#and just get over it but fuck I really really really don’t want to

[cutiefulism]

cw. established relationship, reader is a perv n a tease, caleb is sort of a perv here too ithink, idk they are both freaky n they match 💔 this is to make up for the bs i posted like two days ago! also i am tempted to try out smaller text.. should i poll it

boyfriend!caleb who swears you’re sooo innocent. the first few months of any relationship are the most tumultuous ones, and you’re shy. he knows he has to tread lightly and carefully, to cement the fact that he loves you unconditionally and always will, that it isn’t just about sex. plus, this is your first real relationship. he doesn’t want to scare you off and screw this up by being too hasty, despite feeling like he’s wearing combat boots while traveling through eggshells.

but, god, are you hard to resist.

it’s like you don’t even know how just how hard he gets when you wear those thin tops that do nothing to hide your pert nipples or when you send him pictures of those dangerously short skirts — the ones where, with just a wave of his hand, could lift up and reveal the dainty, soaked panties you have on underneath.

if he could bring himself to hate anything you do, he’d say he hates it when you send them those photos at work the most, because then he’s forced to leave a meeting or kick a subordinate out of his office just to rub one out. :((

caleb’s thoughts are just so filthy, too — ranging from using your pretty tits to get off to just keeping you home and spending all day, everyday stuffing your cunt full of his cum until the two of you have at least five kids.

but even he knows that’s far too fast for the two of you. no part of him has ever been inside you (save for his tongue when you two make out), and yet here he is, fantasizing about debauching his sweetheart of a girlfriend.

shame on him.

but it’s not like you aren’t thinking the same.

you like walking around his cold house with no bra and a flimsy little camisole. you like wearing tiny shorts with no panties to sleep or short skirts that is, really, but a scrap of fabric. you like accidentally brushing your foot against his crotch during dinner or shifting far too much in his lap whenever you two are watching a show.

caleb’s reactions are priceless — the way his breath gets caught in his throat, how his soft cheeks grow a dusty pink, the subtle jerk of his hips or adjustment of his hardening cock in his pants . .

how could you resist provoking him more, especially when you know he’s doing so much to hold back?

you’ve heard him, whether it be when he’s in the shower, the door cracked open just enough for you to peer in, or late at night when he thinks you’re asleep, fucking his fist like a hormonal teenager or, worse (in his eyes), humping the bed. it’s like he forgets that you’re right there, that you could pop into the bathroom for something while he’s moaning your name or wake up mid-orgasm and watch all that cum go to waste on his toned abs or thighs.

it’d be so easy to interrupt. a little too easy, actually, as if he’s subconsciously wishing that you would catch him and scold him for being so perverted, so disgusting.

but you won’t, no matter how badly you want to take his dick into your mouth and clean it up until he’s quivering with the force of another orgasm or slip into the shower behind him and help him work himself over with softer and smaller hands.

you’ll keep playing the long game, teasing caleb with feigned naivete, sending him pretty pictures while he’s at work and pushing him further and further to the brink until he has no choice but to snap and take you for himself, ripping clothes and spitting and spanking.

there’s only so much a man can take, after all, and he’s undeniably weak to you.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

too big

a/n: honestly, bless this man for being such a dick (and having such a dick, holy fuck i’m gonna pass out)

summary: cock throbbing in his grasp, he stared down at your pussy as he swept his intimidating girth against it, “you know, you have been such a fucking tease for way too long… only giving me handjobs or rubbing that little cunt on me, basically taunting me, while the rest of these assholes get to have you, all of you, anyway they want,” he stopped nudging your buzzing pearl and instead dragged through your petals till he found your opening, quivering and dripping as he nuzzled against it, “I’m fucking tired…” he groaned slowly, “…so I’m done waiting… I’ll finally feel this fucking pussy wrapped around me whether you like it or not.” 

warnings: innocent!reader x frat!bucky barnes, stepbro!steve rogers, frat!ari levinson, marc spector, ransom drysdale, curtis everett, lloyd hansen, andy barber, thor odinson, scott lang, miguel o'hara, frank castle, billy russo, smut, dark content, dubcon halfway through, college au, polyamory, kissing, corruption kink, shower sex, bondage, exhibitionism, voyeurism, crying, dacryphilia, dirty talk, size kink, gaping, belly bulge, manhandling, overstimulation, orgasm denial, edging, multiple orgasms, squirting, impact play, pain kink, spit kink, choking, masturbation, oral, fingering, anal, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, bukkake

word count: 6770

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“Ah, not yet,” your stepbrother groaned over the booming music, that rocked the frat house, as he cut the sip of his beer short, “if you really don’t wanna be here anymore, can’t you just like go up to my room and wait?”

“Seriously?” a long sigh flowed from your lungs, “then I’d rather just walk back to my dorm alone, I don’t even know why you insist on escorting me like I’m a child.” 

“Because you shouldn’t walk alone at night,” Steve shot back as his gaze continued to keep his focus on the party around him, “don’t be a brat, just go wait upstairs.”

“Well, can’t someone else do it then if you’re so busy, your majesty,” your comment earned you a glare. 

“You’re my responsibility,” he stated, the bridge of his nose twitching heatedly as he glowered down at you, “I’m not just gonna dump my problems on my friends for them to deal with.”

“Wow, okay,” you nearly choked on the lump that promptly formed in your throat, “I’m sorry for being such a burden then,” you muttered before spinning around and storming up the stairs. 

The door to Steve’s room slammed shut like a crack of thunder behind your spine. 

Chest still heaving, you stared down at the ground for a long moment before you finally managed to force your feet to move once again and peel you away from the door. You flopped down onto the bed with a heated huff, blinking up at the ceiling before your gaze flickered to the night sky twinkling on the other side of the windows. 

Though as you laid there, your stepbrother's last words nearly swallowing you whole as they played on a loop in your brain like a plague, a different sound suddenly caught your ears and caused your cheeks to instantly heat up with something other than fury. 

Reverberating through the thin wall, shrill moans were tangled with deep ones, some that were familiar, though you didn’t place them till the female whines started screaming out his name. 

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky–,” the cries rang out each time the thud of a headboard thumped against the wall. 

And though you couldn’t make out every word, you still thought that you could hear Bucky’s low timbre crackle in dirty soliloquies, fractured sentences that soon persuaded your hands to subconsciously drift down along your frame.

Though by the time that your fingers had found their way down your pants and stuffed up your hole, rocking them to the same rhythm of the pounding that nearly cracked through the wall, the door to Steve’s room was suddenly ripped open and you tore your hand away from your cunt. 

“I am only gonna say this once, so you better fucking listen up,” he grumbled as he kicked the door shut behind him, “I–… am sorry…” he struggled to huff, “there, you happy now?” 

The lewd noises that echoed through the wall didn’t faze him at all as he apparently was so used to such background noise in the house that he barely registered it at all. 

“So, you don’t think I’m a burden?” you uttered, propping yourself up on your elbows as doubt stiffened your words. 

“…no…” resisting a roll of his eye, he instead faintly shook his head as he began to walk closer, “you’re not a burden… a brat? Yes,” he stated, “but I guess you’re not that bad…” a slight smirk twitched at his lip before he then bent down over you and kissed you. 

Though as it turned out to not just be a swift peck he’d sought after as he layed down at top of you, one of your palms pressed against the centre of his burly chest before you twisted your lips out of the way, “wait, wait,” your head faintly shook as you tried not to succumb to his intoxicating kiss, “no, if we do this, then we’ll both just fall asleep here.” 

“Would that really be so bad?” a soft scoff crackled in his throat. 

“I wanna sleep in my own bed tonight,” you tilted your head as you blinked up at him, your brows gently knitting together at the plea, “I didn’t even wanna come tonight.” 

“Oh, come on,” he leaned back down till his nose ghosted against your own, “I’m too tired to walk across campus right now, and if I’m tired, then I can only imagine how you must feel. Come on, just crash here tonight, do it for me,” he croaked, “and you’ve been so boring all evening, barely had a sip of anything, so at the very least you owe me this.” 

“But–”

“You can pop in some earplugs, then you won’t even know the difference,” his lips began to flutter across your cheekbone till his voice tickled your ear, all the while the party right downstairs still boomed above his manipulative murmurs. 

And though you knew that it wasn’t true, that even if you could somehow block out the noise, you still couldn’t stop the base from rocking the entire house and make you dizzy as you laid in your stepbrother’s bed. So, as fear arose inside of you at the thought of telling him no, you instead heard yourself timidly whispering, “…alright…”

You’d managed to slip out of Steve’s bed without waking him up before you then sneaked down the long hallway to borrow the upstairs shower. 

Though once the water was drizzling down upon you, in the relaxing steam that floated around your form, your thoughts couldn’t help but drift back to the night before, though not of the manner that your stepbrother had put you to sleep, but instead to the sinful sounds of his best friend that you’d overheard. 

Swiftly, the pads of your fingers began to draw needy circles over your clit to try and dull the scandalously intruding thoughts, though even when you detached the showerhead to spray the gush of water directly against your pussy, a dire problem continued to stand in your way, like you were peeping over the edge of a cliff, too petrified to jump by yourself. 

However, as time began to slip away from you, the door suddenly barged open.  

Your stifled whimpers promptly ceased echoing in the shower as your eyes snapped to the figure now standing in the doorway. 

“B-Bucky!” you dropped the showerhead in your humiliated scramble to twist your nude frame out of his sight. Picking it up as it began to spray up into your face, you swiftly spun around and splayed your hands across your frame in a feeble attempt at covering yourself up.   

“You do know that this door locks, right?” he chuckled as he gently pushed the door closed behind him, the one that you had apparently still been half-asleep when you forgot to bolt, “that’s twice now,” he pointed out with a grin as his stare pierced through the fogged up glass, deja vu smacking you in the face as well, as he reminded you of the incident that had happened over the summer break, “I think if it ever happens a third, then I should win a prize or something.”

“Get out!” you screeched, embarrassment eating you alive. 

“Why? So that you can go back to getting yourself off?” 

“I–,” your head swiftly soared to catch sight of him over your shoulder, “I wasn’t–…” before you squeezed your eyes shut and huffed, “oh my god, I hate you…” 

“I know,” he simply smiled at your groan before he shifted to go grab his toothbrush from the cabinet.

But before he could be on his way and slip back out, your head started spinning as your gaze traced him on the other side of the glass, going about his business as if you weren’t standing stark naked one single meter away from him. 

“W-wait!” you then heard yourself squeak right as his fingers reached for the door handle. Glancing back over his shoulder at you, the words that then slipped out of your lungs were accompanied by a shiver that trickled down your spine, “…could you–…”

Blinking back at you, his eyes faintly squinted as a smirk plagued his lips, “could I what?” 

“Well, I just–,” your breathing was ragged as you averted your gaze, “I’m having a bit of trouble making myself–, uhm…”

“Aw,” his broad shoulders gently shook in a laugh as he then began to mock, “what’s the matter? Can you not make your little pussy cum? Have you still not learned how to do it on your own?” 

“I–, n-no!” you hastily lied, “I’ve totally done it myself, loads of times, what are you talking about?” even though the truth actually was that the sought-after high was still too overwhelming to reach on your own, “I just right now when I tried that it won’t happen… I–… I don’t know what’s wrong with me…” 

“Well, maybe you’re doing it wrong,” he shrugged, “or school’s just got you crazy stressed out or something, so it can’t snap into place.”

“Yeah?” a small drop of assurance settled within your belly, “…so would you maybe–, I mean, I know that you’ve done it for me before, but still, could you maybe help me out a tiny bit?” 

A big huff flowed from his lungs as Bucky then pretended that your request was something he wished to be no part of, “alright,” he teasingly grumbled, “I guess I could lend you a hand, but just saying, it’ll cost you.” 

“Cost me?” 

“Yeah,” he tried to keep a straight face, “I don’t give out favours free of charge.” 

“Fine,” a short giggle bubbled out of you as you assumed his dramatic terms were but a joke, “I promise I’ll be your getaway driver on your next diamond heist or whatever.”  

His tongue briefly flickered out to wet his lips before he simply chuckled condescendingly in return, “you’re cute,” before he then began to strip out of his sleepwear. 

Though you probably shouldn’t have been surprised, in your mind, you had merely pictured that he would stay on the other glass a moment longer to give you the guidance that you needed, only explaining what you should do and nothing more before he then left you to carry it out on your own. 

“What are you doing?” your eyes instinctively grew wide as his clothing hit the tile floor. 

“Sweetheart,” his head swiftly cocked, “you literally just begged all pathetically for my help,” he pushed his underwear down, revealing his beast of a cock, already half-hard and heavy, resting like a freaking baseball bat against the top of his thigh, “so that’s what I’m doing,” he brashly stated before he then joined you in the shower. 

Grabbing your face with both of his hands, he then held you in a kiss until the tension in your body gradually began to fade away. When you started to suck in deep breaths through your nose, truly landing in the devilish deal you’d just agreed to, one of his fiendishly, inked hands then began to wander. Skimming down over your wet skin, his palm first caught your tits, briefly giving one of your nipples a teasing tug, before his touch strayed down to knead your ass and draw you that much closer to his frame. 

With the showerhead still clutched in your hands, hugged closely to your body, and gushing onto the both of you, the drawn-out kiss then broke when Bucky’s hand snuck down between your legs. Swiftly, he sought out your clit, already puffy and throbbing from the way you had bullied it mere moments earlier. 

However, then, as you blinked up at him, mouth falling open in a gasp, he suddenly spun you around for your spine to be pressed up against his brawny chest, before stealing the showerhead from your grasp. 

Extending his thumb, he dexterously switched the settings and changed the flow of water from several small and gentle streams to one thicker, and much stronger, jet. 

A whimper rolled off your tongue as he then held the gush down to spray its firm pressure directly against your little pearl, and as you had already been so worked up when he found you, it didn’t take very long at all before you finally tasted that sweet high that you still weren’t yet brave enough to catch on your own, his expert touch instead guiding you there. Your eyes squeezed shut as, not only your head fell back against his broad shoulder, but your knees also threatened to give out, lending him to snake a swift arm around your waist to keep you from collapsing entirely. 

