his back while moaning incoherent words. His hands on your thighs would leave marks on your skin, but it felt so damn good. You needed a little bit of pain to remind you that you were alive, rotting for that sweet bliss only sex could give you.

Moans escaped from your throat and mingled with his deep groans and the sound of your skin against his own, the headboard of the bed hitting the wall with every of his hard thrusts. You pulled him down for a wet kiss when you felt closer and closer to come undone.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasped.

Butcher increased the rhythm of his thrusts, his cock throbbing as your walls started to clench around him.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he mumbled against your mouth.

“Do you still hate me?” you asked, trying to catch your breath. You reached down to rub your clit. You were so close, almost there.

“If I keep fucking you like this then I might change my mind- holy fuck!”

In that moment, you came hard with a string of curses and clenching your walls around his cock. The pound of his hips increased and he fucked you through your orgasm to reach his own. You continued rubbing your clit, fingers finding the place where you two connected, meeting his cock coated with your juices when he pulled out just slightly to slam back inside again.

Butcher emptied his cum inside you, mumbling dirty words against your ear. His rhythm slowing down eventually, fucking his seed in your pussy. Once he came down from his high, he pulled out and rolled by your side on the bed. Your body started to ache but in the best way possible. It was the best fuck you had in a long time. After a couple of minutes in complete silence you decided to talk, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“I hope you keep hating on me…”

He turned slightly to see your blank face. “Why?”

“I love hate-fucking.”

He scoffed with a smile curving on his lips. “You bet I enjoyed this too.”

Within a second, you climbed on top of him. Thighs straddling his lap as you rubbed your cunt on his soft cock.

“Second round? You can eat me out and suck your cum out of me,” you gave him a wink, rolling your hips and leaning down for a quick kiss.

“Dirty girl,” Butcher whispered on your lips. “Perhaps put your mouth into good use.”

“I like how that sounds,” you smiled back at him.

Billy Butcher taglist

@delaynew

@thesilmarillionblog

@feyresqueen

@drasticemotions

[igotanidea]

Too hot to handle: Jason Todd x reader

SMUT MDNI!

As usual sorry for all the typos, grammar mistakes etc. I really had to post it XD

***

Y/N was fuming.

For no reason at all, falling down the internet hole, she found herself on some stupid forum for stupid horny women who couldn't keep it in their pants.

Clearly those bitches were getting hot and bothered for Red Hood, shamelessly sharing their dirty thoughts and comments on some parts of his body and the things he'd let him do if--

Fuck.

She could have Tim or Babs trace their IP addresses in a second and could pay them a visit of a very possessive, angered and super jealous girlfriend.

Her hands were almost itching to write a few spicy comments herself, spilling the beans of whose body Red Hood was touching almost every night. Whose lips he was devouring. Whose most sensitive parts he was tasting with his tongue, begging for as much as a drop of sweetness. Whose moans and gasps he got to hear, whose voice was his drug, whose curves he was worshiping on his knees.

Obviously, she couldn't do that, but the thought of Jason's muscled body on top of her, his hands tracing her skin and joining her in the intimate dance had a side effect seeping through her panties. 

She needed him. 

With the need that could not be satisfied with her fingers or even the toys she had stacked safely in the locked bottom drawer.

Jason ...

Come home...

Can't you sense how much I want you now...

She almost prayed to the moon on the sky to bring her lover back to her. 

***

That little tingling on his skin was something new and as much as he hated to put the thought into words, it was like a spider-sense. The one of Y/N’s second favorite self-appointed hero – spiderman.

Y/n…

Was that feeling because she was in danger?

Did someone hurt her? Did anyone dare lay a finger on his precious girl?

Jason gritted his teeth, clenching fists, anger at a purely potential enemy flooded his brain.

It was a quiet night either way, giving him a perfect opportunity to take a quick detour and check on his angel. Just a look and assurance that she was safe, to help him keep going and push him through all the shit and doubts.

Y/n….

***

He did not expect her to sit in front of Netflix at 2 am. She had work in the morning so why on earth was she watching the series?

“Hey!” he called, probably a little bit too loud, causing her to jump on the couch and almost drop the mug. “Sorry…”

“Next time give me a heads up, will you?” she muttered with a pout.

“Um- okay. What’s with the attitude?”

“Nothing.” Y/N scoffed angrily, turning back to the TV.

“Can I please get my girlfriend back? You know, the other one? Nice and caring? The one who would ask me if I’m hurt or maybe need patching or a post-patrol kiss?” Jason teased moving in front of the screen, successfully blocking it from her view. “Wait… Y/N, are you watching “Too hot to handle?" His laugh filled the room, because honestly that might have been the funniest thing in the whole week. His serious, a bit reserved, goody-two-shoes girl had her eyes on the show about horny singles.

“Shut up…”

“Oh, I will most definitely not shut up about it. Are you hinting at something, here? Cause you know, you don’t need a show like this if—” he switched a little, coming closer and leaning over her silhouette on the couch

“Shut up, Jason!”

“Whoa!” his hands raised in feigned surrender “someone’s feisty today, aren’t you?”

“I’m not feisty. I’m furious!”

“At what?”

“Girls!”

“Wait, what?” Jason frowned “I am confused.

“Girls! Women! The ones who are trying to bang and –”

“I thought you liked banging?” he sent her a knowing smirk

“Jason!”

 “Come on, sunshine, you cannot hide that blush.” He pointed out, brushing fingers over her reddened cheeks, raising her head so she had to look into his eyes “What’s gotten into you? Tell me the truth.”

“Stupid internet.”

“Mhm. Okay. Care to elaborate?”

“Did you know the girls are getting hot for the Red Hood on some stupid forum?”

“Nope. Did not. But… did it make you jealous?” he smirked, expecting her to deny and squirm in embarrassment that he accused her of such low feelings.

“Yeah…” Much to his surprise, she decided to be honest. It truly was a strange night. “Yeah, I was. Jealous and furious. Hence the “Too hot to handle” marathon.”

“Hm? Can’t see the correlation.”

“It’s so shallow and selfish and mean, but – the show is so silly and most possibly fabricated. I may, or may not have been trying to diminish women who are openly horny….?” Her voice became barely audible at the end, as if she was ashamed to admit her own .

“Oh, you silly little one.” Jason laughed, pulling her onto his lap and brushing hair out of her forehead. “You could have led with that.” His lips brushed over her forehead

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“You should have told me, that coming across girls leching over me-“

“Over Red Hood!” she interrupted and he only laughed again.

“Over me” he underlined  “- got your knickers in a twist.”

“It did not!”

Great, now she was trying to deny it. Too bad it was too late and he was in the mood for the games anymore. He felt the need to assure her that she was the one, though also expressing appreciation for said open horniness and for a little bit of jealousy. It made his ego soar.

“Didn’t it?” he teased, grabbing onto her waist and laying her on her back, hovering over her, moving fingers up her leg, until it reached the hem of her sleeping shorts. “Maybe I should check myself then?”

His hand brushed over the inside of her thigh, causing her to let out a sharp exhale.

“Oh, right… My little minx is not wearing panties at all. So it seems like you have been telling the truth after all. You did not get them in a twist…”

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her, a sudden sweet distraction allowing him to yank those silly little shorts down, exposing her want without any care in the world. Opening her legs and wrapping them on his waist, without breaking the kiss for even a second, Jason pressed his weight on her, distributing it evenly on his forearms, to not crash her.

“Mmm. Tease.”

“And you love every second of it.” He smirked, grinding against her core, sacrificing his favorite tactical pants to her warmth and wetness. Not much of an exorbitant price for what was waiting at the finish line.

And even though it was just the beginning of the marathon, they were already gasping heavily, grasping onto each other, pulling each other closer and closer. She was so needy and he loved it. The more bothered she was, the easier it got for him to end on the winner’s podium. His cock was hardening by a second, making it almost painful to be kept in the pants, but he was holding back.

“Jason…” she moaned, reaching down his torso, sneaking hand under the waistband.

“Not yet, baby.” All she got in return was her hands pinned above her head in a very vulnerable position, completely at his mercy. And to add to it all, Jason lips attached to her pulse point, sucking the sensitive skin, making sure to leave a dark purple hickey. The one she wouldn’t be able to cover easily. “Not yet…” the grip on her wrists faltered for a second, but not enough to allow her to break free.

Jason was skillful and knew exactly what he was doing.  Feeding her with the false hope of freedom only for a second, only to grab her hands in one hand, using the other to roll her sleeping shirt up, exposing her breasts, but not taking it off fully.

“Hello, lovelies…” he muttered, before diving between her tits, getting the arching back and multiple sounds of pleasure in return. “Yeah… keep those sounds coming, baby…”

His lips traced a scorching path down her cleavage, making her want skyrocket, smirking upon the feeling of her legs tightening on his waist and her hips grinding against her jeans.

“Not yet.” He commanded again, pressing her back flat onto the couch. “Not yet…” his eyes flashed with something primal and animalistic. There was something devilishly turning on with having her naked under him, while he didn’t shed a single piece of clothing. And he was going to exploit that opportunity to the maximum.

With a quiet laugh that sounded almost sinful, Jason bent down and traced tongue over the flesh of her soft, warm breast, purposefully avoiding the little pink button that was begging for his attention. Yes, his ego was skyrocketing upon hearing her cries of pleasure and broken gasps of his name on her swollen lips, followed by the flexing of her body against his touch.

Yes, he might have been acting a little dominant, but they both knew it was not going to go on forever. 

Deep inside Jason was sweet and romantic, definitely putting soft, tender lovemaking over hard and rough sex.

And really, it didn’t take him long to give in to her pleadings and entreaties, moving lips to her nipple, sucking and biting on it gently.

“Oh yes!” she cried out, closing her eyes and from that moment things started taking on the pace. Jason groaned from the sensation of her breast in his mouth, letting go of her wrists, allowing her hands to tangle in his hair, only adding to the feelings burning inside his chest and groin. Abandoning lavishing attention on her chest, he guided her hands to the hem of his shirt and with  interlaced fingers and eyes never faltering from each other’s face they pulled it over his head, exposing his toned upper body, covered with fresh bruises and cuts.

“So you are hurt…” she whispered, touching the pads of her fingers to the newest purple mark on his pec.

“I didn’t notice…” his voice was deep, calming and full of adoration “All I notice right now is you…” he grabbed her hand pressing it to his lips, kissing all over her knuckles.

“Then come feel me too…” she moved upwards, pressing her lips to his, wanting to feel that chapped warmth on hers. And once their mouths met it was a sensation incomparable with anything else. Ironically (or not) making out like this, with their entwined bodies, separated only by the material of his pants, slowly, tenderly, focused only on each other, leaving the whole world behind was turning her on more than actual penetration.

Which did not mean she didn’t want to go all the way.

“Is it time yet?” she whispered, with a little bit of teasing in her voice, breaking the kiss only for a second.

“You are ruining the moment, sunshine.” He chuckled, tracing kisses up her cheek, all the way to her ear, softly biting on her earlobe, causing more tickling than actual pain. Y/N responded with a little chuckle as well, cupping his cheek, bringing his lips back to hers once more. Without breaking the making out for even one second, Y/N removed his belt and undid the button on his pants. Then, with a few kicks and swings of legs, they managed to set him free from his confines, finally feeling each other from head to toe.

“How’s your jealousy doing now…?” he teased, guiding himself to her entrance, grabbing onto her waist, rolling his fingers in tiny circles on her sensitive skin.

“Who’s ruining the moment now?”

“No idea. Who?” he chuckled. It was so good being with her like this. In the moment of intimacy, that was meaningful but deprived of the seriousness that could ruin the tenderness. Perfect mix of softness and love, seasoned with a bit of well balanced humor and  sarcasm that bonded them in the first place. “You ready for me, baby?”

“So ready.” She smiled, shifting and squirming to allow him to slide inside better and maximize the pleasure of unity for them both.

“Mh. Hello there…” he smirked and without missing a bit started to move inside her. Slowly, but intensely. Building up and drawing the tension. Moving hands on her body in time with the thrusts, fueling the fire that was meant to warm but not burn. “Is this what you wanted?” he looked at her face searching for the answers behind those e/c eyes, filled with longing and devotion.  

“Yeah… Good thing you helped me realize what it was that I wanted…” she started matching his movements, kissing him again.

The tension between their bodies was building slowly and steadily. There was no rush. They had all the time in the world, that suddenly shrunk to only them two.

Jason and Y/n.

Y/n and Jason.

Together.

Connecting seamlessly, with bodies joined and heart beating only for one another. Creating their own bubble of beauty and wonder in the darkness and danger of Gotham.

“I love you…” he muttered, leaning forehead on hers, needing to say those words before everything turn into the blur and haze due to the slowly approaching tidal wave of climax.

“I love you…” she responded, feeling the exact same need, knowing well enough that those three little words exchanged before the post-bliss was far more meaningful and far more true.

***

“How’s the hate on horny women doing now?” he muttered against her hair, some time later. It could have been minutes as well as hours cause once they busted the pleasure door open time suddenly became relative and meaningless.

“Hm? What women? Wait a second. Are you really trying to tell me there are other women somewhere?’ she looked at him with a tease, raising an eyebrow playfully. “I am fairly convinced there are only you and me. No other men or women anywhere.”

“Hm… What I’m hearing is that I’m the only guy in the world for you?”

“It depends on—”

“Because sure as hell you are the only woman for me.” He added quickly, knowing what her condition was. “And no silly internet forum or contestant of so-called hot, naughty Netflix show could change it.”

“You got soft, Red Hood.” She smiled, nuzzling into his chest and placing a little kiss on his chest, close to his heart

“I can be hard when it counts, though.” His heart picked up the pace as her lips touched his skin “Honestly I can be anything you may need from me.”

“How about we both stay ourselves?”

“Works for me.”

Jason's arms wrapped around her pulling her to his chest for more and more aftercare and cuddles. It was a quiet night after all and he could indulge in some time with his beloved Y/N.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

crazy, baby

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, reader is mean and jealous, female receiving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex (but reader is on birth control), mentions of breeding, one use of daddy, curse words

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450

if anyone else spoke to rafe the way you speak to him, they'd probably never be seen again.

but you're not anyone else, you're rafes sweet girlfriend, at least he sees you as sweet, everyone else sees you as equally intimidating as rafe, if not more so because of the power you hold over him.

“rafe, bring me a water.” you call, not looking up from your phone. rafe stands up quickly, heading into the kitchen and bringing you back a water, but not just any water, a freshly cracked open evian bottle.

“here you go baby.” rafe hands you the water, and you don't even acknowledge him as you sip from it.

“do you want to go to a party soon?” rafe asks, and you sigh dramatically at being interrupted, even though all you're doing is scrolling.

“is kelces annoying new girlfriend going to be there? i hate that bitch.” you scowl.

“i told topper that if she's there, we're not there so she was not invited.” rafe says, running his hand through the hair that falls on the side of your face.

“okay, yeah, let's go then.” you shrug, getting up and walking away from rafe to get dressed. you sift through your dresses, trying to decide what to wear before you settle on a tight black dress.

you put it on along with your heels before finding rafe.

“you look so sexy, baby.” rafe groans, gripping your ass when you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing your lips together in a kiss. 

“i know, i look hot.” you smirk, rafe nodding in agreement.

“now let me go show my hot girlfriend off to everyone.” rafe says, making you roll your eyes, but a smile still slips through your cold exterior.

you listen to your favorite music in the car while rafe drives you. you complain to him about going so slow, causing him to rev the engine and increase his speed well over the limit as you howl with laughter.

“what do you want to drink, baby?” rafe asks as you enter the party, knowing he's tasked with keeping a cold drink in your hand throughout the whole night, not caring when he has to suddenly leave a conversation to get you a refill.

“mmm, just a white claw please.” you lean closer to rafe, as if you're going to whisper in his ear, but you don't lower your volume down, letting everyone hear your next words, “don't want to get that drunk so i can remember how hard you fuck me tonight.”

rafe cups your cheek, moving your lips to his as he takes them in a hard kiss. “you drive me fucking crazy baby girl.”

you grin, watching as rafe heads away to get your drink. you head further into the party, leaving rafe to find you as you greet a couple of your friends, stopping to talk to topper about the party.

“here you go baby.” rafe finds you amongst the crowd, handing you the white claw, already opened, knowing you don't like to use your nails on the pop tabs.

“rafe, don't you think this music is pretty shit?” you question to rafe, but topper understands it's directed to him and stands up to change the song, knowing how you get when you're annoyed and not wanting to face your wrath.

you nod in approval when the music is changed from rap to more hip hop, knowing it's better for dancing and gloating to rafe how immediately the switch has more people heading to the makeshift dance floor on toppers patio.

“you were right, baby, you're always right.” rafe hums in agreement, watching you finish off your white claw.

“im gonna go dance with my girls.” you tell rafe, giving him a kiss before heading off. rafe knows he doesn't have to give you permission or even worry about you, you truly don't have eyes for anyone else, all other guys piss you off except for rafe.

rafe smiles as he watches you leave, completely infatuated with you, only half listening to whatever topper is talking about.

you find the few girls that don't annoy you and hug them quickly before joining in their dancing, shoving one of their boyfriends away when he tries to dance up on his girlfriend. you have told her to break up with him so many times and wish she would finally just listen.

“do you know the girl rafe is talking to?” one of your friends ask, but you don't even look to see who uttered the words as your head snaps to look at rafe, still in the same spot you left him, but there's a new girl in your place, some bottle blonde that has your blood boiling. she's talking her head off while rafe stands there disinterested, holding another white claw for you when you're done dancing.

“what the fuck?” you growl, stomping through the crowd to rafe. you smack the drink out of his hand, letting it spill all over the floor.

“baby, what's wrong?” rafe questions, but you've already turned your attention to the girl.

“back off my boyfriend you whore.” you shout at her, rafe wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you from physically fighting her. “he would never go for an ugly slut like you anyways!” 

the girls eyes widen, rushing away from you and rafe as you turn to him in anger. “i walk away for a couple minutes and you start flirting with some other girl?” you shout.

“baby, she was just talking to me and i wasn't even listening. calm down.”

