#also people weren't wrong when they said the rolls were BAD

[lost-for-writing]

i was told "A Starstruck Odyssey" was a comedy and it is, it is, but tell me why i'm tearing up at the character's backstories. they just all feel like analogies for very real shit and i am sad about them but simultaneously laughing because the intrepid heroes are intrepid heroing

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

His Lucky Charm

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: smut, cheating

After a whole day of running errands around town, you finally had an evening to yourself. You've decided that this will be a relaxing Friday night where you'll do nothing but take a bath, wash your hair and read a book in bed to recharge your batteries.

You even told your boyfriend Miles that you needed an evening to yourself and that you would make it up to him tomorrow for skipping dinner tonight.

After a long and relaxing much-needed bath, you put on your short pajama set and started combing your wet hair. Your attention was distracted by your phone vibrating on the washing machine. You took a look at the screen only to see Charles' messages popping up.

Are you home?

I need to see you

You didn't even get to answer the message when you heard a knock on your door. You paused for a moment before heading for the door. As you walked, you looked at the time at your phone, which was already showing 11 p.m. and you knew that you definitely weren't expecting anyone else, well, except Charles apparently.

You looked through the peephole and there he was looking straight at you as if he knew you were looking.

"Charles?" You said opening the door. He was standing there with his elbows resting on the door frame and leaning inward. "What are you doing here?"

You couldn't help but get worried about him. You texted him right after the Silverstone fiasco, but he never responded. You knew he was going through it so you decided to give him some time planning to check on him when he was ready to talk about it. But he got ahead of you and came to you instead.

Charles and you have been best friends for a long time now. Best friends who were always there for each other, who always ran to each other when things got tough and, well, best friends who had sex now and then.

There was always something more than just friendship between you. Immense sexual attraction and tension that you happily enjoyed from time to time. Even when you were in a relationship with other people, it was normal and natural for you two to hook up on a weekend off. Even though it was wrong, you didn't even count it as "cheating" because it was the two of you.

But since you found a new boyfriend, Miles, things have changed a bit between the two of you. Since you've been with Miles, not once has Charles ended up in your bed. He noticed that you stopped giving him attention that he was used to so he started behaving differently towards you. He didn't like that he couldn't have you like before. He also didn't like the fact that you stopped coming to the races to support him. And what he hated most of all was that you really seemed to like that Miles guy.

"I needed to see you. Can I come in?" He pleaded with his green eyes piercing right into your soul.

"You know, you should announce yourself before you come, especially at such a late hour. Miles could've been here." You said stepping aside for him to come in.

"I texted you, didn't I?"

"Umm, yeah 30 seconds before you knocked at my door?" You rolled your eyes following him into the living room. He said nothing but threw himself onto your couch and sighed. He didn't even need to say anything to let you know he wasn't feeling himself and you felt bad for him so you asked "Do you want to talk about it? I texted you right after the race, but you never responded. I figured you needed some time for yourself."

"There's not much to talk about. Every fucking weekend for me is the weekend to forget, I'm getting sick and tired of it." He said running his fingers through his hair.

"I know the last few races weren't the result you were hoping for, but that doesn't make you a bad driver. Don't be too hard on yourself, please" You tried to comfort him placing your hand over his knee and squeezing it.

You hated to see him like this and you worried for him knowing that he had a tendency to blame himself for everything that went wrong. Every time when he’s had a bad race you were the one he came to and you managed to calm him down. But since you've been with Miles, Charles has had a lot more bad weekends, and this is the first time he's come to you for comfort.

"No, it's been too many races now. There is always something else at stake, there is a new problem every time, I don't know..I just..I can't-" His voice cracked and you didn't hesitate for a second to sit next to him and pull him into a hug.

"I'm so sorry, Charles" You rubbed his back as he kept his face buried into the crook of your neck tightening his grip around you.

"I'm so tired, y/n" He whispered letting out a deep breath.

"I know you are, but you need to keep pushing forwards. There's just simply no other choice. Giving up is not an option." You put your hand over his cheek to make him look at you. "You get up every day and try again. All the effort and pain will pay off one day, I promise. You know you're one of the best at what you do. The best for me if that means anything to you." You gently caressed his cheek with your thumb and he smiled at your last sentence taking your hand in his and bringing it over to his mouth to kiss it.

"You know what I noticed?"

"What?"

"The last time I won a race, you were there. Ever since you stopped coming my performance has dropped" He said now putting his hand on your cheek and slowly pulling your face closer to his. "Makes me think you were my lucky charm" Your heart trembled as he closed the space between your lips pressing them together.

Even though you kissed back and as much as you were glad to hear him say that, you broke the kiss pulling back and slightly pushing him away from you. "Charles..we can't..I can't"

"Y/n, please..." He took your hand pulling you back to him again. "I need you to fix me"

You got nervous because you knew where this was going so you got up and headed towards the kitchen which was connected to the living room.

You felt like you had to run because you knew Charles was your weakness which you could easily give in to, and you didn't want to do to Miles what you did to other guys with Charles. Miles was good to you and genuinely cared about you and for the first time in your life you felt guilty.

But there was no point in you running away from him because seconds later Charles was behind you with his hands on your waist pressing his chest against your back.

"I miss you, chérie" He said quietly leaning down and pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. "I need you to make everything better again" He continued moving your still wet hair to the side so he can have access to your neck. Once his lips found your neck, you threw your head back against his chest.

"Charles, we can't do this anymore.." You struggled to resist.

"Why not? It's not like we haven't done it before."

"I-it's different this time. I-I really like him." You almost felt guilty saying it in front of him, but that did nothing to stop him.

"C'mon, it's us. I need you so bad, y/n. Nobody does it like we do." He said nibbling the skin on your neck while his hands slowly slid under your t-shirt. You moaned as he grabbed your breasts running his fingertips over your nipples and grinded his already hard crotch against your ass.

You surprised yourself once again by seeing how easily he could have you whenever he wanted. You weren't proud of that, especially not now when you thought you didn't want the same thing he did. But that's just what you thought at least.

So when he whispered into your ear “C’mon, baby, make me cum” you were quick to turn around and vigorously pull his head down to kiss him.

"And what are you going to do for me, Charles? Hm?" Your fingers worked fast unbottoning his pants, pulling them down and letting them fall to the ground.

"Gonna make you cum so hard you're gonna forget all about that Miles guy."

Niether of you needed any kind on warming up. You were always so ready for each other. Your slit was dripping by his words only and his tip teasing your entrance was already covered in precum.

He pushed himself inside you with ease both of you letting out deep groans in desperation to feel more. As soon as he slid in and felt your warm walls hug him his pace quickened breathlessly thrusting into you.

Your knuckles on one of your hands turned white from how tightly you held onto the edge of the kitchen counter while your other arm was wrapped around Charles’ neck.

His eyes rolled at the sight of his cock disappearing into your pussy that was now making loud wet noises that always drove Charles crazy. He kissed you passionately bringing his hand from your hip to your cheek then down to your neck firmly gripping it making your throw your head back.

“Fuck, Charles” You panted.

“Like that, baby? Does it feel good?” He asked tightening his grip around your neck.

“Yeah, fuck, just like that.” You gasped struggling to breath now.

“I bet he can’t fuck you like this, hm?” Miles was anything but on your mind right now, but all Charles wanted to hear was that no one could make you feel the way he could. “Do you let him cum inside you?”

“Charles..”

“Answer me.” He was kind of scared to find out because he didn’t want anyone to have that privilege but him. It was his way of claiming you as his.

“No, ah-“ You cried out tightening around his cock making him curse under his breath.

“You gonna cum?” He asked looking down at you and connecting your lips after you nodded yes. “Me too, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up so good, fuuck”

A couple of more thrusts and your orgasms washed over both of you leaving you panting and moaning into each others mouth. His knees buckled and his head fell against your shoulder burying his neck into your neck as he filled you up to the brim.

When your breathing calmed down, Charles took your face between his hands and began to kiss you unusually tenderly. Once he regained strength in his legs he pulled his cock out of you hissing at the sight of his cum dripping out of you. He pulled you to him and wrapped your legs around his waist lifting you up from the counter and leading you to your room.

He gently put you down on the bed hovering over you and continuing with the tender small kisses all over your body. That was unusual for him because normally after you'd fucked he'd kiss you once or twice and you'd both fall asleep right away and in the morning you'd pretend like nothing happened the night before.

“Charles, what are you doing?” You asked quietly.

“What do you mean?” He asked laying next to you and pulling you against his body so he was facing your back as his arms hugged you tightly.

“We usually don’t do this..” You pointed out.

“Do you not like it?” He asked insecurity clear in his voice.

“No, I mean, I do like it, but it’s just not something that we do you know..”

He sighed gathering the courage to tell you what he was about to and what has been bothering him for quite some time now. “I’ve made so many mistakes in my life can’t even count them.” He paused. “One of them is not making you mine a long time ago and letting other guys have you.”

You didn't expect this confession from him and to be honest, you didn't even know how to respond to what he just told you. Some kind of inexplicable feeling appeared in your stomach that you have never felt before so you turned around to face him looking straight into his eyes with parted lips.

“Everything’s easier with you by my side” He said quietly and you were still speechless. It's not like you never thought about Charles, about you, in that kind of way, it’s just that you never wanted to initiate first and you never thought he saw as anything other than his best friend who he fucks here and there. “I hope I didn't realize that too late”

“Charles, I don’t know what to say.. I’m honestly too scared to try anything with you.”

“Do you not trust me?” He asked a little hurt by the choice of your words.

“I don’t trust us, Charles. We secretly hurt other people by doing this and I just don’t want us to hurt each other the same way. And most of all I don't want to lose you. You mean too much to me”

Even through the half-dark room, you could see that his eyes became glossy as he bit the inside of his cheek, holding back.

“When it comes to us, there would be no other people on the side, y/n. I swear, I’d never hurt you like that.” He took the palm of your hand and brought it up to his lips leaving a soft kiss over it. “Give us a chance, baby, please” He half whispered sounding almost desperate.

You kissed him calming his inner turmoil for a second. “Why does this feel so frightening? I don’t even know how to start this?” You said pulling back.

“Let’s start by not seeing other people anymore, yeah?” He said tucking the hair behind your ear as he raised himself on his elbows to be above you.

“Yeah, okay” You whispered.

“And let me start by making love to you, the way you deserve it.” He said between kisses. “To show you how much I love you, how much I always have.”

[llamagoddessofficial]