“Oh my god,” you panted, completely melted back against his bulky physique, “how did you do that so fast?”

And as the muffled grunt, that had vibrated in his chest at your unravelling, morphed into a cocky chuckle that tickled your ear, he simply murmured, “you’re welcome,” before he then pressed a peck to the top of your head and began to tilt your body back away from his. 

But at the loss of contact, one of your hands suddenly shot out in desperation before he could disappear completely, “wait, please I–,” you gasped foggily, “more–, I want more–, please don’t stop–”

And as you peeked over your shoulder to meet his eye, a glimmer flickered in his blue ones, “oh, looks like someone’s getting greedy,” he smirked, “you finally developing a taste for all of this? Becoming the little slut we’ve been telling you all along that you actually are?” 

“No, I’m not a–,” you couldn’t even echo the same word out loud, “…Bucky, please? I just–, I can’t do it on my own–, I mean, not like you or any of the others can…”

“Well, you’ve just not had enough practice yet,” his palm swept up to find your jaw as he took a step back in your proximity, “you’ll get there if you just listen to Steve and stick with all of us,” he uttered as he turned your head for his lips to capture your own.

As he kissed you over your shoulder, his now raging hard-on digging into the softness of your bottom, he then blindly slotted the showerhead back into place on the wall, lending the water to drizzle down over the both of you as he swept his tongue ravenously against your own. 

His feet then began to shift on the wet floor, and steered your own to move slightly as well, till your tits smooshed up against the cool tile wall of the shower. When his lips then faded and began to migrate down and past your neck, you continued to peek back at him as he then sank down onto his knees behind you. Grabbing your hips, he yanked your butt closer to his head till your back was arched and your arms were folded up against the wall for support. Burying his face in between your thighs, he then spent the next chunk of time eating you out till he once again had you tumbling over the edge.

Though after you’d cum this second time, he feverishly reached up and shut off the water before he plucked up your dazed form and dragged you out of the shower, planting you instead on the counter beside the sink. 

Still all dizzy, you swayed slightly as Bucky then took a few steps away from you, enough to be out of your reach. 

“I wanna see how many of your fingers you can fit inside that pretty little pussy of yours,” he demanded as his stare coasted down to your core, utterly on display as your limp legs hadn’t drifted closed yet. 

“W-what?” you breathed, still too hazy to keep your heavy eyelids from temporarily blinding your vision. 

“You heard what I said,” he briefly let a dollop of spit drop down into his open palm before he then grasped his thick girth and initiated a silky stroke, “show me.”  

Though try as you might, the max you managed to cram inside of your drooling cunt was three of your digits as your stare stayed glued on his fist working over his big cock. 

However as he watched you reach your capacity, he then stepped back up and, with his free hand, joined your own touch between your thighs. At first, as his gaze found your own and held it captive, the tips of his fingers traced your hole, all stretched out by your comparatively thin digits. But then, gradually, he traded your own touch out with his. To begin with, his finger hooked under one of your knuckles to pull one of your fingers out of your pussy, barely waiting any time at all before he then swapped places with it and slid his own digit in beside the two of yours that remained.

The stretch sent a shiver trickling down your spine and you swiftly tilted closer to crash your lips messily against his own. 

And soon, none of your own fingers remained as he instead stuffed you full. Though you thought that two of his thick digits were a struggle, he somehow managed to work himself up and double it to four after he had coaxed your own touch away, his thumb being the only one he couldn’t cram inside, instead stretching it up to sweep against your swollen clit and roll it under the broad pad. His other hand stayed on his dick as your pussy began to stain his fingers with your cream, leaking needily into his palm. 

Though just before you could cum once more, his zealous touch suddenly disappeared, denying you of the luxurious sensation once again. As you desperately reached down to take care of it yourself, he swiftly swatted your hand out of the way. 

Both of his palms, still sticky from your essence as well as his own spit, then floated up to grasp the sides of your face before he then uttered, “grab my cock,” and frantically, you fulfilled his command as you shared his hot breath, “both hands, that’s it, good girl,” a gravelly groan rumbled in his throat as you wrapped your fingers around his fat girth and attempted a gentle stroke, “rub it against you,” he murmured as the tip of him was already mere inches away from your throbbing clit, “rub that big cock against your pussy, go on.”

And as you then tilted your hips and began to drag his hardness through your folds, parting your petals for his girth, a pout found your lips as you peeked down at his size as your juices soaked him, “why do you have to be so fucking big…” you heard yourself whine, “it’s not fair…” 

“Aw, what’s wrong, huh?” he huffed out a cocky grin as he promptly leaned in a bit closer, “are you tired of not being able to take me? I thought you liked all the fun ways we make it work since you won’t let me even try to stick it in, how scaredlittle you think I’m too huge for it to ever work.” 

“You are, that hasn’t changed, I’ve accepted that,” you puffed as you continued to tickle the bulbous tip of him against your core and drive yourself closer to the edge once again, “but I can just still, simultaneously, be a little sad about how I can’t do that with you, even with how crazy you make me, which is a mystery in itself, I don’t get it, frankly I think you’re a complete and utter asshole, but–, fuck… it’s like I lose my mind when I’m around you… all of you… I can’t even enter this house without forgetting my own name…” 

But then, just before you could catch another orgasm, a low growl crackled in Bucky’s throat as your words caused him to finally snap, grasping your frame and tossing you over his shoulder before he nearly ripped the door off its hinges from how feverishly he yanked it open.

Stalking down the long hallways that slithered throughout the upper floor of the fraternity, fear arose in you at the thought that someone might spot you, though as you squeaked about it through your billowing laughter, Bucky only smacked your ass in return, lending you not to notice the handful of doors that clicked open behind you. 

As you reached his room, your giggle still remained as he dropped you down upon his bed. You were too focused on him as he sank down over you to notice how he hadn’t bothered to shut the door. 

Messily making out, his fingertips tickled your sides as he wrestled you lightly, grasping both of your wrists and pinning them above your head before his hips then grinded down against your own. Though your legs didn’t manage to tangle around him before he then flipped you around to lay on your stomach beneath him. 

It continued to be all fun and game as he twisted your squirming hands down to the small of your back, even as he reached for a pair of handcuffs that rested on his nightstand before swiftly clicking them around your wrists, as you merely thought that it was something new and exciting, not him on the verge of crossing a line.

Though as he then yanked your hips up off of the mattress, your knees curling beneath you as your face and shoulder smooshed further into the bed, you playfully wiggled your ass back at him as you fully expected to feel the touch of his fingers or his tongue once again. But to your surprise, when you did feel something brush against your weepy cunt, your giggle finally ceased, gradually fizzling out as you realised what exactly it was that you were feeling caress against you. 

“Wait, what are you–,” your neck twisted further as you tried to catch a glimpse of what he was doing, though only managed to spot his silhouette looming behind you. 

Cock throbbing in his grasp, he stared down at your pussy as he swept his intimidating girth against it, “you know, you have been such a fucking tease for way too long… only giving me handjobs or rubbing that little cunt on me, basically taunting me, while the rest of these assholes get to have you, all of you, anyway they want,” he stopped nudging your buzzing pearl and instead dragged through your petals till he found your opening, quivering and dripping as he nuzzled against it, “I’m fucking tired…” he groaned slowly, “…so I’m done waiting… I’ll finally feel this fucking pussy wrapped around me whether you like it or not.” 

“But I’m not ready–, Bucky, wait!” you tried to wiggle away from him, but he only grasped your ass and brought you back flush against him, “let’s just talk about this for a second–”

“What’s there to talk about, huh?”

“It won’t fit!” you yelped into the sheets.

“Yeah, probably not,” he smirked from behind you, “but I don’t care… I’ll just make it fit,” he uttered before then attempting to sink it in, though without success, his massive cock instead slipped through your slick folds and dragged roughly across your clit. 

“Bucky, please! I’m scared!” you whimpered as his fat tip continued to nudge at your hole, smearing the mess leaking out of you further against your core, “you’re gonna break me in half!” 

“I know, fuck, I know,” he chuckled darkly as he kept up his efforts, “your little pussy is just too goddamn tiny for this,” he pointed out before continuing anyway and trying once again to bury himself in your warmth, though this time failing as well, “fucking shit!” he exclaimed as rage began to bubble within him, making him huff like a bull behind you. 

With a smack against your propped-up ass, he then took a step back before making his way around the bed to the nightstand. Once he’d grabbed a bottle of lube, he briefly dipped down to smother your frown with a peck. 

“Please, Bucky,” you tried to plea once again, “you can stop now. You tried and it didn’t work, so just–, we can do something else, whatever you want, just please don’t try again.”

“But this is the only thing I want,” he murmured before kissing your nose and disappearing back behind you once more.

As he settled back into the same position as before, he liberally glazed his cock with some of the lube, as well as smearing some on your already slick pussy too, even pushing some inside of you with one of his long fingers. 

And as he then attempted a third time, snapping his hips with all of his might, the very tip of him finally popped inside and an actual scream erupted from your lungs, partly from the severe stretch as he split you open with his monstrous girth, but also just from the pure shock of it miraculously working. 

“Ah!” your vision blurred up with tears and you could barely breathe as your poor pussy ached around his obscene size he tried to wreck you with, “Buck! It’s too big! It’s too big!” your mind began to grow fuzzy as you’d never experienced such an intense sensation before, “o-oh, fuck, please take it out, it hurts!” 

“Oh yeah, does it?” his palm swept up the goosebump-ridden skin on your back before he caught the cuffs that linked your wrists together, crudely tugging on them to drag you further down onto his cock, cramming even more of him inside of you, “it sure fucking looks like it, goddamn… I should take a picture of this shit, you’re so fucking stretched out right now, it looks like you might actually break on me,” his other hand drifted to your core to trace the way you struggled to take him. 

“Oh fuck, too much–, too much!” you began to sob as he began to buck his hips and bury himself further inside of you, “t-that’s too deep, Bucky!” 

“No, it’s not,” he chuckled breathlessly through a groan as he continued to stretch you to fit him, “I’m barely halfway.”

“Half–,” you gasped as it already felt as if he was so deep that you could feel him everywhere. From your toes that curled to all the way up in your fucking throat, there wasn’t a single part of you that didn’t flicker and spark for him like a bomb about to go off. 

And as he huffed behind you with every laboured thrust, his hips snapping to crave his way deeper into your sweetness, his hands on you got rougher as they began to come down upon the curve of your bottom, smacking it and making you clench achingly around him at each blow. 

The sniffles that filtered through your strangled moans then found Bucky’s ears, and he briefly tore his stare away from where he split you apart, to glance to your face and spot the tears that rolled down your cheeks. 

“Are you fucking crying right now?” he couldn’t help but huff out a faint and amazed laugh, “aw, that’s okay, baby,” your mouth then fell open as one of his thumbs moved to plug up your tiny asshole, “you can cry if you need to…”

But through the piercing stretch that terrorised your soul, like shocks of electricity flicking through your nerves, you began to notice the euphoria slowly overpowering the pain, confusing you from how the two mixed and mingled. And then suddenly, Bucky’s greedy thrusts started to sound wetter and wetter with each sloppy slam into your soaked pussy, soon coming to a crescendo when your walls promptly squeezed down around him so tight that it forced his huge cock back out as your cunt achingly gushed around nothing and your wobbly knees collapsed beneath you.

Though as you came crashing down upon the bed, he wasted no time at all sinking down with you, “fuck… you’re doing so good for me, you know that?” your eyes rolled as he hummed directly in your ear, “just a little bit more, okay? Just relax around me, let me in,” he groaned as he struggled a moment to stuff himself back inside, pushing past your trembling sensitivity to make room for his length once again.

Though when he sank in, a low and blissful groan rumbling in his chest, it vibrated against your spine as he nearly crushed you as his hips began to roll and rut down into you, burying himself even deeper than before. 

“Be a good girl, just lay right there and take it while I finally get to use this tiny little hole of yours,” he grunted as his efforts overstimulated you so fiercely that your legs trembled violently beneath him and drool began to trickle out of the corner of your mouth, soaking the sheets below, “mould you so good around me, make you take me, fit me perfectly, just the way you should, make you a pretty little fuckdoll for me…”

Though your face was twisted to face the door, it was a struggle to keep your eyes open, lending you only to notice the figures that filled up the exit when one of them took a step to the side and spoke up as he knocked on the neighbouring door. 

“Yo, Steve!” Thor slammed his fist against the door till it creaked open, “bro, come out here.” 

“Yeah, you gotta see this, man,” Ransom called out as well, his feet remaining in the threshold so his stare could stay glued on your cockdrunk visage. 

And when your stepbrother stepped out to spot what was happening just in the next room, he swiftly leaned his form against the doorframe as a wide grin bloomed on his features. 

“Holy shit,” Steve chuckled breathlessly as he stared at the pair of you in amazement, “well fucking done, Buck!” 

“Thank you,” the man that squished you further into the mattress chuckled smugly as he tangled a burly arm under your chin and let his inked bicep flex against your pulse and choke you lightly, “thank you very much.” 

“I mean, I for sure thought you’d have to hold out even longer,” Steve tilted his head slightly to catch a glimpse of how your cream stained Bucky’s cock as it helplessly leaked out of you, forming a messy ring around his fat girth. 

“Well, sometimes patience doesn’t get you what you want. Sometimes you just gotta stop playing by the rules and make life your bitch,” Bucky grunted before his lips began to nibble at your ear, “right, Y/n?” 

Scarcely registering their sinful words through your fucked out fog, all you could reply with was a slurred, “mmngmphh…” your mumbled moan only triggering Bucky to grow even more cocky than before. 

“That’s right, baby, I knew you could fucking take it. You didn’t, but I sure did,” he panted against your neck, “see, if you weren’t such a little prude, then you would have gotten this big dick so much earlier, wouldn’t you have liked that? Instead of being such a brat and making me wait till everyone else had gotten to use you as their own personal little fucktoy to get off with.”

And though you tried to answer, you instead heard your stepbrother chuckle over your pathetic moans, “fucking hell, look at how wrecked she is. Buddy, I think you might have actually broken her,” before he glanced over his shoulder at Thor, “hey, go get the other. Wake them up if you have to, they shouldn’t miss another second of this shit.” 