“rafe cameron don't you dare tell me to calm down!” you yell, but rafe simply ignores your outburst, leaning down to pick you up, throwing you over his shoulder. you shout and beat your fists against his back, but rafe keeps walking, heading upstairs as you groan.

“im mad at you, rafe.” you frown when he sets you down in one of the guest bedrooms.

“and im gonna make it up to you, baby. gonna fuck you, yeah?” rafe says, tugging the top of your dress down, revealing your tits to him.

“since you wanna be a brat, im gonna fuck all the attitude out of you.” rafe shrugs, hands gripping your chest, playing with your nipples.

“you think you can just fuck me to make up for almost cheating?” you complain, but reach to grip rafes cock.

“i didn't almost cheat, you know that. i would never. you're my girl, my perfect girl. i only want you.” rafe leans forward, kissing you before you can argue back. “i love you sweetheart.”

you moan against rafes lips, feeling him harden under your fingertips. “i love you too.” you pull at rafes shirt, and he disconnects your lips to take it off. “im sorry for being jealous.”

“it's okay. clearly i haven't been taking care of you enough for you to get all pent up.” rafe says, tugging at the waist of your dress, pulling it up to reveal your small panties.

“turn around.” rafe commands, and for once you listen to him, bending over the bed and placing your hands on the comforter to stabilize yourself.

“why would i ever want another girl after having your pretty pussy?” rafe sinks to his knees behind you, rubbing his hands over your bum, giving it a light smack before tugging your underwear down your legs.

“eat me.” you say, and rafe moves quickly to shove his head between your legs, tongue and mouth working quickly over your pussy.

“fuck, right there.” you groan when rafe flicks over your clit. you angle your hips to give him even better access, his hands gripping your shaking thighs to keep you stable.

“m-more.” you whine, grinding your cunt down onto his face. rafe drags his tongue back through your folds until he reaches your hole, his tongue pushing in as he thrusts it in and out.

you moan loudly, not caring if anyone passing by can hear you. it's not the first time you've hooked up at a party, or even a party at toppers house. everyone knows how crazy you two are for each other.

“give me your cock, rafe cameron.” you tell him, and rafe presses a kiss to your clit before standing up. you lean forwards, shaking your bum by swaying your hips side to side, enticing rafe as you hear him undoing his pants and dropping them to the ground.

you let out a whine when you feel his cock press against your entrance. he teases you there for a moment, making you wait, and just when you are about to shout for him to hurry it up, rafes hips push forward and he sinks his cock into you in one smooth motion.

“fuck!” rafe shouts, feeling your cunt squeezing him. he immediately starts to move, his cock hammering in and out of you as rafes large hands grip your hips. he pulls you back into him, but you don't even need the encouragement, rocking your body back and forth, moving in time with him.

the harsh slapping sound of your skin hitting each other each time echos around the room.

“fuck me faster, rafe.” you tell your boyfriend, who starts to buck his hips into yours, not fully pulling out before he pushes back in, wanting to stay buried deep inside of you as much as possible.

“like that.” you moan appreciateivly.

“my pretty girlfriend, moaning like a slut for me.” rafe smiles down at you, “so jealous just from seeing a girl stand near me, you're all mine. you love me so much.”

“i do love you rafe.” you say, his hands gripping your hips tighter at the declaration.

“and i love you more. fucking crazy about you, crazy about this pussy.”

“yeah?” you smirk. “gonna fill this pussy up?”

“of course baby, gonna put a baby in you, gonna make sure you can't leave me even when you threaten to.” rafe says, knowing two things: that you are on birth control and not actually able to get pregnant, and despite you often getting mad and saying you're going to leave him, that you are never going to.

“yes, daddy, fuck a baby into me.” you moan, reaching a hand down to rub at your clit, already pulsing from rafes talented mouth.

“i hope everyone hears you moaning for me. im yours, baby, im yours.” rafe moans, throwing his head back as he can't hold back any longer, his cum spurting into you, causing your orgasm to overtake your body as well.

you collapse forward into the bed, unable to keep yourself up as rafe moves with you, keeping himself buried in your pussy.

“are you calm now?” rafe asks, making sure to carefully pull out of you, watching as his cum drips onto the comforter.

“i am.” you hum, eyes fluttering closed with your cheek pressed against the mattress.

“want to go home and fuck some more or want to go back to the party?” rafe asks, getting himself redressed, handing you your underwear when you finally sit up.

“mmm, party for like half an hour so everyone can see how fucked out we both look than home for more.” you say, putting your panties back on and readjusting your dress, leaving the bed a mess for topper or more likely his family maid to take care of.

“you're crazy, baby.” rafe laughs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“and don't you forget it.”

[lynnlovesthestars]

Why?

Pairing: Astarion x Reader. Genre: Hurt/comfort, angst, fluff. Warnings: mentions of past abuse, self-harm, astarion is a little bitch that can't accept someone can take care of him, blood sucking, lots of pulling and letting go i guess?, messy emotions for messy people, self doubt and insecurities. Anxiety, panic attacks, nudity but not sexual. (if i missed something, please let me know. Summary: night is that moment when you can take care of yourself, but what if you find someone that needs more care than you? WC: 4.4k

Author notes: omg i finally finished this one, i've been working on it for a while now and initially it was supposed to be published before i started getting requests, which by the way im loving and im diligently working on<3, anyways this was a small challenge for me, i've been trying to work with stuff i wasn't entirely comfortable with to push my boundaries and learn something new, and this came out.. I hope you'll enjoy this read while I work on the next draft<3 love you lots!

When the moon finally made its way in the sky, and dinner had been consumed, you knew you finally had some time for yourself.

You’d take that time to scrub away the blood that stuck to your skin and the filth of the day. Traveling along a river had it’s pros: you found a nice spot along the bed of the Chionthar that seemed perfect for a bath. 

That night the place was particularly silent, the wind was blowing between the leaves and it was the only sound that you could hear until you passed that  funny rock shaped like a bear.

Initially you thought it was an animal, or at worse a beast, but as you delved closer rhe sound became much clearer. 

Heavy breathing.

It was a sound you could recognize everywhere, because it was a sound you’d make on those nights when anxiety would take over and you felt helpless. Since you went through all the hardships of your life, you promised yourself you’d do your best to help people in need, and in that moment there was definitely someone that needed help.

Your stomach was churning as you followed the shallow breaths that reverberated in the silence of the undergrowth. It led to a small clearing where the moonlight was free to enlight as much as possible of your surroundings. On the opposite side from where you came from, someone was coiled on himself, exposing their bleeding back your way.

The slender fingers clawed at their own flesh leaving deep marks, but it was the whimpering that helped you recognize the person in front of you.

Astarion.

Astarion that was completely naked, his nails were digging into his shoulders, and trembling like a beaten puppy. His clothes were scattered around the clearing, they were ripped in the haste of the panic, you assumed.

You rushed to his side, dropping your bag next to him as you crouched and cradled him to you.

“‘Starion” You whispered as you scanned him, from the way he hid his face, to the red streaks along his chest, the pale skin stained with tears and his glassy, raw eyes.

His whole body was a trembling mess as he couldn’t hold back tears. The slow wails were filling you with anguish as you tried to calm him down just enough so he could make out a few words.

“Who did this to you?” You whispered softly, as you slowly dried his cheeks. The question awoke something in him, he slipped out of your arms before you could object and he tried to sit up.

His arms were shaking as he rested his palms on the leaves-covered soil. “No one.” He turned his head away, his eyes subsequently diverting from yours. “It doesn’t matter anyway.” He breathed out as he tried to stop his eyes from getting more and more teary, yet failing at each attempt.

“Yes, it does.” You insisted, raising your palm and reaching for his cheek. Gently you guided his eyes back to you making sure he knew you cared. Making sure that he knew you only wanted to help him.

The pit in your stomach felt like a dark hole in you, swallowing everything with it. You’ve never seen him like this since you two met, not even when you learned his vampirism while he was starving. 

Even when you learned small bits of his past, like how he got turned, he always kept composure, though you knew he was hurting. Now instead he was so vulnerable.

You felt a pang of guilt hit you, you were invading his personal space and he probably wanted to run away, yet he was growing on you, and if there was something about you, it was that no one hurt the people you cared for. 

“Who did this to you?” You repeated still gently yet firm. You caressed his cheek with your thumb, taking your time to wipe away the remnants of his previous tears.

For a moment he hesitated, he wanted to hold back, but then his body gave out, almost slumping on yours. His eyes were duller, his lips were quivering, and he wasn’t sure he could ever form a full sentence properly, but you were there and you were trying to help him. No one ever tried to help him.

For so long he wished someone would waltz in and come to his rescue. He desperately wished someone would shake him awake from his worn coffin to drag him out of those filthy kennels. He wished someone would dry his tears and heal his wounds, yet for 200 years he suffered alone.

Instead you did much more than what he expected: you insisted, you didn’t recoil disgusted or gave up. You sat there trying over and over to patch him up, to find answers, and to find who hurt him so deeply that he’d end up bleeding alone in a forest.

You knew, of course, that he didn’t tell you his whole story when he opened up, it would have been foolish of him to do so since you were a stranger. He didn’t mention the scars that covered his back, or the constant nightmares during his reverie, cause of course elves couldn’t live without over analyzing things, or the true extent of his master’s punishment. You couldn’t have known yet.

His voice was shaky, broken, a whisper as he muttered Cazador’s name, afraid that even saying his name out loud would be too much, like that would make the monster materialize in front of him, but once he muttered his name, he couldn’t stop his words from being vomited out of his throat like sharing all of this with you was a new compulsion bestowed upon him.

“I was meditating when my brain decided to gift me an old memory” He sighed shakily. “And of course the memory was related to whatever is carved in my back. The pain was so vivid it felt like I was back there, hunched as that bastard was having the time of his life.” His voice was feeble, broken, it was so raw you were not sure how to react.

“When I woke up I was covered in blood and everything was hurting.” His eyes widened for a moment like he could rewatch those images over and over again, right there in front of you.

“My body was clearly not mine anymore, I was taken over by this fear that you’d all hate me for whatever this is, so I ran looking for a spot to hide.” He lowered his gaze.

“I guess before I could look around me, I sank on my knees. I felt like I was suffocating, Tav.” He was trusting you with something that he was running away from, something that terrorized him, something that you knew went opposite of his survival instinct. It was something that made him so fragile that he had to run away from a place that he should have considered safe, your camp.

Despite the gushing wounds he still ran, and yet he allowed you to get a piece of his mind, he didn’t kick you away like he’d usually do.

“My clothes were too much, the pain was too much, everything was too much. I'm not gonna lie. I literally ripped everything off before I could even process what I was going to do to myself. The only thing I knew was that the old scars were open again and they were gushing. I could feel it, Tav. I could feel the blood dripping down my fucking back.” His eyes were brimmed again with tears that he couldn’t hold back even if he tried, it was such a haunting feeling he wished he could erase the memory. “I couldn’t stop.”

He looked at his hands, his fingers were covered in blood and specs of his skin were hidden under his fingers. He was so disgusted at the sight that another sob quivered from his lips.

“You’re safe, nothing can hurt you now.” You leaned forward wiping his cheeks with your palms. 

The remorse in his eyes was vivid, he just had trauma dumped on you and he knew you were going to hate him for it, but then you said his name so gently, so caring, that he allowed you to caress him.

You gave him time to ragain as much control as he could muster before you helped him up. He did look in need of a bath undoubtedly, and you had to go to the river anyways, so you asked him if he wanted to join you. You offered to clean his wounds so he could avoid infections, though you weren’t so sure vampires could get infected like that.

You both took your time standing up, his head was pounding so hard that his balance faltered. Your arms were there for him before he could hit the ground.

How was it possible that whenever he'd be deep in shit, you saved the fucking day? Just that day you did it twice and he would have sworn he didn't deserve any of it.

“I’ve got you” You made sure your arms were anchored on him, steadying his movements, and taking the opportunity to ask him if you could clean his wounds. He wanted so bad to refuse but his body felt so heavy, and his eyes pleaded for help no matter how much he’d try to hide it. Astrarion couldn’t recall a single person that cared for him so tenderly.In the past 200 years all he got was beatings, starvation, indifference, it was all so foreign to him, so much that the words you told him bounced in his head incessantly for days. “I know you can handle it yourself, but it doesn’t mean you should have to do this on your own.” I know you can handle it yourself, but it doesn’t mean you should have to do this on your own.” 

It was like a second nature to you, you could read his eyes like no one ever did. 

Yyu guided him towards the river, in that secluded spot you liked. 

You settled down your bag on a stump, and along with it Astarion’s clothes. You decided you were going to clean those after you were done with your baths, and afterward if your fingers didn’t feel too sore, you’d work on fixing the tear along the back of his blouse.

You picked up the small bunch of bottles, and one of the small towels you usually carried around to clean your wounds. 

Astarion let go of your hand only when you picked up those things, and even in that brief instant, his legs could barely hold him up. It was like he was dragged back in the kennels, like he had not fed in goddamned ages, and he lost too much blood to even breathe.

You didn’t notice it until you turned towards him, his body was quivering like a leaf in the middle of a tornado. 

Despite the tremor and the blood, there was still something about him that leaked confidence, like the hurt that was encompassing him was not making him look smaller, or weaker. It was.. real. 

If you thought you saw through astarion when you first met him, this was the moment you realized you were wrong. When you were slammed in front of this raw sight, you knew.

This was the closest you could get to the real Astarion, and it hurt. You didn’t understand why it hurt so much, but it was much worse than any other pain you could recall. It was a feeling that was eating you from the inside cause you knew his wounds were much deeper than what he shared with you so far.

Nevertheless, you didn’t hesitate to throw the bottles closer to the water and pass to astarion the towel, then before he could even understand what was going on, you whisked him up in your arms. 

He wanted to complain- he wanted to rely only on himself-, but his body didn’t agree. It was like it was screaming at him, screaming to tell him that he needed help and that even for a moment, it would have been okay to let someone patch him up.

You sat him right at the edge of the river, where a log was already propped nicely so travelers could clean themselves without the risks of the flowing water, then without thinking too much about it, you stripped off your own clothes, discarding them quickly. You weren’t embarrassed, or rather, you were, but he exposed so much of himself already, that you felt safe to do it as well.

You joined him, sitting yourself in a spot that allowed you to slip in the water effortlessly, while still being close to Astarion. 

The towel was the trick: you dipped the cloth in the water just enough that you could wipe away the blood without soaking the skin, then you’d gently run it down Astarion’s body to wipe it all.

You worked one small patch at a time, starting with his right shoulder and working your way through his scarred body.

His back was towards you, exposing the carving, which you identified as infernal runes. You cleaned him slowly and with a softness you didn’t know you had in you. 

Everytime you’d move away to dip the cloth in the water, his body would soften, even if for a moment, before the towel grazed again on his scars, and he couldn’t help but flinch ever so slightly.

“I’ve got you” You whispered under your breath as you pressed the cloth on his neck, causing a long shudder to run through Astarion’s back.

He wasn’t sure what if was anymore: whether it was the towel still startling him or your words that seemed to mend him like tiny plasters putting his wounds back together. What you were doing for him.. it was nice. You soothed his skin, while whispering supportive words as you took care of him.

“I won’t let him hurt you again” You whispered while taking a moment to squeeze the blood off the towel, before resuming your slow descent. 

As you worked on another patch of the runes, you couldn’t help but stare at the way the moonlight shone on his skin, it was a sight that otherwise you would never see.

Your eyes took in all his form as you cleaned and cleaned, and you could feel your heart running an extra mile.

The slow passing of time started to affect him after a while, his back slowly hunched under the heavy weight of his thoughts, his breath hitched as you diligently traced his back. No one was ever allowed to touch his back before you. He could feel the tears swelling again under his eyes.

You were so concentrated on cleaning that you didn’t notice until he was almost curled up again, and you helped him up. 

You kept your arm around his waist so he couldn’t fall prone as you started working on the wounds on his chest, and that’s when his eyes met yours, the crimson was shining as the tears piled and piled on them, the moon only served the purpose of highlighting them.

Then when you scooted him closer to you and allowed his back to rest against your chest, he was a crying mess again.

This time his lips were moving before his brain could process his thoughts, for a moment you could see his sanity slip away hidden in the drops of his tears. 

“Why?” He pleaded. “Why? Why? Why?” His voice rose between choked sobs.

“Why now?” The more he would ask, the more his voice would raise, until it finally broke in a whisper again.  “Why didn’t you show up earlier? I could have been plucked from...” His words felt like a stab right through your chest.

"Shh" You whispered as you left the bloodied rag on his thigh, and you wrapped your other hand around his waist. 

"I might have not made it in time, but I promise you I'm not leaving your side now" You pulled him on your lap, leaving a soft kiss on his temple. You knew that if he was still alive, you’d feel his chest pound incessantly as everything became overwhelming, but the only sound you could perceive was the rushing of the water. In any other occasion you would have hated the closeness of your naked bodies, you would have been weary of such intimacy, yet it felt different. It felt right.

“Why? Why are you doing this?” He asked when his breath finally set down again, and the only memory of it was the long streaks of tears still sulking his skin. 

“Cause you don't deserve this” You still held him close as you lowered your voice, making sure the sound of the water could shield you both if you needed it, like a bubble around you.

“Liar” His tone matched yours, but with much more spite. “I've done awful things” He shook his head, it was something that heavily plagued him, he’d often have flashes of some of the horrible things he did, and that moment was one of them: he could hear the echo of the screams of the poor victims he’d bring back to Cazador.

“That doesn’t mean you deserved torture.” You cooed. “You didn’t have a choice.” You traced small soothing circled on his hip as you still held him close.

He sighed deeply, he knew you were right as much as he wanted to say that he could have ran away. The memory of the darling boy and the consequence of his action were a fierce reminder of it, everyday of his life.

“You are a fool.” He sneered. “I have stabbed in the back everyone I got close to, and you are still doing…” He pointed at the two of you, at the position you are sharing, at the rag on his thigh, at your arms around him, and the words you just told him. “This.”

“I like taking risks.” You chuckled softly.