A little indulgent, venty drabble.

~~~

Your bedroom door opened. You were absolutely certain you had locked it. Alarmed, you shot up in bed, looking to the entrance to see who was intruding on you when your mood was so crushingly terrible.

It was Nightmare. He had a weird expression on his face, he looked very... calm. Calm was weird for him. He was the last person you expected to see.

... Also probably one of the last people you wanted to see.

"What're you doing?" you snapped. "Get out of my room."

His voice was low. "is everything alright?"

"Uh. Yeah." Perhaps you sounded more hostile than you needed to. You were glaring. "Everything's fine. You can go."

... His lovely cyan eye lingered on you.

...

He did not, in fact, leave. He closed the door behind him.

What the hell? Indignation coursed through you. "I'm seriously fine. Leave me alone."

"no," he said, softly.

You really really didn't have the self control for this, right now. You spent every moment of every day watching your words, taking stock of everything that left your lips, ensuring it wouldn't bother those around you even if it was at your own expense. Right now, you were fraying at the edges. You did not have the energy.

"Nightmare. Go away. I want to be alone right now."

He started walking toward you. He looked so calm. He looked like he understood exactly what was going on.

Anger flashed inside you, oil catching in a pan, it spittled and flew to your lips. You did not understand what was going on, and you didn't like feeling stupid.

"Get the fuck out of my room!"

"no."

“What the hell is your problem!?" You leaned forward, voice raising, like a cat raising its hackles. "You want to come watch me at my lowest? Point and laugh, rub it in? Real fucking mature of you.”

He didn't take the anger bait. "no." 

Stars, something was really wrong with you today, because his lidded socket and soothing voice just utterly infuriated you.

“Get out!” you yelled.

He didn't respond. He just looked like he cared.

You picked up the nearest weighted thing - your matte plastic water bottle - and threw it at him as hard as you could. He paused, but only to let the bottle literally just bounce off him... it hit his chest and thudded to the floor, rolling away plaintively.

You were probably acting more like a toddler than a grown adult human right now. But you were out of self control. Out of anything, really. Tired and cranky.

“Fuck off! Leave me alone!”

"it's okay."

What? When he started approaching again, you picked up another heavy object to throw, this time it was your bedside lamp. You were shocking yourself with your own bad behaviour. When you launched that at him, a tentacle curled in the air and caught it, setting it carefully down on the floor and not even interrupting his stride.

“Go bother someone else! I’m not a child!”

Honestly? You left that one open for him. You wanted him to make the most of the opportunity to insult you - maybe he’d say something sharp like “not a child? you sure are acting like one.” Something that would bring you back into territory you felt safe in. You didn't like the way he was looking at you, the way you were the only one yelling but he looked so empathetic and gentle. You wanted some control.

“it’s alright,” he murmured. “you can say what you need to. i know you don’t mean it.”

“What - what the fuck are you talking about?!”  

Nightmare sat beside you, cross-legged on your bed. And before you could do a thing, his extremely dexterous tentacles curled around you; and pulled you in, until you were sitting between his legs.

Oh, you were furious. You weren't even sure what you were yelling, but you were definitely yelling something. If you had been a cat raising your hackles before, now you had your claws out, you were scratching and biting and yowling. You kicked at him, you slapped at his chest, you shoved him like that would do anything.

... He didn't say a thing. His arms rested on either of his knees, and a tentacle carefully brushed your back. You kept hitting him. You ...

... You started to run out of steam. Your 'hits' on his chest became weaker, feebler, until you weren't really hitting him anymore. You were just bumping your enclosed fist against his sternum. The water bottle from before probably did more damage than you were doing now.

...

... You hiccuped.

And then you just started to bawl.

Nightmare clearly had anticipated this all along. He leaned down, face closer to your level, like he wanted you to know he was there. Your head thumped against his shoulder, where it remained, sobs wracking your entire body. He didn’t interrupt. He just let you cry - getting it all out. 

Part of you wanted to be embarrassed. Assaulting him and then wailing right there in his lap. But oh... there was something so wonderful about acting your absolute worst, and yet, not being abandoned. You worked so hard to be liked; every day, you did everything you could to be the kind of person that the people around you would enjoy. So much so that you had no idea what was left, underneath all of the personalities you'd stitched together to make a quilt people would like looking at.

Nightmare had just watched you scream at the top of your lungs, then sob with anything you had left. And yet? He was still there.

By the time your crying quietened down, his eyelight was glowing a little brighter. A little bluer. You weren’t sure what that meant.

“... I-I...” you rubbed your eyes with your sleeve as best you could. Your voice was horrendously hoarse and thin. “I didn’t... mean...”

“i know,” he said, warmly. Sitting this close, you could hear how his voice thrummed from within his chest, not really his mouth. Knowing his lecherous and borderline evil personality, you thought that basically sitting on his lap would've felt different. Risky, perhaps. Right now, it didn't - you felt comforted. The good kind of surrounded.

"I'm sorry."

“don't be. if there’s anyone who would know when anger is a cry for help, it’s me.”

You kept your head on his shoulder. "I shouldn't have hit you."

He tilted his face to you a little more. He was so close - inches away. You could feel his breathing. “honestly? i incited you, in the hopes you would. you just wanted to be angry. everyone deserves to feel angry, every now and then.”

“It doesn’t always feel like it is okay," you muttered.

"anger isn't something to be ashamed of. anger protects you. it tells you when your lines have been crossed."

"How can I be angry, without hurting people? If you were anyone else, I would've really hurt you."

"i'm afraid there's no easy answer to that, dear."

You looked up at him. “How did you know I didn't want to be left alone?”

"did you forget i can read emotions?"

Ah. True. You always forgot Nightmare wasn't just any old skeleton. He was some kind of God, wasn't he? A deity of negativity. He probably read everything going on in your mind the moment it arose.

"I kinda did, yeah."

His socket crinkled at the corner. “i felt what you wanted. heh, that, and... i know your insults well enough to know your heart wasn’t in those.”

You couldn’t help but let out a tiny watery snicker, at that. He seemed to like it. 

“... Thank you." You brought your legs up to your chest, tucking closer against him. "For... for not leaving.”

He finally put his arms around you.

“of course.”

[doestalker]

stab! | choso kamo

summary: there's a serial killer on the loose, you're invited to a halloween party, what could go wrong? spoiler: everything

ghostface!choso, smut, p in v, dub-con, little to no foreplay (sorry), dacryphilia, blood play, knife play, big dick choso, unprotected sex, a lilttle daddy kink, dirty talk, degradation,, choso puts the hot in psychotic basically.

word count: 2.7k

note: english's not my first language, sorry if there are any mistakes :) ౨ৎ this is a collab with my dear friend @nudijsmos

also on ao3

it was a really, really bad decision - going out to a halloween party when there's a serial killer out there, waiting for his new unsuspecting victim? it was a no brainer.

yet, saying no to your friends was worse than that. and that's why you agreed on attending this party in the first place.

your eyes skimmed over the news playing on your tv. a new victim of the ghostface.

ghostface.

his name was all over the news, the papers, the internet, a ghostly white screaming mask, a black cloak and the thirst for blood.

he had already killed 5 people this month, the police says that he stalks them before he goes after them, just for the thrill of the hunt.

fucking psycopath.

you turned off the tv to finish your make up in peace, only the gentle hum of a lana del rey song playing through your speaker was keeping you company inside your dorm.

you were dressed as an angel. what a cliché.

it was the easiest costume you could think of only using your clothes, a white corset, white fishnets and the tiniest white shorts that didn't even cover up half of your ass cheeks. you just had to buy the halo and the wings to match.

-

the alcohol had already started affecting you. you felt like your brain was spinning inside of your skull as you made your way into the upstairs bathroom of the fraternity hosting the party. the first thing you did upon entering was splash your face with cold water from the faucet, then you looked at your reflection.

your make up had barely smudged - thank you, waterproof make up - and your cheeks were flushed from the alcohol. what a mess, you thought.

the party wasn't so bad, but as you expected from the beginning, your friends ditched you the moment you stepped inside the house. so, there you were, alone, dressed in skimpy clothes, in a place full of drunk college students pretending not to fear the figure in black that could attack them any second. you rolled your eyes at the thought.

however, your critical thoughts about your peers were interrupted when someone entered the same bathroom where you were.

"hey, it's occupied," you said, words slurring, your tongue felt heavy on your mouth.

you looked at the intruder through the mirror's reflection. he was dressed as ghostface. you swallowed hard when you saw that white mask staring at you with his head tilted. it was clear that this was someone with a very twisted sense of humour who had dressed up as the killed from the news, even covered himself in fake blood. still, you couldn't help but feel intimidated by that ghostly figure.

"didn't you hear me? it's occupied," you said again. you were about to turn around when the figure grabbed your hair and forced you back into your original position.

you didn't know what to do, you were shocked at the audacity.

the figure shook his head.

"what? you wanna play psycho killer?" you asked with a crooked smile. maybe it was the remaining alcohol in your system, but you weren't against this roleplay.

the figure nodded.

"can i be the helpless victim?" you joked, your voice innocent and airy, looking at with your best doe eyes.

ghostface nodded again.

his hand, still holding your hair, exerted force until you were bent over the counter, your arched back lifting your half-naked ass higher, the smooth white fabric barely covering it making the masked man loose his composure.

the cold air in the room clashing with your bare skin as he got rid of the minimal clothing covering you, drawing a series of gasps from your trembling throat that sounded like music to the mysterious entity controlling you at its whim. lust filled the air, and both of your breaths were connected by the uncontrollable desire within you about what could happen next. how rough would it be, what would the next move be? despite the fear building up inside your stomach, the wet heat running down your thighs encouraged you to continue.

the tearing sound of your fishnets made you shudder, and the cold touch of his blade sent shivers down your spine. the bastard sliced your underwear. now the only thing protecting your bare pussy from his growing bulge was the fabric of his robe and his jeans. his bulge rubbed slowly against you, so slow it was torturous. the friction sending flashes of pleasure to your lower belly. you didn't want him to stop; his rhythm was lascivious enough to make the black fabric even darker with your juices.

the masked man only let out ragged breaths, although his gaze wasn't noticeable in the mirror that was reflecting the vulgar expressions on your face, inside that hood, he was savouring the obscene angle he had you on, your ass shaped like a heart from his point of view.

his gloved fingers forced their way into your mouth without warning, seeking the lubrication your saliva could provide. the combination of the black leather taste and your frothy saliva tingled your taste buds. there was a certain synchronization with the fake thrusts he made into your mouth and the friction against your cunt.

his left hand grabbed your hair and pulled hard so you could see yourself better when he caressed your pussy lips with his lubed fingers, playing with your folds, feeling how they got wetter with those sweet juices you were leaking. your mouth gaped when you felt his fingers entering your cunt so slowly it was almost cruel, making you lose the little sanity left in you. it didn't take much time until he was drilling his digits inside your gummy walls.

your whimpers were getting louder, but you were sure that the music blasting outside the bathroom was muffling the lewd sounds escaping from your mouth, so you let yourself loosen up, you were getting fingered by a stranger after all, and one dressed up as a serial killer.

the voice modifier inside his mask wasn't picking up his deep sighs, but now it was, morphing his grunts into a robotic voice. he tilted his head again, staring at your face enjoying his fingers abusing your cervix, if only you could see how his eyes darkened.

the thrusts of his fingers stopped after a few minutes, then without warning, he found his way inside you again, this time with his length. you felt your insides burn, not able to take the ridiculous size of his cock, falling apart in front of him.

"look at you, doll. who would've thought that you'd get so turned on being like this," he grunted out of breath, taking your cries as encouragement as he began the abrupt sway of his hips against your ass cheeks.

"i'm gonna show you how you're made for me, how this pussy's only made for my big fucking cock and only for my cock. you filthy little slut."

you weren't used to his moves; any trace of vanilla had disappeared the moment he exercised that cruel power over your figure. your voice was so worn out that you couldn't form a straight answer, limiting yourself to just whine and moan just like he described, like a filthy slut. he was a vulgar and obscene entity that just released your deepest and darkest desires with just the sound of his modified voice and the thrusts of his hips.

your eyelids were starting to feel heavy; you couldn't help but close your eye por a second, which earned you a hard slap on your ass-cheek that would most likely leave a mark. "don't close your eyes. look at yourself. look how much of a whore you're being to a complete stranger. what would your boyfriend say? would he like to know that a killer is filling up his girl?"

you shook your head. "no boyfriend," was the only thing you could manage to reply, your brain beginning to shut down from so much brutality and overstimulation.

"really now? then, nothing could stop me from doing this," he said, and the next thing you felt apart from his big dick inside of you, was the sharp blade on his hand piercing its way into your soft skin. the pain of his weapon cutting on the flesh of your ass mixed with the pleasure of his thrusts, melting your brain away until there was nothing left but your incoherent babbling from those emotions blending together.

his hand caressed the fresh wound before traveling to your chest, pulling down the top of your corset and staining both the fabric and your tits crimson red. the hunting knife went up to your neck and rested on your jugular, his thrusts began to speed up and you thought you could die from the way his tip was bullying your sweet spot.

a subtle bulge started to form on your lower belly, you could see through the mirror how his length reaching places no other dick had explored before.

"fuck, just look at you, you're such a mess," his groans, still robotic and modified, sounded animalistic. "i'm gonna ruin you. gonna make you cum so hard, no one other than me will fuck you this good. there's no dick out there that could abuse you like this."

your head was spinning. you were all over the place. the overstimulation and his dirty talk that sounded like a threat were bubbling up the white heat on your lower abdomen that you were oh so desperate for.

"gonna make you mine, gonna fill you up."

your body was hitting against the cold bathroom counter and your gaze showed both pleasure and fear, despite currently getting the fuck of your life, you were still uncertain of making it out alive.

you watched as his hand grabbed his mask and took off the plastic material that was keeping you from knowing who was fucking you. it wasn't enough to say he was the most attractive man you'd ever seen in your life.

straight, shoulder-length hair, tired eyes surrounded by violet shadows that revealed sleepless nights, and a striking tattoo running across his cheeks and nose bridge. his porcelain-like skin couldn't hide the rosy flush that softened his otherwise sharp and intimidating features.

his lips curled into a crooked smirk when your whines stopped upon seeing his face. "like what you see, angel?"

the deepness of his voice shook you to your core and made you weak in the knees. he didn't give you time to reply the obvious yes! your brain wanted to scream, he just grabbed your hair and pulled you into a filthy kiss, all spit and teeth and fighting tongues. you let out a tiny mewl when his teeth bit hard on your lower lip, so hard it left you with a metalic taste after he broke away from the kiss, only a thin thread of pink-ish saliva connecting your mouths.

"couldn't help myself, just want to devour those lips."

you felt like your insides were being abused by his length like you were just a toy, your belly already feeling full of him even though he was giving you lazy half-thrusts, the few moments when he decided to punish you and thrust in full made you dizzy. through the mirror, you could notice his gaze fixated on the way his cock disappeared into your warm pussy.