You barely noticed as the rest of the fraternity slowly filtered into the room as your eyes soon fluttered shut and yet another orgasm rocked your sense, your cunt creaming all over Bucky’s excruciatingly thick cock. When he then suddenly flipped you around onto your back, you dizzily discovered the audience that had formed as you hazily blinked around the crowd. Some were lined up behind Bucky, others off to the side of where you laid melted against the sheets, and a few remained staring in the doorway, though over half of them had already freed their own dicks, while the remaining few that hadn’t yet still only palmed their palpable tents as they watched intently.

A shrill yelp bubbled up your lungs as Bucky then tapped the hefty weight of his length against your overly sensitive pussy. Your legs were folded and crumbled on either side of your frame as he sloppily rubbed himself against your mess, letting the rest see just how much he had ruined you.

“You guys wanna see how pretty I can make her gape for me?” Bucky asked the others as his gaze stayed glued to your little hole, nuzzling against it as it looked as if it had snapped back into place, almost like he’d never been in there at all. 

And with the cheers that promptly rumbled behind him, he then repeatedly rammed his cock inside your cunt before retreating completely with the lewd pop of your poor pussy letting go of his monstrous girth. Each time he slid inside, he gradually ventured further, burying himself deeper before pulling back out and watching as your hole steadily relaxed for him, moulding to his size. At first, your leaky entrance only winked back at them all a brief moment before snapping back into place, till you eventually gaped properly enough for them all to applaud in awe as Bucky paused a moment to grasp you with both of his broad palms and spread you wide, holding you open for everyone a moment longer before your hole quivered back into place. 

Struggling to keep your eyes open, you then forced them to blink as you felt Frank momentarily step up beside you and swiftly free your hands from the cuffs that still kept them bound behind your back, seeing as you couldn’t possibly escape now that you were so cockdrunk you could barely stay awake. 

All of their deep voices and lewd comments washed over you like a stormy sea, crashing into you and making you even more lightheaded than before. 

Ari then shifted to kneel down next to you and scoop his palm under your head, tilting it up for your hazy vision to flicker down to the unobscured crude view of how your pretty pussy got impaled by Bucky’s obscene size, stretching you apart way beyond your limits. 

And as he mercilessly drove his cock into you, his balls managed to smack against your slick skin as he finally buried himself completely inside of your warmth, the tip of him not only diving deep enough to kiss your cervix, but to bump and bully against it with such force that it caused you to repeatedly lose your breath. 

You had never felt so full before in your life, surely too full, as even though you were blinking down at the hard evidence before you, you still didn’t fully believe that you were capable of such feats, of taking him the way that he made you. 

“O-oh, fuck…” you shakily whimpered when you caught sight of the way his monstrous size bulged through your belly, making it seem as though he was fucking straight through your pussy and into your guts.

Your teary eyes then flickered to find Steve in the crowd before one of your hands weakly grabbed for him. Seeing as it was the very least he could do, he granted you the comfort and closed the short distance, trading places with the frat’s president, before he grasped your trembling palm in his own. 

“Damn,” you faintly heard Curtis mutter as he stared, his girth ever throbbing in his fist, mirroring the rest of them, “maybe you should just make her cockwarm you for the rest of the day, just as a precaution to make it easier for you next time.”

“Oh, you’re right, she might need that princess treatment,” Steve murmured as he raised the back of your palm up to his lips for a brief peck, “you’d let him do that, wouldn’t you, sis? For me? Be good for my best friend?”

“Uh-huh,” you found yourself panting as their words flew straight over your dazed head as it jostled on the mattress each time Bucky’s hips snapped against your ass, your zealous slickness being so messy at this point that it clung to his skin as well and kept you both connected in glossy strings, like spiderwebs, each time his efforts retreated. 

“Shit,” Marc groaned as his fingers, tightly wrapped around his own dick, began to speed up, “this is so hot… I think I might blow my load.” 

“Me too, fuck,” Scott harmonized. 

“Cum in her mouth,” Bucky uttered, “go on, be a good girl, open up for them,” before you then felt your stepbrother beside you pry your lips apart mid-moan. 

And as the pair stepped up and, one by one, painted your breathless tongue with their essence, you heard Lloyd rumble firmly, “you better swallow every single drop they give you, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, doesn’t it taste good what you do to them, to all of us?” Billy purred before he let a dollop of spit drop from his lips into his palm as he paused momentarily before silkily stroking his length one more to you. 

“Maybe if you beg real pretty, it could become your dessert after every one of your meals,” Miguel suggested with a smirk, “but only if you’re good, then maybe you can have the privilege of being our little cumdump.” 

“Is that what you want?” Andy uttered huskily, his fevered efforts stealing some of his breath, “you wanna be Kappa Alpha Nu’s official little toy? Just be all fucking adorable and help us get off?”

But then Bucky let out a low chuckle as he shifted your feet to rest up upon his broad shoulders, “you’re saying that like she isn’t already…” he grinned proudly before sinking down closer and folding your body in half.

Your free hand clawed at his bicep as both of them flexed to keep him from crushing you as he tilted down to kiss you ravenously. His rhythm picked up till it reached a desperate pace, pumping his fat cock into you as he groaned against your lips. Though even after you felt his big dick twitch inside of you and pump your pussy full of his cum, his efforts didn’t cease, only degraded slightly as he shivered above you, stubbornly fucking you till you unravelled as well. 

With a ragged moan, he finally withdrew from your haven and reached down to messily rub his touch against your poor pussy, all swollen and puffy as it squirted once again for him, your juices weakly gushing all over the bed as his load too trickled out.

It was all a blur after that. 

At first, as you still laid there, panting and twitching at Bucky’s overstimulating touch that he hadn’t yet freed you from, the three frat guys who were looming right beside you, Thor, Curtis and Andy, decorated your heaving tits and stomach with their hot cum. 

After that, one by one, Miguel, Billy, Frank, Ransom, Lloyd and Ari stepped up and came wherever their heart desired. Some chose your exhausted face, all cute and breathless, blinking up at them, while others elected to finish on the soft peaks of your boobs, making you flash them your soft tongue, or even just paint your puffy pussy white and add to the mess already sticky and sore between your limp thighs. 

And lastly, having clearly edged in order to grant himself the honour, your stepbrother let go of your shaky hand and slotted himself in between your legs. Wasting no time teasing you, he plugged the very tip of him into your wrecked hole, making your whole frame briefly jump and quiver on the mattress before your soreness clenched around him and milked him dry as he swiftly emptied his balls inside of you. 

“Well, I think it’s official,” Steve exhaled when he finally pulled his dick back out to admire his cum slowly leaking out of you, “she is finally ready and broken in enough for us to start having some real fun…” his eyes then briefly flickered around to his friends beside him as he uttered, “gentlemen?” before his gaze once again returned to you, “let’s begin.”

© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[sobbingscripter]

⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼wc. 2216🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆

“Really feel the pottery in your hands. Feel the clay as you shape it.”

The sound of the teacher is drowned out, your attention on Mark and literally, only Mark.

Your nipples are pebbled, charcoal pencil between your teeth as you watch the muscles of his forearms flex with each movement of his hands. His wet, messy hands that shape clay so sensually. God, your palms are already sweaty.

You’ve long abandoned your art project, your incomplete drawing remaining just that. Incomplete.

And you feel your belly dip inward when you watch his middle and ring finger push into the centre of where the hole of whatever pot he’s making. And you nearly moan when he shifts his position, his arm reaching into the pot to shape the inside.

You feel like a pervert. A creep. A weirdo.

Like if Mark didn’t know you, he’d move to walk on the side of the street furthest from you, because your thighs are pressing together with each gentle circle he makes to the outside of the pot, middle finger pressing into the malleable clay to form patterns.

And you cover your lips with your fingers, dragging them down your chin as you try to grab a hold of yourself.

Mark glances towards you, a snort falling from his lips before he motions to your mouth, and your brows knit. Before reaching into your pencil case, pulling out a compact mirror and you grimace.

Charcoal smeared like a fucking goatee.

You rifle through your bag, pulling out a small package of tissues before you wipe at your face, checking your reflection to make sure you’re getting all of it.

“Young lady,” the teacher’s voice breaks your concentration and she looks down at you, “less vanity, more drawing.” And she plucks the compact from your hand, before continuing to walk between the aisles of students.

Looking between their different projects and you feel the back of your neck burn with embarrassment as well as annoyance.

“Dirty old bitch.”

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

“You weren’t there to stop me from making an ass of myself, you dildo.” You hiss, watching as William continues to clean away the barely perceptible streaks of charcoal from your chin.

“I told you to take welding.” He huffs. “Only way you can make an ass of yourself there is if you lose a finger.”

You glance towards your reflection in the bathroom mirror, only satisfied once you’ve reapplied your lip liner, as well as your gloss.

And William steps out of the bathroom first, before backtracking, turns to you. And he presses his palm against your mouth, smearing your lip combo across your face.

“Oh no. Guess we’ll have to stay here for a while longer. Shucks.” William sighs, dramatic and you seethe. “You asshole. What’s so—”

You poke your head out of the bathroom, your eyes widening.

“She’s literally never even acknowledged his existence unless he’s validating one of her stupid opinions!” You hiss. “The fuck does she want with him?”

Your hisses are whispered and William shrugs, wiping at your lips before reaching into your pocket, pulling out your lip combo.

“I don’t know but it’s probably just—”

“William, she’s touching his arm. Oh, God, the world is spinning and I’m smelling pennies.” You groan, leaning back against the cool frame of the door and your hand moves to clutch at your heart over your shirt.

“Someone took my bitch, Willy.” You whimper, bringing your fist up to your mouth, teeth digging into the flesh as you bite down on your knuckles.

“I’m gonna end up on Channel 5, I just know it.”

William watches Amber and Mark, seeing the way Mark smiles. All sweet and bubbly, watching the way Amber laughs and the hand on Mark’s shoulder gives a nice, lingering squeeze.

“No, no one’s taking your bitch. I promise. Look at me.” William reassures, before his hands move to cradle your face, forcing you to look at him.

“Look. At. Me.” He takes a breath. “That is your man. You’ve listened to Seance Dog lore for fucking hours. No one deserves to ride that… Awkward, socially anxious… Permanently stressed… nerdy pony more than you.”

“You’re really bad at— oh, Willy, she’s really close. Girl, I’m gonna crash out.”

And William huffs.

“Amber doesn’t have shit on you. So what if she’s pretty, and smart and she always smells like the Bahamas. Or actually like... More specifically a daiquiri I had when I was eight and my family went there for vacation. But listen to me."

William forces you to look deep into his eyes.

"She does not have shit on you."

And you glance back at Amber and Mark, your spirit crumbling like a cookie when you see the way she pats his chest, her hand lingering and sliding just a bit to ghost over his abs as she passes him. And you nearly throw up.

"William, is this what Beyoncé felt like?"

"Yes." William answers immediately. "But this is your Lemonade moment. Babe, look at me."

And William sighs, his tone almost sympathetic as he whispers to you, "We be all night."

⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆

"Don't be an asshole. Get me a job here." Mark whines, brows knitted into a furrowing frown as he watches you weave between customerw and aisles, continuing to restock various shelves of comic books and paraphernalia.

"No, you're like, one of the biggest customers. Every time you buy a comic book, that's a dollar added to my end of year bonus." You cross your arm over one another, ignoring Mark as he trails behind you, plopping down in the chair near the register and he continues to nurse his Slurpee.

"What are you even gonna use the money for? My mom buys your groceries." Mark huffs and you whistle.

"Wow. First of all. The money my parents send me goes into my college fund, and secondly, your mom forcefully buys my shit. And thirdly, I pay her back." You defend.

"How?"

"I do her hair, I mow your lawn, I wash her car in jean shorts and a backwards baseball cap, not to mention, when she works from home, I'm her assistant."

And Mark scoffs. "You just bring her snacks and take her calls."

"Because her own son doesn't even wanna feed his loving mother."

Mark can barely muster a response, his jaw going slack at your retort and it takes him a few moments to recuperate. "How dare y—"

"I dare easily."

Mark rolls his eyes, pink lips wrapping around his straw once again as he watches you interact with customers. You've got the sweetest smile, pointing out which comic franchise each aisle is dedicated to. And his eyes fall to where your palms are braced on the glass counter, limited edition comics displayed underneath and he watches the way your manicured nails tap at the glass absentmindedly.

You've got pretty hands.

Nice fingers, well kept and the softest palms, and you always know how to accessorize without looking tacky.

And he clears his throat.

"You got that limited edition Seance Dog yet?"

"Yeah, but can you afford it?"

And Mark scoffs. "How much?"

"110." You raise a brow in amusement when you watch Mark swallow heavy, his Adam's apple bobbing. Before he purses his lips. "And you can't hold it for me?" And you shake your head, lips tugged downwards into a mock sympathy expression.

"You know, I can buy it for you. But then I need a favour." You lean forward, elbows braced on the counter and Mark's pretty sure his ears stop working because all he can focus on, is how that pretty pendant dangles from your neck, right above your cleavage. You're giving him the minimal view down your shirt, and he's acting like a damn dog.

"Uh huh?" He squeaks out.

"Everytime I change my sheets, I want you to put the fitted sheet on my mattress." You cross your arms over your chest. "No matter where you are, what you're doing, who you're with."

"Deal!"

⋆⑅˚₊୨🌻🌼🪻୧₊˚⑅⋆

"You spent... A hundred and ten dollars... On a picture book?" Debbie deadpans, eyes narrowing at you from behind cucumber slices, her hand in yours as you continue to file at her nails. She rests back in the recliner, her legs stretched out, foam separaters between her toes as she allows herself to be pampered.

"It's a Seance Dog comic." You hum. "It's got like... Extra panels as to how he became like... Seance Dog. I don't know why, but Mark seems to like it."

And she lets out a breath.

"What even—" "He's an anthropomorphic dog. And he's kinda based on Doctor Strange. Like, costume wise."

"Who?"

"It's a Marvel character. He's like, a wizard."

"Then why's he called 'doctor'?"

"Because he's a doctor."