“This is not a risk, you are doomed to fail and you are a dimwit” He rolled his eyes, evidently it was obvious for him, unlike you that still believed fairytales.

“Am I?” You didn’t falter, in that moment you felt confident in your choice.

“Are you forgetting the knife I held at your throat darling? What makes you think I wouldn’t do it again?” He retorted trying to make you waver, it was his survival mechanism at the end of the day. If he was able to slither in just enough doubt, he wouldn't’-

Your words caught his attention again right away, as you started counting on your fingers. 

“The fact that we’ve been traveling together for 3 weeks, that I let you feed off me several times and you have not sucked me dry, the fact that you told me about your past, and that you allowed me to just wipe away blood from your back.” You stopped for a moment, building up tension and to perceive what went through his mind in that moment. “..and the fact that you are literally crying in my lap.” You finished.

“Okay what if i'm just manipulating you? How would you tell?” What was the game he was playing? 

“I don’t think that what i witnessed tonight could be faked, ‘Starion” You finally sighed, relaxing your shoulders. You didn’t even feel your body tense up, that’s how much you were absorbed by this conversation between you two, cause it was so confusing.

He didn’t answer anymore at your last remark, he just allowed you to finish your work diligently as he was lost in thought again. 

You made sure his wounds were clean before leaving the rest of his body up to him, and then you finally took your time to properly clean yourself as well as your clothes. 

Drying your skin was by far the hardest step since you carried only one big towel with you: you opted to pat your bodies dry before slipping in your clean clothes, then you’d give him the towel to cover himself, since his clothes were in heavy need of repair.

The walk back to camp was fairly silent, since Astarion was still affected by the blood loss and you were lost in your thoughts.

You left your wet clothes next to the fire where they could dry while you’d rest, and then you started to walk back to your tent.

When you were just a few steps away from your little nook, you remembered.

Instead of sneaking directly into your tent, you made a beeline towards Astarion’s. He was still outside, sorting a few empty containers he had around, while his frustration was palpable in the air.

“‘Starion” You called quietly, avoiding to wake up everyone else.

“What? Are you here to give me your pity?” He scoffed as he was still fixated on the conversation you just had.

“Actually, I was wondering if you needed to be fed.”Your voice betrayed your worry which was loud and clear. “Earlier I noticed you were struggling, and your eyes are.. dulled” You explained, you wanted to pat his shoulder but you stopped just a moment before you touched him.

“So? Are you going to make fun of me if I am?” His walls were back up, the vulnerable elf you saw earlier rushed away behind this mask he carefully handpicked to push you away.

“No, you can feed off me though” You suggested encouraging. “If you want of course, take 

your time, I’ll be in my tent” The last thing you hear was a muffled ‘thanks’ as you made your way to your tent again.

Astarion finally made up his mind, he strode quickly toward your canopy. “Darling?” He brought your attention to him. Your tent’s entrance was wide open, offering zero privacy to you as you were nose deep in some tome.

“Hey, come in.” You smiled, you were glad he was no longer avoiding you. “Can you please unhook the flap?” You asked while you moved the book away from the two of you. “I don’t wanna make you feel too exposed” You clarified.

“I appreciate it, but are you sure you want me to feed off you? I mean I know it’s not the first time, but it’s-” He hesitated, sure he wanted you to stay away, but at the same time that thought made him flinch away, like he should have felt differently.

“Yeah I’m sure” The apple of your cheeks warmed up at the nervousness, especially when you noticed he was fidgeting with his fingers. “You lost so much blood and the shock.. you definitely need to get your fill” 

“Thanks” He avoided your eyes before sitting next to you.

On the other hand you took your time readjusting your little reading corner, making sure it would comfortably hold both of you. 

“Just relax, I’ll take care of everything” He finally gave you the closest thing to a smile after a whole evening of tears. His arms wrapped around your middle as he helped you to lay with him. His touch was impossibly gentle: he moved away your hair and tilted your head to expose your neck, but he didn’t bite right away.

His teeth grazed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as he held you to him, just like earlier you held him to you. He traveled down your neck with his lips, looking closely for your pulse, or so you assumed, then when he found a nice spot, he sunk his teeth in your flesh. Your body tensed for just one moment as you could feel his lips press around the wound, and your blood slowly leaking out.

Then you became putty in his hands, the dizzying sensation rocked you sweetly as you let it take over you.

He was slow, tender. 

He held your head gently and pulled you impossibly close, almost as he wanted to fuse your bodies.. His legs naturally tangled with yours while he sucked and sucked on your skin like his life depended on it.

It took everything of you to repress the whimpers that would build up in your throat, it was different from all the other times he drank from you: in the past you’d just be very tense, but in that moment you felt like air was directly pulled out of your lungs, like your body was being set on fire. 

He wasn’t in any different condition, he was barely  repressing the moans as your warm blood rushed against his tongue, and his breath was hardly regular. 

Even your blood tasted different, sweeter than before taking over all his senses. It was madness, it was like your blood suddenly turned into a drug he couldn’t resist, making his head spin.

He stopped only when he noticed you were starting to slump in his arms, a sign that you were getting too close to a no-going-back point.

He took time to lap away the blood that was still leaking from the pinpricks, sending jolts down your limbs, and stealing a sweet mewl from your lips. He didn’t concentrate on the sound he coaxed off your lips, cause he knew that if he did he’d probably spiral into insanity, so he focused on the wound he had inflicted, leaving a few kisses right where the pricks of his teeth made home, before reaching for your blanket and covering you with it. 

He didn’t let go of you, or move at all for what it mattered, he had to internalize all those feelings that were overwhelming him before he could walk out. He knew that if he didn’t stop there until he was back in himself, he would have felt dizzy as well, and he wasn’t fond of the idea of passing out on the floor.

Was he blood drunk? Whatever feeling was cursing through his body, he wasn’t sure he could identify it, but moving was not an option anymore when he noticed you were still nudged in his embrace. He tried to sneak away, but you were cradled on him, ‘peace’ crossed his mind before it got swept away by something you’d mumble, he had to wait for a bit to catch what you said since you murmured something he couldn’t quite comprehend, until your voice became clearer.

“I wish I could have saved you sooner” You murmured under your breath. “Stay, i’ll protect you.” Your arms around his waist pulled him closer to you, slotting your bodies together like pieces of a puzzle. Your warmth, your sweet flowery smell, your surprisingly gentle snore slowly lulled him in, closer and closer until he felt safe, and quietude took over him.

[aakeysmash]

Roommate or boss?

Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.

Warnings: a lot of yapping. Male masturbation. A bit of violence from Katsuki’s part when a guy tries getting in your pants.

Word count: this part is 2.4k, added to the others (part 1, part 2, part 3) it’s 8.9k.

Next part: part 5

"It's too hot" you mewl while lying on your couch. “Step back, it’s my turn to be in front of the fan” you add, getting up and walking towards Katsuki.

“Fuck no, it’s been 3 minutes since you had a go at it. Go back to the hell hole you came from, pest” your roommate answers while throwing daggers at you.

You poke your finger in his exposed bicep. He doesn’t budge. Damn, this man is hard as a rock.

“Come onnnnn! This is the time when you should be a gentleman and let me cool down my beautiful face. Do you really want to be such a brute, Mr. Bakugou?” you bat your eyelashes seductively, trying to convince him.

Bakugou stares at you like your face is green and you’re a slimy frog that just came out of a pile of mud.

“I don’t fucking care. You’re a big girl and I ain’t no prince charming. Step the fuck back or I’m throwing you on that damn sofa. Wait your shitty turn” he says, flicking your forehead.

You whine some more, whisper “bitch” (it gets you another flick) and then turn back to lay on the floor. It’s colder than the couch, at least.

It’s summer, there’s 41°C outside, and your AC broke the other day. It’s so hot that you take out the ice from the freezer and it melts in 4 minutes (max). You happened to have one old crusty fan, that you and Bakugou take turns using. You have been surviving on iced coffee and iced lemonades. You feel like you’re slowly dying.

“You know, this is the only time I really wish my boss would call me in early. He might be a ghost, but he sure uses money for the AC” you blabber while staring at the ceiling, contemplating booking a trip to Alaska.

“What do you mean a ghost?” the blond asks. He’s been much more talkative in the last few months, maybe because seeing you being so domestic was doing something to him. In the last few days he really wants to be your friend, but not because he’s suddenly nice: he thinks he could bribe you to gift him the fan if he’s kinder and breaks your defenses. He’s even planning on asking you to go to a cafe nearby and offer you one of those sweet fuzzy iced drinks you like so much. He’s scheming.

“A ghost because I’ve never seen his face. Can you believe that? My colleague says he’s an asshole though, so maybe that’s for the better” you answer. You get on your elbows to see him better, then squint and frown, “I feel like you could be my boss, you know. Seeing as you’re an asshole too, making me die here on the floor like a common drug addict”.

Yeah, screw the fan. He was asking you out to kill you.

“I hope he fires you”.

“Fuck you”.

“Likewise”.

You throw yourself back on the floor. The movement makes your boobs giggle, and he catches himself staring at your white tank top. You didn’t wear a bra since it’s indeed still your house and it’s indeed still hot as hell.

Things have been going so much better between you two. You now bicker like you’re siblings, but you do also take walks together sometimes, mainly to get groceries, and talk about stuff. You even convinced him to watch Keeping up with the Kardashians with you, and even if he doesn’t want to admit it, he likes the drama more than you.

At work you have a new manager and she’s super nice. Her name is Mina, and you found out that she and Kirishima are engaged, even if they’re 22 like you. She’s a great worker, and you’ve gone out for drinks a couple of times with her and Momo. She’s been at the cafe for 2 months, but you feel so much better already. She throws you weird looks sometimes, like she knows something you don’t, but you pay it no mind.

The timer on your phone rings, and you jump up before throwing your whole body on Katsuki’s. He’s distracted and you get him off guard, managing to move him away. He notices your tits touching his arm.

“Hah! My turn!” you say triumphantly, positioning yourself in front of the fan. The cold air makes your nipples harden. He seems to not be able to look away.

“Awh, Katsuki, cat got your tongue? Don’t worry, baby, the floor is not that bad” you snicker.

He snaps out of his trance and looks at your smirk. Baby? Did you just call him baby?

Fuck, what is he doing? The heat is getting to him. He hastily turns around and starts walking.

“Fuck off, I’m getting in the shower. You can have your fucking fan until I get out” he grunts while almost running away. He needs to have a cold shower.

“We’ll see!” you smile devilishly at him, not having noticed how he’s furiously blushing while slamming the bathroom door.

Katsuki puts his back on the door and slides to the floor. He rubs his face before staring at the obvious tent his semi is causing in his shorts.

Have you always been so hot?

He gets out of his clothes and jumps in the shower, hoping this feeling will go away once the scorching temperature of his skin gets back to normal. But after a few minutes the icy water does nothing to quell his desire, his fully standing cock a statement to that.

He curses under his breath, then wraps one of his hands on his shaft. He feels so dirty doing this, and the fact you’re one door away makes him feel even more embarrassed.

“Let’s get this fucking over with, fuck” he says to himself, pumping his member slowly.

He imagines the way your hand would feel instead of his, or your big eyes staring up at him like you did before, just that in this case you were forcing yourself not to cry while choking on his cock. His hand would be in your hair instead of on his dick, pushing your mouth snugly against his pubes. Your mouth would be hotter than the sun outside and he'd give you a reason to sweat. If you pleaded hard enough he'd fuck you too. He’d really throw you on the sofa, ripping your damn white top and sucking on your nipples. Fuck, what if you pierced them? Your tits would look so good covered in his-

He cums, grunting. "Fuck, this is the most embarrassing shit I've ever had to do to cum" he adds, whispering to himself.

He makes sure to scrub the shower wall clean before putting on the pair of grey short sweatpants he was wearing before. He decides on not to put his black compression tee on, since it’s drenched in sweat.

He exits the bathroom and finds you lying on the couch with the fan blowing directly on your face. Your eyes are closed, and the peaceful expression you're wearing makes his dick throb again.

"Oi, wanna go out? We're short on ice" he finds himself saying.

You open one eye, but when you realize he's half naked you hastily close it and throw him the pillow you were resting your head on.

"When has this become a whore house?" you scream.

He rolls his eyes. "You're such a prude. It's not like you've never seen a man naked" he scoffs, while throwing the pillow back at you.

You open your eyes again and glare at him. You know you must be as red as a tomato.

He looks so good with his hair still dripping wet. You've known that he works out, but now that you see his torso this close and with so little covering his whole body, you find yourself feeling shy. There's a particular drop of water that cascades just in the middle of his pecs, and you follow it with your eyes until it reaches his belly button.

"Earth to y/n. I know I'm hot, but stop ogling and answer my fucking question" your roommate says smirking, snapping his fingers in front of your face.

You throw the same pillow you threw before right on his smiling face. "I'm coming if you're not gonna be naked!" you say, hastily going towards your room.

"But wouldn't you like it, baby?" he mocks the tone you've used with him just 30 minutes ago.

"Fuck you. I'll be there in 10" you respond, slamming your bedroom door, feeling hot and bothered.

It must be the summer.

You and Katsuki go to a store nearby to get ice.

“When is the landlord gonna repair the AC?” you ask, since he was the one to make the call.

“He said he’ll come next week, probably even the next one. Said he’s on vacay or some shit” he grunts from next to you.

“I can’t survive 2 weeks like this” you whine. “Oh, you know those noodles you did the other day? The spicy ones? Want to make them for dinner today?” you change the topic, looking up at him.

He spares you a glance before smirking and saying “you just said you’re dying, you sure you wanna eat spicy things?”.

“It doesn’t matter, that’s not the question” you say, pouting.

He smirks again. “Sure. Go and take the noodles, I’ll get the vegetables. Call me when you’re finished if you can’t come back here, I know you get lost like a dumbass”.

You slap his arm. “I do not! This place is just big, asshole”. Then you turn around and march straight towards… the wrong aisle. Katsuki shakes his head. You’ll find a way. You always do, somehow.

After 10 minutes you’re still not back and you still haven’t called, so he sighs and gets his phone out.

He missed your texts from 3 minutes ago.

Y/N: Help

Y/N: I feel like a guy is following me

Y/N: I’m next to some spicy sauces, I guess

Y/N: Mom come pick me up, I’m scared

He raises an eyebrow. You’re usually too prideful to text him when you don’t find the ingredients he tells you to search for, so this situation is weird. He tries to remember where the spicy sauces are, and goes for that aisle.

Meanwhile, you were right and a creepy guy was indeed following you. He’s slim, not that tall and looks like a predator. For the past couple of minutes he’s obviously been trying to get in your pants, and you don’t know how to remove yourself from the situation.

“Come on, just give me your number. You got a boyfriend? Is this why you’re being so… spicy?” he says with a low tone of voice, walking towards you and effectively blocking you from the eyes of the people who are walking down your aisle. From outside, he just seems like he’s talking to you.

“I said I’m not interested” you repeat for what feels like the 10th time. Then you decide to lie: “and yes, I do have a boyfriend. He gets crazy when he’s jealous, I wouldn’t want to anger him if I were you”. You hope you sound confident enough.

“Awh he doesn’t have to now, baby girl. It can be our dirty little secret… I love spicy little things like you” he says seductively, touching your arm and licking his lips.

You’re just about to raise your elbow high enough to break his nose when you feel a familiar voice behind you.

“Step the fuck back before I break your fucking hand” Katsuki says to the man in front of you.

You snap your gaze to his eyes, but he’s looking at the guy with a murderous intent.

The slimy guy in front of you doesn’t let go, in fact he just strengthens the hold he has on your arm and you wince. Katsuki notices this.

The guy is definitely intimidated, but still manages to say “mind your business bro, we’re together, this is my bitch-“. But before he can finish the sentence he finds himself crashing on the sauces of the aisle.

“I said step the fuck back. I don’t like to repeat myself. Don’t ever call my girlfriend your bitch again, or next time I’m breaking your damn nose“ your roommate says while putting a hand on your small back.

He then looks down at you, and while he’s looking deep into your eyes, tells you “you good, baby?”.

You nod. You feel your knees shaking, but not because of the guy who’s currently on the floor.

Which, by the way, is now scoffing and declaring “oh so this is your crazy boyfriend? Nobody likes good guys anymore, huh”. He then stands up, adding “you were never pretty enough for me, anyway”.

Katsuki looks at him and suddenly he laughs. “You’re a pathetic ass bitch if you really believe someone like you could ever be near someone like her. You’re not a good guy, you’re an awful piece of shit who only tries to get his dick wet by forcing girls to have sex with him, and you’re obviously failing at that too. Go back to your room and rub one out on some shitty porn like you always do, fucker” he spits out. “You have 5 seconds to get out of my fucking face”.

The asshole thinks he’s joking, so he doesn’t move from his spot, but Katsuki is obviously not playing. He looks super scary, and he’s towering over the pathetic boy.

Katsuki is losing his patience. “5, 4, 3…”.

The guy gets that he’s serious and flees the scene, running with his tail between his legs.

Your roommate takes a big breath before mumbling “I hate people”. You snicker, before looking up at him. “Thank you, you know” you say smiling.

Your gratefulness blinds him, or maybe it’s just that you’re that pretty.

“You’re welcome”.

He doesn’t remove his hand from your back for the rest of your walk, and it feels so natural to be so close to him that you don’t say anything.

A/N: If you want to be put in the taglist make sure your age is visible on your blog first, and then tell me so in the comments <3

[24kvlaks]

My favorite futile being.

Featuring- fallen angel X reader! :)

—

He hated humans, and he hated how much his father loved them. He was there first, he was created first just for them to come and take glory.

He fell from heaven, casted away. From the top to the bottom.

Stuck here with earth scum.

More powerful than all, he decided to wreak havoc.

The world covered in flames, buildings burned returning to ash. The screams of mortals, the begging of families, cries of children.

He didn’t care, he was an angel, turned monster.

An entity.

He smiled through the chaos, watching all his father creations burn bit by bit. Other angels came to stop him only to be defeated.

He was the new God, and he needed no prophets.

His right hand in the air and with a swift wave the flames grew hotter.