his hands hovered over the end of your waist, drawing invisible lines along the curves of your hips, while the most vulgar and purely depraved words were leaving those rosy, plump lips of his. you watched as his eyes rolled back into his skull whenever your pussy clenched and tightened around his cock when something he said was a little too dirty, and the way he trusted back with mouth-watering force made your eyes roll too.

you were 100% sure that the people outside the bathroom were hearing your moans now, but you couldn't help it, you were approaching your long-awaited orgasm, and you felt the white heat on your lower abdomen start to bubble up and send electricity through your nervous system. your walls were hugging his cock so tight, as if your pussy didn't want to let him go now that you were about to cum.

"fuck, look at you, you're practically swallowing me," groaned the stranger.

"'m gonna cum," you whined, furrowing your brows, focusing on getting over the edge of your climax.

he leaned over you, pressing his clothed chest to your back, he was looking into your eyes through the mirror, a wicked smirk on his face.

"yeah? gonna cum on my cock?" he mumbled into your ear, hot breath caressing your ear. when his only answer was a strangled moan, his hand grabbed you by the crown of your hair, the new angle was pushing you even more to the edge. "answer, slut, you gonna come on daddy's cock? you gonna be m'lil whore and let daddy cum inside you?"

you nodded your head, the best you could with his hard grip on your hair. "yeah, daddy, want you t'cum in me, please fill my pussy, daddy," you whimpered, almost sobbed, begging for your release.

"then cum f'me, angel."

that moment didn't take long, a couple more thrusts into you and that was it, his seed was filling you up, and at the same time, yours was coating his length, both fluids mixing inside of you, spilling out and running down your thighs. the proof of your affair staining your shorts and dripping on the floor.

then, the stranger pulled out and, without saying anything, started to zip his jeans and put on the mask again. you stopped him, not even bothering to pull up your shorts.

"what's your name?" you asked.

you didn't want to lose the opportunity of seeing him again, mind-blowing fuck or not, he was beautiful and your still-foggy mind thought he looked familiar. besides, he must go to the same college as you, given it was a frat party.

he just shook his head, a smirk still intact on his handsome face. he put on his mask and softly grabbed your face by the chin.

"ghostface."

you rolled your eyes at his joke. "well, mr. ghostface, will i ever see you again?"

his hand left your chin to travel to the loose strand of hair over your forehead, tucking it back behind your ear. "soon, angel."

and then he left, the silence after the door shut was deafening, your ears ringing and your mind spinning.

you looked at your reflection again, smudged makeup, sweaty and your hair was a mess. you turned and looked at your back through the mirror, your clothes were stained red by the fake blood he had on his cloak. your eyes traveled down to your ass, where he had cut you moments before, your cheeks were red and stained with your blood, but it looked like a superficial cut, nothing too serious.

you couldn't help but notice that he carved a 'c' on your left cheek.

-

when you finally pull yourself together and decide to leave the bathroom, the first thing you encounter is straight out of a horror movie.

a body lies on the floor, a guy slumped against the wall opposite the bathroom door, blood staining his clothes and the wall behind him. you clap a hand over your mouth, fighting the urge to vomit, unable to scream from the sheer shock.

you dash down the stairs to find your friends and alert the frat guys to call the police, but the scene in the living room is even worse.

three bodies are there. one guy and two girls. the girls are seated on the couch, almost as if the killer posed them, their blood turning the cream-colored fabric a deep crimson. the guy lies face down on the floor, his blood pooling around him.

the music continues to play, its upbeat and trendy lyrics mocking the gruesome scene.

you feel sick to your stomach, wanting to puke, cry, and scream, but you can’t. you're frozen on the last step of the stairs.

as you hear a siren in the distance and the house slowly bathes in the blue and red of police lights, your eyes lock onto a sticky note on the front door. you slowly walk over and read it.

'soon.' it said.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

a steamy enemies mattheo fic w you as the shy yet stern tutor and he keeps messing w you. maybe at the end after he passes his exams you try to stop the meetings by saying he doesn’t need a tutor anymore and he gets mad/the jealousy trope 🤤😈🛼 also what if there’s a scene where you go to a ‘dangerous’ party w the wrong crowd and he catches you there and gets mad bc he doesn’t want u around those people

I hope this works! So sorry this took so long!

Tutor

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: kissing, cussing

You and Mattheo never got along. Everyone knew that too. Insults and snarky comments were thrown at each other all the time.

So it was infuriating when McGonagall said you were his new tutor since he was struggling with some classes. You tried to get out of it, switch with another tutor, but she just said that everyone's already set up with another student and she can't change it.

Tutoring sessions were brutal. He always messed with you. Always tried getting off topic. Even jokingly flirting with you to try to derail your lesson. But you were determined to get him to study and tutor him enough to pass so you could stop these sessions. 

“How about every answer I get right, you give me a kiss?” He smiled at you.

“In your dreams, Riddle.” You rolled your eyes, but felt the heat rise to your cheeks. “Can you just focus?”

He finally just started passing his classes, his homework and test scores soaring  enough to make him start passing classes. McGonagall said you didn't have to tutor him anymore, but she recommended you did since your own scores were going up as well as you tutored him. You had enough of Mattheo and told him you weren't going to be tutoring him anymore during your last tutoring session, showing him the tricks you learned for studying and retaining information.

Oh, he was mad. He never really hated you. He liked you and never knew how to express his feelings so he became mean to you instead. He was a dumb kid when he decided that and didn't know how to change it and make you like him, even as a friend. These tutoring sessions were making his feelings grow. He thought it'd be a perfect time to find out more about you, asking you questions about yourself, trying to change the topic to something more fun to hear you talk about something other than school, even flirting with you to try to change your view of him and see if he could fluster you.

So when you told him that you were done with tutoring him, he was upset. Moreso at himself than you. He was upset that he didn't seem to get you to change your view of him. He was upset he tried so hard, he passed enough to not need you to tutor him anymore. He was upset that he decided to be an ass to you at the beginning of your relationship so you'd always have a bad view of him.

“What do you mean you're not tutoring me anymore?” He frowned as he sat across from you in the library.

“I mean exactly that. You're doing well enough to not need one anymore.” You shrugged.

“I'm only doing this well because of you.”

“I'm showing you how I study so you can keep doing this well. You don't need me.”

He wanted to say he does need you. Merlin, he wanted to. He wanted to see how you'd react. He even wanted to see you get all smug and tease him about needing you, but he bit his tongue.

Truth was, he really didn't need your help. He knew this stuff enough to pass with flying colors. He just never applied himself. But he thought if he did start passing because of you, you'd be impressed and happy he did so well because of you. He felt like he lost his chance to win you over once he saw you leaving the library after your last tutoring session.

Your friend invited you to a party she'd been invited to, saying it'll be fun and to think of it as celebrating successfully tutoring Mattheo and being done with him. You were reluctant but finally agreed, deciding it'd be fun to relax and let loose.

You arrived with your friend, who let you borrow one of her short dresses and a pair of heels. You both drank and danced until she was eventually pulled away by one of the guys there, leaving you alone. You were slightly tipsy, just enough to make you relaxed and slightly dizzy.

A guy approached you, you recognized him enough to know he was in Slytherin, but you never learned his name. He was about to say something when an arm wrapped around your waist from beside you.

“Hey, princess. Hope you weren't waiting on me for too long.” You recognized the voice as Mattheo and turned your head to see him smiling at you.

“What-”

“You seem a bit tired. How about we go sit down?” Something in his voice and smile was off. You nodded and he guided you away from the crowd and down a secluded hallway. “What are you doing here?” He asked as he moved to stand in front of you.

“My friend invited me.” You frowned.

“And she left you alone?” He matched your frown.

“Some guy took her to dance.”

“You're kidding. This isn't safe for you.”

“What? Why?” You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“Doesn't matter. I'll get you back to your dorm.” He said, trying to turn you back around to lead you away.

“No, tell me. If I'm in danger, then I should know why.” You said, resisting him.

He sighed, looking down the hallway before looking back at you, talking quietly. “This is for purebloods and Death Eaters, something you shouldn't get involved with. So, let me get you out of here before something happens to you.” He said, trying to guide you again and you let him this time.

“What are you doing here then?” You questioned, now sobered up from this conversation.

“My father. What do you think, Ms Know-It-All?” He teased and you rolled your eyes.

“No need to be mean.” You frowned. There was a pause as he led you out of the party and started the way to your dorm. “Why are you helping me anyways?”

“I don't hate you, you know?” He said and you turned your head to look at him again.

“You don't?” You raised an eyebrow.

“No. I never have. I'm just…” He paused trying to find the right words and you stopped walking, turning to face him as he stopped too. “I'm not good at…words-at expressing myself. I don't do well with feelings and emotions.” He sighed, looking down.

“Okay.” You spoke quietly. “So…what do you actually mean then, if you don't hate me?”

“What I mean is that…” He looked back up to meet your eyes. “I mean, I don't hate you, I…” He ran a hand through his hair, letting out another sigh. “Fuck it.” He muttered before grabbing your face gently and pressing his lips against yours. He pulled back after a few seconds, noticing your surprised expression as you still tried grasping what just happened. “Did that make sense?” He asked, hands still cupping your face.

“Um, I think so.” You said, still a little dazed.

“Let's get you back to your dorm. Maybe it'll give you time to figure it out.” He said, a small smirk playing on his lips now as he moved a hand back to your waist and started guiding you again.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl @brittney-121

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236

@demieyesore @akira1246 @queenshu

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[canihaveacalmtime]

What's the experience growing up with a playboy and a spoiled brat? You will them wear a very different personality in front of other people and take it off when you three go hangout together.

Getting related to them is already tiring enough but being their childhood friend? You must tolerate them a lot, thats how others think but in reality, you really cherish your friends as they have been there with you ever since you learn how to speak and walk.

But ever since you three enter college, they have.. changed, not a lot but it's very noticeable because they begin to avoid you. Like, avoid avoid you, they do talk and make conversation with you but right after the conversation ends, they leave immediately. Do you feel hurt or sad? Of course you do, you even start to questioning yourself what you did wrong.

Turns out you did nothing wrong, the problem isn't even because of you, it's because of them.

It's because now that the size gap between them and you have significant change with you look completely smaller than them as they now look much bigger than you. Whenever they look at you or stand next to to you, to simply put it, they can not stop their dirty minds or get those images of you looking weak on the bed off of their minds.

For you, you just kinda accept the fact that your relationship with them is probably wittering away while as for them, they are thinking about how they going to express their feelings for you because they just... can't take it anymore.

-----------

One late night, Isaac (the play boy) and Evelyn (the spoiled brat) have just returned from the bar after probably hitting up with some newcomers, what they didn't expect to see is the TV still running and a small sleeping figure laying on the couch.

"(Y/N) looks so cute when they're letting all their guards down, huh.."

Evelyn said while playing with your hair and caressing your cheeks, Isaac slowly and carefully lift you up in a bridal style, bringing you back into your room and lay you down on the bed.

"I wish we could just lock them up somewhere for ourselves."

"Wow, what a crazy thought of yours, sac. But I guess I also want to do something like that, too."

They standing there, silently, by the sleeping figure on the bed when suddenly Evelyn climbs onto your bed and start kissing you. Isaac was shocked as he stands there, dead in place until he also climbs onto the bed as he holds your back and give you some bite marks on your neck.

Feeling uncomfortable, you open your eyes and immediately make eyes contact with Evelyn, Isaac also noticed as you three just suddenly froze in place like they just got caught in a bad act and you are just.. shocked.

"Guys- what are you two d-"

You were pushed down onto the bed with both of your hands tied with a ribbon, without time to even react to what just happened, you are force kiss again but this time by Isaac as Evelyn begin playing with your nipples.

Isaac let go of the kiss and the moment he sees your face all red, tears rolling down on your cheeks and the mess he made? The urge to ruin you is never so hard to resist like now and Evelyn seems to notice the signs too as she let go of you, making you fall down on the bed due to dizziness but the moment you see them begin taking their clothes off, you knew that running is your only option left, before you can even make a run for it, you are pinned back on the bed as you look at your friends in fear, tears already falling, while they look back at you with full of lust in their eyes.

"Maybe if you weren't so naive, we'd have ruined you long ago, (nickname)."

"Don't worry, we'll be as gentle as possible."

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

"Hello." A dull thwack sound reverberated across the rooftop, leaving the boy who snuck up on Red Robin clutching his head. The boy, a meta if the large animal ears and tail were anything to go by, shook off the pain and pouted up at him, "What was that for?!"

The vigilante was unrepentant, holding his bo staff in a ready position, "You snuck up behind a vigilante at night. In Gotham."

"Okay," the meta conceded, still pouting. "You have a point there. Robin threw ninja stars at me when I tried to approach Batman."

That got Tims attention, "You tried to approach Batman? Was there something you needed?"

The kid suddenly got serious, "My mom went missing. I haven't been able to contact her for almost two weeks now."

Red pulled his arm closer to his face before he began typing on his wrist computer, "Can you tell me her name and date of birth?"

"Um." The other teen fidgetted with his tail a bit, "Okay, so...she's kinda Cheetah."

"...come again?"

"She's Cheetah. The...the supervillian."

Red Robin stared at him, and honestly who could blame him? The bats hadn't even known Cheetah had a son. "So why are you in Gotham? Why not ask Wonder Woman for help? Cheetahs one of her rogues not ours."

The teen shook his head, "She went to meet someone in Gotham before she disappeared. She seemed really agitated before she left, almost scared. I've never seen her like that before." He paused, giving the vigilante time to type before continuing, "I didn't go Wonder Woman since I figured I would wind up needing to talk to a bat anyway since its your turf and all." He said, waving a hand as if gesturing to the city around them.

"I wasn't aware Cheetah had a kid."

The meta grimaced, "she didn't until a year ago."

Red gave him a look, as if urging him to go on.

The meta chuffed, sounding a lot like whatever big cat he was supposed to be, "I'll only tell you my tragic backstory if you promise to help me find my mom."

"I'll find your mom." The bird said without an ounce of hesitation. Tim was a little offended. Did this guy think he was going to leave his mom in danger just because she was a criminal? Appearently so, seeing as the teen looked so relieved at his words.

"Okay, so my bio parents were evil mad scientists. Always a bad start, anyway they were obsessed with the occult and one day they suddenly took me and my sister to Brazil to hunt for some artifact of another. That alone was strange but weirder still was the fact my creepy godfather was paying for it all. He usually only does something like that when he's plotting "

"Plotting?" The detective interjected, "you make it sound like he does that often."

"Yeah. Hes a supervillian." The meta said casually, as if he didn't just leave Tim reeling, but the kid wasn't done yet, "He's had a massive crush on my bio mom since collage and never let it go no matter how many times she rejected him. She even married my dad, his best friend, and this dude just kept simping for 20 years." The teen rolled his eyes, "Hes convinced himself that if he murders my bio dad then my bio mom will fall in love with him and me and jazz will be "his"." He said that last part with fingerqoutes and a disgusted expression.

Tim filed that away for later, "Can I have his name, if nothing else?"