"Then why is he still a wizard?"

"Because he's a surgeon and a wizard."

"Do his parents know he's running around in a cape?"

"I think his parents are dead, Miss Debbie."

And she winces. "Died of shame?"

"No..." You snort. "They don't really... Go into much detail about that. Or they do, I don't know. I'm not very into Marvel."

And Debbie lets out a quiet sigh, toes flexing and she lifts one of the slices from her eyes, glancing towards where you're busy with her nails.

"Could we try an almond shape? A little bit longer." You note the way it's hard for her to meet your gaze and you gasp.

"Miss Deborah, you dirty dog." You snicker. "Gel build?"

And she nods her head. "The nude pink."

"Can I expect Mark sleep—"

"Without a doubt."

"God—" Mark pants. "Are you just randomly helping people put up water towers?"

"No." Nolan hums, arms crossed over his chest as he watches Mark steady the metallic storage item. "However, these people needed help and you were in the area."

"You were too."

"Who's the hero and who's the rookie?"

And Mark huffs, arms crossed over his chest before his phone buzzes in his suit and Mark fishes the device out of his pocket.

Number 1⭐: 'your mom's gonna get her 🐱 ate'.

He stares at the text, his expression faltering before he stares at Nolan, his lips pressing into a thin line that slowly morphs into a grimace. The longer he stares at his father, the more his expression crumples.

And the more his expression crumples, the wider Nolan grins, already having a mild idea of what the text read.

"You know, you ought to marry a girl like that." Nolan hums. "Smart, funny, likeable."

"She's a massive dick." Mark huffs, sliding his phone back into his pocket before he crosses his arms over his chest. Lips tugged into a disgruntled frown.

"That falls under 'funny', son." Nolan states.

"Well, that's too bad. I've already got a girl I like. Her name's Amber and—"

"Can Amber fight, Mark?"

The question is abrupt and Mark's brows knit in confusion.

"Huh? I— I don't— I'm not sure."

"Cause Amber's gonna need to." Nolan states. "At some point... in the near future."

"Why would Amber need to know how to fight?"

"Because, Mark, one day, she'll need to." And he coughs. "One day soon."

"Soon?!"

"Well... Soon by Viltrumite standards."

⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆

Mark spends yet another night in your company, his shoulder against yours as you both stare up at your ceiling. Phones on charge, the lights shut off and the only other light being the slivers of moonlight that creep through your curtains.

"You know, you never told me your hero name." You state softly, your voice just as quiet as the raindrops that patter down onto the grass outside, pelting against your window and Mark hums quietly.

His hair's damp from his shower, his broad shoulders stretching yet another of your shirts although this time, it's an 'I Heart GILFS' T-shirt.

"Invincible."

There's a quiet silence between you and Mark glances towards you, only to see you already looking at him. Your expression is blank, unreadable and he can't fight the laughter that bubbles from his lips when you turn your back to him.

Pulling the covers up to your chin.

"Oh come on, it's not bad!" Mark giggles, a muscular arm wrapping around your waist and he pulls you towards him.

And the room gets quiet for a wholenew reason.

The warmth of his body is intense, the way his breath fans across your neck and the way his fingertips press into the softness of your belly.

And he dips his head, lips ghosting over your jaw as he cranes to meet your gaze.

He's grinning, dimples in his cheeks and shadows playing on his features.

"You're just jealous."

"Jealous of what, Vincible?"

"Jealous of my aweso— man, fuck you."

T🌼A🌼G🌼L🌼I🌼S🌼T

@lucky-beheaded ; @queen-of-gotham ; @coldvirginbitch ; @wittyjasontodd ; @a-n-a-n-a1 ; @dearlyya ; @broicouldjustbuyyousomekombucha ; @jasontoddswhitestreak ; @daydreams-and-peace ; @misstyy12 ; @fruticake ; @httpstes ; @waterflowersblog ; @glowinthedarkjellyfish ; @vm4879bb-blog ; @monaekelis ; @radlovesfics ; @allycat4458 ; @bigbodycity ; @feral010 ; @anesthesia-4rizzle ; @princesstrunkz ; @blackfox774 ; @sh1d0uryus31 ; @your-lovely-rose26 ; @slugstarzz ; @ripcolel0l ; @strawbiemilk420 ; @verysynical ; @kikiiguess ; @missam ; @luvvfromme ; @luvvcharxo ; @alma-ru3 ; @mxvoid26 ; @urfriendlyfrog ; @the-good-kooshe ; @troublesome-nara ; @secretaccountlol ; @syubseokie; @atanukileaf ; @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere ; @i-love-frensh-fries ; @love3vivian ; @boyofroyo1 ; @tamaranblaze ; @supersecretxreadersideblog ; @etphonehome0623 ; @markgraysonlover ; @icanmeltanigloo ; @itzmeme ; @buckturd

[kelisewrites]

you and katsuki weren’t dating or anything, but it didn’t seem like the two of you were just friends either. maybe a secret third thing?

now that you think about it, you and katsuki were unusually close. but you’ve always just thought it was casual, right? just friendly things that friends do?

like, he’ll always find a way to touch you. if the two of you are walking through a crowded hallway at school, you’ll feel his hand resting on your back, just to keep you close as the crowd pushes through.

or sometimes, when the class goes on a field trip, he makes sure he gets to sit next to you.

you’ll immediately feel the warmth of his thigh pressing against yours as he plops down in the seat next to you, your shoulder brushing against each others.

“here,” katsuki says, shoving a protein bar into your hands. “i know ya’ didn’t eat anything yet, idiot.”

“thanks katsuki, how’d you know?” you ask him, opening it up.

he shrugs. “‘cause i pay attention. no big deal.”

you hummed in response as you gazed at the two of your legs still touching. katsuki didn’t seem to mind it at all. there was just something so domestic about it all. even when sometimes you’d lay your head on his shoulder, on purpose just to mess with him, it wouldn’t work because he always let you.

you and katsuki were laying on the couch in the common area together, and you suddenly decided to lean back on him, your back to his chest.

you expected for him to at least give you some attitude, since he never lets anyone touch him. you know he hates it. weirdly enough, he didn’t say anything. in fact, you felt him shift closer to you, getting comfortable.

“aw, you’re really not gonna push me away? thought you hated people touching you?”

he snaps, “whatever,” before draping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you even closer.

everyone knows bakugou doesn’t have many people he would consider his friend. maybe except one person.

kirishima had been noticing how different his best friend had been acting, and he just had to bring it up.

“leave me alone, shitty hair”

“dude, you spend almost all of your time with her!”

“your point?”

“you like her.”

katsuki scoffs, “shut the hell up.”

“just saying, man.” kirishima nudges him, “its funny”

katsuki glared at him. “what’s fucking funny?”

kirishima gave him a look. “the way you act like it isn’t a thing.”

“you’re fucking annoying.”

“maybe. but im right, huh?” he teases.

he doesn’t answer right away, instead, he hesitates and scoffs.

“that wasnt a no.” kirishima smiles at him.

“i said, leave me alone.” katsuki says before storming off.

the next day, it was rainy after school, and of course katsuki was waiting for you by the doors with an umbrella so the two of you could walk back to the dorms.

his face softens when he sees you, and he grabs your bag, tossing it over his shoulder like he always does, before opening the umbrella waiting for you to step under it.

“took ya’ long enough,” he says as you two begin walking in the rain. “thought i was gonna be here waitin’ all day”

“you waited for me?”

“duh. knew you wouldn’t have an umbrella.” he shifts closer to you naturally, “and i always walk you back to your dorm don’t i?”

“yeah, but, dunno, it’s just kinda sweet.” you say softly.

he scoffs, “like i was gonna leave your dumbass.”

you nod and feel your heart jump at his words. was this casual? the thought of this possibly being something more had been eating at you all week, and you just had to speak up.

“y’know, people think we’re dating.”

he looks down at you, then grumbles, “so what?”

“what, you dont care? you’re not gonna.. i dunno, deny it?” you ask, gazing at him.

he just kind of pauses and shrugs, and you swear you notice a slight blush on his cheeks. “let ‘em think whatever they want.”

you blinked in surprise. really? was that it? no argument? before you could make any sense of it, or say anything back, he just grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, the touch unexpected, but so so familiar.

you didn’t end up saying anything else, and neither did he. the two of you just continued walking, hand in hand.

ᡣ𐭩

- completely inspired by this post!

[woninggg]

girll i crave, I CRAVEEE opposites attract, rival coworkers enemies to lovers typa smut with cheol and i think you are only one who can write this. i love your work and live for your work. thank you sooo muchhh for decide to write here💖

🐇:ahhh ty so much my love this made my day also this was so fun yet so hard to write(since English is not my first language) but I kinda love the result hehe

bite back~ 崔胜澈 Rival!Coworker!Choi Seungcheol × Rival!Coworker!Reader

Warnings: office AU, smut, degradation, dom cheol, desk sex, unprotected sex, minor choking, and mutual obsession disguised as hatred.

ᶻᶻ..more content under the cut┈✦

The worst thing about Choi Seungcheol wasn’t that he was good at his job.

No, that wasn’t it. If anything, you would have respected him for that. You didn’t mind competition—in fact, you thrived on it. But Seungcheol was a different breed of competitor. He wasn’t just good, he was arrogant about it. A smug, self centered, insufferable bastard who made sure you knew exactly where he stood in the company hierarchy.

And unfortunately, that spot was right next to yours.

The rivalry started the moment you joined. He had been the golden boy of the company, the one everyone looked up to, until you showed up. You weren’t intimidated by his reputation, nor were you interested in playing second to anyone. And from the moment you went head-to-head in your first project, you knew neither of you would back down.

It wasn’t just competition. It was war.

You challenged every one of his ideas. He shot down every one of yours. You undercut his suggestions in meetings, he made sure to find flaws in every pitch you presented. He stole deals right out from under you, and you made sure to return the favor.

And somehow, despite your mutual hatred, the company refused to separate you.

“You two work well together” your boss had said once, completely ignoring the way you and Seungcheol were glaring daggers at each other across the conference table.

Work well together. Right. If by “well” he meant in the same way oil and water did, then sure.

And tonight was no different.

You were stuck in the office well past midnight, both of you hunched over your respective desks, working on a last minute client proposal. Management had assigned it to both of you, because of course they had—insisting that your “combined talents” would deliver the best results.

You could barely focus with him in the room. every time he shifted, every time he sighed, every time his damn pen scratched against the paper, it grated on your nerves.

“Can you stop breathing so loud?” you snapped, eyes shooting daggers at him.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t realize my existence was such a burden on you.” Seungcheol’s voice dripped with sarcasm, not bothering to look up from his own paperwork.

Your eyes narrowed at the sound of his voice, your grip on your pen tightening until you feared it might snap.

“Don’t call me that,” you spat back. The last thing you needed was for him to think he could get under your skin. But it was already too late.

He chuckled under his breath, the sound irritatingly deep. “You’re really in a mood tonight, huh? What’s wrong, project not turning out the way you wanted?”

You gritted your teeth. “My project is fine.”

“Mm. Sure about that?” He finally looked up from his laptop, leaning back in his chair with that signature smirk you wanted to slap off his face. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re struggling.”

Your eye twitched. You had never hit a coworker before, but tonight might be the night.

“For fuck’s sake” you muttered, shoving your chair back and standing abruptly. “Do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?”

He mirrored your movement, standing as well, and you hated that he was taller, and that he could look down at you like he was amused.

“I don’t know” he mused, taking a slow step closer. “Do you ever get tired of trying to prove you’re better than me?”

Your jaw clenched. “I don’t have to prove anything. I am better than you.”

His smirk widened, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

The way he said 'sweetheart' was like nails on a chalkboard, and it made something snap inside you.

Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was the stress. Maybe it was the way the tension between you had been building for so long, thick and suffocating.

Or maybe it was just him.

The unbearable way he looked at you, like he was daring you to break first.

So you did.

You shoved him—both hands pressed against his chest, pushing with all your strength.

He barely stumbled.

Instead, he grabbed your wrists before you could pull away, spinning you around and pressing your back against your desk.

“What the hell are you—”

“You’ve been waiting to do that, haven’t you?” he murmured, voice low.

You refused to back down. Your chin lifted defiantly. “What, shove you? Yeah. Since the day I met you.”

His fingers tightened around your wrists. “I wasn’t talking about that.”

The air grew thick with something you hadn’t noticed before—or maybe you had, but had ignored it because acknowledging it would mean admitting that you felt something other than pure hatred for him.

“You hate me, right?” he murmured, pressing in closer, his thigh sliding between yours. “So tell me to stop.”

Your nails dug into his wrists, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. “Fuck you.”

His lips curled. “That’s what I thought.”

Before you could protest, his mouth was on yours. His hand moved, fingers wrapping around your jaw, grip just tight enough to make you suck in a breath.

The kiss wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was violent, all teeth and dominance and raw frustration.

His hands slid down, gripping your hips so tight it hurt, lifting you onto the desk as his body slotted between your legs. You yanked at his shirt, pulling him even closer, biting down on his lip just to make him groan.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you panted against his mouth.

He laughed darkly, his fingers already working the buttons of your blouse. “Of course not.”

And yet, the way he dragged his hands down your body like he needed to memorize every inch, told a different story.

Your skirt was shoved up, your underwear pushed aside, and then— a sharp gasp left your lips as his fingers slid inside you, finding you embarrassingly wet.

He groaned, his forehead pressing against yours. “Fuck. This whole ? You’ve been this soaked, and you’ve been acting like you hate me?”

You bit your lip, refusing to answer, but he wasn’t having it.

“Tell me,” he murmured, curling his fingers, dragging a moan from you. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

You shook your head, breathless, defiant. “You don’t get to win.”

He chuckled. “Sweetheart, I already won the moment you let me touch you.”

Your cheeks burned with fury, and you bucked your hips, trying to dislodge his hand. But it was too late. His thumb found your clit, circling it in a way that made your knees tremble.

You wanted to slap the smug grin off his face, to wipe the victory from his eyes. But as he continued to kiss you, all thought of anything other than the heat between you disappeared. Your hands moved of their own accord, reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. You didn’t want this, you told yourself, but your body had other ideas.