The more time flew by, the more chaos grew.

People would sacrifice others as an offering, futile but amusing. Watching the young woman cry and beg for mercy as they threw them outside tied in rope.

He found it so odd, his father created such ugly creatures.

He came to where they dropped the woman, and either ignored them and left them to starve.

But this was different.

There you lay, tear stained cheeks and rope burns covering your wrist. Such a mess, a beautiful mess.

Was this his father trying to trick him?

“Say your name woman.”

His voice was deep, scary, and unnatural.

You cried it out, it came out slurred from all the sobs and all that laid on his face was a sickening frown.

Was he not pleased with you? Was he going to destroy you like he did the others.

The ropes flew off of you like a blanket, you gasped relieved from the pain.

“So tell me, do you believe in God?”

He asked you, his head tilting in awe. He was huge, as tall as the skyscrapers.

“Aren’t you god?”

You asked, he laughed in your face.

“God? You think this is the power of God?”

He asked, you hummed in response.

“No, I am not.”’

You tilted your little head, in confused than what exactly was he?

“What are you?”

He cut you off.

“An angel.”

You gasped, God wouldn’t create such a monster would he?

The beast picked you up in his palm and rotated you in it, as if taking you in.

He pet your hair with his thumb, lightly. He didn’t want to accidentally break you.

His face was covered in gold rings, eyes full of honey and a look like fire. Tan skin, and pointy ears. Wings sticking from each side of his head, and six broken wings on his back.

His hair was a gold, as if slowly the color was fading out.

“You smell like a sinner.”

He sniffed you, a mug on his face. He could smell everything, your cunt, your natural smell, you. You turned around in shame but he was quick to turn you back around.

“You dare turn your back on me?”

You quivered in his hands, shaking and nervous.

“Need not to be afraid, I will not harm you.”

You let out a sigh of relief, Angels couldn’t lie could they?

His presence was soft, but his actions were scary. He eyed you, his mind pondering with thoughts, he was reading you.

“What do you wish?”

He coed into your ears.

“To be free.”

He growled at your response, scoffing at the word freedom.

“Then be free.”

He let you slide off of his palm steadily stepping on the ground.

“The world too.”

He laughed, loudly. You’d be surprise of the whole world didn’t hear him. You rolled your eyes at his arrogance before he grabbed your chin.

“Do it again, and I’ll burn them out of your sockets.”

You gulped, and he smirked.

“As you wish.”

He responded. And the flames blew out, you could hear people rejoice from the villages around you.

“But who started this, sacrifice ordeal? They must atone.”

His face was deep and dark. You outreached your arms and he put you back into his palm. You lead him through the village and pointed him to the man who started it.

“What shall we do?”

He asked you, a soft smile on his face.

“Kill him.”

You spoke, but you didn’t. He had took control of your body and made you say it, that son of a bitch.

But in seconds blood was everywhere, and the man’s head was off.

“You’re welcome, mortal.”

He didn’t put you down, instead he took you with him as he flew onto a cloud. You knew you were stuck, he’d be with you forever.

And already, you were already growing to love it.

[ghostaholics]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐒

➸ PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader (established relationship) ➸ WARNING(S): [ 18+ ] body shots; oral (receiving); ruined orgasm; basically PWP with slight BDSM (disciplinary action) ➸ SUMMARY: Simon teaches you a very important lesson about holding still – extended version of this. ➸ A/N: Thank you to @mvtthewmurdvck who lets me bitch about anything and everything including this and offered kind words when I certainly lost faith in the whole thing. ➸ WORD COUNT: 2.2k

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐎𝐍, 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍’𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄. Pilfered from his not-so-secret stash and running low with about a quarter left; the contents slosh around in their bottle-shaped confinement as he stalks into the room with a heavy hand swallowing around the widest circumference of the glass.

Good memories, usually. Like the first time he’d brandished his titanium pocket flask for you to take a sip. You’d scrunched your nose, feigning disapproval of the drink. And he'd said – cheeky as always – with a low-timbered response:

"Don't worry. The taste of your cunt's still my favourite."

But now, there’s no trace of that Simon anywhere to be seen. His face is entirely devoid of the amusement he already so rarely expressed. Stone-rigid. Unimpressed. Disappointed – seems like – and certainly not in the mood for any games.

❝ 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐇? ❞

It's a red-hot brand searing the edges of your memory (charred, ash-coated, lined by the cinders of a poor attempt on your part that had gone up into flickering embers).

See, the brain remembers it well.

Your cunt, too: the walls hugging his cock, full of his cum – excessively so, nearly bursting with it after he'd buried himself to the hilt and stayed inside just to plug your snug little hole, ensuring that none of it would dribble out after he’d fucked you senseless. He’d given you plenty, more than enough. And it’d been generous of Simon. A gift, really, considering the enormity of the initial request.

Make me yours?

He’d only had one thing to say, just a simple favour in return for doing this, for indulging you. His voice had been hoarse, sandpaper-rough from overuse – your fault entirely – eroded away after being subjected to a whole night's worth of groaning against the shell of your ear and telling you just how fucking good you felt before you'd milked him for everything he was worth with your greedy, pulsing self.

Keep it all in then.

You’d done your best not to clench, but stretched taut around the girth of his cock like that, you'd just wanted to readjust. Not a lot. But the position you'd been in wasn't the most conducive one for this. And you’d shifted – barely, practically inconsequential (or so you’d thought) – to where you wouldn’t have even thought it’d matter except—

It had.

Pushed some of it out, that is. A stream of cum trickling down onto an area of the duvet, staining it – the unfortunate aftermath of your decision to move.

Thas’ a shame. Thought you wanted it. Guess I was wrong.

Simon comes to a stop at the foot of the bed where you're sitting; he towers over you – an intimidating, subduing presence without even having to try. "Had to wash the sheets because you couldn't keep it all in.”

You blink in surprise as your mouth parts slightly in what you're sure must be a dumbfounded expression. Of course, this is nothing new. You were there. Responsible for the incident, apparently. And though it wasn't necessarily your fault, you still feel the need to explain that it was due to factors beyond your control. “There was so much—” (As if it'll help your case.)

But he's never cared much for excuses.

“How ‘m I supposed to finish inside you knowing that you’re just going to waste it?” he asks. It's a rhetorical question, not one that actually requires an answer.

Your chin tips down in a silent apology. There's something heavy sitting in your chest; remorse, you think.

He grips your jaw in his hand, forces you to look at him. “Yeah, love. We’ll fix that. Gonna teach you how to be grateful, how to understand the value in the things I give to you."

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒.

He makes you tell him your colors.

You do.

He asks if you know what you’re supposed to get out of this.

You answer that he’s probably going to have to wash the sheets again before you can learn whatever lesson he’s trying to impose on you.

Yeah, that earns you a sharp pinch to the hip.

That massive body of his sinks to the floor, one leg bending down before the other joins it, rough carpet cutting into his knees, undoubtedly. Then, his fingers curl around your legs, blunt digits sinking in – ten identical divots pressed into the flesh. He leaves light indentations with his palms spanning along the sides of your thighs to spread you open while his elbows anchor into the mattress.

Heat blooms across your skin, every surface that he touches and even in the places that he doesn't – white-hot, intentional (and he never does anything without purpose); it sparks a fever that fans out, unfurls. There's no part of you left unaffected. You're growing warmer by a few degrees. Doesn't sound like much, but it's enough to make a noticeable difference if the beads of sweat gathering at the back of your neck are any indication.

And Simon lets out a soft scoff. Cocky. Like he knew what was waiting for him—

You're soaked, absolutely drenched. Cotton panties, sticky –saturated beyond belief. If you looked there yourself, you wouldn't be surprised to find a damp patch on the fabric steadily growing in size.

He's such a sight, too: the contour of his muscles shifting and rippling, all brawn and power – his presence speaking volumes about just who holds the cards right now, undeniably the one in control here; the visual of his stature and build emphasize that. And authority bleeding from the width of his shoulders if not spelled out by his words alone.

"Haven't even touched you, and you're already dripping," he murmurs. "Why?"

Your mouth trips and stutters over your own words the same way your heart trips and stutters over his. "Because you—y-you're..."

His thumbs hook into your panties, slowly peels them away – not an easy feat, damn things are clinging to your cunt – before dragging them down your legs. "Say it, sweetheart. What do you think I'm gonna do to you?"

And your mind is racing, jumping too many steps ahead. "You're going to eat me out?"

Simon stuffs his panties in his back pocket for safekeeping. A souvenir, since there won't be much use for them now. "I'm gonna eat you out," he affirms.

"Mhm, yeah. Want your mouth on me."

"Whether or not you come depends entirely on if I feel like letting you."

"Oh—"

"Spill a single drop, and you don't come tonight," he says, never one to draw out the details. His instructions are concise, uncomplicated. Then, further inquiry. "We clear?"

"Yeah..." you say with a shaky breath before trying to regain some semblance of composure. "Yes."

"Good girl," he purrs low, almost a growl – though you're not quite certain that you deserve the praise yet.

He’s answering to a shrine, beckoned forward by the invitation of a wet cunt and the promise of a taste of your slick. He pauses, takes a brief moment to admire it in his own way, almost reverent as he takes in how your arousal’s smeared everywhere from your folds to your inner thighs (all for him, because of him – isn’t that right?).

But make no mistake, there’s absolutely nothing respectful about the act that comes next. Simon leans, forces his shoulders to hold you open, before he bows his head and he licks; it’s a hungry tongue lapping at the slit, everything terribly hot and wet – the sensation makes you jolt upon first contact because it's too much. So, so much.

And at the same time, not enough.

The feeling spikes along the circuit running from your head to your toes – empty thoughts save for the white static that buzzes in the hollow of your skull, a tingling, prickling paresthesia-sort-of-thing that usually accompanies the high of an orgasm. Except, the irony’s not lost on you in this instance; he’s hardly even begun to wreak havoc on your cunt yet.

Currents zip down your spine, down, further down, everything else collateral damage. No part of you is spared by the overwhelming fervor responsible for it – the initial onslaught of his mouth laying waste at the spread of your entrance.

Every single nerve-ending is on-edge, trigger-sensitive as he sucks, and kisses, and fuck are his groans heavy, bone-deep, the rumble of a thunderstorm gathering in his chest. They radiate from the point of origin where your core’s suffering, reverberating tremors that diffuse out to the rest of you. It makes your skin thrum like a live wire. There’s no hope of staying in a fixed position if he keeps this up. How could you? The odds are zero to none. It isn’t feasible.

You forget your place, can't help but squirm within his iron grip.

Then, Simon; a severe reprimand— "Watch it," he rasps. It’s a lull amidst the incursion, an unplanned interlude. Temporary reprieve (barely) so he can scold you for your inability to follow his instructions.

A low whimper leaves your throat. That's completely out of the question, beyond what you're currently capable of. Easier said than done. "I'm trying—"

"Then try harder."

Despite how weighed down your eyelids feel, you manage to guide your laden gaze south, let it roam over your stomach. The dark, amber liquid in your navel sways; it rocks, sloshes with the tide, a consequence born from the pull and heave of your jarring movements. Exercise caution. This is delicate work – a balancing act. Those thoughts are cloudy.

Your mind is fuzzy, thick, a drunken haze. Buzzed, lightheaded. And everything's off-kilter. But you haven't had a single drop of alcohol. None at all. Couldn’t, because everything's still sitting in your navel right there like it’s supposed to.

Simon dips his head back between your legs, continues to seal his mouth over you, flattening his tongue to lick thick stripes from your entrance to your clit. He doesn't let up, only bringing his face closer, following that same path again and again and again – agonizing – until you're trembling. The noises he’s making, something debauched and bottomless – one wet groan after the other. This isn't for you. It's for him, that much is clear.

You plead anyways, hoping he'll grant you an amnesty that you haven't earned in the least bit, "Need you inside. Anything, just—"

"Sure you can handle it?"

Breathless when you say, "Ah, yeah..."

"We'll see about that," Simon murmurs.

He doesn't believe you.

To be fair, you’re not so sure you do either.

But he's courteous, slips one finger in and lets you clamp around him. And your cunt flutters, welcomes the feeling.

You release a soft moan. “Want more, Si. Feels good."

His face turns to the side, wet nose and chin grazing along your thigh to spread the slick in more places that haven't been drenched yet. Then he bites. Gentle. An admonishment. Nothing serious about it though: scraping, the light pressure of teeth sinking into the skin as he pulls with his mouth.

You jerk suddenly before catching yourself.

"Don't be fuckin' greedy. You'll take what I give you, and you'll thank me for it." He's curt, perfunctory. No delay as he offers up his two fingers to your mouth. The expectation is clear. “Suck.” And he's waiting.

You wrap your lips around them, swallowing him down, not one to squander an opportunity sitting in front of you, right? You understand that now.

“So tell me how good you taste.”

"I-um, taste good—"

"Yeah, you fuckin' do."

"Thank you."

“Mhm.”

You can't see it, but you can hear it: the low clinking of a belt being unbuckled, the sound of a zipper being undone. Clinking metal and rustling denim being tampered with somewhere below your line of sight as he reaches down, almost like he— is he… oh.

Most of his body's obscured by the edge of the bed, but everything from the chest up is still visible. Simon's shoulder is bobbing slightly, arm pumping back and forth in a rhythmic motion and fuck, he's getting himself off to this.

That sends another spark of arousal to your core, makes you gush. It adds to the mess coating his jaw, his chin, his lips. You whimper out something – broken syllables – his name, maybe. You’re not entirely sure.

God, you’re almost there. So close. Wound up tight, hips rolling against his mouth, chasing his tongue—

Until he stops entirely. No contact. Simon pulls away in such a rush that you gasp, startled.

"Look at that." Accusatory.

It's a trail of liquor dribbling over the curve of your stomach, down your side in small rivulets. There are streaks pooling onto the sheets underneath you. Tragic.

(Couldn't help yourself, huh?)

Guilty as charged.

Shit.

"What'd I say – told you to hold still, yeah?"

And even though you had a feeling it would happen, you still have the nerve to act surprised at the result. "Fuck," you whine pathetically. "Was so close—"

"We're starting over. Don't care if it takes us all night, we're gonna keep at this 'til you get it right or you use up the rest of the whiskey," he says, readying himself to deposit another pour of alcohol into your navel. Simon lifts his shoulder in a light shrug like he can't be bothered about the final outcome. "Better pray that it works out before the bottle’s empty. Won't let you finish otherwise, sweetheart. Understand?"

[yunhohours]

Sleep Over?

✗ Pairing: date!renjun x fem!reader

✗ Word count: 3.7k

✗ Warnings: fluffy smut, renjun cannot stop kissing reader, 'baby' as a pet name, small bit of breast/nipple play, fingering (f. receiving), reader makes a decisive choice to have unprotected sex (do not recommend), creampie, these bitches are in love with each other oh my god

✗ A/N: this was inspired by a prompt request that appealed to me so much i had to make it a whole thing. the prompts requested will be in bold font. i tried to keep reader's prior romantic and sexual experience vague enough to suit everyone, considering the nature of the prompts.

It’s your sixth or seventh date with Renjun. You kind of stopped focusing on the number after the third because that’s all the books and movies seem to care about. Tonight, you decided to stay in and cook together for once. You usually go here or there, eating at new places or trying new activities together. It’s always a lot of fun… but tonight, you wanted to just be together.

And by be together, you don’t mean in bed together. At least, you don’t think so. It’s the six or seventh date and Renjun hasn’t even kissed you yet. At least, not really.

He’s kissed you on the cheek. He’s held your hand–always, actually. He’s hugged you and held you, but he has never kissed you on the lips. At first, you were worried that he didn’t want to–that he just didn’t like you all that much. 

But how can you believe that? He keeps asking you out on dates, keeps making it sound like seeing you again is the biggest joy in his life. He wants to see you as much as your schedules allow and when he’s with you, you have his full attention, his full heart. So you know it’s not that he doesn’t like you. You actually started to think it was sweet and, really, you still think that, but you’d really like him to kiss you. You want to get it out of the way so you can kiss him again and again–whenever you want.

You’re in Renjun’s kitchen, washing pasta sauce off your clean plates side by side. You’re both wearing brilliant smiles as you talk and giggle and threaten to splash each other with water. He did splash you–just a little bit–when you were cleaning the pots and the utensils, but after one adorable warning look from you, he retreated. Not that you’d have minded if he didn’t. You’re starting to think there’s nothing he could do that would make you look at him with anything but adoring eyes.

Renjun reaches to turn off the water and you reach for your keys on the counter. He frowns.

“Hey…” His voice is soft as he takes your hand, pulling you towards him gently. He releases your hand only to wrap his arm around you instead, holding you at your lower back, his eyes glittering as he looks into yours. “Sleep over? Please?” 

You feel a swarm of butterflies come to life in your stomach. You hadn’t expected this. You were just hoping for a kiss, but now he’s offering you…

Well, you don’t really know what he’s asking. You can infer, but based on your previous experiences together, you doubt it.

“Sleep over? Do you mean…?”

Before you can finish asking, Renjun answers.

“We can just sleep. I just don’t want you to go home yet.” He cups your face in his hand, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “I’m really happy when I’m with you.”

How many butterflies live in your stomach? You lean into his touch, blinking at him fondly like a woman in love. Maybe you are a woman in love. Your lips curl up slightly as you nod your head. You want to tell him you feel the same way. You want to tell him that you’d like to sleep next to him every single night. But you can’t manage all of that right now. Not when you feel so overwhelmed with emotion. “Okay.”

It’s a single word and not as much as he deserves, but the bright grin that takes up his face would have you believing otherwise. “Good,” he says, brushing his lips against your hair before placing a soft kiss to your forehead. His fingers ghost down your arm as he reaches for your hand once again. He guides you towards his bedroom as he speaks. “Let’s get you something you can wear to sleep.”

You almost think that he means you’ll be wearing his clothes, but that thought doesn’t have time to cement itself. When you pass through the door to his room, your eyes instantly spot something of yours folded neatly on his dresser. He walks you right to it, smiling sheepishly. He lets go of your hand to present the clothing item to you and you laugh. It’s your old, reliable, oversized t-shirt.