The teen seemed reluctant for a moment, "You're the worlds greatest detectives. You'll find out even if i try to hide it. Besides, I'd probably be better off if you and the Justice League know everything anyway."

Tim was...surprised by that. Most people usually weren't this open with them.

"His name is Vlad Masters, he also goes by Plasmius when he's dressed like a wannabe vampire. He's a ghost who's repossessed his corpse. My parents are Jack and Maddie Fenton, who are obsessed with ghosts and have convinced themselves that all ghosts are evil and must be destroyed, regardless of how much evidence points to them being wrong."

"And your name?"

The meta grinned at him, showing off four very sharp fangs, reminiscent of the large cat he takes after, "You can call me Jaguar. We were exploring a bit when I broke off from my family and got jumped by one of them. Suddenly I was struck by a claw and turned into furry bait. Fluffy stopped trying to make me his lunch and just stared at me before walking away, which was wierd. Then my parents found me, accused me of being a ghost, because thats naturally what someone would assume when thier son sprouts cat ears," he said while rolling his eyes.

"Naturally." Red joked, which had the benefit of making Jaguar smile.

"So my parents chased me through the jungle, shooting all the while, then suddenly a portal opened up in front of me. I'm not stupid, I know there was no way this wasn't a trap. I mean, a portal opening up right after that bizarre series of events and its the same shade of glowing green as the wierd death go my parents are obsessed with? There's no way they weren't related somhow, but I was desperate and jumped through anyway."

"I landed in another jungle, or the same one in a different location, I'm not sure. I tried hunting and foraging but wasn't very successful at either." Danny still remembered the throbbed in his head when he had headbutt that tree after missing his pounce on that pig he had been stalking. "Thats when Cheetah found me. She took me in and taught me to hunt and fight."

-----

Possible plot twists:

1. Danny isnt Phantom in this au

2. Danny is Phantom in this au but is trying to leave that life behind

3. My favorite. Danny has the ability to manipulate and control animals into doing his bidding with the effect of jaguars and other big cats being the most prevalent and he just doesn't realize it.

One of Cheetahs friends/allies realizes cheetah has changed and suspected something and convinced her to leave for a while to see if her care for this kid faded after a while away from his presence. It works and Danny loses another parental figure/possibly attacked by them too.

[dcangel]

can you do another stiles smut?

Thinking about road head with stiles...

Stiles was the one who gave you those eyes; the kind that you do a double take at from across the room when you were with the pack, already onto the third night in a row of trying to figure out the mysteries of the latest supernatural threat.

But why would you even think to question it? Right now the rest of the pack thought you two had left because you simply told them you were tired and couldn't think straight—but that might've been because stiles was occupying your mind.

You hopped in the passenger seat and thought it was going to be a quick ride to his house—his dad had yet another late night shift thanks to the disappearances that certain people seemed to know more about than others—but when you realized you weren't on those familiar roads, you started thinking. Was stiles going to take you to the lookout point that overlooked beacon hills?

Honestly, it wouldn't surprise you if he just pulled over to have you on the side of the isolated back roads. It wouldn't be the first time you two went at it in the Jeep, you just felt bad for your friends with heightened senses that might've smelt the lingering aroma.

He didn't put his hand on your thigh like usual, not until you grabbed his hand and innocently intertwined your fingers did he pull away after pressing a light kiss to the back of your hand and rest his on the exposed skin of your thigh. Innocent enough, right?

Wrong. You couldn't have been anymore wrong. It didn't take long for his fingers to slide up the smooth skin, the side of his pinky and palm rubbing your jean-clad heat. Each time his knuckle nudged you in just the right spot, your hips twitched — more like bucked.

And it took even less time for you to unbutton them, his fingers soon pumping in and out of the wetness he smiled at when he felt it through your panties. Neither of you had even said a word, just small huffs that could be separated into either a laugh or a muffled moan, of course you were the one tallying up the latter category.

His index and middle fingers curled upward in come hither motions while his other hand remained on the wheel. He would've loved to see your face; the way you chewed your bottom lip, eying his hand and the way his fingers disappeared inside you before you threw your head backward against the head rest. Good thing the road was empty, because he may or may not have driven over the double yellow lines a few times.

You noticed the way his hips shifted a bit uncomfortably, but he hadn't said anything. At first, you thought that maybe he was a little uncomfortable with you, but you somehow hadn't found the bulge he was readjusting every now and then — leaving none of his hands to steer the wheel.

You didn't want to stop his rhythmic movements, especially since you had just started to feel a little something building now, but at the same time you also got your pleasure from pleasing him. You appreciated that stiles wasn't needy in the sense that when he was pleasing you he would stop and tell you it was his turn because he couldn't wait any longer.

Instead, he never said anything about it and as far as you knew, he didn't even think about it—having said so to you multiple times before.

But that didn't mean stiles was never needy, because stiles knew how to be needy and whiny in just the right ways to get whatever he wanted from you, and you'd easily comply.

"Stiles... wanna touch you." You breathed out, unaware that these are some of the first words spoken since you two got in the Jeep together.

"You are." He pressed his fingers upward in a pulsing motion, stifling a laugh at his own humor.

You rolled your eyes, at first you started to because of his bad joke, but they rolled further back at the feeling of his fingers pressing that spot inside you. "No, just—stiles, please..?" You said in that tone. That airy, whiny tone that sounded like your every word contained a soft moan of its own; the one that had him biting the inside of his cheek as he thought about fighting it, but knowing he'd give up eventually, so he just allowed himself to cut straight to the chase.

He gave your cunt if few more quick, harsh pumps and when he pulled his fingers back for what you thought would be another one, he didn't thrust them back in. Your body missed the touch, but your mind left no time to process as you had already unbuckled and leaned partially over the center console. Your ribs leaned against the edge while your elbow propped you up.

Reaching your other hand over, you saw as stiles watched you-rather, your hand—with quick glances between the road and your dainty fingers trailing over the already-strained bulge in his jeans. When you looked up at him, he licked his lips out of nervous or anxious habit, but said nothing as he fixed his gaze on the pavement ahead.

Like stiles, you wasted no time pulled the zipper down and unbuttoning them and opening the fly. Because of his seated position and the obvious lack of ability to move due to the need to maintain at least a few rules of the road and get you both home safe, he couldn't just lift his hips like every other night and allow you pull the denim down.

Slowly, as his wriggled his hips more-albeit unintentionally-his dick had formed a tent in his boxers. You didn't have the patience for teasing or talking things slow, and judging by the sighed moan he let out when you placed a palm on his covered shaft, neither did he.

Your dainty fingers quickly reached under his boxers, finding what they wanted easily. You looked up at him, only your eyes, not tilting your head up at all. You were entranced by him, all of him. The way his brown eyes were wide and his pupils were blown with lust, the way his pale freckled skin had a reddish hue settled on it, the way his short, brown, fluffy hair started to stick to his forehead from the thin coat of sweat.

You liked his current state, but you wanted to make a mess of him. Your hand guided his length from his boxers, freeing him from the confines of the restricting fabric. Your thighs clenched, and you bit your lip.

As soon as your hand touched him, he groaned. Your hand was warm and light on his skin. He mumbled out your name as you began to slowly stroke him.

You turned your body to face him more; the front of your thighs pressing against the center console while your knees situated on the gap between the seat and the center console. Luckily for you, your hair was already tied back. You bent down and placed a kiss on his tip, your lips leaving with a small coating of wet, salty warmth from his precum. Your tongue poked out and cleaned them, also grazing his pink tip.

Stiles wasn’t sure if it was even humanly possible to focus on the road while you went down on him. The way the flat of your tongue dragged up his (almost) painfully hard cock alone was making his hips gyrate, his foot heavy on the excelerator as his lower back arched lightly.

You wrapped your lips around his swollen head, sucking gently as your tongue licked and swirled around the sensitive skin like a lollipop. Unbeknownst to you, one of his hand left the wheel and gentle wrapped around the back of your neck, finding its place from muscle memory. His thumb pressed against the corner of your jaw, right below your ear, from behind, gently coaxing your head downwards.

You complied, slowly taking him in your mouth as your saliva dripped down the rest of his length, as well as your chin. You couldn’t fully get all the way down, because, despite your gag reflex not being as bad as it used to be (thanks to stiles,) you still coughed when his tip nudged your uvula.

The vibrations made his cock twitch, his head falling back momentarily before remembering to keep his eyes on the road. Thank god it was empty tonight.

He must’ve been driving in circles around the outskirts of town, because by the time you had familiarized yourself with his dick hitting the back of your throat, stiles could’ve came right then and there. The tip of your nose nestled against the trimmed patch of curls at his base as you let yourself adjust, hoping you wouldn’t gag again.

Your tongue was flat; pressed against the side of his cock and the bottom of your mouth. Reminding yourself to breathe through your nostrils, you slowly began to move up and down.

“Fuck,” He groaned, “faster.”

You obeyed, bobbing your head up and down quicker. You felt his large hand ravel in your hair, his fingers pressing on your head when he wanted you to take him deeper.

Your eyes watered, your vision becoming blurred, but you literally could not care less. You knew stiles would flip out if he saw your misty eyes, one; because he was constantly weary of accidentally hurting you, and two; once he knew you were okay, he was covertly hooked on seeing you look up at him with glossy doe eyes.

You felt the jeep suddenly speed up, sending your head back and hitting his stomach from the acceleration.

“Shi—Sorry, fuck… just like that.” He murmured, his thumb rubbing across the nape of your neck. You pulled your lips up, leaving them around the swollen tip of his pulsing cock. You knew exactly how to drive him crazy, and he knew it too.

You kissed and licked his tip, sucking lightly in ways that made his eyes roll back and caused him to forget that he was behind the wheel.

the tires trembled on the rumble strip rooted in the double yellow lines, suggesting that the jeep had crossed to the wrong side of the road. you hummed around him at the shaking, making his fingers thread through the hair at your nape, tugging at the soft strands.

suddenly, his attention was brought back to the endangering scenario by the wail of a horn coming from another car. you jumped, letting out a small squeal on his length before reflexively lifting your head. your skull met his forearms that were outstretched in an iron grip on the wheel. his knuckles turning white while he yanked the vehicle to the right, passing the left side tires back over the double yellows. the two cars’ tires produced equal squeals on pavement as they straightened out.

scooting back, you worked your way from under his arms and mostly back into your seat, leaving his neglected cock struggling with the loss of pleasure.

“m-maybe we shouldn’t… do this on the road.” he’d paused to look to you between words.

you hastily nodded. “yeah, no.”

nevertheless, your eyes found his swollen length. “i’m definitely not leaving you like that.”

his teeth scraped at his cheek to conceal a whimper, but it left in the form of his hips shifting. “o-okay.”

[banjjjangg]

HELLOO i saw that you were taking requests and i was wondering if you could maybe do an enemies to lovers fic with kazuha or wanderer? fluff ofcourse

thankyou and i hope you have a nice day hehehe

Supposed to Hate

Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader

— Info: Oneshot + smau, modern au, highschool au, academic rivals, enemies to lovers, forced proximity(?), banter, fluff, crack.

— Sypnosis: It's tough having to constantly fight for the top place with someone as annoying as Scaramouche, your arch nemesis. But bad luck struck the both of you and you're suddenly partnered with him for a project.

Now Playing: Not Another Song About Love by Hollywood Ending. (I had a gacha phase)

Notes: timestamps don't matter, swearing

A/n: first request!! I hope this is what you wanted and have a nice day too anon (^o^)! (p.s. I'm sorry this took so long 😭)

To say that you're just rivals would be an understatement.

You and Scaramouche have always been on eachother's throats since freshman year. Why, you ask? Well you're always neck and neck when it comes to so many things, like grades, debate competitions, leader roles, higher position in the student council, and even popularity amongst students and teachers.

Your feud started when he openly insulted you. You see, competing for the top was one thing, insulting someone that you don't even know that much was another. The moment he started saying stuff like "who? Y/n? Tsk, that girl is only good at academics. In anything outside that, she's nothing." you knew you'll forever hate his guts. I mean, who is he to know what you're good at or not good at? He's barely even your acquaintance! You were just eachother schoolmates yet he has the nerve to say those thing to you? How revolting! You thought.

Oh but isn't this just a silly little competition? Well, not for the two of you. It has come to the point that you'd just openly curse and send middle fingers to eachother (without the teachers noticing of course).

.

This is why you were horrified to hear your teacher say that your partner for a huge project accumulating 20% of your grade would be him. You turned around and glanced at his table in the corner of the room and you can tell that he didn't like what he just heard either.

"But wouldn't pairing the two smartest people in class be unfair?" your seatmate whispered to you. Atleast you and Scaramouche weren't the only ones unhappy with this pairing. But did anyone object the teacher? Of course not. Unfortunately, your science teacher was very strict, and saying just one word wrong would be a one-way ticket to detention.

The class ended and now you were forced to accept the reality that you're supposed to work with Scaramouche for 20% of your grade. You notice him approach you with a small ripped up paper in his hand.

"For the girl who got 79 on math" he said, smirking, while reaching the paper in front of you.

"It's because my calculator broke, nerd." you spat back as you harshly grab the paper in his hand. You immediately went on your way out of the classroom.

What was on the paper? His number.

.

.

Day one.

You made your way to the door as soon as you hear your doorbell ring. You swiftly unlocked and opened it to see Scaramouche standing there with his backpack in hand. Before you could say anything to him, he walked past you and went inside your apartment. He placed his backpack on the couch as he sat on it himself.

"Rude." you whispered, likely to yourself.

"I heard that." he said while glaring at you.

"Good." you added, rolling your eyes as you sat on the small couch right infront of the bigger couch that he's sitting in.

The first day of working on the project was a mess. There were a lot of disagreements and arguments that happened but in the end, the two of you finally got to agree on something to work on involving the project.

.

Day two.

Thankfully, day two of working on the project was a lot more 'calmer' than day one. Yes, there were still disagreements but there were also agreements or at least more than the first day. For the sake of the project the both of you learned to somehow tolerate eachother.

.

Day three.

Once you heard your doorbell ring, you immediately went to unlock and open the door. It was Scaramouche of course, the two of you were still working on a project after all. But something seemed off about him, you can't pinpoint it, maybe it's because of his skin that's paler than usual? Or his expression that seemed tired or exhausted? You decide to shrug it off, it was none of your business.

There was still no greeting and he just went straight into your apartment to the couch where he usually sat on. You didn't comment anything because by now you were used to it.

You sat on the smaller couch right infront of the one he's sitting on. You were grabbing some materials on your backpack when suddenly—

*Cough* *cough* *cough*

You looked up from what you were doing and stared at him. He was covering his mouth with his hands, so this was what felt off.

"What?" he was glaring at you like you did something weird.

"Are you sick?"

"Is it not normal to cough every now and then?"

"It's not just that... You look..pale"

"It's none of your business" His response obviously annoyed you as you roll your eyes and continued what you were doing. He was right, it is none of your business.