Seungcheol’s other hand reached up his thumb brushing against the swell of your breast, making your breath hitch. The friction of his trousers against your thighs was agonizing, the fabric rough against your sensitive skin. You could feel his erection pressing into your stomach, demanding attention.

“Say you hate me again,” he whispered against your ear, his breath hot and tickling. “Say it while you’re dripping all over my fingers.”

You bit back a moan, hating how much his words affected you. But you weren’t about to let him have the satisfaction of knowing how much you craved this.

So, you spat out the words with all the venom you had left. “I fucking hate you, Choi Seungcheol.”

His eyes darkened, his smile turning feral. “Keep saying it” he murmured, his thumb moving faster on your clit. “Let’s see if you can convince either of us.”

Your body betrayed you, arching into his touch, a whimper escaping your throat. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you—”

Seungcheol’s eyes burned into yours, he cut you off by sliding another finger inside you, stretching you out, as you felt the beginnings of a climax building.

His pace was brutal, pumping his fingers into you with no hesitation, curling them just right until your legs threatened to give out.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Bet you touch yourself thinking about me.”

You swallowed down the moan rising in your throat, your eyes squeezed shut. You clenched around his fingers, making him chuckle. “That’s what I thought.”

You were so close, so fucking close, but you’d be damned if you gave him the satisfaction of knowing it.

“Fucking asshole,” you bit out, even as your body begged for release.

His fingers pulled out of you instantly, leaving you empty, and you were about to curse at him until he grabbed your hips, yanking you back against him roughly.

“You want it rough?” he taunted, the sound of his belt unbuckling making your stomach tighten with anticipation. You didn’t answer, your breathing ragged.

You hated him for making you feel like this, for reducing you to this quivering mess of need. You hated him, hated the way his hands felt on you, hated how badly you wanted more. God, you despised Choi Seungcheol, and yet here you were, letting him do whatever he wanted to your body.

He slammed into you, all at once, stretching you open so suddenly that all you could do was gasp. The words died on your tongue, your nails digging into his arms, and his low groan against your ear sent a shiver down your spine.

“Look at you” he murmured, as he pulled out just enough to thrust back in, the force pushing you further up the desk. “So fucking cocky in the office, but now? You’re letting me fuck you open without a fight?”

You smirked, breathless. “Didn’t say I wouldn’t fight.”

And just to prove your point, you lifted your leg, wrapping it around his waist and rolling your hips deliberately. He cursed, his fingers flexing against your skin before he retaliated, grabbing the back of your knee and pushing your leg higher, forcing you open even more.

“You really wanna test me right now?” he growled, punctuating the words with a brutal thrust that had your head falling back against the desk.

Your moan echoed through the quiet office, and you knew the moment he heard it that you’d lost the upper hand.

"That’s more like it,” he muttered, dragging his lips along your jaw before biting down just enough to leave a mark. “All that attitude, but at the end of the day, this is what you really wanted, isn’t it?”

You refused to give him that satisfaction. “Fuck you.”

“You are.”

Your glare was half-hearted at best, especially when he pulled back just to watch himself sink into you again, a low groan slipping past his lips. “Shit. You’re squeezing me so tight. You sure you hate me?”

You bit your lip, refusing to answer, but the way your body responded to him told the truth.

Seungcheol knew it. And he was eating it up.

“I could make you cum just like this, couldn’t I?” he murmured against your ear, rolling his hips in a way that had you gasping. “Just from my cock stretching you open, fucking you deep, making you feel exactly how you’re supposed to?”

Your hands fisted in his shirt, your pride hanging by a thread. You couldn’t let him win. But then he moved his hand from your thigh to your throat, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze.

His grip wasn’t tight—just enough pressure to keep you grounded, and make your head spin with something you didn’t want to name.

“Say it.” His voice was a low command, rough and dripping with dominance. “Say you need me to make you cum.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse racing against his palm. Suddenly his other hand slipped between your bodies, fingers finding your clit with practiced ease.

Your entire body jolted at the contact, a choked moan escaping your lips before you could stop it. The overstimulation of his cock driving into you, his hand wrapped around your throat, and now his fingers rubbing slow, deliberate circles—it was too much.

“Seungcheol—”

“Say it.” His lips brushed against your jaw. “Or should I stop?”

You gasped, shaking your head immediately. “Don’t.”

He smirked against your skin, but his movements slowed, teasing. “Then say it.”

Your pride was shattered, as your body trembled with need. You couldn’t hold out anymore, not when the pleasure was coiling so tight in your stomach, threatening to snap.

“Fuck—I need you,” you whispered, barely audible.

Seungcheol groaned, his cock twitching inside you, but it wasn’t enough. “Louder.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, your face burning“I need you to make me cum.”

The satisfaction in his chuckle made you want to slap him, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it.

Because the moment the words left your mouth, he was relentless. His thrusts turned brutal, his fingers pressing harder against your clit, his grip on your throat tightening just slightly.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, possessive and smug.

The way he said it sent you spiraling, making the pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your entire body tensed, your walls fluttering around him as your orgasm hit you like a truck. You were barely aware of the sounds you were making—half moan, half desperate cry, until you felt him groan against your skin.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he whined, his rhythm faltering. “Look at you—fuck—so pretty when you cum for me.”

His hips stuttered, his hands gripping you even tighter as he thrust deep one last time, his own release hitting him with a guttural groan. You felt, the warmth, and the way he pulsed inside you—and fuck, you shouldn’t have liked it as much as you did.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, both of you catching your breath, the only sound in the room the ragged inhales and exhales of two people who had just crossed a line they could never uncross.

Then, slowly, Seungcheol leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath still uneven.

“Still think you don’t need me?” he murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Your glare was weak, your limbs too spent to push him away. “Shut up.”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through your chest, “So, are we going to pretend like this never happened or...?”

his fingers brushed along your thigh almost absentmindedly as he pulled out, leaving you feeling cold and exposed. You reached down to fix your skirt, your cheeks still flushed with the intensity of your orgasm.

And that’s when it hit you.

This wasn’t the end.

This was just the beginning.

more.┈✦

[spookyji]

yes or no… raw?! txt

txt on whether or not they wear condoms. nsfw… obviously. don’t come at me for my bad banner making skills lol

yeonjun? addicted to raw. it’s the creampie kink. he’s not as into breeding as much as he is addicted to the feeling of your raw pussy wrapped tightly ‘round his cock, and the mess he can make of your pussy as his creamy cum seeps out, only for him to push it back inside, god, loves claiming your pussy as his. ditched the condoms ever since you begged him for raw, can’t fuck with one now. or ever again. the kind of sex that leaves you with a pussy smeared and swollen with his cum, your panties shoved in his pocket, your thighs rubbing together when you try to keep it all inside but it’s dripping down your thighs when you walk,, and it’s not subtle.

soobin can’t. he really just can’t wear one anymore. happened by accident, when the condom broke and he couldn’t resist the thoughts anymore, the ones urging him to breed you to the brim and fill you up so full, oh, he was so fucked. so pussy drunk, so weak to his needs to breed, so romantic how soobin is obsessed with you, isn’t it? always praising you for taking him so well, asking you if you can feel how deep he is and how full you are of his seed, so sweet how he wants it all so bad. can it be considered an accident if soobin’s always coming inside… and if he thinks about it on the daily?

beomgyu means to, but he has a tendency to forget. mostly because while he has a box in his drawer in his room, he has a serious addiction to fucking anywhere but his room… and he hasn’t remembered to put another condom back in his wallet since who knows when. fucking in his studio, the practice room, living room, his car? yeah, he doesn’t have one, but his pull out game is the best, since gyu likes to cum on you. his favorite? all over your ass in doggy, dripping ropes of creamy cum down your thighs, fuck, until it’s such a mess… he’s not that interested in coming inside as long as he can cum on you. his dark bangs a mess over his sweaty skin, panting through parted lips, one hand jerking himself off roughly and the other gripping the plush of your curves, his milky white cum smeared and drooling down your skin, ‘s all beomgyu really wants.

taehyun might be the only one here with a fraction of common sense. like, he’ll eat you out for hours, make you beg for his cock, and he’ll still have the rational thought to make you wait to use protection. no birth control necessary on your part… taehyun isn’t that interested in coming inside, especially not when he’s so good with everything else, from his fingers to his mouth… you’d have to beg for him to not use protection, but then he’d pull out. he will come inside your mouth tho, loves blowjobs so much, his hand grasping your hair to push your head down further ‘til you’re choking, swallow it all, stick out your tongue to prove it. his guilty pleasure.

huening kai… really tries to remember, especially since his pull out game is so bad, but the thing about kai is he gets so seriously pussy drunk. like insanely pussy drunk. the kind of pussy drunk that makes him incoherent when he’s eating you out, he cums untouched in his sweats, all dizzy and blushing ‘cause it’s a little embarrassing how he can’t help it at all, a mess when you sink down on his dick and he completely forgot, feels a little too good to remember and then oh— he came inside. after sex, he’s so clingy, he doesn’t ever wanna pull out, sleepy and stuffed to the brim with his cock and cum, how much better can it get? kai is so cuddly he can make you forget too… sex with him is so sloppy and cute, how both of you are so drunk on intimacy that rational thought doesn’t exist anymore.

this took me 2 weeks to finish bc i am so lazy my god sorry

[honeyblackberries]

In the back seat (18+)

caleb x fem reader/mc smut

minors dni | inspired by diet pepsi by addison rae | cross-posted to ao3

word count: 1466

cw: simp caleb, soft dom caleb, he also likes to bite, pantie freak caleb, reader enables him, praise, oral (fem receiving), p in v, responsible car sex <333 (don't get freaky in a rental car irl), irresponsible intercourse (caleb doesn’t wrap it before he taps it), porn with feelings, porn no plot because idk how to write plot but i also can’t really write porn so maybe this is a secret third thing, no set pov.

names used: pips (pipsqueak but cuter), good girl, pretty girl, my girl

If Caleb is being honest with himself this moment is something straight out of his teenage fantasies. Driving along the coast with you in the passenger's seat, listening as you sing along to a song that’s been on repeat for the past half hour. Hair softly blowing in the wind as the late afternoon sun glows behind you like a halo.

You’re an angel he thinks, how else could you bless him with such a gift on one of his rare days off. The keys to his dream car—with the disclaimer that it was only a rental during his visit to Linkon—and that short sundress… His gaze unconsciously drifts from the road and onto you.

Maybe wet dreams are a better description for this. The way the hem of your dress rides up your thighs while you shift to find a more comfortable position, cotton panties peeking out underneath it.

Your eyes meet his and Caleb feels his pants tighten.

Today was supposed to be a well deserved break from all the demands that come with being the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel. Something relaxing. Yet he can’t help but feel inclined to the complete opposite. Back ramrod straight and hand, previously loose and confident on the wheel, now gripping it so tight that his knuckles strain.

“I'm happy you’re here,” you say sweetly and he has to stop himself from acting like a horny dog. “Is there anything you wanna do before we head home?”

“Eat you out,” he thinks dreamily.

“..What?”

Shit. Shit. How could he say that out loud!? He’s an idiot, a depraved fool—

“Well, okay.”

He almost crashes the car.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to—I mean—I didn’t mean to say it out loud,” you laugh at him and he isn’t sure whether to be mortified or turned on.

“Pull over.” He does.

Caleb doesn’t realise it but despite the less than innocent circumstances his silly reaction makes you smile. Happy at the expression that settles on his handsome face. How his eyes light up in a way you never really see anymore, giddy and unrestrained.

‘Cute,’ you want to tease, but he’s already rolling the tinted windows up. Undoing his seatbelt and moving into the back seat. Oh how could you keep him waiting when he’s just so eager? You undo your own seatbelt and amusedly follow along. Moving to get on top of him.

“Don’t hover pips,” he instructs—in that know-it-all voice he’s used since you were kids—and you don’t get the chance to consider it. Not when his hands trail under your skirt to grab your thighs and impatiently bring you down onto his face.

“Fuck you smell so good,” his nose presses right against your clothed heat. He inhales deeply. “I could get off just from smelling you, just from smelling these,” his lips part to let teeth graze the thin fabric of your panties.

“I can keep 'em when we're done, yeah?” His hot breath makes a shiver run through you in anticipation. His tongue licks down the centre where a wet patch starts to form. “I’ll cook dinner in return.”

You want to argue that he always cooks dinner. But you want what he’s currently offering more.

Your small hum of agreement is all he needs.

Safe to say, Caleb does mouth at you like a dog. Desperate, hungry, tongue heavy and slobbering. You have to push yourself against his chest to keep steady. The toned muscles there flexing as he eats like he’s been starved.

“Good girl, sittin’ so pretty for me,” his praise is barely understandable. Voice muffled and lower than a moment ago.

One of his hands leaves your thighs, his fingers moving to the fabric separating you. He teasingly pulls it back and lets go, a light snap against your skin. You flinch and he chuckles in response. He then pushes it to the side to expose you bare to him. Continuing to lick, this time with the addition of his thumb rubbing directly against your sensitive bud.

“Delicious,” he moans at the taste and sucks at your clit for more.

You’re not sure how long you last before everything crashes down all at once. Your orgasm racking your body and leaving you trembling. Dripping right into his open mouth.

The way your breath hitches and small whines you make when you cum always remind him how he could spend the rest of his life between your thighs. Forever wanting you pliant in his hold like this.

As you start to feel yourself coming down from the high, Caleb lightly bites at your tender flesh, making you yelp. He places a soft kiss in apology, even though you both know he isn’t sorry in the slightest.

In an act of revenge you start to reach for where he needs it. Fingertips barely brushing the large tent in his pants before he grabs your wrist to stop you.

“Next time pips, I’ll go crazy if I’m not inside you soon.” At that you’re suddenly flipped around, back pressed against the leather seat. Wedged in the cramped space afforded to you between the car and his large body.

Caleb looks down at you with a wide grin. The lower half of his face damp with your arousal and his own saliva.

“Let me put it in?”

Even when he’s like this the words come out as a question. He’ll only do it if you let him, only if you want it half as much as he does. His silver necklace dangles in front of you and reflected in it is your lips, curled up into an affirmative.