“I know I’ve been telling you since our second date that I would wash and give this back to you… and I know I have been telling you that I forgot it every time since.” He pauses, cocking his head slightly as a coy expression takes over his face. “I just wanted an excuse to see you again. If I needed one.”

You feel almost dizzy at his words. Is this what it feels like to be lovesick? Every time he opens his mouth, you feel love trying to break its way out of your body–trying to grow past the confines.

You wore this t-shirt when you went to the beach on your second date. You just needed something to cover your swimsuit until it was time to be in it. But when you and Renjun were playing on the beach–chasing each other after he teased you or you teased him–you ran into the water without thinking. You were just trying to escape his playful wrath. You weren’t thinking about the fact that you still had your shirt on–not that you would have cared about getting it wet in the first place. You laughed and looked down at your soaked through t-shirt when you realized. By the time you looked up again, Renun was in the water too, eyes looking almost apologetic. You told him a million times that you didn’t care at all about your shirt getting wet, but he kept insisting on walking to a nearby hut and buying you a new one. He didn’t want you to be cold on the ride home, he’d said. You forgot your original shirt in his car.

“Well, I guess this is as good a time as any for me to get it back.” You smile, playfully nudging his arm with your elbow before taking the shirt from him. You look towards his bedroom door, attempting to look past it for a bathroom to change in.

“Right next door,” he says, answering your silent question.

You look back at him–in awe of him. He anticipates your every need. You nod and reach up to kiss his cheek, lingering there for a moment. You pull away, heading to the bathroom next door, your heart beating at double speed. 

Renjun’s bathroom is clean, beautiful. It’s exactly what you’d expect from a clean, beautiful person. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you admire it. A small plant that he has had to learn how to keep alive. A candle that you can only assume he lights when he has a bath. Plush towels that tempt you to take that bath before bed. You shake your head once in an effort to refocus yourself, carefully stepping out of your clothes and into your shirt. You realize that you don’t have any shorts to wear with it, but he’s seen you in swimwear already. Your panties are much the same. Surely, he’s thought this too.

When you enter Renjun’s bedroom again, it’s darker. The overhead lights are off, leaving the room dimly lit by a single lamp on his bedside table. You can see him sitting against his headboard, legs under his sheets. His comforter is folded at the end of his bed–he probably only uses it when the temperature calls for it. His eyes round out just slightly as he smiles at you. He looks grateful that you’re here.

You make your way to his bed and slip under the sheets. Unlike Renjun, you cover yourself up to your shoulders, laying down properly on your side and looking at him. You match his smile. He matches your position, sinking down to mirror your body. You stay just like this–smiling, holding each other’s gaze, feeling what it’s like to find home in another person–for a minute or two.

Renjun’s eyes slide down to your lips. You almost gulp. Is he finally going to kiss you? His hand cups your face–much like he did in the kitchen–but this time, his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, featherlight.

“Why are you looking at me like that? It makes me think you want to kiss me.” Your voice is a whisper.

“Have you kissed anyone before?” He answers your question with a question, this thumb still grazing back and forth across your lip. His touch is so light that you wouldn’t know he was touching you at all if your lip wasn’t moving on its own accord.

Your cheeks heat up at the question. You’re not sure why. Maybe it’s because you want to know what would make him ask that. What is it about you that makes him think there's enough of a chance that you haven’t kissed anyone, so he should ask? What does he want the answer to be? Maybe it’s because the question alone makes you feel even more sure that he is going to kiss you this time.

While you’re busy thinking instead of answering, Renjun has either come to his own conclusion in his mind or decided that he doesn’t care after all, because he leans in, his eyes on your lips. The moment is finally here. You tense, bracing for what you’ve been craving.

Renjun notices your tension, mistaking it for nervousness. “Don’t be afraid. It’s me.” He whispers the words, his lips brushing against yours softly as he speaks.

His lips connect with yours, both of you closing your eyes. You feel your body relax with the kiss. Maybe you were nervous. You’ve never cared about someone this much, after all. He lets his lips pop free of yours after just one gentle peck of your lips, but he doesn’t pull away. He’s testing how you feel, what you want. You angle your face just slightly, playfully bumping his nose with yours as a signal that you’re just fine. He smiles and brushes his lips against yours before kissing you again.

This time, he doesn’t stop after the first kiss finishes. He follows it with another and another, each one stealing more of your breath. His lips are so soft and the connection between you can be felt physically, your body overwhelmed with passion. Your hand clutches the front of his shirt, tangling it in your fist as a way to disperse some of the tension in your body. His hand wraps around your fist, smiling against your lips.

He presses forward, directing you to lie on your back. He does it slowly and carefully enough that you could just ignore his body’s signals and stay as you are, but you oblige his request, welcoming his body on top of yours. He holds your face tenderly in one hand, holding himself up with the other, not wanting to overwhelm you too quickly. He lets his body melt on top of yours, his tongue asking for permission at the seam of your lips. You don’t hesitate to give it to him, parting your lips for him.

You’re both breathing heavily, the heat warming your faces. Renjun’s tongue is intentional in its exploration of your mouth, massaging your tongue in a sensual fashion that reflects the way he holds your face in his hand. Loving. 

Your hands are resting on either side of Renjun’s neck, holding lightly enough that if you put any less effort into your wrists, they would fall away. Renjun’s hands are on the move, gliding over your shoulders and down your arms. He takes your hands in his for a moment, threading his fingers through yours, squeezing affectionately. He turns your arms, letting his thumbs brush against your wrists. Through all of this, he never stops kissing you.

The kiss is more involved now, both of you angling your heads and chasing after each other’s lips like you’d die without them. Renjun licks into your mouth teasingly a few times, his hands gripping your hips where your shirt has bunched up and settled. You can’t help but moan softly at the flirtation. He grins against your lips before capturing them again, his fingers experimenting with the hem of your shirt. Your hands tighten their hold on his neck, moving closer to the back of his head, finding his hair. 

Renjun hums his approval against your lips, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt, feeling the warmth of your stomach. Your stomach tenses under his touch, the anticipation triggering an influx of adrenaline. 

Misunderstanding, Renjun’s hands retreat.

“No–” You dispute, breathless.

Renjun pulls back enough to see your face clearly, his amorous eyes searching yours. His thumb hooks under them of your shirt, brushing against the skin there, checking. Making sure you don’t really mind. “Are you sure? Once we start, I might not be able to stop.” He kisses the tip of your nose, surely reassuring you that he won’t be upset either way.

You nod, holding his eyes so he knows you mean it. “I want to be with you.”

That’s all Renjun needed to hear. He kisses you again–harder this time, but still precious. His hands fully move under your shirt, feeling the entire expanse of your abdomen. You sigh dreamily against his lips, he licks at yours playfully. He ventures off your mouth, kissing across your jaw, turning your head with his in the process. His hands reach your breasts, thumbs lightly brushing over the nipples. He savors the quiet moan you reward him with, cupping them. You moan again.

Your wrists are limply thrown over Renjun’s upper back as he kisses down your neck, focusing on the spot where it meets your shoulder. He sucks the skin into his mouth and you gasp at the sensation. If he keeps it up, he’ll be leaving a mark behind. You feel him hardening against your thigh as his hands massage your breasts, your pussy clenching at the prospect of feeling him inside you. I want to be as close to him as humanly possible, you think. 

Oh god, you’re hopelessly in love with him. There’s no question about it.

“Renjun…” You hesitate, timid. What if he doesn’t want the same thing?

“What is it, baby?” He asks, voice laced with affection. He kisses the same spot over and over, just pecks. He doesn’t want his mouth to get too involved when he might need to use more words.

“I want to feel you.” You manage the words. You feel shy, but he’s worth the effort. You swear you feel his cock twitch against your leg.

Renjun hums, pleased. He licks over the spot he’s been marking–once, twice, three times. “I’ll take care of you, baby. I want to feel you too.” He kisses back up to your lips, his hand skating down the softness of your belly towards your panties. His kiss is soft again, just like before. He keeps his tongue to himself, not wanting you to focus on anything but the feeling of him touching you, his hand reaching into your panties, fingers taking up residency in your folds.

He kisses the corner of your lips as you moan. You didn’t realize how much you wanted him. This first touch feels like you’ve been waiting your whole life for it. His middle finger tests your clit, pushing against it like a trigger-sensitive button, and you twitch, moaning louder than before.

“You’re already so sensitive.” You can hear the desire in his voice, his lips hovering by your jaw. He continues feeling you out, fingers gliding towards your entrance, finding much more arousal than he’d anticipated. “Fuck, y/n.”

A hint of embarrassment tinges your features. “I just… really want you.” You admit.

He groans with his own want, placing comforting kisses across your jaw as he makes his way back to your lips. “How did I get so lucky?” You kiss him before he can kiss you and he moans this time.

Not one to rush things or risk you being uncomfortable, Renjun’s fingers probe at your entrance. He guides one of his fingers inside you, both of you hissing at the feeling. Realizing that you’re plenty aroused enough, Renjun adds a second finger, working them gently inside you. You whine–wanting to keep feeling him like this, wanting to feel him more.

“I know, baby. Me too.”

Renjun thrusts his fingers a few more times before pulling them out. He sits back on his feet, pulling his shirt over his head. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but it’s different right now. You salivate, appreciating your view as he hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties, peeling them down and off your legs before hovering over you again. 

“Should I get a condom?” He asks, his eyes level with yours. 

You take a moment to think before answering. “No.”

He raises his brow, asking silent questions. Does that mean you want me to stop? Do you want me to keep going without one?

“I want to feel you.” You repeat the words from earlier.

Renjun’s face looks pained at the words. The good kind of pain. The kind that comes with a groan of lust, love. He kisses you, using one hand to push his boxers down until they’re out of the way. He sighs with relief, the exhale causing your lips to separate. You stay in place, breathing against each other’s mouths as Renjun guides the tip of his cock through your slick. You can tell from the way his hips jerk at the feeling that he’s just as worked up as you are, if the sheer hardness of his cock wasn’t enough of a tell. You finger the hair at the back of his head, soothing him.

Renjun pulls back like he did before–just until he can see your face clearly. He watches your expression as he pushes himself into you, watching for any sign of discomfort even as he groans from pleasure. Fortunately, all he sees is the way your brows raise at the front and your jaw lowers, the prettiest moan he’s ever heard tumbling out of your kiss-swollen lips.

Taking this as a sign to give you more, Renjun starts to pump himself inside you. He’s slow, but not too slow. Just slow enough to make it feel like his tongue feels when it’s in your mouth–the delicious drag of his cock along your walls. You can feel every movement individually instead of it becoming one big, blurred assault. You moan in sync with each other, the feeling of being one the strongest aphrodisiac.

You find yourself grasping as Renjun fucks into you–for his shoulder, his back, his hair. Anything. It’s not that he’s fucking you so hard you need to hold onto something. It’s that everything feels so overwhelmingly good being with him that you need something to ground you. To remind you that this is real and possible and yours.

You like that Renjun doesn’t inhibit himself with you. He lets his own sounds of pleasure come freely, escalating as the pleasure does. You’re comfortable with each other–both pairs of hips coming together in an effort for maximum closeness. You pant and moan and shiver together, experiencing the same kind of romantic bliss as each other. One of Renjun’s hands takes yours from the back of his hair, linking his fingers through yours–holding.

Your other arm wraps around Renjun’s neck, pulling him down, wanting him closer. His head falls into the crook of your neck and you’re grateful, his beautiful moans now landing directly on your ears. He sounds so pretty–you want to tell him that later. Renjun’s free hand snakes under your back, pulling you up against him as you hold him down against you. He’s thrusting into you without more urgency now–the difference felt more noticeably through speed rather than intensity. The uptake of pace makes your lashes flutter, your orgasm nearing. You can tell from the way Renjun sounds that he’s close, too.

You squeeze Renjun’s hand with yours and you squeeze his cock with your pussy. He groans. You can almost hear him thinking I know, baby. Me too. You hold onto his neck for dear life as he continues ramping up the pace, making your head feel dizzy on his pillow. Your moans slur into one long one, Renjun’s mixing with grunts. Your eyes roll back as your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your body vibrating in Renjun’s hold. You hear his erotic vocals stutter at the feeling of you tightening around him, creaming him. Oh my god, you hear.

Renjun comes right after, his own white coating your insides. The warmth of it is as comforting as Renjun himself. Renjun’s hips still as his orgasm diffuses, keeping himself fully sheathed inside your perfect body. He exhales heavy breaths against your shoulder before lifting his head. It feels like it weighs a ton right now, but he wants to see you. You make eye contact, wordlessly staring into each other’s eyes–maybe, even, each other’s souls–for a few long moments.

“Y/n?”

You swallow thickly, tongue licking your lips as you try to come back to your body. “Hmm?”

Renjun takes your face in his hand, looking down at you with shining eyes. He kisses your nose with his nose. “I think I might be in love with you.” He sounds vulnerable, but more importantly: he sounds certain, despite his phrasing.

Your eyes scan his face–every perfect feature. You feel the need to memorize them at this very moment, as if you’d never get another chance to see them. Funny, considering you intend on seeing them as much as you possibly can for the rest of your life. 

The silence lingers on too long. Renjun is patient, like always. 

“I think I’m in love with you, too.”

Renjun grins through his exhausted state. He wraps both arms under your back, squeezing tightly around your waist. He hugs you to himself, making you laugh as he rolls over until you’re laying comfortably on top of him. You’re still connected at the crotch.

“I think that’s the best thing anyone has ever said to me,” he says, finally releasing his tight squeeze. He keeps his arms around you, one hand tracing lines up and down your back with his fingertips. That’s the best thing I’ve ever said, you think to yourself, closing your eyes to enjoy this moment.

[sporadicthingcollection]

Kiss, Marry, Kill: Part 1/2 (LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: In which Buggy overhears a private conversation and uses that knowledge against you. Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: Semi-explicit. Word Count: ~3k (of 5.3k) Warnings: Clown abuse, strong language, incorrect use of a straight razor.

Never had you on my mind Now you're there all the time Never knew what I missed until I kissed ya

---

By all accounts, Buggy should be having a great time. There's food, alcohol, gambling... hell, there's even a swimming pool. Not that he can partake, but he can live vicariously.

Instead, he's got a whole school of shark eyes trained on him as he sits on a stool next to Arlong's throne. This water park sucks.

He's not chained up or anything. The threat of a couple dozen sets of teeth ripping into him is reason enough to sit perfectly still, keep his mouth shut, and try to look as small as possible. No sudden movements, no change in expression, no—

"Kiss the clown, marry the waiter, kill Pink Hair."

Buggy sits bolt upright and looks around. Who the hell said that?

Arlong doesn't even deign to look at him. "Hear something?"

Clear. Crisp. With a little bit of an accent, maybe. He's heard it somewhere recently, but where?

Certainly not here. It was a woman's voice, and Arlong Park is a bit of a sausage party at the moment. Not that he can tell on sight with fishpeople.

"Answer me, clown," Arlong rumbles.

He forgets who he's talking to for a moment. "Eavesdropping's an art," he snaps. "You can't rush art."

Big mistake. Arlong responds with a low, wet growl. "It's been three days. My patience is running thin."

Quiet chatter. The clinking of silverware. Someone chewing with their mouth open. The little pirates are at a restaurant, it seems.

He relays this to Arlong. He's less than pleased. He enunciates every word to show his teeth. "Care to be more specific?"

A shudder crawls up the back of Buggy's neck. He takes a swig of his drink to cover it. He places his fingers over his remaining ear, straining.

"You're shitting me." That voice he recognizes. The redhead. The one who ruined his show. The one Arlong's so interested in. Nadi? Nani? Noni?

The other woman speaks. "Nami, you rejected him," she says. "Girl Code only applies if you were dating."

Nami. That's her, the conniving little bitch. "No, not the waiter. I mean you'd seriously kiss the clown? He nearly killed us."

He'd recognize Rubber Boy's voice anywhere, the little shitheel. "And his nose would get in the way."

The mystery woman speaks up again. "That's nothing new. I’ve smacked noses with plenty of guys."

Okay, that narrows it down. It’s not the redhead, it can't be Rubber Boy or the bounty hunter, so that leaves...

...you. Of course it's you. How could he forget you? You're the only one who laughed at Axe-Hand Moron. Granted, it was more like a snnrrrk and you immediately clapped your hand over your mouth, eyes wide with horror, but it was a laugh all the same.

And in that moment, he knew he liked you. Bad sense of humor. Cute smile. A little bashful. He appreciates that. Sure, you helped humiliate him not an hour after the fact, but all's fair in love and piracy.

"Look, I'm not saying it’s a good idea," you continue, "but sometimes you gotta live dangerously."

The bounty hunter speaks, dry and droll. "Storms are dangerous. Bar fights are dangerous. You're just insane."

"Oh, c'mon, you're not seriously gonna hold Fu..." You pause. "Kiss Marry Kill answers against me."

So that's what's going on. "They're just chattering like they always are," he says to Arlong.

Arlong does not like that answer. He snatches Buggy up by the neck, lifting him clear off the ground with only one hand.

"Wait! Wait wait wait! They're still talking! I might have something!" He kicks and struggles, but it's no use.

You speak. "You think everything pops off? ‘Cause a gal could really— hyurk.”

Laughter all around as you’re cut off by something. Sounds like you choked.

“Thank you, Usopp,” Nami says. “I am not having that conversation.”

Arlong saunters over to the pool, carrying Buggy like a ragdoll. He has precious few seconds now. C'mon, he wills them, say something useful!

A slap, a spit, then a couple of hard coughs. “Nice shot,” you wheeze. “Use the unspicy peanut next time. I think I burned my windpipe.”

The new guy — Usopp — scoffs. “Spicy? Please. This isn’t spicy. Baratie spicy is barely a zip. Now, you want spicy, you gotta hit up the Great Pepper Isles. Their chilis are so hot, I had an out-of-body experience.”

And boom, there it is. Right as he's about to be dropped into the water, his ticket to life.

“Baratie! They're at Baratie," he chokes out. "That floating restaurant. That really nice one I got thrown out of, the pricks."