But the thing is while you were working on the project he would cough, a lot, and you were getting annoyed and even concerned at what was happening to him. Once you've decided that enough is enough, you stood up and made your way to the cabinet where you keep various over the counter medicine incase you needed them. You grabbed the ones for cough and made your way back to the living room.

You reached your hand with the medicine for him to grab. He looked at it then looked at you with a 'what the fuck is this?' type of look.

"Take it, I'm being nice here." you said, insisting that he grab the medicine in your hands.

"Stop that." he said as he looks at you with suspicion.

"Stop what?"

"Being nice to me."

"Am I not allowed to be a decent human being now?"

"You're supposed to hate me." you scoff at what he just said.

You grabbed his hand and placed the medicine on top of his palm. "Literally just take the medicine." you insisted once again before going back to sit on the couch you were sitting on.

The day continued as it normally would, his coughs thankfully lessened but his annoying antics also lessened, you wouldn't complain though.

.

Day four.

This day is a bit different, because Scaramouche has been oddly nice to you. No, I don't mean that he suddenly turned overly kind, I meant the small things that he normally wouldn't do like instead of telling you to "do it yourself" whenever you ask him to pass you something or do something for you, he actually does it now. You've also noticed that he seemed less annoyed at you or at least lesser than usual.

Overall, it made him less annoying so it made things easier for the both of you. You've also taken it upon yourself to not be as annoyed at him as you usually would. All this lead to the two of you actually having a casual conversation intead of the usual "I'm only talking to you because of this stupid project" type of interactions. It was so odd and fascinating to the extent that at some point the two of you would make genuine jokes instead of sarcastic remarks. But of course it all ended with the "dang I'm supposed to hate you" realization.

But hey, maybe Scaramouche isn't that bad after all.

.

Day five.

The day of the presentation, the two you were sitting on your usual seats in class while waiting for the teacher, meanwhile, all your other classmates were double checking their projects. You heard your phones notification so you grabbed it from your pocket, it was a message from scaramouche, you turned around and glanced at him just to him on his phone while typing something.

.

Navigation

[uyuartik]

bad idea, right? (obi wan kenobi x f!reader)

tags: slightly sith coded obi wan, no use of y/n, my unhinged take on regency era, (blaming bridgerton and pride and prejudice), probably historical inaccuracies, SMUT, mentions of oral sex (fem and male receiving), mentions of fingering, piv sex, dom!obi?, i really don't know what to write here it is just filth and it is gonna get filthier

a/n: HII! so i became haunted by historical!obi au's and spent six months writing a short series... this is the first chapter out of three, so i hope you stay tuned for the upcoming one (it is FILTHIER than this and about 19k words)

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, and i can't wait to hear your opinions! i am also crossposting on ao3, feel free to interact there as well.

enjoy!!!

part one | part two | part three | ao3

word count: 5.4K

chapter one: see you tonight?

“…Fuck, just like that-“

That voice. Yes, that’s how you ended up here, you think, as you roll your hips, feeling the exquisite contours of Obi Wan’s cock stretching your walls and pulling pleasure out of every cell in your body, and possibly from your soul too.

Ehem. Lord Kenobi.

And truth be told, that’s not exactly how things led here. Of course, his rich voice and the manner in which he used it were notable factors. The way he camouflaged his remarks under sweet quips never failed to make you giggle into the next day, and regardless of the topic (ashamedly, it was mostly about the other people in the room, and their rather obscene behaviors), the comments he made always reflected the intelligence behind it. He played the serious bit perfectly too, even though his reverent sentences carried some poetry, never pompous, yet deep enough to convey its origin and the realness of his sincerity… That’s why you started spending hours with him at balls in the first place. Ten minutes alone with him, undoing all the prejudice you had against the man. All the rumors about him were proven wrong, or at least, half true. And you liked that remaining part of the truth.

Only after that, came the subject of his charms. Not quite surprising, considering that there was no lack of handsome faces around, but a lack of brains in them. Or a true heart. You hated the hypocrisy of it all, and it was a blessing to find someone who shared that sentiment. Not to mention the benefit of him deflecting any unwanted company.

Likewise, he must've thought the same about you, thus your current position. It was obvious that both of you two had similar standards, even in these lewd matters. People didn’t call him a heartbreaker because he pursued a lot of women, but when he did and it came to an inevitable end, they were the shell of whom they used to be, like a person could be mummified by the absence of the joy he charmed people with it. And you, you weren’t the type to have somebody just because you could. No, you looked for a special connection, a click, and when you got lucky and found one among the countless candidates, you treasured it. Now, even the word click sounded wanting, there were sparks present between the two of you, a considerable, good dynamic you two had built, and that made everything just better.

You were almost sad thinking this was a one-time event, already knowing this is a moment you'll remember your entire life. (You weren't gonna push your luck on getting caught.) If there were such deals, two of you keeping it to each other forever in this aspect of life, you’d have signed that contract in a blink.

“Thought you said you were tired.” He breathes out, clearly an effort, yet the smug grin on his face leaves no room for doubt or pity.

“I’ve been sitting all day.” That’s how travel works in carriages, after all. “I think stretching my legs, is what I need.” You emphasize by raising yourself higher and slowly sink back down a few times, a motion that pulls moans from both of your mouths.

Travel. It took you half a day to reach your aunt’s estate, and you were fairly certain you wouldn’t attend the ball that is currently taking place. Then, you realized there was no way your gracious hostesses would see you tonight, you were forced to enter the saloon. It would be a quick in and out, maybe greeting a few more people, no dance, with the very valid excuse of I’ve been on the road all day and I am quite exhausted ready on your lips at any interaction. This was why you didn’t even bother to put much effort into your looks, opting for a change of dress, and nothing more. No jewelry, no retouches to your hair. After all, it would just add to your part if you seemed slightly off.

Somehow, it turned out to be a regrettable decision, when numerous eyes turned to you as you took a step into the room, and even longer after that. Maybe not every head turned or the music came to an abrupt stop, the sprouting silence broken by collective whispers, but it happened, subtle yet enough to make itself known. You were given the same treatment for years at this point, but there was no getting used to it. Color that had been settling in your cheeks seemed to be permanent, at least for the night, not leaving your side as you took your place among your relatives. The expensive fan you were gifted by- God knows who, you were in no mood to remember it now, did nothing to relieve your suffering. 

And, countless other greetings don't help either. You fastened the movement of your hand, curling your lips into a forced smile. You could truly get tired from all these repeated words and gestures.

"I'm afraid I forgot to bring my dance card." You said again, to the third man who came with the same offer, Duke Caldo, all true except the part "forgot". You left it, willingly, just in front of your vanity mirror. The mirror which you desperately wanted to see yourself in right now, away from the ball. 

"A great pity." The exclamation didn't come from him, though. 

Your fan dropped from your hand and closed itself when it hit your wrist, dangling from the loop around your forearm as you heard that voice, no introduction ever needed. Perhaps, not even his voice was required, for there was always that unexplainable change in the quality of air in the rooms he occupied, like he was casting a spell on those around him, trickling magic dust with every step, a rare perfume. You wouldn’t use such metaphors if it wasn’t for the simple fact that your body always figured out his presence before your mind, catching a sense of that hypnotic essence. You often realized all the hairs on your arm standing up, or a tingling sensation in the back of your neck, breathing getting a bit harder, only to quickly locate him in your eyesight. 

"Lord Kenobi." It is said in a contemptful respect, a greeting and a goodbye. “Goodnight, my Lady.”

You didn’t even bother to mutter a proper response, and frankly, the Duke didn’t wait for one either. So, all your focus can be reserved on the man in front of you. 

You raised your arm as if intending to extend it so he could complete his small tradition of placing a kiss on the back of your hand, like he has done every time your paths crossed, even multiple times a day (that’s exactly how you noticed it was more than a simple salutation), (honestly, you liked it, his daring movement revealing a lot about his nature), only to flick it to reopen your fan. The gentlest gust of it licking your skin was more than enough now, making it all too pleasing to watch him save himself with a deep bow of his head, the annoyance quickly turning into a satisfied grin, like he didn’t expect anything less from you. 

“That looks even more beautiful in your hand.” He pointed at it, but his eyes wandered all over your body. You did the same, though there was little notice, his usual beige suit far too familiar. Your focus was always on the fact that he looked so good in it, taking in the broadness of his shoulders, or his defined arms exquisitely pronounced over the fabric.

Right. So it was his gift. Why did you ever entertain other possibilities?

You weren’t going to disappoint him by mentioning it is only here because your panicked maid accidentally packed the first item she saw, for you never took anonymous gifts. You didn’t need the attention they brought.

"And I couldn't thank you enough for it. I can practically name it my savior tonight." You answered, making a show of lavishing yourself in the stream it creates.

"My only source of pride is the fact that it perfectly blends with the rest of your attire. Now, I can proudly say I know your taste."

Classic Obi Wan. Even his compliments, far from usual, borderline scandalous. He's been peppering you with them ever since the start of your friendship and you were never immune to them. You outright enjoyed them. Especially now, they didn’t help the simmering tingles forming at the depths of your belly, amplified by weeks of solitude. “Only a part of it I’m afraid, but you’ll learn the rest in no time, don’t worry.”

“Can’t wait.” He grinned and scanned the room for prying eyes. Finding none, he made himself more comfortable by your side, hoping to spend the rest of his night with you. 

“I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” You admitted, somehow managing not to sound like you’re overly joyous of that not happening.

“I could say the same about you.” Was that excitement, or disappointment in his voice? Was he planning of politely ravishing other women, when you were not present to entertain him? Something told you those were not among his intentions, the smile on his face too honest, his twinkling gaze focused solely on you. 

You tilted your head and curled your lips. Touché. “It is nice to attend the ball your acquaintances are throwing, even if you arrive late. But for you, sir, I'm afraid people will actually think you're looking for a wife."

He rolled his eyes. There was a hint of offense in them just at the mentioning of the subject, but the playful type, not the exasperated type he uses for others. 

"Curious. The diamond of the season is also here. Isn't it strange that she still hasn't found someone, it's nearly the end of the season?" You inhaled sharply, dramatizing further. "Do you have something to do with it, Lord Kenobi?"

He scoffed, the impossibility of it reflected in his voice. "The diamond of the season?-"

"I thought you deserve nothing less." You explained, but he interjected.

"I'm only interested in one diamond." He said, initiating intense eye contact.

It was your turn to scoff, and run away from his gaze. "I was never the diamond."

"Only because you saw how better you were than the rest, and fled just before the start of the season." His eyebrows were raised, begging for a denial.

"I had planned that trip months ago." You simply stated. "And I came back halfway through summer, didn't I?"

"Just like now."

"Do I need to remind you who you have been spending time with since June?" 

"And where were you coming from tonight, ending your visit of- how long was it?"

"I am fond of traveling. Balls and banquets can entertain someone so far. " You shrugged, "Lord Kenobi, are you trying to say that you missed me?" 

"I could never claim otherwise." 

That was true from your perspective as well. All these years of constant traveling, and this year was the first time you missed what you left behind at home, even during the buzzing, pretense-filled months. None of it seemed that intolerable, and somewhat fun, if you dare to admit. You knew this impression was his doing, and now after your while spent apart, the feeling came back tenfold, almost making you squirm over such loose confessions.

That was it. That was the turning point of the night.

“Truth be told, the night is going much better than I dreamed of, and I almost regret forgetting my dance card.” You raised your chin, and sent him a look. “Would you be so kind to help me find it?” 

You could basically see the gears turning, a fire behind his eyes, fueling the desire growing in the depths of your belly. His gaze was piercing, even after he’d long decided, the truth known to both of you. Your heartbeats must’ve been visible, you imagined, and felt it skip a beat as he licked his lip. “Lead the way.”

Now that’s, how you ended up here.

However, as you look down at his face, the story gets blurry, perhaps outright loses its importance, abandoning your mind. His hair is tousled, a rebel strand in front of his eyes, and moves with every bounce. Your hands are too busy to hold onto his sweaty chest, slightly tugging on the auburn fuzz. You wanted to do that ever since he took his shirt off.

(Then again, you’re not sorry for the amount of time you couldn’t, drowning in him. The moment you felt his expert lips on yours, all your will to protest anything had died. Later, as his fingers joined the show, you quickly realized you were fine with what he gave, but he, ever the gentleman, let you prevail.)

It is a sight. And the moans that fall from his lips surpass the delicate melody the musicians are playing downstairs in every way, which can still faintly be heard. (You never thought an orchestra would accompany you during this, but here you were. It is a detail you’ll remember with a smile while looking back at it, but now, you couldn’t care any less.)

“You’re taking me so well.”  He starts to thrust his hips up slightly, meeting your rhythm, but never overtaking it.

“I know.” You giggle, but the reaction he’s taken notice of is your fingertips digging in further, and your walls fluttering around his cock.

When you start to falter a bit, perhaps due to the fatigue settling on your muscles embarrassingly not long after his words, or his mere presence clouding your brain, his fingers that have been resting on your thighs slowly ascend to your hips. The fingers drenched in your juices, another element that has the coil in your belly tighter. The next few strokes, with his guiding hand, touch something deep inside you, and your jaw hangs open.

“Fuck…” is the only word you can mutter, and he chuckles at it.

“Is that so?” He mocks, but brushes your loose ringlets with a single hand, and caresses your nipple on its way down. The latter shows his true disposition, and that drives you to be more vocal, if you weren’t already.

“You feel… so… good.” You can hardly say, as your puffy clit drag against his skin all so deliciously like this.

He twitches inside you at the compliment, and you throw your head back with a whine. Despite the fact that he would kill to see your face, he doesn’t push, enjoying the state he’s putting you in with his voice. Every praise that falls from his lips earns him a melodic moan, along with the feeling of you tensing and relaxing, always responding to his call in one way or another.

You’re one step away from being a doll at his bend, though you couldn’t care any less, not when you are this close.

He likes it, very very much. Yet, not enough to silence his wishes of how to ruin you, in the best way.

In a blink, you find yourself on your back, and him on top of you. That’s not the first thing you see, though. It is his hand, lifted from wherever it fell, catching your chin to turn your head to him. Sounds of panting are all there is, no movement, no words, not even your rapid heartbeats drumming in your ears seconds ago as if the world stopped for a second.  

His thumb caresses your lower lip, and you let it slip in. God, you can still taste yourself. The revelation has your objections at the change dead, your face twisting, yet he tsks thrice, capturing your attention.

“Let me see those eyes.” Obi Wan commands, and you have no choice but to oblige. “You look so good beneath me.” 

Somehow, his words have you flushing and squirming as if that was the most inappropriate thing happening in this room. Funny, how he breaks your will, and you let it. Against all the talk of your friendship, until an hour ago, you’d have lashed out at an equivalent demeanor, even said in affectionate terms. (Any other way is simply impossible, anyway.)  But, that hour proved itself to be much precious, and now with that glossy gaze, snatched right from the brink of climax, you focus on the doting aspect, how he cannot get enough of the image of you.

You start to writhe, the new emptiness inside you unbearable. “Touch me, Obi Wan…”

He's not proud of the way your begging has his cock leaking, though that hardly stops him. He lives for mutual pleasure, even just yours at the moment, yet you look so pretty like this, grasping the sheets. 

"Like this?" He slides his thumb further into your mouth, relishing the feeling of your tongue swirling around it immediately. Or course he wasn't expecting you to suck him off if you didn't want to, nor would he ever ask for it, he can't help but imagine the feeling, his hips rolling in seek of stimulation.

You shake your head, and his finger is freed with a pop. You frown as the sole contact you have with him is lost. It is a warning sign for him, the fragility of your dream-like state, a reminder of how he has to do better, if he wants to take control. As a gentleman, he wanted to give you everything you desired, but since it was your first time together, a terra incognita, he had to be sure of your limits, so he followed your wishes gladly. The wishes which were masterfully balanced versions of both of your needs. The same problem troubled you too of course, but you were a quick learner, a connoisseur of his taste in no time. The fact that it was very similar to yours was an exciting discovery, certainly a pleasant one, and was a great help, so great that it almost felt like cheating. While he took no issue with your tricks; the urge to take you on his terms, the compulsion to show you how he wants to cherish you couldn’t be suppressed any longer. He had to let you know.

He leans in closer, his arms bend as yours find his shoulders like a habit, “Like this?” He murmurs, right before brushing his lips against yours, effectively swallowing your whine. Though it was a sound of protest, all complementary sentiments die when he nips at your lower lip, and you open your mouth, lost in the sensation of his tongue licking yours, and his sweet essence. In contrast to his other needs taken good care of, he hadn’t taken enough of the feeling of our mouths joining. God, he spent hours imagining your mouth, curling into every shape as smart words spilled from it, enhancing his fascination with you. It fires the flames of haze further, even if he’s not actually properly touching you. Your hand roams his neck, then etches itself into his silky hair. You’ve done that a few times now (and found his response most addicting), but it is hardly satisfactory compared to the amounts you dreamed of doing during these last couple of months. You saw him prim and proper mostly, not a strand out of place, making you marvel at its excellence, and the itch to mess it up growing stronger each instance, a stark contrast to your surroundings. Also, there were times the infamous piece fell in front of his eyes, and sometimes even more disheveled than that, riding a horse, enjoying sports with his friends, and once after a bath, when your family visit started a little earlier than planned. You were always admiring the way it reflected light, creating almost a halo around his head, especially in sunlight. It is the first thing your eye is drawn to whenever you’re in the same place, a beacon of sorts. You never thought you’d be this amazed by hair, yet the moans he produces when you tug on it, add to your astonishment, and you’re not sure if you can look at it again, without being reminded of this moment.

He breaks the kiss as for you to catch your breath, for he has long kept you away from it. Still, he continues to pepper you with tons of them, scattered all across your jaw and neck, in search of that sweet spot that has you cursing. It is not a serious journey, in fact, he does more than press his lips against your skin properly, tease you with his open mouth, drag his tongue along the taut muscle, nip and outright bite, once.

“No marks-“ You protest. Futile. You should’ve warned before he started to nibble, way before he sank his teeth, but it has happened after all, and you can already feel blood settling on the sites of his attack. “What I am going to tell my maid now?”

“The truth.” He retorts. “Of how you led Lord Kenobi into our bed, and did dirty, unspeakable things with him.”

That earns him a harsh pull at his scalp, and a pat on his shoulder. He meets with your glaring gaze, and cheeks redder than a minute ago. So, he’s still on your good side. Barely.

“Apologies, my dear.” He takes the hand that smacked him, and places a peck onto your palm before placing it back. You can’t break the eye contact as he does so, something about his appearance, perhaps his position, or the charming contours of his face, or the way he deals with your anger keeps you from kicking him out. Caressing your open legs, he massages them ‘til they relax afresh, squeezing at the soft flesh. You hiss when his movement nears your inner thighs, thanks to his beard, and the climax it brought you. The gesture hints, still, there’s the matter of fire burning in your belly. “Couldn’t resist, you know me. Let me make it up to you.”

He wastes one more second to carve this image inside his head, then fulfills his promise. He likes the way you tremble while you wait, a whimper leaving your mouth at him taking his cock into his hand and stroking it a few times. God, how you wish that was your hand. Damn your stubbornness, and demand for compensation. You put extreme effort into staying still, releasing a shaky breath when he places the tip at your entrance.

Remember when he said “ruin”?

He doesn’t push it in, instead letting it slide up your slick folds, and tap against your clit. You nearly jolt at the touch, yet again tasting bliss, even if it is in mere drops. He repeats the action, and you sob, digging your nails into his shoulders. Maybe you’re the one leaving marks now, but you don’t care. Eye for an eye you can say, in retrospect.

“You’re so wet.” He can’t stop looking into your glistening core. He also can hear it, the squelching sounds echoing at his every movement. He knows you can too, that it calms your nerves, though they act up for different reasons. “All this for me?”

Unfortunately, you are late to realize he doesn’t take your moans for an answer. You can’t help it, you are unable to form words. Even if you gather the strength, they die out at your throat, especially under his piercing look. Fuck, he loves how cockdumb you’ve become for him.

He takes pity on you then, dropping his cock to briefly rest on your opening, and forces his fat tip in.

Your back arches, a throaty sound filling the room. He shushes right next to your ear, in an effort to calm you down as he slips the rest in. It is as if you’re taking him the first time, like you weren’t riding him moments ago.

“Fuck-“ That’s the only reaction, the only answer he needs. You fall back into the sheets, the first time he rolls his hips, and sets a new rhythm, a slow one to kindle the flame once more. Your hair probably getting tangled from the way it’s rubbing against the sheets, and your legs are split wide open. You feel every vein and ridge moving against your walls, the slight resistance disappearing in no time. His chest brushes against yours, and combined with the warmth of his breath, so close to yours, it’s easy to let go of your worries.

This is why you ended up here.

“Faster!” While he already feels great, it’s not the exact pattern to provide that sweet release, not in the timeframe you hoped.

“I want this to last, dear.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. A part of it due to irritation. Being subjected to that response before, he snickers to see you’re still you, even when you’re literally fucked out of your mind. As he does so, his lips skim yours. You take it, greedily, one hand first on his neck to ensure he stays, then to his unruly tress, aspiring to compel him into the middle ground. That earns you a few groans, yes, but his will doesn’t seem to falter even a little bit.

Perseverance, is a mutual quality, as you already know.

You slowly release the grip you have on his head, emphasis on slowly. It goes unnoticed, thanks to your timely bite, the same assault he once carried out. You don’t waste the access to his tongue, sucking on it. You’re not sure if his moans are increased in number, or if it feels more because you swallow every single one of them, but the fact that his beard starts to prick your cheeks harder gives you an idea.

Your free hand falls into sheets and slithers across the length of your body. Just a little more- you’re almost about to touch your –

His fingers wrap around your wrist instantly, dragging it up, a little further away from your face. You twist your neck, a wail coming out as you reject his kiss.

Only to be met by the sight of that said fingers running up your palm, and interlock themselves among yours.

Your breath hitches, for reasons unknown to you.

“Ah- ah -ah.” He tuts, though there’s not a hint of disappointment in his voice. “What kind of a gentleman would I be if I let you do all the work?”

You can’t believe one physical contact, and his words, are enough to carry you to that previous peak. Your pussy contracts around him, beyond your control, an indication of your closeness, nothing compared to before.

“Ngh- that’s it.” He encourages, “Just relax and take it.” That’s more sincerity than you’ve ever heard from him.

It goes on and on for a while, him doing exactly what he promised to do, and fulfilling his wishes in the process. He already knows this could go on ‘til morning, and he still wouldn’t be completely satisfied, longing for your presence the second he leaves the bed. Still, he continues, pushing himself to his limit, and that’s getting quite harder when you clamp on him that hard. He feels his cock leaking, begging for that sweet end.

When his arm that’s not supporting his weight travels down, caressing your hip before pressing his thumb to your clit, finally, you reward it with a whisper of his name, a sound he won’t dare to forget. Your back arches impossibly higher, and he has to lean back, abandoning his other hold.

Your limb stays in the spot he left it.

He curses at the realization, perhaps its effect mirroring yours when he first initiated the contact. Fuck, how are you so perfect? He snaps his hips harder, and circles his thumb, feeling it throb.

“Obi Wan-I’m c-“

He loves how your words are cut with the need to scream that you gulp down, only resigned to breathing as your face contorts with pleasure. “Cum for me, love.”

Your moans blend into each other, as he cannot stay still at the feeling of your walls squeezing him so tight. He holds your trembling thigh, fondling the soft flesh, adoring the way it spills from his grip. He doesn’t stop ‘til they settle again once more, and even a little longer than that, pulling out in the last minute to cover your belly with his spend. 

That act keeps you from turning to your side, and feeds the desire to hug the sheets, a soft but firm ground for your senses to return. You're not complainant of it anyways, you have a far better view in front of you, defined muscles undulating with each heavy breath, glistening due to the light coat of sweat covering them, lips puffy and slightly flushed with blood, as well as his cheeks. You always thought he was devilishly handsome, but this, this is something else. The world should consider itself lucky, or it would bend to his will just from his looks. Or unlucky, for the honor is bestowed upon a handful of people. 

He believes he's blessed with the sight upon him, too. Still holding onto your thigh, he delights in spontaneous tremors that possess it. If he looks closely, he's sure he can see the faint mark he left. Your hair is sprawled around, much in contrast to the delicate up-dos you and every noblewoman fashioned, its most natural form, and the intimacy of it definitely causes a small breakdown. You belong in a painting, depicting goddesses and nymphs, a grace outside the limits of time and culture. Your droopy lids and tired pull at the corners of your mouth fill his chest with pride and more adoration, like after his every successful attempt to elicit a reaction from you. It happens often, thanks to the understanding that grows between the two of you, but every example is still treasured in in his mind.

“Well, I don’t know any better way to spend the night.”

You giggle. “I agree.”

“We should’ve done this before.”

Your lifted brows are the perfect answer. Like it’s that easy.

But he has a point, too.

In the comfortable silence, he gets up from bed, a sigh at the roar coming from downstairs, drowning the music. That’s still going, huh? You watch as he wets the nearest towel, and returns, cleaning the mess with unexpected gentleness that it almost tickles. There’s no aim to steal one more touch at his movements, no personal gain except an easy conscience, and even that is a stretch because it’s most natural to him, his understanding of tenderness.

“Well, thank you, sir.” You sit up, with a yawn, and scooch backward to your pillows as he retreats to give himself the same treatment. “And my nightgown, please.” You point to it, and amusingly follow his subtle headshake, and efforts to hand it over. He hesitates for a second at the last minute, considering rebellion, a last joke. You see it, and snatch the fabric from his grip before he can tighten it. He can feel it sliding over his skin, the light material flying. You slip it on, aware of his voyeur. with a victorious smile cut too short as exhaustion creeps into your bones. You’re no different, in any case, settling into the fluffy pillows, curiously examining each piece of clothing he puts on from afar, the unwritten rule of his habits, his hidden glances at your mirror in a feeble pursuit to tame his messy hair. You’re willing to be charged guilty for that.

He stalls, though, you can feel it after a while, around the time sleep clouds your vision. How could anyone blame him for not wanting to leave, carve your picture to his mind, and calm his yet again straining cock at it?

“You should be going. Servants are going to be wandering these corridors for orders, soon.” Your heart winces at the warning, because he's not the type to need it, or disregard you to put you at any risk. But your cognation runs thin, and he needs to know the dangers he might face. 

"True. Right. You're correct." Is that a stutter? "Good night, my lady."

"Good night, Lord Kenobi.

"Glad to be of help in stretching your legs." 

The cushion falls short to exactly hit him, but the sentiment is clear. 

In the morning, you uncover the reasons behind his diversion. 

Bastard signed every slot in your dance card.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Can you write where Ethan as Ghostface kidnaps reader to keep her from the reveal because he loves her and doesn’t want her to get hurt but she falls in love with his masked self so he ends up revealing himself anyway

kinda had to change this a tiny bit, but still got that stockholm syndrome vibe. also I've never done this trope so this might not be great, i tried.

masterlist

“shit. it’s a trap!” chad yelled as he paced around the floor. the lights in the theater cut off cloaking the space in an ominous darkness.

arms stretching in front of you, trying to keep yourself from running into cabinets or people. your heart was hammering against your ribs, quick uneven breaths leaving your mouth. “guys? guys!” not hearing anything back from your friends.

“anyone-“ a gloved hand covered your mouth and it muffled your horrified scream. ghostface got you, you’re already dead. you tried jerking away from them as they dragged you away and further in the abandoned theater. the scratchy material of their robe rubbed at your throat and tickled your stomach.

you could feel the muscle of the stranger beneath their costume, physically telling to you that you were out matched. your harsh breathing from your nostrils filled the hallway along with two steps of footsteps. their hold was tight but not restricted, if you could just kick or swing maybe-

“i wouldn’t try anything, sweetheart.” a low voice whispered in your right ear. they didn’t have the standard ghostface tone, but it sounded like they were trying to disguise it. an involuntary shiver racked your spine and hitched your breath.

continuing in their rush to drag you away they brought both of you to a cluttered closet, sneakers bumping into fallen bottles and soft rolls of towels. practically being shoved into a metal shelf and causing a wooden broom handle to clatter noisily to the linoleum flooring.

"help! help-"

"shut up! i'm trying to save you!" your captor growled and their clunky boots carried themself into your limited space. their towering stature staring down at you through those empty black eyeholes.

"save- save me?" you stuttered, "you've been trying to kill us for a week! sam! chad! help me-" scratchy fabric covered your mouth and part of your nose causing your breathing to be short and panicked.

ghostface leaned in closer, "well you seem like the only good one so I'm being generous and deciding to spare your life. now, i have to go after your friends, but you're gonna stay here until i come back and everything will be okay." waiting for a beat before rushing out back into the light and leaving you to sub come to the dark.

did it make you a bad person, or a bad friend if you were relieved that a serial killer decided you were worth keeping alive? you'd be willing to play their little game for however long until you were ready to run free and disappear, they seemed to have a sort of liking to you. maybe an obsession, they would've been stalking you if they knew your every move and location.

it kinda made you feel a certain way. a romantic, unhinged sort of way. you've heard of people saying how their partner is obsessed with them, but having a stranger being so obsessed with you they're willing to kill everyone else to keep you...

maybe your ex's were right. you were a bit sick in the head.

you weren't sure how long you were locked in the closet. could've been ten minutes could've been an hour, but when you heard rushed footsteps outside the door and the lock turn you rushed forward and threw your arms around your kidnapper.

"let's go before the cops arrive." was all they said after a minute of your hug. your dropped your arms, but they reached for your left hand and dragged you behind. you followed like a lost puppy.

when an exit sign came into view they halted to a stop causing you to bump into their back, confused by their decision. "what's wrong?" rounding to stand in front of them, hands still locked.

"i- i have to stash the costume. don't- don't want you to see my face." they almost seemed worried, concerned about your reaction to their identity.

"hey," you stepped closer, hand reaching to caress the mask, "it's okay. i'm not gonna run. i- i want to stay with you, you saved me." voice dripping in seduction and honey. eyes doeing to further convince them of your alliance to them only.

with their free hand they gripped the chin of the mask and slowly lifted it away until to came free and you were greeted by the shocking sight of- "ethan?" his sweaty curls shading his eyes.

he didn't say anything, just bit into his bottom lip while watching you closely waiting for that inevitable switch that always happens when the killer is revealed in movies. but all he got was a creeping smile changing your face and you saying, "when we're safe i'm gonna make out with you so hard, killer." before he rushed to stripe the black robe off and you both rushed out the deserted building.

hand in hand. grinning like the psychos you are.

[xjulixred45x]

Lancelot (4Kota) with an S/o similar to Mitsuri Kanroji(KNY)...

Like, reader is probably a hybrid between human and giant, who just looks very human and so on, but has the strength of her giant relative, compressed muscle. She was probably even from some town like Benwick or even lived near the fairies.

but then she started interacting with humans and precisely because of her human appearance (very cute) they accepted her a lot. even with her colossal strength (they thought it was her magical power).

I have a idea/feeling that she would know Lancelot from his travels with Jericho at first por when he come back from his first journey, just the reader could realize his mixed descent and would constantly bug him to be her friend.

I'm not going to lie, at first Lancelot found her a little quite annoying because of her cheerfull attitude and her insistence on being friends, but when he saw her heart he could tell that she was sincere (apart from the fact that the reader would stop if it was too much for him) so he decided at least to let her be close.

reader was someone very bright! which contrasted VERY MUCH with Lancelot's serious and stoic attitude, she would talk and talk and talk to him about things that were happening in the town, something cute she saw the other day, the huge meal that the bartender served her and that she ate it all, etc

Lancelot would just sit still and listen with his typical :| face, but in reality it amuses him that reader is surprised by such everyday things.

Even if Lancelot said that the reader was "annoying" he left out actions that showed the opposite, such as showing her things he brought from his missions, showing her his "Sin" form and in general he listened to her and even gave her advice when she asked for it.

He liked having someone so sincere for so long, but he was pretty bad at saying it verbally, so he just showed it through actions. He's a tsundere kind of guy

(imagine if he gave the reader some type of garment/ornament like in that scene with Mitsuri and Obanai🥺it would be so cute).

Reader also tends to get emotional as they grow up, when she cries, she CRY A LOT, she almost scared Lancelot away when one time she came crying with him, he was ready to kill someone, but the reader had just seen a very big snake in her shed and she got scared😅 (a very common nickname of Lancelot to the reader is "cry baby" or "dork").

By the time they are teenagers, Lancelot not only tolerates the reader more, but also appreciates her a lot, not only because she sticks to him like glue, but because she is very sincere in what she thinks and says, someone he trusts will say the true.

For this reason, Lancelot is quite cautious with the people around her, even if he appreciates and loves her, he recognizes that she lacks a little understanding that not everyone is a good person, especially when she develops a certain phase of being in love.

Although Lancelot didn't spend much time in the city, he tried to give the reader "subtle" clues about which guys were worth it (almost none) and which weren't (almost all). Fortunately or unfortunately, the reader distanced herself from almost all of them except for ONE especially despicable one. But he couldn't really make her stop, so he just rolled her eyes at every mention of the boy.

Lancelot understands that the reader wants to fall in love, in the future maybe get married and start a family, but could she PLEASE stop going after guys who aren't worth it?

The breaking point occurs when THIS JERK not only rejected Reader(that was the least), but despises her for being a giant, telling her horrible things like "only a bear would marry you" and leaving the reader heartbroken.

Obviously the guy doesn't get very far, but the words cut deep into the reader, who never really saw her strength as something bad until that moment (or her big appetite, or "unfeminine" habits) and begins to wonder, is she the one wrong?

Lancelot (even though he is somewhat bad with emotions) had to interfere and not let the reader get to her head, so what if they were rare hybrids? He wouldn't change anything about how she was a reader, NOTHING, just as she wouldn't change anything about him.

It's a nice cute little moment.

If we talk about the current relationship, it is like the dynamic of "sunshine" and "sunshine protector" (better known as "if they're smile disappears YOU DISAPPEAR). or simply an odd couple. The reader tends to be gentler with him group but somewhat clumsy while Lancelot the most responsible but much less gentle...

Even if Reader knows how to fight, there is no way she can match Lancelot's level, so she is more of a rearguard fighter. It should not be taken lightly either. Believe me, Lancelot knows...

they're like:

Lancelot: someone is going to die--(reader covers his mouth with unhuman streng)

reader: OF FUN!

Lancelot and reader take full advantage of reader's ridiculous strength! either for the benefit of people (such as clearing paths or moving heavy stuck objects, for fights, etc) or for certain little jokes.

Lancelot probably encourages the reader to basically train her giant skills, just in case she has to defend the town she lives in or herself. I don't think he can teach her how to use "heavy metal" but he can definitely give some advice regarding elementary handling.

(Lancelot has been carried princess style by reader more times than the other way around, it's fun and cute to see).

Lancelot fully supports the great reader's appetite! She burns a lot of calories with her great strength, so she needs to eat a lot, if reader convinces him enough, they can compete to see who eats the most, they have a great series of ties.

when reader really fights, she's actually pretty good! Only of course, when she eventually reaches her point of greatest exhaustion, she begins to despair and thinks she is going to die😅 Lancelot tells her half jokingly/half lovingly that she is a crybaby, but that she did quite well on her own.

(by the way, only Lancelot can call the reader a crybaby, anyone else gets a hit on the back of the head).

In general, it's like the typical "opposites attract" but it's actually quite healthy✨

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[generalkenobee]

Hello lovely! Two things: 1. GOOD LUCK SHIFTING I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT. 2. Might I send in a little request? If so; Obi-Wan and Reader are both Jedi masters on the council. They just so happen to be trying to meditate together when they begin reading each other's thoughts on accident... smut ensues?

Whether you do this request or not, just know I appreciate you and everything you create -🦇 anon

Your thoughts are extremely loud

Omgggg-

I have the biggest thing for mind reading-

You're literally the sweetest

Warnings: SMUT, inappropriate use of the force, language, pnv penetration, FEM! reader, let me know if I missed anything 🩷

Obi Wan sat across from you, his breathing was level, his face was relaxed, and his thoughts we concentrated. You knew this because every once in a while you would peek your eyes open and look over to him.

"(Y/N)" he said when you opened your eyes to peek at him "sorry.." you let out a sigh. meditation was your thing! You were always so content and focused however ,you'd never done it with another member of the council

"something bothering you?" Obi Wan questioned with his eyes still closed

You've learned from past experiences that it's better to be honest with your peers, that's the Jedi way "it's just that I'm having a hard time.. relaxing I guess?"

"be cautious of your thoughts (Y/N), just because I'm here doesn't mean you can't meditate" how did he know that?

"Obi Wan! What have I told you about getting in my head? I have private things in there" You opened your eyes completely and stood up. You weren't actually that upset, more scared that he would find your hidden fantasies.

"I'm gonna go train. Meditation isn't working.. maybe swinging a lightsaber around will"

---

You faced the large rock with your ignited saber in hand thinking about what you wanted to do. You went with sokan, sokan was developed by Jedi during the great sith war..it felt right.

The glow of your (L/C) saber grazed over the rock before you yelled and ran at it with full five attacking

"Y/N), I know you're having the time of your life slashing the holy hell out of that rock, and also- why a rock? You have PLENTY of sparring partners in there"

You rolled your eyes "I need to be alone" and you did. You needed to think about all of your emotions, because you didn't want to love obi wan, you just wanted to make a legacy, a change, help people. Falling in love wasn't helpful for a jedi.

"you know talking about things like this can help"

"you don't know what's wrong so how could you help, you don't know what I think about"

"actually I do" obi wan walked over to you and you pressed the small red button on your saber to retract the blade.

"what are you talking about?"

"oh maker I want to get dicked down by him so bad right now, like for real-"

Obi Wan had said to you exactly what you thought while meditating earlier "Obi Wan.."

"I would let him do anything to me" he looked down to you and smirked "your thoughts are extremely loud"

---

The big chrome door slid shut while Obi Wan pushed you down to his bed. Your hands immediately flew up to your robes sliding them off while he did the same

"Obi Wan please.." that was all he needed to use the force. He slightly drew a long stripe from where his cock was slamming into you up to your sensitive clit

"let me in honey" and you did. Whenever a force user has sex it's amazing..you felt like Obi Wan was a part of you and you felt as you were a part of him. "Shit, s'so tight..I'm gonna" you looked up at Obi Wan with pleading eyes "m-me too..."

I KNOW THE SMUT WAS SHIRT BUT I HAVEN'T WRITTEN AN ACTUAL STORY IN A WHILE😭

[cod-sins]

Hi! :)

Can I request könig w/ a insecure chubby s/o headcanons? (If you're okay with writing that) I read your könig headcanons and this came in my mind

Have a good day!! :33

.ೃ࿐ Format: Hcs.

.ೃ࿐ Reader: Undisclosed. Fat/chubby/plus-sized.

.ೃ࿐ Ratings: SFW. NSFW UNDER CUT.

.ೃ࿐ Word Count: 725.

[A/N: Why not kill two birds with one stone? It's not just big girls he likes, it's big boys too! König likes 'em all. Also if this seems a little repetitive sorry my brain is fried and so is my laptop. P.S. My gay ass really likes cheek cupping so yall gon see a lot of that.]

König understands what it feels like to be insecure about your own body. He was the tallest boy in his class and always felt singled out by his fellow classmates. There were times were he absolutely dreaded going to school knowing he would be ridiculed and teased about how tall he was. To him it was one of the worse things he experienced so he would never want anyone to deal with that ESPECIALLY his partner.

You would stare at yourself in the mirror, constantly comparing yourself to other people you saw. You always felt as if you weren't good enough when it came to everyone else. You tried to ignore it but the feeling always kept crawling back. It would get to the point where you feel like you weren't even good enough for your own boyfriend. You began hiding your shape, wearing clothes that were double your size, and switched out your things for stuff you'd normally wear in the Winter/Fall.

König would start to pick up on this. Noticing that you started skipping meals or wearing clothes that weren't usually your type. He would gently pull you aside to find out what's wrong. Probably waiting until you were both lying in bed to ask, so you couldn't dodge his questions.

"Liebe," he said softly while repeatedly rubbing circles into your back. "is, everything alright with you?" He continued with pauses in his sentence. You mumbled out that you were fine but this answer didn't satisfy König. He pulls you up, rearranging y'alls position so that you were making direct eye contact with him. Even on his lap he still managed to hover over you.

He asks you once again with a more focused look in his eye. “Schatz, what's the matter with you? You have been acting so…different lately. You aren't yourself these past few days.” He says frowning.

Unable to hide it any longer you begin to cry into his arms, confessing that you don't feel worthy about being his partner. You tell him how you don't feel attractive and that you aren't comfortable with your body anymore. König pulls you into a hug, kissing your head while muttering “Oh Liebeling, can't you see how beautiful/handsome you are? You shouldn't hide or change any part of yourself. You are so perfect the way you are, that's why I fell in love with you in the first place.” He says solemnly while cupping your face.

To counter the way you're feeling König would start spoiling you with brand-new clothes, taking photos of you, and giving lots of attention to parts of your body. Don't like your stretch marks? He's tracing them up and down with his fingers smiling. Dislike your stomach/fat rolls, well he doesn't! It's natural and a sign that you're body is alive and you're well taken care of. Think your fat fingers are unappealing? He's already placing them on his face and gently kissing them.

König is going to make it his mission to make sure you feel good about yourself.

Even though his social anxiety is bad he would try and take you out places to flaunt you off. He wants you to know that you can come to him when you feel bad about yourself he's your boyfriend after all.

[A/N: That was the SFW now for me to be a horny degenerate with some once again mild (very self-indulgent) smut. Picking up from the crying part.]

The only time König wants to see you cry is when he's overstimulating you, so after he's done soothing you he starts kissing his favorite parts of your body starting from top to bottom. He kisses your cheek before moving down to your neck, sucking and lightly grazing it. Spending a considerable König continues to go lower and lower until you're on your back and his mouth is on your heat.

He'd spend hours down on you, sucking your dick/clit, eating your ass/pussy making sure you feel loved. He gets so much pleasure from watching your legs shake after giving him your third orgasm. You're vision is hazy and you have your hands buried in his hair. You could feel him slightly humping the bed for some form of relief.

By the time you're done you're covered in sweat and ripped lingerie. Bite marks, hickeys n bruises are speckled all over your body. König would savor this moment forever keeping a polaroid photo safely tucked away just in case he misses you too much on a mission. <3

[retrolvr4]

darry reacting to reader getting jumped by socs?

You Should See The Other Guy

Darry Curtis x Female Reader

Warnings- lots of fluff, reader gets the shit beat out of her ngl, cursing, mostly just fluff

A/n- Thank you sm for your request, I hope you enjoy! 💗 Thank you everyone for all the support

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

You were walking home from the library, you had picked up copies of books you had been wanting to read. You were eager to get home and were not paying as close of attention to your surroundings as you typically did. So you didn't give too much thought to the car approaching, until it began to slow down next to you. 

You tensed, sensing something was wrong. You knew socs and greasers had a ongoing rivalry, but you didn't consider yourself one of either, you were dating Darry and you knew he and the group his brothers hung out with were considered greasers but you didn't view any of them as less than despite the reputation that had been placed on them. 

As the window rolled down you noticed two boys about your age, they were cleanly dressed and based on their car you could assume they were from the richer side of town. 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing hanging around those curtis boys” the one driving yelled out at you. You froze, you figured he must have noticed you and Darry when you went on walks and dates together.

“She’s just whoring around with all of them” The other boy said snarkily with a laugh

You began to grow angry with their behavior, their comments about you hurt even though you knew you shouldn't let them get to you. 

“You pretentious shits waltz around town like you're better than everyone but you feed off your parents wealth. You beat up people who have been through shit you will never have to worry about a day in your life” You snapped at them “And honestly I think youre jealous because they’re more hardworking and accomplished than you ever will be” you added snarkily.

The looks of anger the two held on their faces snapped you back into the situation, you realized you had let your emotions get the best of you and you had something bad coming your way. You noticed the two moving to get out of the car and you took off as quickly as you could. You were only a few blocks away from Darry’s house but you knew you weren't going to make it in time. 

The two boys were running after you and quickly gaining on you, you held back tears and you couldn't stop thinking about if you had just shut up you might not have been in danger right now.

You let out a shriek as you felt someone grab the collar of your shirt, you choked at the forceful impact and found yourself trapped by the two boys. You frantically started swinging at them both while still trying to catch your breath from the previous impact. You felt a few of your swings land but your efforts to defend yourself had little impact as the two quickly overpowered you. You felt yourself being thrown to the ground and blow after blow hitting you in the face. You tried your best to shield yourself from the hits and kick the two off of you but you were growing weaker with each strike. 

Your vision was blurry but you could make out one of the boys standing up, you hoped they were going to leave but your hope quickly died when you felt his kicks landing on your sides. You screamed, praying that someone would hear you. You sobbed as the blows continued to land on your face, while you were also being kicked in the side. You were flailing and kicking with every bit of strength you had left, but with a final punch to your face you were knocked unconscious. 

Darry was on his way home from work when he noticed someone laying on the sidewalk, they had blood dried on them and had been beaten up badly. He picked up his pace and set into a sprint once he realized it was you. 

“Nonono honey please be okay” he said as he kneeled down beside you, you awoke when you felt him pick you up. You panicked in your dazed state, trying to jerk away from him, thinking someone was trying to hurt you again, but when you heard the comforting voice you recognized and felt his strong arms around you, you relaxed knowing he was going to help you and the nightmare of a situation would soon be over. 

You were so exhausted, you rested your head on his shoulder and fell asleep almost instantly. You finally felt relaxed but Darry was panicking as he carried you home, trying to suppress his anger, praying you were going to be okay. 

You stirred awake as you felt yourself being placed down on a couch, you opened your eyes and blinked a few times in an attempt to clear your vision. 

You saw Darry standing in front of you, ridden with concern, you heard him yell to Soda to “grab bandages and washcloths and any medical shit we have in this house”  

Despite your entire body aching in pain you croaked out “Dare, im fine im sure it looks worse than it feels” 

He shook his head and kneeled down in front of you “I thought you were dead and I know you're my tough girl but you're not fine baby” he said, trying his best to keep his tone steady but he was so worried “I’m gonna get you cleaned up then I’m going to find the people that did this” 

You felt your eyes sting with tears “no Darry it was my fault” you choked out before you began to sob “I provoked them and told them they were jealous and if I had just kept my head down they probably would’ve left me alone” you said through pained sobs. 

Darrys brows furrowed “don't you dare say this was your fault, they wanted to hurt you and you stood up for yourself and I am so proud of you” he said, his voice strained as he felt a lump growing in his throat. He hated seeing you like this and he tried so hard to protect you from getting hurt. 

Soda entered the living room his arms full of any medical supplies he could find, he froze at the sight of you “oh my god y/n” he gasped

“She's gonna be okay” Darry said, trying to comfort Soda and himself, “go throw all that shit on the bathroom counter and I’ll carry Y/n in there” 

Soda nodded and you felt yourself being carried by Darry again. He set you down on the counter, it was cold on your legs but it provided some relief to the burning pain. 

“Okay doll, I’m gonna wipe all the blood off” Darry told you in a soothing tone. You felt a washcloth dampened with warm water touch your face. You winced as Darry cleaned off parts of your face that had been scratched and bruised. He cooed out a series of comforting ‘i know’s and ‘you’re doing so good’ 

He cleaned up your arms and legs then instructed Soda (who was worriedly watching you from the doorframe) to turn around as he was going to lift your shirt up to clean your stomach and chest. 

Darry breath hitched when he saw your sides, large bruises were quickly darkening all along your sides and stomach, you knew they had kicked you but you didn't realize the extent of it. 

“Oh honey” he said under his breath 

“Dare it's okay, i know it looks bad but it only hurts a little” you replied in an attempt to ease his worries. 

“You are so strong and I promise I'm going to figure out who did this to you and beat the hell out of them” he said then placed a gentle kiss on your cheek. 

Darry placed bandages on your face, knees and elbows where you had been cut and scraped. He gave you aspirin to take, hoping it would help at least partially to ease the pain. 

He then carried you back out to the living room, setting you down on the couch once again and covering you with a blanket. He sat next to you and brought you into his embrace, allowing you to lay on his chest. He played with your hair as he told Soda that you were pretty beat up but you were going to be okay, also adding that the entire gang better be after whoever did this. 

You drifted off to sleep, finally able to fully relax, knowing that Darry had you in his embrace. 

You were stirred awake by the commotion of the rest of the boys entering the house. They had all gone to a drive in and upon seeing the sight of you nearly lost their minds. 

Everyone rushed over to you talking over one another, all frantic with concern. 

“What the hell happened” Two asked 

“Some soc’s got a hold of her and beat her up pretty bad, but she's gonna be okay, we got her all cleaned up, she's tough” Darry spoke over the commotion 

“It really doesn't hurt that bad anymore, it just looks brutal'' you said sleepily, still lying on Darry’s chest. 

“No shit, you look like hell” Dally remarked, he was so worried about you and dead set on finding whoever had done this, but he wouldn't dare show it

“You should see the other guy” you said with a small laugh 

Darry rolled his eyes at your comment but chuckled a little, grateful to hear your laugh again.

“Y/n, I know that shit hurts so bad but youre gonna have some cool scars” Johnny said with a dry laugh. He understood the pain you were experiencing and tried his absolute best to comfort you.  

“I’m gonna run over the kids that did this to you I swear” Two-bit said, you could tell he was tense but trying his best to stay calm for you.

“With what car” Steve remarked, earning a slap on the back of the head from Soda. 

“I appreciate everyone's concern and I promise I will provide a full description of the boys that did this tomorrow but right now I just want to sleep” you groaned out

“You heard her, I’m taking her to bed, try to be quiet” Darry said to the group as he stood up, quickly scooping you into his arms to carry you to his room. 

As Darry set you down on his bed you said “I really don't want to sleep in this can i wear one of your shirts to bed” 

“Of course you can” he replied back sweetly and went to grab a shirt from his drawer. 

You began to try to take your shirt off but winced in pain at the movement it required. Darry noticed this and quickly returned to you.

“Honey let me” he said to you and carefully undressed you, then slipped the shirt he had grabbed over your head. 

Darry tucked you into bed before getting under the covers next to you. He carefully brought his arms around you and brought you into his chest, he was so worried he was going to hurt you, but his gentle movements brought you no pain. You relaxed into his touch and drifted off to sleep as Darry placed gentle kisses along your jawline.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

[bellysoupset]

"Hold this," Max said, fishing out one of his many plastic bags from the glovebox and passing it to Vince. The man was leaning against Max's white pickup, more than a little pasty, with a green tinge to his complexion, his lips almost camouflaging against his skin so devoid the color they were.

"What is it for...?"

"Because you look fluorescent green," Max rolled his eyes, "puke bag."

"I'm not gonna be sick," Vince groaned, but got inside the car. He leaned back, closing his eyes and Max quickly circled the vehicle, getting inside as well.

"I beg to differ, you're one of those weird people who genuinely turn green," Max's was a little amused by how transparent Vince was, metaphorically speaking. The brunette kept his eyes closed, but frowned.

"So I've heard..." he gulped down when the car started moving and Max stole a glance at him, focusing on the drive. He hated the uncomfortable silence, Vince wasn't a quiet person and this was unnerving.

"Sooo... What's wrong, is it a bug?" Max poked his bicep and Vince sighed, opening his eyes, seeming a little annoyed Max didn't let him just sleep. The blonde shrugged to himself, Vince could be annoyed all he wanted, as long as he didn't pass out again.

When Max had barged in the classroom, the sight of Vince crumbling down to the ground had been more than a little frightening.

"No, I don't think so," Vince, in the present, said, staring out of the windshield. It took Max a second to realize he was keeping his eyes on the horizon, probably due to the nausea he was clearly feeling, even if denying it, "I didn't have time for breakfast this morning and has to skip-" he gulped down, pressing his lips in a line when a weak gag jolted him. Vince opened the bag in his lap, but didn't bring it up to his mouth, breathing slowly "skip lunch. I think it's just my blood sugar."

"You should keep some energy bars on you," Max scoffed, "aren't you an athlete? I thought your people lived on those."

"My people," Vince snorted, then groaned loudly as nausea caused his arms to get covered in goosebumps, "stop talking about food, please."

"Sorry," Max drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, feeling a stab of guilt. He was so bad at this, he had never taken care of anyone before and it showed. Hell, most days he could barely care for himself!

He also hoped Vince hadn't realized that Max didn't ask for his address, he had driven him and that friend of his home that one time at 3 AM and it was terribly embarrassing that he had memorized it.

They stopped at a red light and Max turned to look at Vince, immediately frowning, "You're shivering," he pointed out. All the windows were closed and the car felt rather stuffy, there was no way Vin was cold, "are you feverish?"

"No," Vince rubbed at at his forehead, "don't think so..? I just feel really cold..." He was pitiful to look at, white as milk and shuddering like he had just gotten out of a frozen lake. Without thinking, Max leaned in to feel his forehead, then realized what he was doing and froze with his hand mid air. Vince snorted, looking at him through his dark lashes, "you can check it, it's fine. I don't think it's a fever."

Max's ears burned and he wanted to die from embarrassment. Instead, he slammed his hand harshly against Vince's forehead, then pulled it back quickly, "yeah, you don't have a fever, you're freezing."

"Low blood sugar," Vince breathed out through his mouth as the car started moving once more, swallowing convulsively and fidgeting on his seat, "are we almost there?"

"Almost," Max sped up a little bit more, they weren't far out, "you're still feeling faint?"

Instead of answering him, Vince simply nodded, too busy taking slow breaths. He leaned forward, mouth hanging open over the bag, causing Max to cringe in sympathy.

"Almost there," he repeated, squeezing Vince's nape without thinking and leaving his hand there when the man didn't shrug him off immediately. Actually, Vince seemed weirdly welcoming of the touch, something that shouldn't surprise Max given Monacelli had been all over him when he was sick, but that did anyway.

As soon as he parked in front of Vince's place, the man shoved the door open and leaned out of it...Then fell.

"Shit, Vince!" Max cursed, jumping out of the car and running around it. Vince had fallen to his knees and he had an arm wrapped tightly around his stomach and was dry heaving on the grass, "shit-shitshitshit-" Max sunk to his knees, holding Vince's shoulder, "hey... So much for not gonna puke, uh?"

As if to answer him, Vince retched once more - silently, he was a really quiet puker - and a splash of bright yellow bile fell in the grass.

Max rubbed his hand up and down the man's back, sighing in a defeated manner. Vince coughed once more, than let out a string of little tiny burps that seemed completely out of place for a dude like him, and was left panting, an arm still around his stomach, his free hand coming to wipe his mouth.

"Sorry," Vince's voice was shot by the acid, raspy and barely above a whisper, "that was gross."

"I see puke weekly, you're fine," Max thumped his back in a lighthearted manner, "you're done?"

"Think... Think so," Vince nodded and the blonde grabbed his arm, struggling to pull him up on his feet. The moment he did, Vin stumbled, but stayed standing with great effort.

"You're sure this is just not eating?" Max made sure he wasn't gonna fall, before grabbing Vince's bag and digging through it to find his keys.

"It's unlocked," Vince answered after a minute of searching, "I... Forgot to lock it."

"I know Doveport is pacific, but geez, Vince," Max frowned, pushing the door open. He had never been inside and it was striking the difference between Vince's place and his own.

Vince's tiny house was smaller than Max's place, everything cramped in one open floor. Nevertheless, it felt like a home. His living room area was a light beige and had a big brown couch, with a small TV rack dividing the "living room" from the "bedroom", a flat screen on top of it and a bunch of books under it. The coffee table was a little wobbly and Vin's fresh laundry was sitting in a bowl there, to be folded and stored away. His kitchen had barely any cabinets, instead everything was inside of jars in open shelves. His bedroom had a pink wall, a bunch of books and one of his football jerseys had been framed and put on a wall, covered in signatures.

"Okay, lie down-" Max guided Vince to the couch, but the man shook his head, pointing the bed.

"Couch's... too small," he stumbled in and finally fell on the bed with a relieved sigh, "thanks, Max, you don't-"

"Where's your food?" Max interrupted Vince before he could say the predictable you-don't-have-to-stay. He didn't wait for an answer, turning around and going through Vin's stuff in the kitchen.

He had almost no junk food, which again was the opposite of what Max expected. A bunch of spices and pastas in all sorts of shapes...

"Here," he found a box filled with energy bars next to his microwave and walked back to the bed area, sitting on the corner, "have a bite."

"No," Vince wrinkled his nose, "too queasy."

"You're queasy because there's nothing in your stomach," Max rolled his eyes, tearing the bar open and breaking a piece of it, "open up, c'mon."

Vince glared at him and Max sighed, lowering his hand. He was being too forceful, he knew that. It was just... Weird being around Vince when he was existing in this weird limbo of crushing on the guy, getting to know him and taking care of someone for the first time. He was both worried and overthinking it all.

"Help me out here, man," Max said quietly, "I don't know what to do."

Vince's shoulders moved down and he nodded, rubbing his face in a frustrated manner, "uhm... Energy bar is too rich," he said after a minute, making a disgusted face, "I have saltines in one of the jars."

"Alright!" Max leaped for them, going through all the jars. Part of him was enjoying the snooping around, he couldn't remember the last time he had been in someone's house... Well, except for his tinder dates, but those barely counted, "who needs that much pasta?" he whispered under his breath, then raised his eyebrows at the fancy set of pans inside the only cabinet. They were all baby blue and looked expensive as hell, "these are cute..."

"Max," Vince sounded amused, "saltines?"

Oh yeah. Max found them in the smallest jar, next to a metal tin filled with cookies, and he came back to the bed, holding five of the crackers as well as a Gatorade bottle.

"Here you go..." He fidgeted, watching as Vince started taking tiny bites, in between small sips of the electrolyte, "better?"

"It's been twenty seconds," Vince snorted, closing his eyes, "sit down, you're making me nervous."

"I'm making you nervous? You're the one who collapsed like a victorian lady," he rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, "are the crackers staying down?"

Vin shrugged, not moving a muscle and Max simply stared, since the man had his eyes closed. Vince occupied most of the double bed and he looked... Weird. Not just the paleness and slight shivering, there was something off that Max couldn't figure out what it was. His curls had escaped the low ponytail and were around his face, making him look oddly like an ancient statue...

"I like your place," Max paced around, like a caged tiger, "are you gonna nap?"

Vin opened his eyes, looking a little amused, "can anyone nap when you're yapping?"

"Oh fuck you!" Max cried out, his cheeks heating up, "I'm just checking if you're alive, forgive me for giving a shit-"

"You helped so much already," Vince interrupted his outcry, moving slightly on the bed, "but I think I'll just nap now, you should go Max."

"Okay..." He really didn't want to leave. Not only he didn't trust Vince to stay alive when he was still that white, but he simply didn't wanna leave this tiny, cozy house.

"My mom is gonna be here in five minutes," Vince warned him, yawning, "you should leave or she's gonna rope you into coming over for dinner, it'll be a whole thing."

Max didn't hate the idea of going to the Monacelli's place for dinner. Still, he let out a huff, "yeah, I should go," he moved around, fishing Vin's phone out of his bag abandoned on the couch and then back to the bed, shoving the device on the man's hand, "get my number, I want you to text me you're alive later."

Vince let out a sigh, before unlocking his phone and handing it back to Max, a clear message for him to do it himself. Once that was done, that was really no other reason for Daniels to stay around a minute longer, so he patted Vince's arm in an awkward way, "text me. I'm serious, or I'll text your mom. I got her number, this is a threat."

Vince scoffed, looking more than a little sleepy, "yeah yeah..." he yawned, "Max? Thank you. Really."

He sounded so earnest. Max nodded stiffly, he needed to get the hell out of there. Liking Vince was a landslide, not even a slippery slope.

"Yeah, no problem," he walked to the door, "but start eating breakfast, Monacelli."