Caleb wastes no time. Hurriedly undoing his pants and freeing his hard leaking cock. Leaning over you with one hand beside your head as the other grasps his reddened tip and nudges you panties to the side with it. Lining himself up he sinks into you slowly.

“You’re heaven,” he yaps, already pussy drunk. "You feel like heaven, ugh—like you were made for me. Weren’t you?”

He shakes his head at his own words, as if a better explanation came to him. Then he resolutely bottoms out inside you.

“No, I was the one made for you.”

“Caleb—” you whine at the feeling of being so full. Arms moving to wrap around his torso, not sure if to hold him closer or push him away.

He groans, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to fight off the orgasm that would have had him cumming from the way you say his name. Testingly, he pulls out slightly just to push back in. Repeating shallow thrusts to get you comfortable.

“More,” you beg.

“Of course,” he kisses you and you can taste yourself on him. “I aim to please.” His pace quickens, becoming rough. You can’t help but clench at the immediate change.

“Oh shit—loosen up pretty girl.” You try to.

Over and over you feel his cock try to make your cunt give in to him, and when he feels the grip of your walls ease up slightly he angles his hips to hit deeper.

You claw at his back, the fabric of his shirt catching under your fingers. The feeling of him too much.

“You like that huh?”

The car windows are fogging at the spike in body heat, neither of you letting up until you both get your fill. The sounds of shallow breathing and skin against skin the only thing that can be heard.

Caleb bites your lip when he kisses you in between thrusts. Like he wants to devour you in every way possible.

“I’m—close,” you bury your face into his neck, trying to ground yourself.

He nearly slips entirely out of you. Hips starting to lose their rhythm, a sign that he is too.

“I know—fuck—cum with me.”

Your release comes first, and he doesn’t last long after.

“That's my girl.”

His movements slow as he spills into you. A white ring forming around the base of him as a mix of both your cum tries to leak out. He grinds a few times to make sure it stays then collapses on top of you.

The two of you remain like that for a few minutes, relishing in the feeling of your chests pressed together as you cool down. Caleb’s cock slowly going limp inside you.

His hands move to cradle your face, gently stroking your cheeks as he kisses all over with cherishing lightness.

“I love you.”

“Love you too Caleb.”

Then he has to go and ruin the moment.

“Panties please,” he holds out his hand. Asking for a treat.

You sigh, the post-nut clarity kicking in. “I’ll give it to you after I wash it.”

“Don’t wash it.”

“...”

a/n: rip need everyone to know this was initially supposed to be a sylus fic. also what do we think do we like me actually trying to make the layout nice/not write in all lowercase??

[oystermark]

Mohawk Mark x M!Reader (Suggestive)

synopsis: you're the only man version of yourself across all mark universes, still, he seems to recognize you just fine.

A/N: i wanted to make this longer with sinister and no goggles mark but it has been almost a year since i wrote anything and i got really tired.. but i can take requests. having said that im sorry if this is shit, its been a while.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────

You sigh wearily as you drag your feet out of your bathroom, a towel wrapped around your hips as you use another one to dry your hair. It has been… a long week to say the least. Your boss decided that you’re the guy to pawn off every little responsibility to, you’ve been sitting on your office desk like a shrimp for weeks, you arch and crack your back with a satisfied moan.

You pick up your phone and toss the towel on your hand to your couch as your eyes drift to the news blaring on your TV.

“Multiple versions of Invincible have been spotted around the city—”

You feel your heart rate pick up as you look through your window without getting up from your seat, your instincts kicking in, though if one decides to come after you…

“Stay in your homes, stay hidden and stay safe, these dangerous vers–”

You turn off the TV with a sigh.

This… “Invincible” guy happens to be your childhood friend, also your first kiss at 13 when you were both nervous and he wanted to feel how it felt to kiss a guy and then high school happened and–

No. Stop. 

Shit happens, life happens, people break off contact without meaning to all the time. Though, it does hurt when that person has been your friend since 3 years old, the person that shared his first kiss with you.

You can’t– don’t know what to call him now though, the last time you talked was… a year ago. For your birthday. He remembered that, surprisingly. Does he even still… look at guys that way, does he even remember–

This isn’t the time for this.

All this to say, in your professional opinion, none of the Mark’s would give a shit about you so you should be safe and sound. You don’t have anything to worry about.

You put your phone down and get up.

You hear the glass of your windows shatter before the sight registers in your mind. Your eyes shut, your arms defend your face as instincts kick in but you never feel the incoming cuts of the broken glass. Instead, the air is knocked out of your body as Mark slams you down on the floor with his body.

“What the fuck– You– hold up,” he sputtered as your gazes locked, yours is terrified while his turns from glee to…confusion?

He yanks you closer to his face by your chin with an iron grip as he looks you over,

“Well… it is you, huh. Just a dude now, though,” just as you finally think to say something he yanks you up from the floor and sits you down on the kitchen table –when did you even get here– and he saunters closer. 

“Look at that, all ready for me too?” he coos, his eyes drifting to your —almost undone by now— towel, he steps closer, his hands planted on either side of your thighs, “did you know I was coming?” he snickered at his own immature joke.

“What– what the fuck are you doing here?”

You finally spoke and it felt like torture through your dry and constricted throat, your hoarse voice evidence of your nervousness. He cackles as his hand moves from where it was planted, to your ass and giving it a squeeze, his smirk widening when you let out a surprised gasp.

“Nice ass”

You don’t know what to do, you feel frozen, you could try to fight, punch, run, do something. 

You’re frozen, either because of fear or because of how frayed your nervous system is from overworking for years that your body just gave up when being confronted with a fight or flight response and just deciding to freeze.

He pouts and squeezes your ass even tighter, making you groan in pain, “Come on babe, say something, I missed you– well, you weren’t a dude but, I know it’s you,” his other hand deciding to pinch and grope your thigh as he goes on, “I know you aren’t so boring, so c’mon, this is foreplay isn’t it? I bet you’re used to doing this shit all the time with your mark–”

He feels the impact of your punch on his throat, letting out a surprised but satisfied groan he looks you in the eyes, opening his mouth before you interrupt him with a glare, “I don’t know which version you are or whatever but me and ‘my’ mark don’t have anything to do with each other. Not...not for a long time,” finally hearing your voice, although hoarse, plus your glare and fuck that punch has him so fucking turned on already. He can feel the uncomfortable constriction of the suit becoming more and more prominent as you speak.

“Which means I’m not a leverage or a hostage to be used, I– I won’t give you any kind of advantage so just– please just—” your rambling gets interrupted by his lips latching onto your neck, you let out a whimper involuntarily as you try to push him off of you. Grabbing his hair –as much as you can anyway– you pull his head back with as much force as you can muster and headbutt him. Which goes as well as you’d expect. Your vision blurs and your ears ring, you can feel blood seeping from your nose as your ears finally register the exhilarated laugh. 

“Yes, fuck! That’s it baby, give it to me, I can take it,” he cups your face with one hand as the other brings your bodies closer by his other hand on your ass, “let me show you what that little bitch boy could only dream of doing to you, what you’ve been missing out on,” you groan in pain as he plants a rough kiss on your lips, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip with very clear intention to draw blood.

[talons-mcbeak]

The other day I was driving to work (my commute is like 40 minutes each way, mostly highway, yes it does suck) and I saw what seemed to be just a cloth bag thing on the road. Didn’t think much of it, didn’t bother changing lanes, figured it would pass right under my car nbd.

The fuckin thing was full of gravel, which was like… alarming and loud but it still did mostly just pass under my car so there wasn’t any damage from that. As I was going like “yikes that was ROCKS” and hoping my car was ok, the road curved a little and just past the curve, the truck that had presumably dropped the bag was just PARKED on the HIGHWAY, just right there in my fucking lane. The driver was out of the vehicle, adjusting stuff in the truck bed. On the fucking highway. In the left lane, where there was no shoulder, only a wall.

I was driving 70mph (speed limit 65, so well within acceptable speed and honestly slow enough for people to get annoyed but I’m not any kind of speed demon so 70 it is) and definitely 100% did not have time to brake. I did the quickest check of the next lane over and changed lanes (by which I mean SWERVED HARD) at the last second. I swerved hard enough that I felt like there was a slight risk of losing control of the car or even rolling it over, and I hadn’t even done a thorough lane check but fuck it, that was my only chance of not fucking dying and/or killing someone.

Somehow it all worked out fine. I didn’t crash, I’m still here, my car is fine, I didn’t hear anything later about any traffic incidents on that stretch of road so I assume the truck driver was fine too. I almost definitely have some PTSD because I’ve been having panic attacks and not sleeping great (I keep waking up hyperventilating and clenching my fists like I’m gripping a steering wheel) but that stuff is getting less frequent. It’s been 5 days so it’s still early.

I think a lot of people would process an experience like this as some kind of divine intervention or whatever, but I’m not religious and don’t feel that way at all. It was a scary situation created by someone’s incredibly dangerous decision on the road, and I was fortunate but could just as well have been less so. I have pretty decent reflexes and I’ve been a licensed driver for over 20 years so my judgment (of things like braking distance, etc) is usually good. I did make a joke in the group chat later about how that afternoon I found a posting for a job I’ve been really wanting so I was like “lol the universe is trying to apologize” but in reality, nah, this was just the best possible outcome of someone being very stupid on the road. I’m not even all that upset about the PTSD because it’s the best case scenario.

Anyway, be careful out there. Don’t do stupid shit.

idk. too many people drive like they don’t realize (or care) that they could die and/or kill someone. as a result of the way they are driving. sorry if i sound lame or ancient i just feel insane witnessing the lack of concern on a regular basis. The vehicle you are in is thousands of pounds going many miles an hour. do you know this

[noreasontobebland]

Sylus x Black Female Reader

You and Sylus Answer Sex Questions Based on Your Relationship (Questions 1-4)

“I’m going to bed.”

“Sylus!”

It’s not often you and him have time alone like this. He’s always managed to make time for you regardless, but you can’t help to feel like you’re a burden when you do so(he’s also established he genuinely loves being with you but I digress)

So when you spent the evening in his bedroom on the laptop and seen a questionnaire on tumblr you of course clicked on it.

And of course Sylus being Sylus he was so about to couldn’t indulge in your silly antics with him again.

“C’mon pleaseeee…I wanna know what you think—-“

“Think about what? How I make love to you? I think it’s one of the best and intoxicating experiences of my life and I cherish every sound, scream, and move you make when you’re under me. Goodnight.”

Oh you hated when he did that.

You peaked over his broad back facing you and began to teasing your finger on his bare chest. “Please.”

Sylus knows that will always co-sign on any idea you give him to partake on, it’s just you still seem to believe him when he teases you about it. It’s a fun game for him to see you beg sometimes.

“What do I get in return if I play this game?”

“I’ll suck your dick.”

“That sounds like a win win situation for us both instead of just me winning.”

Huffing at the fact that it’s true…you do enjoy giving him head, “Whatever you want. Please.”

“Let’s make it more interesting; with every 2 questions I answer, you owe me one favor. Deal?”

“There’s 20 questions.”

“Then I guess you’ll be owing me 10 fold.”

“Oh you are so—“

“Question 1.” He takes your laptop into his lap, pulling you by his side with a curled smirk, “How satisfied are you with your partner in bed? Scale 1-10.”

“….”

Sylus tilts his head at you, “Ladies first.”

“….very.”

“Oh don’t be shy now, sweetie you brought this up….give me a full sentence…”

“I am extremely…satisfied with our sex life. And to scale it…12/10.”

Sylus looks back at the laptop with a deadpanned look, “Just 12? I was going to give you a better score than that…seems I’m not doing enough to exceed your expectations.”

“No! No you are! You’re amazing in bed! Remember? Last night? I practically shouted about how much I love—-“

You begin to realize form the amused smile in his face he was just clearly fucking with you once again. And you pout, “You ass.”

“You are well above any lover I could ever have. You’re extremely attentive to what I want from you and to scale it…it’d be broken.”

It’s honestly astonishing to you how honest Sylus can be with you, you should be used to it by now, but he always seems to keep you on your toes with his words of affirmations.

“Question 2…What is something you never told your partner, but always wanted to do with them?…oh.”

“Is your fantasy that bad—?”

“No! I just….i don’t know I never really had any fantasies. You introduced me to everything….and I’m still learning from you new things so…”

You finally began to see a hint of blush flood his ears and cheek, despite having his famous poker face at you, you weren’t wrong he took all your first, and practically taught you what you knew now, and he still had a lot more he wanted to teach you. He leans back on the leather headboard and pretends to think, “I do have a fantasy myself, but I’ll save it for one of our IOU’s.”

“Heeeyy no fair!”

He hums before turning back to the laptop, “Question 3…What is something you won’t do even if your partner asked.”

“Interesting…well since you’re not that experienced—“

“Hey!”

“As long as it’s nothing that puts you in complete pain then I really won’t say no to anything.”

“What about pegging?”

He just stares at you with an unreadable look, “How do you—-?”

“I probably wouldn’t say no to you either. I trust you wouldn’t wanna do anything too bad…”

“Anal plug?”

“….moving on.”

“Question 4…What is something your partner does in bed you love?”

“Hm…its a lot but…well…maybe how you reach your arms out to me to kiss you while you’re cumming…you’re so cute—“

“OKAAYYUHHHH!”

“What?” He chuckles, “Don’t you love my honesty?”

“Thank you, Sylus….” You sigh trying to think, “I love how you…talk to me during. Y’know telling me in my ear how well I’m doing and if I’m alright. You sound…hot.”

You look up at him seeing his sly smirk, he kisses your temple before whispering, “Your comfort while I fuck you is hot to me as well.”

[snail-day]

You got this, Nerdjo!

Part One // Next Part // Masterlist

Gojo Satoru was not stalking you. He just happened to be standing in the board games aisle of the popular bookstore near campus. At the same time you were. For the third time this week. Total coincidence. Really. He was just hear for an expansion pack. For Dice. Okay maybe he is here for you. He's been thinking about you since the moment he saw you checking out the Gundam section last week. Really. He wanted to give you his opinion but...he didn't want to seem like a total dick. A mansplainer of sorts.

Oh god, there you are again. Picking up a game. Oh you look so focused. So beautiful. So smart. Wait, is that - oh no. Not that one.

You were reaching for a notoriously convoluted board game, one even Redditors have many complaints about, and before he could stop himself, his feet were moving. Mouth was moving. Everything was moving except his common sense.

Okay, Satoru. Tap the shoulder. Speak. Be your usual charming self. It's just a girl. A very pretty girl. Say something. Be normal.

He tapped your shoulder. Lightly. You turned to look at him with the kind of expression one might give to a stranger who had absolutely no business tapping them in a bookstore. Which, honestly, he didn't have the business to do. Then cleared his throat - loudly, awkwardly - and blurted out:

"Ireallydontthinkyoushouldpickupthatgametherulesaredifficultactuallytherulesdon'tevenmakesenseImeanwhoevencameupwiththem - "

Oh my god. Oh my god. Did I just say that out loud? What did I just say?

First, your brows knit together slowly as you blinked, turning towards him with a touch of confusion and offense on your face.

“You don’t think I can understand… the rules?”

Shitshitshit

His heart dropped straight to his ass.

Going to throw up. Going to throw up. Going to throw up.

How am I fumbling this bad?

He could practically see the social bar above his head draining to zero. As your very pretty, bright eyes stared up at him. He wondered just where did you get those eyes from? His future mother-in-law or father-in-law? Wait no don't be fucking weird.

“No, oh god no! I didn’t mean - uh, that’s not - I think you could totally get it! I mean, you probably solve logic puzzles for fun! You look like you’re really good at thinking! Wait, not that you look like a nerd, but - uh - like, in a hot way - shit, no, I mean - "

End me. Just smite me down right here between Settlers of Catan and Uno.

Waving his hands now, panicking in real time. You, somehow composed, just turned the game box over and calmly read the back, letting him spiral like a dying Beyblade.

“I just meant - it’s a bad game,” he added weakly. “Like, the win condition is unclear and the rulebook has typos and there’s no official errata - it's just, um… bad design.”

You finally looked back up at him. “So what game would you recommend?”

For a second, Gojo just stood there.

You're still talking to me. Oh god. Oh no. You, beautiful and stunning, want my opinion. My professional opinion. I can’t screw this up

“S-Splendor,” Satoru blurted, voice cracking at the edges. “Or maybe Wingspan? No wait. Cascadia? Or - do you like deck-building mechanics? I could make a whole list. I actually have a spreadsheet. A whole reddit. ”

You absolute loser.

But you were… smiling. Just a little. And nodding like you were genuinely interested.

Gojo, poor nerd Gojo, practically short-circuited on the spot.

You ended up leaving the store with a board game you didn’t plan on buying. Not because of the game, really. But because the tall, twitchy, white-haired guy with far too much enthusiasm had somehow roped you into a monologue about probability mechanics, game balance, and “that one time my friend Nanami rage quit a co-op dungeon crawl.”

He was… weird. But kind of charming. In a feral raccoon digging through your trash for affection kind of way.

“So, uh,” he said, hovering beside you outside the store, practically bouncing on his heels, “if you ever want to, y’know, play a game or something - like, totally casually, not like, a date, unless you want it to be, which - no pressure - uh - I just thought maybe you’d be into - um…”

He trailed off. Heart thundering. Couldn't even ask Reddit for Advice You stared. He swallowed. Blinking rapidly, those pretty-blues darted anywhere but you.

“…I run a D&D campaign,” Satoru said suddenly. “Every Friday night. Very low-commitment! Very chill! High-level story arcs. I made all the NPCs. I do voices. I - it’s cool. I swear.”

What are you doing what are you DOING you weren’t supposed to tell them about the campaign yet they’ll think you’re weird this is why you don’t have a girlfriend Satoru you idiot -

But you smiled. Then handed him your phone - little charm dangling off the case. Something cute. You probably picked out without a second thought. God, he’d kill to have matching phone charms with you.

“…Add your number,” you said. “Text me the details.”

He blinked at the phone, questioning how he is worthy enough to text you. Then promptly fumbled it, typed his name with three emojis, deleted them, re-added one, panicked, backspaced everything, and tried again.

You mentioned you had class.

Right. You're busy. That's fine. Yes. He has your number. Oh god why is his heart pounding so loud. Can you hear it? Could you feel it when his hand brushed against yours?

Satoru nodded too fast. Rushed words as you trailed away with a wave. He was left there wondering what your major was. Who you knew. If you'd actually show up next Friday. If he’d just imagined all of this.

When he finally texted you later, it read:

Hey it’s Gojo from the bookstore 🧠 I asked my party and there’s a spot open in the campaign 👀 you’d be perfect. Unless you hate fun. Then we can just play Wingspan lol anyway let me know!! pls 🥺

And before you could even respond, another message came in.

also pls ignore any typos i'm at the gym 💪getting ready for all those monsters we're going to be slayin ⚔️

Friday night. Gojo’s apartment. He had cleaned. Like, deep cleaned. Scrubbed corners no one would ever look at. Decorated the bathroom. Lit a candle that smelled like vanilla and cedar. (He may or may not have spent an hour on Reddit reading forums titled “What candle scents make girls fall in love with you?” and this one had the best upvotes.)

He had set the scene. Maps unfurled like ancient scrolls of destiny. Dice sets lined up in a neat little rainbow offering to the gods of chance. Snacks meticulously arranged in what was supposed to be a dragon shape, though now it looked like a pile with tiny wings. Still. It was the thought that counted.

Everything was ready.

You're coming. Oh god. You're really coming. You're gonna sit here. With me. Maybe next to me. Or maybe not. No - no, no, you can sit next to Shoko. Or Nanami. Shit. What if you like Nanami? Oh my god, what if you like Nanami and not me? He’s got that broody thing.

He paced.

Screw it. Just play my campaign. Laugh at my jokes. Please. Just - please think I’m cool. Just once. Please don’t see through how desperate I am.

He adjusted his glasses. Then adjusted them again. Re-checked his rulebooks even though he wrote half the notes inside them himself. He’d already rehearsed your character’s intro fifteen times. But he did it again.

“…and as the tavern door creaks open, a figure steps through the mist. Cloaked in shadows, yet - no. No, too dramatic. They’ll think I’m trying too hard. Which I am, but like, subtle. Okay. Again - ”

His voice cracked mid-practice. He flopped down into his DM chair, then stood up again two seconds later, muttering, “Nope, can’t sit. Gonna combust.”

They’re gonna be here soon. They’re gonna walk through that door and I’m gonna die. Literally die. Headlines: Local Dungeon Master Dies When Pretty Person Shows Up.

The doorbell buzzed. Satoru physically jolted. Then stood there frozen in front of the door, hands out like he was about to catch a falling star. Or a live grenade.

Okay. Okay. It’s fine. Just breathe. Be normal. Don’t say anything weird. Don't tell them about the custom soundtrack you made for their backstory. Don't confess anything emotionally compromising in the first five minutes.

He opened the door. A stupid smile formed on his face.

Is he blushing? Please don't be blushing. Oh no. They’re even cuter than I remembered. I’m so screwed.

Wearing the coziest hoodie. Carrying a dice bag. Smiling. Beside you - because of course - was Geto Suguru. Satoru’s longtime friend. Fellow player. Tall. Cool. Calm. Hair tied back in a lazy bun that somehow made him hotter. That bastard. Satoru barely had time to panic before you laughed at something Geto said. A soft, amused laugh that curled around Gojo’s ribs and squeezed.

Then it happened. You looked at Geto. Blushed. Just the faintest pink brushing your cheeks. Just a second too long of eye contact. Just enough to punch Satoru square in his already fragile, overly romantic, nerdy heart.

You don’t like him. Right? No. It’s just warm. It’s almost summer. The hallway’s probably stuffy. Your hoodie’s too thick. That’s it. That’s all it is.

“Hey,” you greeted, blissfully unaware of his internal collapse.

“H-Hey!” Satoru yelped, voice cracking at a completely unnecessary octave. “You made it! That’s so cool. That’s - you look. Uh. Dice. You brought dice. Awesome. Good job.”

What the hell are you saying? Shut up.

Geto smiled at him. That smug, easy smile that Satoru had seen melt hearts and start trouble since freshman year.

“You didn’t tell me your new player was cute,” he said, tone maddeningly casual. You blinked. Satoru stopped breathing.

“Oh,” you said, voice softening, eyes flicking away. A little flustered. “Um. Thanks.”

You’re just being polite. That’s not real. That wasn’t real. Right?

Satoru forced a smile that came out more like a grimace. His brain was melting. His heart was clawing against his ribs.

“Haha! Yeah. So anyway! Let’s, uh. Go. Sit. Down. And have a drink. Or a seat. Or both. Whatever people do. When they enter rooms. With other people.”

Oh my god, please shut up. Please shut up. You’re going to die here and your ghost will be a virgin forever.

a/n: if you see any mistakes...no you don't totally not editing this while getting ready for wicked...totally not

[acquelus-ussy]

Im thinking of...

Yandere!jock x wallflower!reader

Yandere!Jock is a fucking playboy, but you chose to ignore that. You've seen him do good things when his friends aren't around.

That's why you had a crush on him...

For a jock, he's pretty smart. He's a frat leader, a social butterfly, and would probably graduate with Latin honors. However, the only downside to him is that he can be a bully.

So, during the time you had a crush on him, he was the first to interact with you. But he wasn’t flirting or anything he was just asking if you were done with something.

And you being the wallflower that you are you blush you think to yourself

"is he really talking to me?"

And him, being the playboy jock, noticed the hue in your cheeks and decided to "play" with you.

"i can't believe you're blushing just because i talked to you wallflower haha cute"

It was a long time of banter between the two of you, and you thought there was something. But of course, reality strikes when a close friend of yours tells you his true intentions.

But...

Ever since you ignored our handsome jock over here He cant seem to get a hold of himself

He goes to nightclubs almost every night, trying to find a girl who looks like you, smells like you, and talks like you. But no matter how hard he tries, he knows he needs you.

The next day at school, you were in the library with a classmate, working on a school project, when he barged in. Oh yeah, he had been asking around if anyone had seen you it's not like he's in love or anything.

He pushes your classmate out of their chair and tells them to get lost. Then, grasping your arms, he looks at you and asks,

"Where the fuck have you been? We need to talk. I'm the most wanted man on campus, and you just ignore me like that? Doing that won’t make me give you more attention, you know."

"so what i don't fucking care i don't like you anymore"

Pang

What you said hurt him, but then again, why is he acting like this? A lot of girls love him and want to be with him, so what’s up with you? He knew you liked him but what the fuck happened?

Later that night... You wake up to glass shattering

Intruder?

A hand suddenly cups your mouth and you feel something hard on your back then you hear

"shh baby you got me all bricked~ up there's no use in fighting me i know how much of a fucking slut you are~"

The last thing you remember was passing out

You wake up to a soft, comfy bed but hold on… Why is there something heavy stopping you from moving? You turn your head and see him.

"You know, my love, a lot of girls dream about this… but you're the only one I want. I'm done being a player." He kisses you on the forehead.

"And also, don’t worry about school and your parents I called up some old buddies," he says, continuing to hug you like there's no tomorrow.

It sucks being a wallflower no one would look for you but don’t worry because he will~

---

This is probably the most longest fucking thing i wrote

[bloodismymedium]

Horror hits so different than any other genre because there’s something to get out of even the most b-rated schlock horror films that makes it worth the admission, whether it’s great practical effects or just a really cool idea for a monster. There is merit to find in almost any horror or horror sub-genre film. I want to kill myself when I have to sit through a bad comedy or action movie but I have watched over a thousand horror films in my lifetime and in almost all of them I find at least one thing that I liked enough to where I don’t regret watching it, even the really bad ones because when it comes to horror, my number one concern will always be if it entertains me, whether if it’s in the way it intended or not.

Of course, maybe I’m not the best source for criticism on this topic since I’m a die hard Full Moon and Troma girlie and my biggest hyperfixation in high school was for the fucking Gingerdead Man. My biggest hypefixation now is the single most criticized and vehemently hated analog horror of all time so idk don’t listen to me maybe…

favorite genre of image

[be4chywritez]

serious | oscar piastri

oscar piastri x fem!reader

rec: #37 with oscar piastri please? maybe they’re arguing or smth and he says something without thinking and reader starts crying? thank u!!

recs are open + prompt list

beachy’s masterlist🐚

warnings: none except me being really high and writing this

You weren’t even sure how the argument started.

The plan had been simple—spend a quiet night with Oscar, finally get some time together before his schedule got crazy again. You had been curled up on his couch, legs thrown over his lap, teasing him about how helpless he was when it came to assembling furniture. It was harmless, the way most of your jokes were.

“You’d be lost without me,” you said with a grin, nudging his thigh. “Like, I’m pretty sure you’d still be eating your takeaway off a cardboard box if I wasn’t around.”

He chuckled at first, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t be lost—I’d just have a slightly more… minimalist lifestyle.”

“Minimalist?” You snorted. “Oscar, you didn’t even own proper plates before I got here.”

He rolled his eyes. “I had plates.”

“Oh, my bad, I meant one singular plate and a set of mismatched cutlery you probably stole from McDonald’s.”

You expected him to laugh, to play along like he always did. But instead, his expression shifted—his jaw tensed, his fingers drummed absently against your shin. The lighthearted teasing suddenly felt heavier, like you had unknowingly poked at something deeper.

You should’ve stopped there, but you didn’t.

“Face it,” you said, grinning. “You’d be a disaster without me.”

And that’s when he sighed, long and sharp, before muttering, “You never take anything seriously.”

Your smile faltered.

“What?”

Oscar ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “It’s like nothing matters to you.”

The words cut deeper than you expected. You blinked, suddenly unsure if you had misheard him.

“Nothing matters to me?” you repeated, voice quieter now, more careful.

He sighed again, still not looking at you. “I don’t know, sometimes it just feels like you don’t take me seriously.”

Your stomach twisted.

“Are you—” You let out a breath, trying to steady your voice. “Are you actually saying that? After everything?”