It was Cabaji's fault. Turns out whipping a unicycle out at the bar is frowned upon. Who'd've thunk.

Arlong 'smiles.' All teeth and gums and no mirth at all. "Consult our charts," he says to the nearest fishman. "I'll prepare our compass."

He grabs Buggy by the hair and yanks. In the interest of not getting his neck broken, he separates his head from his body. Unfortunately, gravity takes over and his body plunges into the pool.

Weakness swamps him like a rogue wave. He can't say a word as he's stuffed into a cloth sack and everything goes dark.

In both ears, all he can hear are the sounds of laughter.

---

Someday, Buggy will learn not to run his fat mouth. That day is not today.

Usopp barges into the galley and lobs his head through the air, a low slow toss. He only has a moment to appreciate not being overhand pitched before landing on the floor. Not on his nose, fortunately, but it still hurts.

He points at the blonde guy — Sanji? Sanji. "I can't take it anymore. He's your problem now. I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

He tramps off as Buggy flips himself upright. “What’s his problem?” he asks no one in particular. “Sheesh, you make one ‘your mom’ joke and—“

A decidedly unmanly yelp escapes him as he's popped up into the air. The world spins and turns and he braces himself to hit the ground again, only to be caught in soft hands. He's spun around...

...and comes face to face with you, regarding him with curious, contemptuous eyes.

Oh, you're even prettier up close. The redhead's a looker, but she's still a kid. Soft. Pale. Set like a mousetrap, ready to spring and break some poor chump's neck at the slightest provocation.

But you? You're a grown-ass woman. Comfortable in your sun-kissed skin. A twinkle of experience in your eye and the ease of someone who's been sailing her ship for years.

He can't help but smile. "Well, well, well. Fancy meeting you here, gorgeous," he says with a wink.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Sanji shoot him a glare. Your expression remains cool and uninterested. Shifting his head to your side, you hold him against your hip like a laundry basket. Even through your trousers, the soft swell of flesh warms his cheek.

“Weren't you just on buggysitting duty?” you ask Sanji.

Buggysitting? Really? "I'm right here, y'know," he grumbles.

He's ignored, as per usual. Sanji straightens up and huffs. “New guy always gets the shit jobs.”

“Let’s trade,” you say. “You take my watch and I’ll mind our chatty compass.”

Rude. “I’m still right here.”

Sanji shakes his head. “Go get your beauty sleep. Not that you need it, of course."

Wow, that was a bad line. Buggy makes his displeasure known with a retch.

“Sleep is for people who don’t have coffee.” You flap your hand toward the door. "Shoo.”

Sanji glances between you and Buggy, but heads for the door. "Any trouble at all, love, and I’m a shout away."

A little smile colors your voice. "If he starts gnawing my ankles, you’ll be the first to know."

Sanji returns the smile, sickeningly sweet. As he leaves, you sit at the table, placing Buggy across from you.

He wants nothing more than to plant his leg on a stool, lean in on his knee, and give you a toothy grin. But alas, he must settle for the grin. "Alone at last. Come here often?"

You don't even bother to look at him, too preoccupied with picking up a very shiny straight razor and a strip of leather. Muscle ripples under your skin as you slide the blade back and forth.

"So you're the barber," he says. You don't respond. "Can't imagine you're too busy on a ship with a bunch of babyfaces." Still nothing. "Don't suppose I could get a shave, then? Last time I used a straight razor, I ended up like this!"

"Barber surgeon," you say as you inspect the blade. Dissatisfied with some invisible blemish, you continue stropping.

He shrugs, only to remember he can’t. "Say, doc, I can't feel anything below my neck. Could you take a look?”

Irritation tints your voice. “Not a doctor,” you say. You’ve clearly had to explain this countless times before. “Doctors treat the inside. I fix up the outside.”

“Splitting hairs, Miss Sawbones.”

Shiff shiff shiff goes the razor. "If you don't stop talking, we’re gonna see if cutting off the nose really does spite the face. Might be an improvement for you.”

That’s just low. “Keep talking shit and this bark is gonna turn into bite.”

You finally look up. You level the razor at him, glaring down the blade. “You’re the only one talking, clown.”

Damn. Your eyes are pretty. Warm as the first sunbeam of a summer morning, but dark as the blotches he gets in his eyes when he looks into a spotlight by accident. Hot like one, too. Heat lurks below the dark surface, like warm charcoal about to catch fire.

Nerves ball up in his absent chest. He swallows them and summons his bravado. “Can ya blame me? I’ve got shit else to do. I’ve met parrots with more to say than you.”

"Count the cracks in the ceiling."

"One, two, three—“ He gives an exaggerated groan. “Didn't you say you were gonna make coffee? Can I get in on that?"

You scoff, but you do stand. "Last thing you need is caffeine.”

“The last thing I need is to be held hostage by a bunch of greenhorn nobodies,” he says, "and yet here I am."

“Sucks to suck,” you say. You pull a pot out of a cupboard and fill it with water. “How do you take it? Sugar? Cream?”

“Black. Like my heart.”

You let out that snnnrrrrk of a suppressed laugh again. What a nice sound. “Something we got in common.”

“Black heart or black coffee?”

“Yes.”

Such a simple, easy response. Not even particularly clever. But the delivery with no hesitation, no intonation, no second guessing the punchline. He laughs. “I knew I liked you!”

You glance over your shoulder at him. “You try to kill everyone you like? No wonder you have no friends.”

He hops to the edge of the table. Not an easy feat with only a stump. “C’mon, babe. All’s fair in love and piracy.”

Calling you babe was a blindfolded over-the-shoulder shot in the dark, but it lands. You add a smile to your glance. “I’ll give you that and nothing more.”

Somewhere, miles away, his heart flutters. He lets it. “Will you still give me coffee?”

“Only if you shut up ‘til this water boils.”

In this state, he’ll take any scrap of stimulus he can get. He bites his tongue and bites it hard, willing himself not to speak.

Silence creeps in. Silence leads to stewing, and stewing leads to bad thoughts. Bad feelings. Lonely feelings. Like how long it’s been since he’s had a friendly cuppa joe with someone. Or had someone honestly laugh at his stupid jokes.

Especially not someone as quick as you. Or as pretty. Or with such a nice ass. Or who maybe-sorta-kinda-might-possibly be interested in him. Potentially. Hypothetically.

There’s no damn way, he tells himself. You’re humoring him. You’re definitely shacking up with that cook — young, charming, handsome. Or the bounty hunter, maybe — tall, dark, broody.

You wouldn’t give him a second glance. Him, a pathetic, painted, big-nosed weirdo. Who is currently a severed head. A temporary state, but still not a good first impression. Even though his actual first impression was trying to kill you and your buddies. This second first impression is just as bad.

A sharp groan escapes him before he can stop it. He eyes you, expecting you to snap at him or worse.

But you don’t. You pause in your pouring to peer over your shoulder at him, gaze soft. “Y’alright?”

There goes his heart again. Ugh. “Peachy. That coffee done yet?”

You curl your lip. “What’s got your panties in a knot?”

“Just realized I’m gonna need a straw or some shit.”

Still sneering, you set a shallow mug in front of him. “I’ll see what I can find.”

See? You definitely don’t like him. Stupid fucking jackass, letting his hopes get up. This is what he gets.

…A nice, warm cup of coffee. If you really hated him, you wouldn’t have given him coffee, right? Or be looking for a straw?

You’re just humoring him. You just want to save your friend. Catch more flies with honey and all that. He’ll be more agreeable if you’re friendly.

Across the room, you open a drawer. “Hey, bendy straws. Perfect.”

You’re breaking out bendy straws for him? There’s gotta be something there! At least a little something!

No. No way. Coincidence.

You place an oddly long straw into the mug. He realizes it’s three normal ones jammed end-to-end, creating a pipe ending just about level with his mouth.

You just pulled some engineering shit so he can drink coffee with you. There’s definitely something.

An ice cube plops into the mug and you slide back into the booth with your own cup. “Might dilute it a bit, but can’t have you burning your mouth.”

His distant heart flips again. He has to say something. Before he can convince himself otherwise. He says the first thing that comes to mind.

“So,” he says, “‘kiss the clown,’ eh?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. That’s the first thing he thought of? Seriously? He braces himself for boiling coffee thrown in his face.

You freeze mid-sip, brows raised. “Excuse me?”

Okay, you don’t look mad. “Don’t deny it, babe. I heard everything. Kiss Marry Kill? Nice job keeping it kid-friendly, wink wink."

You stare at him with those dark eyes. "No idea what you're on about."

"I know you know. And I know you know I know." He waggles his eyebrows, hoping for a laugh, but he gets nothing.

You watch the steam swirling up from your mug. "What do you want me to say, exactly? That I chose you to kiss?"

"I just wanna know what possesses a woman to make her want to shack up with the guy who tried to kill her and her friends." He lips the straw into his mouth and takes a test sip. Still quite hot.

"Circumstance. Process of elimination. Being put on the spot." You pick up the razor. Your fiddling with it belies your agitation.

"Don't lie to me, babe," he croons. "I can see right through you."

You stare at him. "And what is it that you see?"

What does he see? "A woman on a knife's edge of self-satisfaction and self-destruction. Once bitten, twice shy, but when he comes around the third time, you just can't help yourself."

Your fiddling becomes more insistent. You break eye contact to look at the razor. He's hitting on something. Time to push some buttons.

"You bet on the wrong horse every time. You think it'll be different this time. But it never is." He smiles bitterly. "Something else we got in common. Birds of one ugly feather."

Your gaze softens as you return your gaze to him. "So you found the problem, Doctor Headshrink. What’s the prescription?"

Shoot your shot, Buggy. "Kiss the clown and maybe we'll find out."

You're still for a few moments. Then slowly, carefully, you slide your hand across the table. You pull him closer as you lean lower in your seat to eye level with him.

He can't help the way his breath quickens. It's been so, so long since he had any kind of intimacy. Your reedy fingers trace his jaw down to his chin. Your thumb comes up to pull at his bottom lip, and he lets out a satin-soft whimper as he opens his mouth to you.

You strike like a snake, yanking his tongue out with one hand and readying your razor with the other. His choke turns into a scream as you bring it down, severing his tongue clean at the root.

It's one thing to disconnect body parts. Pop a leg off, drop an ear — he’s used to it. But it's a different story when said part is supposed to be inside of him. His tongue waggles like a fish as he tries to return it to his mouth, but you keep a firm grip.

"You can have this back in the morning," you say.

He wants to cuss you out, but what comes out is ew bihck, whadda fuhck iss won wif ew, gif ih bahck.

You laugh. And lord, what a laugh you've got. Loud, like a party gone late into the hours of the night. Clattery, like a dozen plates shattering on the floor. Full of mirth, like a drunk on payday.

And, for the briefest of moments, his rage is forgotten. He wants to make you laugh like that.

But it returns with a vengeance, replaced with a desire to see you squirm.

---

⬅⬅⬅ | To the "Curious Courtship" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar | ➡➡➡

[whiskersz]

Hey so I just saw you had request opened for Adam so could you please do headcannons with Adam x reader where the reader is like very nervous at first and is quiet but after a bit when they open up is supper out going and talks a lot? Have an amazing day/night!

Hello there! Happy to write some Adam headcanons for you, dear reader! Hope you like these and have a wonderful day/night yourself :3 I assumed these were meant to be romantic but they can be read either way.

Adam x Quiet -> Outgoing! Reader HCs

Adam isn’t really sure what to think of you at first.

He never knows what to make of quiet people; is there a storm brewing in their little brain, or are they uninteresting and as such undeserving of his attention? Lute is the first for example, and he quite likes her, so he decides to give you a chance.

What really amuses him is your nervousness around him at first; he’ll tease you by asking things such as “What, cat got your tongue?” and make fun of you when you stumble on your own words, his booming laugh catching the attention on anyone nearby.

Lord knows why you stick around, but you do, and day after day you two somehow grow closer; you get used to his tacky jokes about your personality and little by little you learn to either ignore him and move on or retort with the first thing that comes to mind, shushing him. He’ll either blow you a very immature raspberry or flip the bird at you whenever this happens.

Once you open up a bit and become way more talkative though, unfortunately for you, he finds a whole new reason to be rude to you;

“Got your tongue back I see. Great, now I’ve got a pest by my side.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you’re going to give me a headache!”

“Do you ever shut up?”

As you can probably tell having any kind of relationship with Adam is not the easiest thing in the world – or well, in Heaven, in this case.

It’s not rare for you to get a bit offended by what he says, but you’ve figured out a way to worm your way into his heart and get him to listen to you: acts of service.

Adam is a bit lazy when it comes to doing things that aren’t fun for him, so the best way to get him to calm down a bit is to take the weight off his shoulders and do whatever needs to be done in his stead.

Of course, we’re talking about everyday acts, such as doing the groceries or cleaning. He’s going to be overjoyed if you get him something he likes while you’re out too; every time you come back home from grocery shopping with ribs to cook, he’s oh-so going to listen to your rants about how long the line at the cash register was or whatever you have to talk about this time.

He’s also a big napper, and it’s surprising even to him how much it helps him fall asleep when you talk about literally anything as he’s trying to take a nap. These are the times where he’ll actually reply to what you’re saying too!

“...and that’s when my friend left. I couldn’t believe it, like... if she really cared she would’ve stayed, right?”

“What...is she a fucking bitch? Of course she would’ve stayed if she gave a damn.”

He answers with his eyes closed each time, but his eyebrows are still furrowed in frustration whenever you tell him about someone or something that pissed you off.

Lute probably questions you guys’ relationship, not going to lie. She can deal with Adam, but you? She has absolutely no idea how you put up with him, but as long as she gets some free time for herself she’s not going to complain.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

My Son Came Home just the Other Day...

...and I just had to tell him how proud I was! My boy had become a strong young man! I'd been bragging to everyone I knew that my son, Private Joel Bishop, had made it through basic training and was on the way home to see his good old dad! I never knew being a father would bring me such joy, but here I am.

I slapped Joel on the back approvingly and discreetly wiped my eye. Things were getting too 'touchy-feely' for my taste, and we still had a whole night of celebration ahead of us.

"That means a lot, dad," he grinned as I pulled away, "but you deserve the credit. Should I grab some cold ones so we can catch up?"

I smiled, enjoying the humility and respect I had instilled in my son's character. He more than deserved the reward I had planned: dinner an expensive steakhouse and a box of premium cigars. I threw a hand on his shoulder and opened my mouth to reveal the surprise!

Instead, the words, "Son I need to introduce you to our new neighbor," came out of my mouth: definitely not what I intended.

That seemed strange. I surely hadn't meant to say that; however, when I thought about it, I did seem to remember something the neighbor had mentioned yesterday. Maybe I had promised to introduce my son to him. It must have been a good idea, if I was suggesting it. I would have to hurry though because our reservation was soon, and I couldn't wait to see the look on Joel's face when he found out what I had planned!

"Uh, sure," Joel answered, waiting for an explanation, "Who is it?"

"He's a great man!" I instantly shouted, feeling overwhelmingly defensive about the newcomer. I wasn't sure why I felt that way because I could barely even remember the guy.

Joel flinched at my sudden outburst, but I brushed it off and led him out the back door. My son followed me through the gate and into the backyard of our next door neighbor. Somehow, I knew I was only supposed to enter from the back door. My hand dug into a nearby planting pot and found a spare key. I'm not exactly sure how I knew that was there, but I shrugged it off and unlocked the door.

Joel didn't question me, but he seemed mildly annoyed. I'm glad he didn't ask what I was doing because I had no clue! My body marched on autopilot down a short hallway and parked in the middle of a living room. Our neighbor seemed to be busy napping on his couch. My cheeks flushed when I realized I had just walked in on the man sleeping.

"Excuse me sir," my voice suddenly rang out loudly, "My son Joel is back from the army."

Joel glared at me in confusion, "Dad what-"

"Shut it, kid," the man on the couch snapped awake and stretched, "Come stand quietly in front of me so I can get a good look at you."

Joel's mouth shut tight at the man's request. He marched up to our neighbor and stood at attention. There was something strangely automatic about his movements, like they were choreographed ahead of time. I suppose this is just how they learn to act in the army.

"Hmm, yes," the neighbor purred from the couch, "You're sexier than your dad described."

My jaw clenched and my fists tightened! Why the hell was this guy making those kinds of comments about my son! I had never spoken with this weirdo, and I had certainly never described my son in that way!

If this guy wasn't careful, he was going to get a fight! I would of course stand and wait like a dumb bitch until I was dismissed, but once I was, I'd let him know! For now, I'll just try and contain myself.

"Why so red-faced," he turned a haughty look to me, "You remember our conversation yesterday, right Mr. Bitch?"

Suddenly, my memory flooded back. Of course I remembered! I'd popped by our new neighbor's house to introduce myself. He had invited me in and we'd gotten talking. I had bragged about how my parenting had yielded the perfect son. Our neighbor had then launched into a long and boring lecture.

My neighbor pointed out that I'd been pronouncing my surname wrong all these years! I'm a total idiot! It's 'Bitch' not 'Bishop!' He'd also changed my plans on how to celebrate my son's homecoming.

"Of, course I remember," I gasped dumbly as it all flooded back, "Sorry, sir. As you know, I can be a bit of a dumb bitch."

"Everyone knows that, old man. Do you even remember what you have to do whenever you enter my house?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, sir," I replied as the instructions came back to me, "I am to go to the bathroom, stick my head in the toilet, and flush it seven times."

"That's it! And don't forget to keep your mouth open when it flushes, you old fart" he cracked up and laughed at me.

I nodded and left my son with our new neighbor, reporting to the bathroom like I was supposed to. Sticking my face in his skid marked toilet was the worst part about coming over. How could I have forgotten something like that? Without hesitating, I dropped to the floor and dipped below the toilet water, keeping my jaw locked open like he had suggested. I blindly found the handle and flushed the first wave over my head.

"All done, sir!" I called loudly, feeling compelled to announce my achievement.

Everything above my neck has been thoroughly soaked by the swirly, and it was quickly dripping down my clothes. My favorite shirt was now drenched! I wanted badly to dry off with the towel nearby, but I somehow knew that I was supposed to leave the toilet water on me instead.

Trudging back into the living room, I tried to prevent puddles by soaking the dripping water into my clothes, but it didn't work very well.

"Joel? What are you doing, son?" I blurted when I found him on his hands and knees.

Joel gazed up at me with a bizarre look on his face. It was as if he didn't even understand what he was doing down on the floor. His eyes seemed unfocused, like they weren't really seeing what was going on around him.

Nevertheless, he glanced over his shoulder at our new neighbor. It was like he was looking for guidance. My eyes followed his and we both found ourselves looking to the stranger for what to do next.

"Go on, boy," our neighbor chided, "Tell Mr. Bitch how you feel."

"Please," I straightened up, "Just call me Bitch. We're all friends here." I didn't care if a puddle was pooling at my feet. My son clearly had something important to say to me.

"Ok, Daddy," Joel blankly answered the guy on the couch. Then he turned an empty gaze to me, "Bitch, I'm moving out of your house. I want to live with our new neighbor. I want to be his slave boy and serve him any way I can."

I felt compelled to agree. I almost told him I was happy for him, but something felt off. Something had been gnawing at the back of my head ever since my son had gotten home. This wasn't how our night was supposed to go. My son and I were supposed to be enjoying steaks and cigars right now!

I shook my head a little. Beads of water flew from my hair, and I couldn't shake how wrong I had been acting. Why had I just given myself a swirly? And why was my son making such delusional statements?

"Woah, there big guy," our creepy next door neighbor hushed, "You're thinking too hard. You remember what you like to do when you think too hard right, Bitch?"

I breathed a sigh of relief out of my chest my chest when I remembered, "Yes, sir. I like to shove your leftovers down my pants when I'm thinking to hard."

Without another thought, I strolled into the kitchen and yanked the fridge open with a numb arm. A euphoric sense of relaxation washed over me when I saw a container of leftover spaghetti. Before I knew what I was doing, my hands had popped the lid off and fished the noodles and red sauce down the inside of my dress slacks. Once the container was empty, I zipped up my pants like nothing had happened and returned to the living room.

"Feeling better, Bitch?" my neighbor asked.

My glassy eyes noticed my son crouched by the feet of our neighbor. Joel was busy cleaning the guy's shoes, and I couldn't be more happy. So what if this is what he wanted to do with his life? He could become our neighbor's sex slave for all I cared. It's not like I cared about the kid. If he really had a chance to serve a man as great as our neighbor, then who cares about serving our country!

"Yeaah..." I moaned lightly.

"You like my homemade spaghetti?" the neighbor chuckled meanly.

"Yeeaaah..." my voice came out drawn, "It feels really cold..."

"Man, you are a gross bitch, but I programmed you to fall deeper every time you humiliate yourself for me. Do you what I'm going to have you do next?"

"Nooo..."

"You're going to make your reservation at that restaurant," he looked me up and down, "And you'll go in those clothes you've soiled. Get drunk off your ass, alright Bitch? I want you to make a complete fool out of yourself."

I'd already turned to follow his orders when he turned back to my son, "I'm gonna play with little soldier boy here. Maybe I'll pass him around to my buddies so they can give him a try..."

I didn't hear what else was in store for Joel. I wasn't too bothered by my son. I'm sure he'd be able to make our neighbor happy. I was just excited to go to the steak house and start humiliating myself...

[minimickzy]

Oh My God || Hazel Callahan

Listen- I believe in loser hazel and I find her to be perfect- I know this isn't my best fic but I've been in serious bottoms brain rot

dialog prompts:

"Hold my hand" "Absolutely not"

Characters: Hazel Callahan x Reader, the whole club

Word count: 2359

Hazel Callahan was your mortal enemy. Did she know? Probably not. It was honestly beside the point. Because what mattered was that bitch seemed to have it out for you since the start of high school. First, it was taking your topic for a history project. Whatever- no big deal. Then all the “accidents” spilling coffee on your backpack (she had given you money for a new one but still), tripping you in the walkways, and hitting you in the face with a volleyball (multiple times). After that, she got the better parking spot for senior year, and finally, the great big plump cherry on top, she took the lunch table you had practically reserved since freshman year. 

At the end of the day, the whole ordeal may be a bit over-dramatic… but that table was perfect. In the corner, you could either hide or have a great undisturbed lunch with your friends. Hazel had sat there one day with Josie and PJ. which was weird in itself because they never had eaten in the cafeteria before and you didn't even remember them being friends. 

For how much you didn't care about Hazel Callahan- she sure took a lot of your attention.  

If anyone else had done any of those things- you probably wouldn’t have thought anything about it. But this was Hazel Callahan who despite your best efforts you could not stop crushing on. 

The stolen table was a very recent development. As in on Monday and it was now Wednesday. You sat at the next best table with Sylvie and Krystal, watching as Hazel feverishly wrote something in her notebook as PJ seemed to make a grandiose speech. 

She had no right to look that attractive while sitting in your spot. You groaned and face-planted into your crossed arms on the table. 

“Are you good dude?” You rolled your head to the side to look at Sylvie and then let out another frustrated groan. 

“Everything is awful and I hate it here.” 

Krystal patted your back while Silive sighed, “You know what you need?”

“Hmm?” 

“To hit something.” 

You laughed from inside your arm fortress, “Okay Sylvie- what should I hit? A fucking tree? Jeff? A Huntington player?” 

“No, you should join the fight club! It’s for women empowerment- I’m trying to train up to deal with my stepdad ya know?” 

You lifted your head and gave your friend a questioning look. “Fight club? For women empowerment?” 

Sylvie and Krystal both nodded excitedly. 

“When and Where?” 

----------------------------------------------

Of fucking course. 

When you walk in behind Krystal and Sylvie to the gym, the first person you see is Hazel.

Your body immediately fills with rage. At this point, it’s starting to feel like you're more angry at yourself for crushing on someone you barely even know. But you believe in self-love so you plan to continue projecting your anger onto someone else. 

Everyone was milling about and chatting, you left your bag on the bleachers by everyone else’s and followed your friends to the middle of the gym. 

Stella-Rebecca caught your eye and waved, which you gladly returned before PJ stomped as hard as possible on the floor to get everyone's attention. 

“What time is it?!” She screamed and was answered by a chorus of “3:15”s 

“That’s right you sluts! It’s time to get down and dirty!” 

You couldn't help the look of mild disgust that passed across your features. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. After al, Sylvie made some seriously questionable choices- you thought you could trust Krystal though. 

“Alright cunts- who wants to start us of-” PJ started by being cut off by Hazel who whispered something to her and then directed PJ’s attention onto you with a point of her pen. “Well look what the cat dragged in.” PJ gave you an unimpressed look which made you roll your eyes. 

“I can leave if this is a closed cl-” You started to point behind you to the door but Josie stopped you by waving her hands

“No- no you're more than welcome. PJ just gets a little into it- you know flashbacks to juvie and all that.” Josie gives a reassuring (and awkward) smile.

You pursed your lips and nodded, “Cool.” out of the corner of your eye you could see Hazel giving Josie a thumbs up. 

“Well, Since you’re fresh blood let's see what you got,” PJ says while smiling at you. 

“Okay,” you shrug. “I really don’t know what I’m doing though so don’t expect much.” 

PJ just brushes you off, “Don’t worry. It’s mostly just instinct.”

You nod and step into the center of the circle of girls. Okay, maybe this was a stupid fucking idea. 

“Let's see…” PJ looks around the circle, trying to decide who to pair you up with. “Hazel- why don’t you hop in.” 

Hazel looks nervous, but she still nods and enters the ring, giving you a small smile and nod. 

You look at her blankly, “Now what?” you ask.

“Now you hit each other.” PJ claps her hands together, “Fucking beat each other the fuck up!” 

“What-” You can’t finish your question because Hazel deals a hard hit right to your gut. “Fuck!” you double over in shock before gathering yourself again. “What the fuck.” 

Hazel looks a little confused but motions to herself, “Hit me now- that's how this works.” 

You give her the best “what the fuck” look you can convey before settling into a fighting stance. You thought there'd be a little lead-up or something.

You swung and got in a decent hit to the side of Hazel's face. It left a stinging sensation on your knuckles but you tried to shake it off. 

The two of you exchanged a few more punches and kicks back and forth before Hazel managed to catch you completely off guard and- 

BAM 

Your ass hit the ground hard. “Fuck!” you couldn't help the curse from leaving your lips. You let yourself unfurl onto the ground and stared at the ceiling. The girls around you clapped as you tried to catch your breath. 

“Good fight,” Hazel said, reaching one of her hands out towards you on the ground. 

You just looked at her, “Yeah. Good...” Suddenly your head hurt a lot more than it did a minute ago. “Fight.” This was definitely a stupid fucking decision. Maybe this is what killed you. RIP the girl who got her lights knocked out but the girl who was both the love and hate of her life. 

You tried to sit up but the world was kinda spinning. 

“Hazel, how hard did you hit her?” Josie asked as she joined Hazel looking down at you. Hazel looked like a lost puppy. 

“I didn’t think it was that hard- are you okay.” 

You laughed not handling the embarrassment of the situation well, “I am so good actually.” You went to stand up but stumbled before your legs gave out putting you back on the floor. 

Hazel tried to grab at your hand to help you up but you retracted your hand on instinct. “Hold my hand.” 

“Absolutely not.” 

Silvie barked out a laugh- “damn rejected!”

Hazel looked at you- her big blue eyes filling with hurt. Fuck. You didn't want to have to see those sad puppy dog eyes. You took hold of her hand and let her pull you up. If you thought the world was spinning when you were sitting, now it was like you were on a tilt-a-whirl. “Shit.” you couldn't keep yourself upright and leaned into Hazel so you didn't fall back to the ground. 

“Uh- I’m gonna take her to get some water.” Hazel sounded very concerned but you giggled. This was so embarrassing. Not only were you weak in front of your enemy- but also your crush. “Oh my god, I think I broke her!” 

PJ scoffed, “You just gave her like a concussion- she’ll be fine.” You nodded to agree with PJ. 

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god…” Hazel mumbled as she walked you out of the gym.

“I’m so so sorry.” She continued to apologize to all the girl's bathrooms where she propped you against a sink. “I didn’t think I was that strong.” She gathered some paper towels and got them wet, dabbing them to your forehead. 

In all honesty, you feel fine now. The dizziness was gone and replaced with a dull ache. But you were kinda enjoying Hazel being all over you. 

“It’s fine. Don't worry about it.” 

“If you want to hit me I get it- I deserve it.”

You laughed, “Yeah you can say that again.” You needed to practice biting your damn tongue. 

“I’m so sorry- I can’t believe I did that- I always do something stupid around you. I didn’t mean to hit you that hard- I just can’t like to focus with you around and I’m sorry-” Hazel continued to ramble and you started to zone out a little before saying the only thing running through your mind. 

“You stole my table”

Hazel stopped talking and looked at you. “No, I didn’t”

“Yes, you did.”

“What are you talking about? I’ve never stolen anything let alone a table- I don’t even know where I would’ve put-”

“No Hazel, my seat. In the lunch room.” 

She just stared at you and blinked. 

“You stole my spot- where I have sat every day for the last and you spilled coffee on my backpack and hit me in the face with volleyballs and… and… and now you gave me a concussion with your fists.” 

Hazel groaned and moved away from you holding her face in her hands, “Oh my god you must think I hate you.”

“Well yeah!” 

Hazel just groaned again. “I just like you.” 

“Oh yeah sure- wait- what did you just say?”

“I just like you okay,” She kicks the floor and starts to pout, “You’re just like really cool and like always around and you make me nervous.” 

“Oh my god.” 

“I know- i’m sorry- I knew you hated me cause of all that stuff”

“Oh my god-”

Hazel made more inhuman nosies as you started to laugh.

“Hazel what the actual fuck- you like me? You like me? For how long?” 

Hazel stopped with the noises “I don’t know? Like freshman year? Why?” 

“Despite all of the mishaps, and how much they pissed me off- I could not stop crushing on you… since freshman year.” 

Hazels jaw literally dropped, “What, no way?” 

“Yes way. Why didnt you just like talk to me?” 

“Well everytime I did I would somehow manage you hurt you.” 

You shook your head and laughed lighty, “thats actually fair, I can’t blame you for that.” 

She cracked a bit of a smile, relief from the last few seconds flooding over the both of you. 

“This is crazy.” 

You laughed, “it is. And to think all it took was you punching me to the ground.” 

She groaned, “god I really am sorry-”

“It’s fine- definitely worth it.” 

She smiled, “now what?” 

You shrugged, “I don’t know- we’ve wasted almost four years it seems like so theres no point in wasting any more.” 

She gave you a dopey look and figeted with the rings on her fingers.

“Hazel come here.” She followed your instructions obditally and stood in front of you- close enough that you could feel the gentle wind of her breath. 

You placed your hands on her shoulders, not entirely sure the right way to go about this- and maybe this was moving a bit fast and the common sense had gotten knocked out of your head but at this point you were kicking yourself for not making a move over the entrieity of your highschool career. 

Her eyes were open, glued to your lips. 

“Gotta start making up for all that lost time.” you leaned forward, barley brushing your lips together, when you pulled back Hazel stood completely still with her eyes shut tight. You smiled to yourself. “Do you want to..” Hazel keep her eyes shut but nodded. 

You leaned again, this time trying to add in some movement. It was painfully obvious that neither of you really knew what you were doing. Hazel seemed to have a sudden surge in confidence after accidentally (maybe?) bitting your lower lip which drew some type of sound from you. She stepped forward, pushing you aagint the bathroom sink and putting the two of you in a much more intainte position. 

Despite the awkwardness and surprise, it felt nice- or good? Something like that. You stopped anazlying everything and instead focused on the fact that their was a very attractive girl running her hands down your back and letting your shirt cover her finger tips as she explored you. 

The second you started to thank whatever god was a above that it was after school hours so the building was essentially vacant- the door brust open, followed by two very loud “fuck”s. 

Hazel rushed back away from you, her face already blushing a bright pink. 

PJ and Josie stood in the doorway- matching faces of shock painting their features. 

“No fucking way Hazel is getting puss before us.” PJ rolled her eyes. 

“Uh- sorry we just uh- you know- wanted to make sure you were good.” Josie was doing a horrible job hiding her uncomforatbleness as she questioned you with a thumbs up. 

You bit your lip to stop from laughing and gave her a thumbs up back, “Doing great in here. Thanks- but if you wouldn’t mind leaving-”

“Oh yeah! Yeah! For sure- we’ll let you two lovebirds get back to it.” Josie did a half bow before turning and pushing PJ out the door. 

You laughed as hazel just looked mortified, “we’ll continue this later, I think we should get back to the club though- kinda wanna see you lay some bitchs out.” 

She took a deep breath and patted down her shirt, before looking in the mirror and fixing her hair. 

You gave her another thumbs up before the two of you left the bathroom to go back to the gym. 

----------------------------------------------

Send me requests please 🙈

[linkuei-scum-without-s]

First time posting a headcanon so I'm kinda nervous but I'm give it a shot ( BTW ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE )

So I got a random headcanon about the lin kuei bros ! But Cats AU :D

Okay okay imagine living in a house with a three Cats you just found them homeless on the street and feel sorry for them so you took them in ... Orange cat, Gray cat and a black cat in your house

And if you're going to ask me how did all turn into a cats... Then the answer is Shang Tsung... Don't ask how ... It's just Shang Tsung that mf turned them into a cats ... Maybe just to laugh at them....

Anyways living with the Lin Kuei cats it's the best thing!! If you manage to gain their trust ..... Only with Tomas and Kuai tho.. You don't wanna get near Bi-han... Trust me... This bitch would give you a new scrach everyday... He's the kind of the bratty cat

Hiss 24/7 when every you get closer to him

Sometimes attack you and you'll have either Tomas or Kuai trying to stop him... Or both of them by pulling him from his tail....

Man he's a cat with trust issues so it's gonna take a while until you gain his trust

But to be honest... I believe Tomas would be the first one would Trust you... After seeing you how you're so caring to all of them... Even his brat older brother

He will be the type to be a clingy cat that's how I imagine him

When ever you sit down expect him in less then a second to be on your lap.... (HE'S SO ADORABLE KWHWKWJEJ)

Also whenever Bi-han give you a new scratch Tomas would be the one treating it... By licking it.... He's trying to apologizing instead of his bro

Like "I Apologize for my brother action.... He's just like this all the time... Here let me treat your wounds! " but in cats language...

Tomas is loves cuddles as well whenever you go to bed he'll climb up next to you and sleep

He's so wholesome

As for Kuai Liang... He's a calm cat... When you first let them in... He won't do anything just watching you around...

He's believe in 'Action speaks Louder then words' so he'll only trust you by you're action... And since you are so caring about them... And can take his Older brother's behavior he can tell you're a nice person so he will trust you a little... Still calm tho

Likes to sit besides you if you were watching TV or reading a book whatever you're doing he'll sit next to you... Either sleep or watching what are you doing

Btw when you go to bed he will be sleeping next to your head... He loves your hair... He think it's soft so sometimes when you woke up you'll find him sleeping on it like a pillow .... If you have a short hair he will be leaning on your head

He will try to convince his brother that you're harmless and never meant to hurt them but it's not working... Bi-han thinks if he give you a little cance you might going to stop him on his back or betrayed him...

Man the last time you were trying to wash them all.... It went well with Kuai and Tomas they both let you wash them peaceful.. Somehow Tomas was playful in the water and it got you confused actually for both of them... Them were so calm for cats begin in the water.... You didn't think about you just that's they might have got used to water somehow... Or they are a special cat who would give no pain in the ass to their owner when they are washing them

Anyways after finish the and dry them off you turn you're head to the last target .. Bi-Han ... man if you Know anime JJBA you will know what I mean when I say the fight you just had with bi-Han is the same fight between Jotaro and Dio trust Man and all of this happens while trying to get him into the bath top... You got.. A lot of scratches A few were on your face as well not only a just scars you have got but you had too chase him around the whole house whenever you get closer to him will attack you and hiss so good luck with washing him...