He exhaled through his nose, frustration evident in the way his shoulders tensed. “You’re always joking, always acting like nothing’s a big deal. I get that it’s just how you are, but sometimes… I don’t know, sometimes I just wish you’d be serious for once.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening.

It wasn’t just the words—it was the way he said them, like he actually believed them.

Like he believed you didn’t care.

You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly as your vision blurred. You didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much that hurt. But the lump in your throat wouldn’t go away, and before you could stop it, a tear slipped down your cheek.

Oscar’s entire body stiffened.

“Shit,” he muttered, his frustration vanishing in an instant. His eyes widened as he reached for you, panic creeping into his voice. “Shit, shit, shit, c’mere.”

You turned your face away, wiping at your cheek quickly, but it was useless. Another tear followed, and Oscar groaned under his breath, like he physically hated himself for making you cry.

“I didn’t mean that,” he said hurriedly, shifting closer, his hands finding your face. “I swear I didn’t mean that.”

Your voice wobbled as you pulled back slightly. “Then why did you say it?”

He winced, his thumbs brushing over your damp cheeks, like he was trying to undo the damage. “I don’t know—I was frustrated, I wasn’t thinking.”

You let out a shaky breath. “You think I don’t take you seriously?”

“No,” he said instantly, voice thick with regret. “No, that’s not true. I know you do. I just—I was being a fucking idiot.”

You sniffled, eyes still glossy. “I always take you seriously, Oscar. I literally revolve my entire schedule around your ridiculous race calendar. I watch hours of onboard footage with you even though half the time I don’t even know what you’re analyzing. I show up to every race I can, I defend you when people online say dumb shit—”

“I know.” His hands were still on your face, his forehead now pressed against yours. His voice was softer now, desperate. “I know, baby. And I love that about you. I was just—I was just being an asshole.”

You swallowed hard, not fully ready to forgive him yet, but also not wanting to keep crying. His thumbs kept smoothing over your cheeks, his touch warm, grounding.

“I don’t like fighting with you,” you admitted, voice small.

“I hate fighting with you,” he murmured, tilting your face up slightly. “I especially hate making you cry.”

You let out a small, unsteady exhale, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. “You really were an asshole just now.”

“I know.” He kissed the tip of your nose, then your forehead. “Biggest asshole on the planet. Probably breaking some kind of world record.”

Despite everything, you huffed a quiet laugh. “I was this close to throwing a pillow at you.”

“I deserve worse.” He kissed your cheek this time, soft and lingering. “Like, I don’t know, maybe being forced to watch an entire season of your guilty pleasure reality show.”

You narrowed your eyes. “The Bachelor?”

He groaned but nodded. “Yeah. If that’s what it takes.”

You pretended to think about it. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

His lips finally twitched into something closer to a smile. “So lucky.”

And then, finally, he kissed you—soft and slow, like an apology woven between every press of his lips.

You let yourself sink into it, because even when he was frustrating, even when he made dumb mistakes, he was still yours.

And you took that seriously.

[dollbrbie]

♡ ⸝⸝ I LOVE YOU

cw. fratboy isagi, smut mdni, body worship, soft sex, isagi is so so so sweet in this, reader is a lil tipsy tho, crying during sex lol, they love each other sm it’s nauseating, very fluffy at the end

“isagi. fuck off.”, you groan, isagi’s hand on your wrist as you attempt to walk away.

“no. i’m so done with you pretending like you’re fine without me. you- you never wanted this. there’s no way you just randomly wanted to leave me.”, he frowns with a frustrated tone.

“i’m not doing this in front of everyone.”, you sigh, “it’s embarrassing.”

you’re not even sure how you got yourself in this situation. you were just partying with your girls, actually having some fun since your breakup. and the next minute, you had isagi’s hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you away with his cheeks flushed in anger.

he huffs, pulling you towards him before looking for some empty bedroom to talk to you in, “well, we’re in private now.”, he crosses his arms, “and you’re gonna tell me why you left me, i don’t deserve this.”

you frown, “i told you why..”

“i don’t believe you. i don’t believe that you just wanted to throw everything away so randomly.”

“it wasn’t- it wasn’t random.”, you sigh, “shouldn’t you be happy about this? i don’t get why you keep holding onto this, onto me.”

he frowns in confusion, “why would i be happy that my girlfriend left me?”

maybe it was the fact you were tipsy, maybe it was because you missed him. but, you just felt yourself pouring out the truth that was so desperate to come out, “because i’ve- i’ve never been good enough for you. everyone says it! we don’t make sense.”

“what?”, he mumbles

“don’t act like you don’t know. you’ve heard what your friends said and it’s not like you said anything to them about it.”, you sigh, crossing your arms and looking up at isagi with a frown.

“my friends.. said shit to you? baby, please- please tell me you didn’t break up with me cause of that.”, he utters, itching closer to you with a pained expression.

you shrug, “yeah, but it’s not like they were wrong, so..”

he rubs up your shoulders, his touch so gentle and reassuring that you just wanted to cry in his arms. but you couldn’t. there’s no way you could do that right now.

“what did they say?”, he demands, an unusual tone for isagi.

“that- that i wasn’t good enough, that you shouldn’t be with a girl like me cause im too mean or whatever..”, you admit, causing isagi’s jaw to clench as he rubs his hand over his face.

“and you listened to that? you really let those assholes to you? you know i’m not even that close with them. fuck- i can’t believe you’d just let that get to your head.”

you feel your throat tighten at his tone. it was so rare to see isagi this heated, this angry, “can you stop getting mad at me?”, you ask with a crack in your voice. god that’s embarrassing.

isagi feels his heart break a little at that.

“i’m sorry- shit, i’m sorry, baby.”, he whispers, pulling you to his chest once he see’s you glossy eyes.

“i didn’t know what to do.. i thought i was doing you a favour.”

“don’t ever say shit like that. if you think i’m gonna let a few words from those guys in my frat break us up then you clearly don’t know me, baby.”, he declares, looking down at your face.

you were weirdly pretty like this, your eyes red and glossy, your glossy lips parted and your eyebrows pinched together.

and isagi just can’t help himself, pulling you into a rough, passionate kiss. he’s needed this, needed you.

and he was gonna make sure you knew it.

. . . ♡

you cry out as you feel your fourth orgasm build up, that blinding white pleasure creeping up on you again, “isagi- baby, please. it’s too much..”

“you can do just one more, can’t you? c’mon. show me how much you missed me, yeah?”, he coaxes, his hand gently wrapped around you neck as he pulls you in for a desperate kiss, bottoming out inside of you and kissing your cervix.

isagi has never been so rough before and it felt good.

the way he took you like he knew you belonged to him, like he was really marking you as his and claiming his territory was something you didn’t know you needed. he was always so sweet and gentle that it had never even crossed your mind that isagi could be like this.

“you’re mine. my girlfriend. i’m never letting you even think of leaving me again.”, he groans against your lips as his cock throbs against your gummy walls, your eyes glossy from the overwhelming pleasure.

you feel your walls flutter around his cock as you whisper, “i’m yours, baby.”

as soon as isagi feels those words he’s been so desperate to hear, he whimpers. resting his forehead against yours, he continues fucking you like he’s never before whilst his free hand explores your body, rolling and pinching your sensitive bud.

you moan against his lips, wrapping your legs around his waist as your hips stutter in attempt to match his pace, your body so, so close to climaxing.

“y’gonna cum, aren’t you?” he mumbles, “i can feel it.. c’mon, cum for me, please?”

and you do, crying out in pleasure as you attach your lips to isagi’s, his own orgasm hitting him like a ton of bricks once he feels your walls flutter around him, “oh- shit..”

you feel your thighs grow weak and your toes curl, rolling you eyes back as you struggle to catch your breath. all you could do was focus on isagi, his face beautiful as he cums. god, you missed this, you missed him. you didn’t even begin to think how much you needed this man before, but you had been so naive.

you are hopelessly in love with him.

“i love you- i love you- i love you-”, you chant like a beautiful prayer, your eyes watering from the intense feeling in your chest. this wasn’t your orgasm, it was your heart. your heart finally realising that isagi was your soulmate.

“i love you too- so much, baby. please, i can’t do this without you. i can’t live without you.”, he admits, his voice trembling as he cradles the back of your head.

“i’m not leaving, isagi. never, ever again.”, you promise.

and this is a promise you’ll keep because the truth was too strong.

you couldn’t live without your fratboy, yoichi isagi.

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[oaksgrove]

please hear me out- do you see the vision of laswelll scolding price because he's too dumb to let go of one of the rare good things in his life? i just need a man like john price to fight for me (for his love) back 😩

Don’t Be an Idiot, John.

Pairing: John Price x Reader

Synopsis: After pushing you away, convinced you deserved better, he finds himself on the receiving end of a well-earned lecture from Kate Laswell. And for once, he listens. Because if there’s one fight he can’t afford to lose—it’s the one for you.

Warnings: Angst, emotional conflict, second chances, Price being stubborn, but ultimately a soft, devoted idiot.

Laswell had seen John Price survive war zones, outmaneuver enemies, and command respect from the deadliest soldiers on the planet.

But right now?

Right now, he was just a complete idiot.

She sat across from him in a dimly lit café, arms crossed, staring him down like a disappointed mother. The silence between them was sharp, cutting through the hum of quiet conversation and clinking mugs. Price, on the other hand, sat there looking like a man being read his last rites—tired, grim, and entirely too stubborn for his own good.

“So, let me get this straight,” Laswell started, voice dangerously calm. “You had someone—a good someone—who cared about you, made your life better, and for some inexplicable reason, you let them go?”

Price exhaled slowly, rubbing his fingers along the rim of his coffee cup. “Wasn’t that simple, Kate.”

“No, John. It was that simple,” she snapped. “And you made it complicated.”

His jaw tightened. He didn’t want to have this conversation. Not now. Not when he was already haunted by the sound of your laughter, the warmth of your touch, the way you had looked at him like he wasn’t just a soldier, but a man worth loving.

Laswell leaned forward, her sharp eyes locking onto his. “You can sit there and tell me all the bullshit reasons you convinced yourself it wouldn’t work, but let me remind you of something—people like us don’t get a lot of second chances, John. And when we do, we don’t waste them.”

Price let out a slow sigh, pressing his fingers against his forehead. “She deserves better,” he muttered, like the words hurt to say out loud. “I’m not exactly… an easy man to be with.”

Laswell rolled her eyes so hard Price thought she might strain something. “For fuck’s sake, John. She chose you. Despite the missions, despite the scars, despite the fact that you probably smell like cigars and gun oil half the time.” She jabbed a finger at him. “And instead of fighting for it, for her, you pushed her away. Because what? You were scared?”

Price didn’t answer. Because maybe—just maybe—that was the truth of it.

Laswell exhaled, shaking her head. “I’ve seen good men lose everything to this job, John. I’ve seen them come home to empty houses, to regrets they can never fix.” Her voice softened, just a fraction. “Don’t be one of them.”

Price looked down at his hands, his mind a battlefield of memories.

The way you had always welcomed him home with that tired, knowing smile.

The way your fingers traced over his scars without fear, without pity.

The way you had kissed him—really kissed him—like he was something more than just a soldier, something worth coming home to.

And then he remembered the hurt in your eyes when he had let you go.

Laswell’s voice cut through his thoughts one last time.

“If you love her, fix it. Because if you don’t, John…” She leaned back, shaking her head. “You’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”

Price sat there for a long moment, staring at his coffee like it might have the answers.

Then, without another word, he stood up, grabbed his coat, and walked out the door.

Because fuck being an idiot.

He wasn’t about to lose you—not without a fight.

The city hummed around him—cars passing, distant voices in the night—but none of it mattered.

Not when the only thing he cared about was you.

He hesitated for half a second before knocking, hard enough to make sure you heard, but not so much that you’d think it was an emergency. Though, in a way, maybe it was.

Seconds passed.

Then—soft footsteps. A pause. And finally, the door cracked open.

And there you were.

Hair a little messy from sleep, wearing one of those oversized sweaters he always liked seeing on you. Your eyes widened slightly when you saw him, surprised—hesitant.

“John?” your voice was cautious, uncertain. “What are you doing here?”

Price exhaled, like he’d been holding his breath the entire time.

“I fucked up.” The words were gruff, unpolished. “I shouldn’t have let you go.”

You blinked, lips parting slightly, like you weren’t sure if you had heard him right.

He ran a hand down his face, trying to steady himself. “Kate gave me a proper bollocking,” he admitted, almost like a grumble, and you couldn’t help the tiny twitch of your lips at that. “Told me I was an idiot. She was right.”

You swallowed, crossing your arms over your chest. “John… you ended things. You made that choice.”

“I did.” His voice was firm, resolute. “And I was wrong.”

Silence stretched between you. You wanted to be angry. You had been angry. But standing here, with him looking at you like you were the only thing in the damn world that mattered…

It made it hard.

“You deserve better,” he continued, quieter this time. “I thought walking away was the right thing to do. Thought I was saving you from a life of waiting, worrying—” He let out a sharp exhale. “But I was just a coward.”

Your heart clenched at that. Because damn him, you knew how much it took for John Price to admit fear.

“I don’t need saving, John,” you said, voice steady. “I just needed you.”

His jaw flexed, and for a second, you saw it—the way his shoulders sagged, the way his eyes flickered with something raw.

“I love you,” he said, simple, honest. “And if you’ll let me… I want to fix this.”

Your breath hitched. “And if I don’t?”

His lips pressed into a thin line, like the thought alone was unbearable. “Then I’ll leave you alone.” A pause. “But I won’t stop loving you.”

Damn him.

You looked at him, at the man who had fought wars and won battles—but was standing in front of you now, waiting, hoping. Fighting for you.

You took a slow step forward, then another. Until you were close enough to feel the warmth of him, to see the slight tension in his posture as he waited for your answer.

Then, softly, you murmured, “You’re an idiot, John Price.”

A beat.

Then his hand lifted, warm and familiar against your cheek. “I know.”

And when you leaned in, pressing your lips to his—when he let out a shaky breath, pulling you closer, like he wasn’t about to let go again—

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