But if you manage to gain his trust (and it's a hard challenge trust me) he will be less aggressive ... Might even let you pet him (he will try so hard not to purr) doesn't attack you anymore... But he will always be cold with you...it's just his way of showing he trust you btw at rare times you'll find him sleeping next to you on the bed.... All the time he prefers to sleep alone

This is so random I just wanted to make some headcanons but always so nervous to post it but right now I decided to give it a shot.... Plz don't hate me of you don't like it ;-;

[a1307s]

So Pretty

(Wally West Smut)

[Art is not mine. Credit to unknown]

Requested by: dogma0325

Keys:

Y/N - Your Name

N/N - Nick Name

Word Count: 3110

Warning and/or Pre-notes:

Pervert/Slight Assault

Degrading

Name Calling: Desperate, Bitch, Bimbo, Slut, Good Girl

Choking

Face Slapping

Rough Domination/Submission

Hair Pulling

Scratching

Creampie

——————————————————————

"Mmhmm," I hum around my wine glass, keeping my eyes locked on the man in front of me. He's older - probably old enough to be Oliver's father - but he's one of the 'power houses' Ollie wants to partner with to further Queen Industries.

The grandpa continues on about the new what-cha-ma-call-it as his hand slides onto my knee. It might be anti-feminist of me to flirt and "show off" my body to gain partnerships but it's so much easier than pretending to care about what he's talking about. "I think Mr. Queen would be interested in it, don't you Miss Harper?" He asks, inching his hand further up the split of my dress.

"I think Ollie would be very interested. Would you like me to call him over?" I ask, sending not so secretive bedroom eyes over his way.

It doesn't take a genius to notice the way the man squirms in his seat before deciding standing would be an easier way to hide his arousal. "No, no, no. I shall walk you back over to Mr. Queen. What kind of man would I be having you beckon him over?" He asks, gently picking up my hand and kissing my knuckles.

Shivers run through me, followed by a wave of nauseousness. I quickly shove the feelings down and replace them with a smile. "How sweet," I offer up, trying to loosen my jaw, "Queen Industrials definitely could use more honorable men like you".

This brings a smile to the creeps face which is quickly hidden away with more kisses laid up my hand and across my wrist. When my nervous can't take anymore I stand up and turn to head toward the group of people surrounding Oliver. Creepy McCreep follows, placing a hand on my back that quickly descends down to grab a hand full of my ass as we walk across the ballroom.

"Y/N!" Wally - one of my older brother's friends - chirps out as we near the group. His eyes are a dark green - partly cause of the booze in his system and partly not. "I've been meaning to sneak over and say hi," He continues, making swift moves to place himself between McCreep and me.

Wally's arm wraps around my waist as he leans over to kiss my cheek. As he's pulling away, he stops for a beat to whisper in my ear, "Pretty pathetic of you to open your legs for a man like that".

My eyes glance over at Roy to see if he noticed but he - and Oliver - are too occupied with McCreep to notice Wally's words.

The speedster's arm stays on my waist, his finger tips digging into my hip as his mouth stays put by my ear. "I know I've been preoccupied with the whole hero gig but I didn't think you'd go pimping yourself out. Are you that desperate?"

"I'm not desperate," I bite back, keeping my voice low as well. For the past couple months Wally and me have been.... Friends with benefits, which has really gone to his head, especially in the bedroom.

"Seems like you are," Wally murmurs, softly sliding his fingertips just far enough under my dress to dig them into my inner thigh. "I thought we had an understanding N/N. I thought I made it clear that you - that your body, belongs to me".

"And I thought I made it clear that I'm not your girlfriend, Wally," I shoot back, still keeping my tone hushed.

"Get your ass upstairs. Now," Wally growls in my ear before letting go of me and standing up straight again.

"And if I don't?" I breathe out, tilting my head back to look up at Wally.

He tilts his head back down, his lips making butterfly touches to my ear as he talks. "If you don't, I'll bend you over the bar and let big brother dearest and Mr. Perv watch as I bruise you inside and out,".

I'm left to register Wally's words as he slips out from the group of high class Starr City citizens and walks out of the ballroom.

"Where's Wally going?" Roy asks, shimming into his friend's previous spot.

"Uh... Dick called?" I push out, making it more of a question than a statement. "I don't know, I couldn't really hear him,".

Roy thinks it over for a moment before shrugging it off and turning back towards the conversation. "Roy?" I ask, getting a hum as an answer. "I think I'm going to head to bed for the night".

"Okay, goodnight Y/N," Roy says back, giving me a side hug before I walk out of the group as well, quick to follow Wally's previous exit route.

My heart rate picks up as I climb up the stairs, heading towards my room where a very upset Wally awaits me. I slowly walk down the hallway, my heels echoing along the narrow space.

"Wally?" I call softly, pushing my bedroom door open before walking in. My nightstand light is on, eliminating Wally and making his red hair stand out against the green fabrics of the room. The air is thick with all of the speedster's emotions: Jealousy, anger, and arousal.

"Come here," Wally demands, his voice low, almost a growl as the words come out.

"No," I whisper, pushing my back to the door, causing it to latch close. Wally snaps up to his feet and takes quick paces toward me.

Before I can think, his body is pressed against mine, trapping me against the door. His hand is rough and heavy against my throat as he forces my head back to look at him. Wally's eyes are dark, almost black instead of his normal green color.

"I've had enough of you today. You've been prancing around pretty much naked making blow job eyes at every rich man that walks in. Do you know what that makes you look like? It makes you look like a desperate little bitch. Are you a desperate bitch? Are you Y/N?" Wally continually repeats the last two sentences, getting more and more in my face each time. As he repeats himself, he tightens his grasp on my neck so I can't answer him back.

"Aww, is the poor baby Harper struggling to answer me? Maybe if you weren't blowing every one of daddy's partners your throat would work, hmm?" Wally taunts, using his free hand to hoist up the skirt of my dress. His fingertips ghost over my clothed pussy before settling on the waist band of my panties.

Tears start to prickle my eyes as I gasp for air. My hands wrap around Wally's wrist, digging my nails into his arm to try and get him to loosen his grip. "P... ple... please?" I manage to get out between gasps.

Wally's eyes are hard, filled to the brim with jealousy as he looks at me. "Fine," He mumbles, releasing me. From the lack of oxygen, my balance is off when he lets go, causing me to fall to my knees at his feet. "Good, that's where spoiled bimbos like you belong," Wally adds, leaning down to grab my face with one of his hands.

My breath is heavy and tears continue to trickle down, rolling over his fingers as he squishes my cheeks. "You look so pretty," Wally says gently, his eyes softening just for a moment. "But that isn't an excuse for you to act like a free use slut at the gala." The words come out sharp, adding to the pool that's been forming between my thighs since I entered the room. "Is that what you want? To be treated like a free use slut? To be used where ever and whenever men want? Without you getting a say?"

"No," I whimper, grabbing at Wally's dress shirt. The material feels smooth and warm under my finger tips. "I don't want other men to use me. I only want you to use me," The words come out in a rush, sounding more like pleas than an answer.

This seems to satisfy Wally, getting me a rewarding soft kiss to my lips. "Don't worry N/N, I'll use you. By the time I'm done with you the only thing that'll be left in this empty little head of yours will be my name," He says, softly shaking my head through the last half of his sentence.

Wally releases my face, leaving me a mess on the floor as he walks back over to my bed. He plants himself on the edge of it, eyes locked on me as I stay kneeled on the floor, unable to stop tears from falling. "Come on baby, I haven't even been that mean to you," Wally says, patting his thigh to beckon me forward, adding a soft smile to his face to encourage me to obey.

I listen, crawling across the room to kneel between his legs. "You are so pretty baby," He says again, wrapping his fingers around my neck and leaning down to lick the tears off my cheeks. "So, so pretty,".

Soon the licks turn to soft kisses that end in a gentle kiss to my lips. When he parts from me, he continues littering butterfly kisses across my cheeks. His fingers are light this time, not the tight, oxygen stopping hold from before. "It makes me so sad when I have to correct your bad behavior,".

"It doesn't seem like it," I whisper out, closing my eyes to soak in the gentleness I'm receiving from the speedster.

In a split second the soft kisses are replaced by a slap across my face. My cheek stings as tears start to prickle at my eyes again. "You just can't stop while you're ahead can you?" Wally asks, forcibly turning my head so I'm looking at him again. "What am I gonna do with you little Harper?" He asks, rubbing his thumb across my cheek, causing the stinging to continue.

"Is it really that hard for you to keep your legs closed? Is it so hard for you to be grateful that I'm willing to correct your behaviors? Maybe I'm wasting my time," Wally mumbles the last part, letting go of my face and standing up.

"Please stay," I whine, wrapping my fingers around Wally's belt. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," I continue, burying my head in Wally's stomach.

"You're sorry for what?" He asks, fisting my hair in his hand to tilt my head back.

Wally looking down on me makes more shock waves ripple through me. I rub my thighs together, wiggling my fingers closer to the latch of his belt. "I'm sorry... for... for acting... desperate. I'm sorry for acting... like... like a spoiled bimbo," my voice weavers and my hands shake as I undo his belt.

In approval, Wally loosens his grasp on my hair but doesn't completely let go. His eyes stay locked on mine as I undo his pants and slowly pull his penis out of his boxers. I rest my hands on his thighs before leaning down, my hair pulling as I wrap my mouth around Wally's tip. I bob my head a couple times but can't get further down because of the grasp he still holds on my hair. "Nope," Wally says, using my hair to yank me back from his erection.

"No?" I whine, snaking my hands from his legs towards his cock.

"No," He repeats, using my hair to pull me to my feet before I can touch him again. He takes a second to admire me. My head pulled back by my hair, my legs shaking and covered in my own juices. "Strip," Wally says, letting go of my hair and sitting back down on the edge of my bed.

I obey, kicking off my heels before slowly peeling my dress off of myself. His eyes pierce into me, watching me shimmy out of my panties and unclasping my bra. I stand there, waiting for Wally's next command as his eyes rake over my body. "Can you please take your shirt off?" I whine, taking a cautious stop forward and sliding my hands under his suit jacket.

Wally fulfills my request, shrugging off his jacket before unbuttoning and sliding out of his dress shirt. "Thank you," I say, resting my hands on his shoulders.

He ignores me, grabbing my thighs and spreading my legs apart. "You really are a desperate little thing, aren't you?" He asks, bending his head down to lick the mess off my thighs.

"For you, yes" I breathe out, tangling my fingers in his hair. His tongue feels teasing, running over my thighs and getting close but not close enough to my pussy. "Please?" I beg as my legs continue to shake.

"Why should I?" Wally asks, removing his head from my thighs, replacing it with ghostly finger tips just barely grazing my folds. "You don't deserve it".

I don't answer him, and instead whine and tug on the ends of his hair. Wally planting a kiss on my stomach before pulling me on his lap. His dick is hard and warm pressed up against my thigh, causing me to be even needier. His eyes are softer now, some of the green coming back to them. "You are a needy little thing. Are you needy baby?" Wally asks before sinking his teeth into my shoulder.

His teeth hurt as he bites down, pulling out whines and mews from me. "Please?" I ask, tugging at his pants.

"Please what?" He asks, running his tongue over the bite mark, causing extra stinging sensations.

"Please fuck me. Please fuck my pussy. Please?" I beg, dragging out the last word.

"If it's your pussy, you can fuck it," Wally tells me, moving his hips so the head of his penis is pressed against my clit. He slowly moves his hips, giving me the minimum friction possible.

     I cling to his shoulders, digging my nails into his skin and burying my head in his neck. "It's your pussy, Wally. Please just touch me. Please?"

     A gentle hum comes from Wally, followed by his hand back in my hair and new vibrations being sent from his dick to my clit. "Are you sure it's mine? Seems like you were prancing it around and offering it up to everyone a little while ago".

     "It's... it's yours," I wheeze out, slightly dragging my nails down his shoulder from the new added friction.

     Wally doesn't reply. Instead he teases me by constantly changing the pace of the vibrations between my legs. His eyes stay lock on me, constantly raking across my body. My head pulled by back him, strands of loss hair clinging to the forming sweat on me. My arms wrapped around his shoulders with my fingernails constantly moving across his back and leaving my own marks on him. My legs trembling as juices spill out and coat my thighs along with Wally's pants.

     The tightness in my groin is seconds away from snapping when Wally stops and lets go of me. I whine at the sudden loss of my orgasm and tight my grip, causing myself to get closed to him. The head of his penis pokes teasingly at the rim of my opening.

     Wally's hand meets my bare waist before his lips met my collar bone. He sucks on it, sure to leave a bruise to form. "Are you going to be good? Are you going to behave and spread yourself out for me?"

     "Yes," I answer back, trying to scoot forward but unable to from the strong hold on my waist. "Please?" I whimper, sliding my hands from Wally's back to gentle tug on the ends of his hair.

Wally lifts me up as he stands. He's gentle when he lays me in the bed. When my back makes contact with my sheets, I let my legs fall open and put myself on display. A pleased hum comes from my partner as he drops his remaining clothes.

"So pretty," Wally purrs as he climbs between my legs. His hands are soft and slow as he rubs my inner thighs, kisses chasing after his finger tips. Wally weavers for a second at the end of my thighs before placing a teasing kiss to my clit. The kisses trail up my stomach towards my chest as he realigns himself with my hole. As the kisses climb up my chest towards my neck, Wally painfully slowly inches himself in me.

I whimper, wrapping my arms around his back again. "Wally," I whine, trying to push him further in me.

"Be patient," He whispers against my skin as his hands secure themselves to my hips. His pace stays slow as he continues littering kisses over my body.

"You're being so good for me," Wally says, starting to pick up his pace. My nails dig into his shoulder blades again as I slide my legs around his torso. His hands slide down to my thighs to hold me in place. "Whose pussy is this?" Wally asks, locking his eyes with me as he pounds into me.

I whine, sliding my hands to the nape of his neck and grasp the whiskers of hair that are laid there. "You", I peep out, squeezing my legs around him.

"Yes I am," He replies cockily with a big grin on his face. "Only I can make you feel this needy,". One of Wally's hands slides down from my thigh to start rubbing circles on my nerve bud. "Is my pussy going to cum for me? Is it? I bet it is with how desperate you've been," He taunts, his circles getting faster and his thrusts getting sloppy.

I opened my mouth to answer but the only thing that comes out is a moan. The knot in my stomach continues to tighten from Wally's actions. "Wally," I moan as the knot starts to unravel.

     "Good girl," He groans, "Just a couple more and then you can rest". His hands are heavy against me and my hips ache from the pace but I keep my whines of pain to myself.

As Wally said, it only takes a few more thrust before he comes undone. “Pull out,” I whine, trying to push him off of me.

“If I did I wouldn’t be able to mark you as mine.”

[petew21-blog]

Teen wolf - New Alpha

"Scott, come on we need to sort this out. There is a fight coming and you're not doing anything. We need to get everyone ready and strike first. You're the alpha. Do something!"

"No. By doing something we will provoke them for a bigger fight which means possible casualties. Don't do anything stupid Theo and wait. I know what I am doing."

"Somehow I doubt that" I left without waiting for the answer. I was pissed. He is a shitty alpha who doesn't know how to protect his pack. The wolves don't hide. And we ARE wolves.

I love my body. I love my powers. I love how fucking ripped I made my body. But the true Alpha knows when to give something up. Maybe I am not alpha now. But I sure will be soon.

I waited after dark and called Scott over to the school lockers. I lied that there was something to take care of. I said that me and him could handle it. And to not bring anyone else, that we will try to bond and bury the axe. And he believed it. What an idiot. And he calls himself Alpha.

Scott arrived ready, just as I expected. I set a trail of blood leading to showers for him to follow. He did and that gave me a chance to approach him from behind. He turned around and then I turned of the high ultrasound that paralyzed him.

"Stop! Stop this!!!"

I moved quickly. I recited the words of the spell and turned of the ultrasound.

Scott:"Are you nuts? Why the hell did you do that?!?"

Then the pain at the back of our heads started. Piercing pain that signalled the swap has started. Normal people would faint, but not us.

I closed my eyes for the last time as Theo and opened them again as Scott. Scott McCall. Scott THE ALPHA. THE ALPHA. I. AM. THE. ALPHA.

Of course I cast another sleeping spell at him after the swap to enjoy my body for the first time uninterrupted. I just took a long shower to rub it in his face. His body is great tho. Gotta get it ripped as mine. I won't live like a scrawny little bitch. I went to examine his face in the mirror. "Hmm. He's not ugly, gotta give him that. Hair looks nice. Face structure is more masculine than mine. Except the muscles. They look nice, but I'll get them to be bigger."

I heard noise in the lockers. "Ah, somebody woke up"

He was visibly confused. But by the muscle touching, hyperventilation and looking at his hands, I could tell that the reality started to hit his little head. Wait, I can't say mean stuff about him anymore. He has my gorgeous body. Maybe I could enjoy that body even though I had to give it up.

He looked at me.

"How do you like the body?" I said, smiled and gave him a little show.

Scott:"Theo?! Theo what have you done?! Fix this right now!" he was slowly getting angrier. Time to show him who the alpha is.

I pressed him against the wall. Grabbed him with one hand under his neck. The other strongly gripped my ex body's balls and squeezed.

Theo:"Now, THEO. You may not like in what situation you are. But this is not about you. This is about our whole pack. The pack is led by the ALPHA. And I am the ALPHA now. You will do as I say. Understand?"

He did not answer so I squeezed his balls more. "Yesssss. I understand."

"No, you have to say it fully. Yes I understand my alpha."

"I understand, my alpha!"

"Good. Now be a good wolf and suck your alpha's cock. You're gonna be doing that a lot, so it's time you got used to being my own little bitch. Understand?"

"Yes, my alpha"

I AM THE ALPHA

Inbox story: Can you do a swap between Scott McCall and Theo Raeken from teen wolf? ALways thought Scott was a shitty alpha, way too passive. And Theo is so dominant and hot. Would love to see Theo taking Scott's life and power while forcing the new Theo to become his btch.

Part 2: