#but also just me wrapping him up in caution tape

[moeblob]

Huevember1

The bright yellow just made me think of warning signs and (gestures) this guy's sanity is wrapped in caution tape. My beautiful raccoon son, Right.

[yeonzzzn]

I'm in a spooky vibe rn and I've been thinking about one of the enha members (hyung line) with a scream mask ( y'know from the movie sjshsj) about to m*rder reader but idk they get turned on and both got freaky 🫦

fffuuuuccccckkkk anon your brain is 😍 love this idea so much (fun fact scream is my favorite slasher movie and I even have a ghost face tattoo) I hope this is exactly what you’re looking for🤭 it’s funny because I also main ghost face in dead by daylight so when I saw this request I got SOOOO happy ~ I also made this a lot longer than I expected to but oops🤭🤭

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chill & kill: sim jaeyun

part one of chilling & killing 🔪 | spotify playlist

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 6.4k

You sit up on the couch, eyes widening as you grab the TV remote and turn up the volume. 

“The mysterious ghost face kill strikes again, killing two more college students in the library this morning. The bodies were discovered by…”

You quickly shot to your feet, grabbing your jacket and camera and slipping your feet into your boots tying them quickly as you slipped out your dorm door. 

You never were so happy to live on campus as you ran from the dorm building and across campus to the library. Students surrounded the main entrance and you pushed your way through finally seeing the inside of the library. 

“Hey!” a police officer yelled at you when you slipped under the caution tape, “You can’t be back here!” 

You eyed him, pulling out your student journaling ID, “I have every right to be here.” 

The officer tried to protest, but you kept your stride, making your way to the bodies ignoring the yelling officer behind you. 

The closer you got, the more the smell of blood filled your senses, making your skin crawl. Your journaling partner was already on the scene, standing at the edge of the other caution tape marking off the two bodies. 

You stood beside him, your heart sinking as you took in the bodies of the two females lying dead in front of you. They were just freshmen. Barely made it into college and fully started their lives. 

From what you could see, they were stabbed multiple times in the chest and abdomen. One of their necks was slit, and the other looked like they were stabbed through their throat. They suffered, for sure. 

“Who found them?” you asked him, taking your eyes off the dead bodies and turning to your partner. He had one arm crossed over his chest and gripped his elbow as his other arm was reached up and fingers gripping his chin. 

He slowly tilted his head to look at you, streaks of his black hair fell into his eyes, “Funny enough,” he sighs, “Sunghoon and myself.” 

You completely turned your whole body to him, “That’s why you’re here before me?! Jake, what happened?!” 

Jake chucked, “You're more worried that I was here before you?” you narrowed your eyes at him, and he sighed again, completely wrapping his arms over his chest, looking back at the bodies. You could have sworn you saw a sparkle glint in his eyes. Jake has always been excited to be on the scene, same as you. But he enjoyed it a little bit more than you. He’ll make one damn good detective one day for sure, “Wanted to check out a book and saw the door already unlocked for the campus not even fully being opened yet. And that's when we found the bodies.” 

“Where is Sunghoon now?” you asked, looking around the library, spotting him with the librarian and being questioned by a detective. 

You went to walk over, to ask him questions, but Jake stopped you, putting a hand on your shoulder and pulling you towards him, his arm wrapping around over your chest, “Don’t question him, he’s really shaken up,” You wanted to protest, only for Jake to squeeze you tightly against him, your back pressing further into his chest, “Please, YN, he’s my best friend. I’ll take care of it. I promise.” 

You sigh and nod. Letting Jake take the lead with this one. 

But you still had a job to do. So you pulled out your camera, taking a few photos. Once you finished with the photos, you pulled your journal from your back pocket, asked Jake a few questions, and took his account down then turned back to the bodies and took your own notes. 

You circled the area, taking in every inch and piece of information you could. Jotting down everything in your little notebook. 

Jake kept his eyes on you, watching you do your thing. His eyes sparkled more the longer his eyes lingered on you. He eventually dropped his gaze and went back to looking at his best friend, watching as he sat at one of the tables, knees pressed to his chest and hands curled into his hair. The small smile Jake had fell at the sight of his best friend and—

“Jake!” You called for him, bringing his attention back to you, “I think I found something.” 

“Oh?” He walks over to you and kneels down on the floor beside you, your camera resting on your knees as you point your finger toward one of the dead girls, “What am I looking at honey?” 

You groaned and rolled your eyes, “Under her body, there’s a black glove,” you looked at Jake. His jaw clenched tightly, “The killer must have accidentally lost it, dropped it, or whatever. Maybe she fought them or something. I don’t know. But I want to figure it out.” 

You took a few close-up photos of the glove and turned back around to show Jake, noticing a scratch mark sliding down the left side of his neck. You hadn’t seen it before since you were standing on his right side, but it looked deep and irritated, “What happened there?” You reached up to touch it, but he grabbed your hand quickly and set it down at your side. 

“Hoon and I were wrestling earlier at our apartment and I hit the side of our entertainment center, I am fine.” 

You thinned your lips into a line, boys will be boys you guess. Their apartment was a lot smaller than the dorms on campus, they must have been fucking around at a good spot to have knocked Jake into their entertainment center. 

Eventually, the police shooed you and Jake off the scene. Forcing you two to head to the journaling office. You printed off the photos you took and made copies of your notes, passing them to Jake. 

You glanced at the clock, it was now ten thirty am and classes would be resuming like normal, so you and Jake went your separate ways. 

Jake was still new to being a journalist. You were a club of two, consisting of just you and another girl who helped write the articles for you while you took care of the rest. She wrote her own things, mostly on the sports or other small crimes that happen on campus, but with the ghost face killer making his rounds, you took up the role of this case with her helping on the side. At first, you took it all on yourself, but as the body count started piling up, you needed the help. So you let her help and put out an application for an extra set of hands, which Jake answered. 

You’ve seen him around campus before he joined you. Was born and raised in this town. Being the town's sweetheart and golden puppy boy. You did some research on him before allowing him into your club, can’t have the killer join you, right?

He was the captain of his soccer team in middle and high school. Has taken his school’s team to the championships multiple times and was the heartthrob of the school. He donated to charity when he could and volunteered at the police station on the weekends in hopes of landing a good detective job there after graduation. He was the whole definition of a straight-A good boy student. Perfect for your team. He became your partner and you taught him everything you knew. When Jake joined, the body count from this ghost face killer was only three. But with the two bodies that were found today, it was now at fifteen. 

In between your classes, you found yourself back at the club office, pinning the new photos to the corkboard in the back of the room, wrapping red string between the pushpins and possible suspects. After staring at the corkboard for what felt like hours, the other female club member came in and you helped her write the article. Give her your notes and advising as she writes. 

Jake popped in and out of the office as well, brainstorming with you about the suspects and the time of events that happened. You both spun in circles that led to nowhere. You ask Jake again about speaking to Sunghoon, and he shoots you down, “Give him some time. I’ll get the police report soon and it’ll help, I am sure.” 

A week has gone by since the murder in the library. You ended up shifting the corkboard from the office and into the corner of your kitchen, using the fluorescent light of the kitchen bulbs to light the board more. You leaned against the back of your couch, it being the furthest you could step away from the board. Biting at your nails as your eyes scanned every murder case. Every newspaper article and police report on the board. 

Nothing made sense. Nothing connected. Whoever this killer was, they were good. Covered their tracks without so much as a piece of hair at any scene of their crimes. Until the glove. 

You ran your hands into your long hair, scratching at the back of your head. You needed that police report that Jake still has yet to give you. Needed to speak to Sunghoon. There were missing pieces and those two things were important. You looked over to the clock above the kitchen sink. It was almost one thirty in the morning. But you still got up and slid into your sneakers, pulled your jacket on, and bounced out the door. 

Finding yourself in front of Jake and Sunghoon’s front door, knocking loudly. There was no answer. So you did the next best thing and called Jake’s cell phone. 

There was some shuffling on the other end of the door and a groan. The door opened and you find a half-awake Jake before you, his hair a mess and spreading in every direction, wearing a plain white tee shirt and a pair of black and blue checkered boxers, “YN,” he sleepily growled and then yawned, “It’s almost two am, what is it?” 

“Can I have the police report?” 

Jake blinked at you, “Huh?” 

You crossed your arms, “The police report. Can I have it?” 

Jake let out another yawn, “It’s at the school, in the office.” 

Of course, it was. And the campus is closed and if you get caught sneaking in just to get a piece of paper…You sigh, “Thanks anyway,” you softly say, and turn around to walk down the stairs but stop, “Can I talk to Sunghoon?”

Jake scoffs, leaning against the doorframe, “It’s almost two am,” he repeats, “Why are you out here so late? There’s a literal killer running around here.” 

You knew that. And still took that risk to come out here. The killer had to be a student at your college. Every murder had been college kids. It had to be another student. That’s what made being out here so dangerous. 

“I know,” you shrugged, “But I can’t stand by and do nothing.” 

Jake frowned, “You know you’re allowed to actually be a college student right? Live a normal life too?” you shrugged again, and he just scoffed again, “YN, go home and rest. Let the detectives with actual badges handle it. We can only do so much.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, “Let me speak to Sunghoon.” 

Jake stands his ground, “No. Go. Home. Before you get yourself killed.” 

You roll your eyes, “See you tomorrow then.” 

Jake mimicked your words and watched as you walked down the steps before walking back inside and going back to sleep. 

You didn’t understand why Jake was so against you speaking to Sunghoon. Maybe he was being protective? Sunghoon didn’t look the best after finding the bodies. He was probably so shaken up. But it only made you want to speak to him more. And that need only grew more when you noticed Sunghoon’s car wasn’t in its normal parking spot beside Jake’s. 

Meaning he wasn’t home. 

You’ve respected Jake’s wishes on not to talk to Sunghoon, but this matter was getting serious and Sunghoon just might be the big break you needed. So you quickly walked off the apartment complex, glancing back to make sure Jake was outside, and pulled your phone from your pocket as you kept walking and dialed a number. 

“Hello?” 

“Sunghoon, where are you right now?” 

—

You found him atop the bleachers of the soccer field just like he said he would be. A soccer ball sat between his feet, grass scuff marks were at the ends of his jeans, and sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows and sweat dripped down the side of his face. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he came here to kick the ball around. Probably as a distraction. 

You sat down beside him, “How are you holding up?” 

Sunghoon scoffs, “Holding up as in a week ago I found two dead bodies in the middle of the library or holding up because I’ve been questioned left and right by everyone or my best friend/roommate has smothered me to stay home and take time.” 

You felt bad for him, mostly for what you’re about to ask him. He wanted to obviously forget what he saw, who could blame him? It takes special people to see a dead body and not be fazed by it. 

“I’m sorry for asking you to do this again…” 

Sunghoon just shrugs, “If I am being honest, I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now.” 

You raised your brow, “Yeah?” 

He nodded, “Jake was against it,” he took a deep breath, “Something was off that day…with him.” 

“What do you mean?” You placed a hand on his knee, “You can tell me anything. Start with the beginning.” 

Sunghoon looked you in your eyes, then looked off into the distance at the field, “He told me that morning he was meeting our coach, for a one-on-one coaching session. At first, I didn’t think anything about it, being he was a soccer prodigy or whatever.” You nodded, remembering how much of the soccer star Jake was back in high school, “So you could probably understand my surprise when I got a call from our coach saying he tried to get ahold of Jake and then he confirmed with me that they did in fact not have a meeting that day.” 

You sat back against the bleacher seat behind you, staring off onto the field, letting the gears in your brain slowly turn, waiting for Sunghoon to continue. 

“I got scared, rushing out of the apartment and searching everywhere for him. Scared and thinking I was going to find my best friend murdered somewhere, ya know?” You understood, with this killer on the loose everyone was watching their backs and afraid. Who would be next? Who is next? “But I found him, lingering around the library building, digging through his soccer duffle bag. My heart almost stopped when I saw him…alive,” he took a deep breath, “So I confronted him, and he played it off that he did have a practice, but was with his coach from high school.” 

You looked back at him, to read his face. Seeing how pale his skin was becoming, “I believed him at first, thinking maybe I misheard that morning. So we started walking back, but he kept digging through the duffle bag, looking frantic. He wasn’t acting himself. Said something about needing to go to the library, about finding a book or something, and then took off. But I followed after him. I didn’t want to leave him alone, not with ghost face running around. But when I got to the library, I…couldn’t find him. I saw him go through the back door instead of the front. But once I walked in and noticed all the doors were already unlocked…then I found the bodies.” 

You squeezed his knee, “It’s okay.” 

He nodded, swallowing and looking down at the soccer ball, “I smelt the blood first and then noticed their bodies. And then…then there were footsteps behind me and I knew that I was next. But the library walked in through the front entrance and started screaming, her eyes darting to me, saying we did it. I turned around to see Jake standing behind me. His skin was pale and sweaty. Eyes wide as he stared back at me and then at the bodies and the librarian. He’s never been surprised to see the bodies. He’s been working with you for over half a year. So when I saw the look on his face…the surprise that was there.” 

You opened your mouth to speak, but Sunghoon kept going, “The weirdest thing is his duffle bag was missing from his shoulder,” Sunghoon scoffs, “How did it just disappear.” It was a good question. A very good one. “He hasn’t been the same since then.” 

You tried to lighten the mood, “Maybe you knocked something loose in his head when the two of you wrestled the other day.” Sunghoon gave you a confused look, “You know? He said you two got too close to your TV stand and he got scuffed up by the edge of it. Making a scratch on his neck,” you pointed to the right side, tracing a finger down the side of your neck to mimic where Jake has his slowly fading scar now, “It’s right here.” 

Sunghoon raised a brow, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We haven’t wrestled inside the apartment.” Your smile faded. Sunghoon’s phone started vibrating and he pulled it from his pocket, seeing Jake’s caller ID on the screen, “Guess he noticed I wasn’t home.” Sunghoon locked his phone, ignoring the call, “I haven’t been telling him when I’ve left the apartment. So I better prepare myself with a talk when I get back.” He stood up and started walking down the bleachers, “Thank you for listening to me, I don’t want to suspect my best friend, and it probably isn’t even him. He’s just weird, I guess.” 

You watched as he disappeared before standing up and finally finding yourself back at your dorm and in bed. Replaying Sunghoon’s story over and over, trying to piece it all together. It still didn’t make sense. None of it did. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop you from texting Jake, asking him to meet you at your dorm as soon as he could tomorrow, and him responding he had soccer practice but would be here right after. 

—

“You should really keep your front door locked, YN, there’s a killer out there.” Jake teased you as he made himself at home, dropping his duffle bag into a chair at your kitchen table, his eyes going to the corkboard, “Make any progress yet?” 

You stared down at the duffle bag quickly before looking up at him, then back to the board, “No I haven’t. I left my door unlocked on purpose. Knew you’d be coming here.” 

Jake smiled at you and stood beside you at the back of your couch, looking at the board, “We’ll catch him, don’t worry honey.” 

You glanced at him slightly, your heart winced at the nickname he’d given you. You looked to his neck, seeing the scratch still healing but faded, being nothing more than a pink line. 

Jake looked down at you, giving a smile, “Can I freshen up in your bathroom? I bet I don’t smell the greatest from practice.” 

You scrunch your nose, “Yes, please. You smell.” 

Jake just rolls his eyes playfully and slides his hand up and down your back quickly before leaving your side, “I’m stealing your deodorant.” 

You waited until you saw him turn the corner and heard the bathroom door close and lock before slowly walking to his duffle bag. 

You didn’t want to suspect Jake anymore than Sunghoon did. But his story last night didn’t add up. No part of it did. Jake’s actions didn’t add up. Jake’s story he gave you didn’t match Sunghoon’s or the librarian's. None of the pieces were adding up no matter how much you tried to force the pieces together. 

You looked down the hallway, then back at the bag, and slowly unzipped it, your hand flying to your mouth quickly to stop any noise from coming out. You took a couple of deep breaths and continued looking into the bag. 

The police report you asked for along with the glove from the scene of the crime was in the bag in a ziplock bag. Along with the other matching glove and the ghost face mask and the black suit. You pulled the mask out of the bag with shaky hands. Why did Jake have these items? You knew. You knew why and still tried to find another explanation. But after seeing the contents of his bag…the pieces of the puzzle fit. Everything clicked and made sense. 

“Don’t you know it’s rude to go through people’s things, honey?” before you could move, a knife was pressed to your neck and his other arm was wrapped around your waist, “I expected better from you than to snoop around.” 

Jake’s hot breath was hitting your ear, sending chills down your spine. Any doubts you had were now out the window. Jake is ghost face. Jake is the killer. 

“Keeping secrets is very rude too,” you retorted back, dropping the mask back into his bag, “But I figured you already knew that I found out, hint why you leave your bag so easily for me to look through.” 

Jake chuckles, squeezing his arm around you and pressing the knife further against your skin, “Can’t get anything past you, can I?” 

“Why?” you asked, tilting your head at the movement of him brushing the side of his face to yours. 

“Why did I do it?” he nuzzled his nose on the shell of your ear, “You’ll need to be specific, honey.” 

You swallowed, “Everything.” 

Jake chuckles again, “Because it’s fun.” It was such a simple yet spine-chilling answer, “You think I played this fucking good boy persona because I actually wanted to? No, no. I had to play that persona. To hide my secret. This is all a game to me, YN.” 

“It’s why you joined our club,” you swallowed again, “To make it harder for us to figure you out.” 

Jake shrugs, gently biting at the shell of your ear then rubbing his nose against it again, “I thought it would add to the fun, honestly. Yeah having an inside made it so much easier. It covered my tracks well. Until you started picking up on every. Fucking. Thing.” he hissed, tightening his grip, “You made it harder to cover up my tracks. Picking apart every smallest thing with each murder. I was lucky you didn’t suspect me, that was until you started poking your nose more into my business, you don’t think I didn’t know you tore the office apart looking for the police report before coming to my apartment? That you talked to Sunghoon even after I told you not to?” 

“You have our phones and the office bugged,” this should surprise you, but it doesn’t. It made sense. 

He pressed his lips to your ear, “Smart girl. Think I wouldn’t bug your phone? Or my best friends?” 

“Jake, you were going to kill him, weren’t you.” 

Another low chuckle, “Yes,” your body stilled, feeling cold, “It would have been a pity, really, to kill off my best friend all because he also stuck his nose where he shouldn’t have.” 

You looked down at his bag, seeing the bag gloved, “You went back to the library for the glove, you fucked up.” 

He growled in your ear, “Shut up! That bitch fought me instead of taking it. I didn’t even realize my glove was gone until after I murdered them both and fled the scene. That’s when Sunghoon showed up. I knew I had to go back and find where the fuck my glove went before someone else did. I didn’t know he was following me until I went to go back and check the bodies after tearing apart the other side of the library and saw him standing there. I quietly set my bag in one of the reading rooms and locked the door, slipping my knife into the back of my jeans. Preparing myself to kill my best friend.”

“All to keep your fucking secret,” you snapped at him, his hands on your body getting tighter.

“Watch it, honey,” he hissed, “You do have a knife to your throat right now.” 

“She fought you right? Probably knocked off your mask too. She saw your face, and you acted quickly and sliced her throat. Not before she left her own scratch on your neck.” 

Jake nodded, a wide smile on his face, “Nothing gets past you. You’d make a great detective someday, honey.” 

You needed to turn him in. Needed to get out of here and turn him in before he could kill anyone else. Fifteen. He’s murdered fifteen people. Probably more before he took up the ghost face mantle.

Jake pressed his chest to your back, “You know,” he whispers, “I’ve dreamed about doing this with you, my knife to your throat,” he rocked his hips against your ass, “It’s so fucking hot.” 

It was now or never. You tilted your head to the side, taking the skin of his forearm between your teeth and biting hard. 

“Fuck!” he shouted, his hand flexing and dropping the knife to the floor and his grip on you loosening. 

You pushed him back with your back and sent him falling to his ass. You barely made it two steps away from him before both of his hands were on your ankles, tripping you to the floor and pulling you towards him. 

You kicked your legs but not getting out of his strong grip. Jake worked fast to flip you over onto your back, his hands now at your wrists and holding them up and above your hand, pinning them to the floor. He straddled you, locking his legs around yours to keep you from wiggling them. 

“Stop fighting me!” he growled, using all his weight to pin you to the floor. 

You stopped, chest rising and falling as you stared up at his beautiful killing face. 

He held your wrists down with one hand and reached for his knife with the other, chuckling as he once again held the knife to your throat, “You look so pretty like this baby, all underneath me like this.” 

Jake was so turned on by this. He’s only dreamed of having you pinned underneath him with his favorite weapon against your skin. Dreamed what you’d sound and look like. This passed his expectations. It went even further than that. His cock twitched in his pants seeing the look of anger all over your face. 

“You get horny every time you kill someone?” you spat out at him, the fire in your eyes burning. 

Jake cocked his head, “You’re not afraid of me?” 

“Why would I be afraid of a horn dog who likes killing people?” 

Jake laughs, adjusting his legs from yours, using his knees to spread your legs apart, sliding himself between them, “Baby, you’re the only one I’ve ever got horny over. The others were just killings to kill. But you? You do something to me.” 

From the moment Jake first saw you on campus he wanted to be buried balls deep in your cunt. Wanted to fuck you so hard as he softly made cuts on your arms to watch you bleed as your moans of pain and pleasure filled his ear holes. Wanted to cum so deep within you and make you his. 

He had more than just joined the club to hide his killings as his reason. He wanted to get closer to you, get to know you. Then kill you after he got his dick wet. But what he didn’t expect was you figuring him out so soon. His plans got pushed up. He wanted you afraid of him as he killed you. He didn’t expect you to look at him with fury, so unafraid. 

Jake leaned down, being inches away from your face, the knife pressing harder against your neck, “You get me so hard,” he rocked his hips between you, his hard cock rubbing against your clothed cunt. You tried to not whimper, to keep your firm face, but the effect he was having on you down south was obvious. He wasn’t stupid, you knew that. 

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been crushing on Jake since he walked into the club for the first time. How couldn’t you? He was perfect. Still was as he sat atop you with a knife to your neck. 

You relaxed your body, “If you’re going to kill me, then do it.” 

Jake smiled, “Want me to?” He released your hands from his grip and slid the knife from your neck and down to your shirt, his free hand looping his fingers at the collar, using the knife to cut a line, tearing the fabric and exposing your laced bra and skin. Jake tucked his lip between his teeth. Fuck you looked so much better than what you did in his dreams. So much better than he imagined. He slid the tip of the knife down your chest, rounding it around your breast and down your sternum, “Where should I start?” He placed both hands at the sides of your head and bent down, lips brushing against yours, “Tell me, baby.” 

You lifted your head, connecting your lips to his. Taking in the taste of his cherry chapstick and the softness of his lips. He rocked his hips against yours, moaning into your mouth, “Start by taking the rest of my clothes off.” 

He laughs against your lips and then pulls away, setting the knife down at your side to pull his famous white tee shirt off his body, “Yeah?” you nodded, eyes darting to his bare chest and abs, “So fucking dirty,” he cooed, “Should have known you were into killers.” 

You sat up on your elbows, ready to reach for the button of his jeans, but found the knife back in his hand and the tip pointing at your chest, “Lay back down, baby, no need to be so impatient.” 

His free hand touched your shoulder and gently pressed you back to the floor. You kept your eyes on him as he unbuttoned his jeans, the knife still in hand as he wiggled out of his jeans and boxers, leaving him bare to you. 

You watched as he took his length between his fingers, slowly pumping himself, him biting his lips. You were growing too impatient. Needing to feel him against you, in you, “Jake,” 

“Shhh, honey,” he whispers, dropping his hands to your shorts, “I know.” 

The cool metal of the knife brushed your skin as he pulled your shorts and panties down your thighs. Goosebumps formed on your skin and making Jake chuckle, enjoying this more than he’d thought, “You love the way my knife feels against you?” He tossed your clothing somewhere off into the void of the room, settling himself back between your legs, his tip prodding your entrance, “love the way it feels to glide against your skin?” He sent the knife sliding up your tummy, his hips pushing his cock in your pussy, slowly stretching you. 

Jake bottomed out, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. He hissed out in pure pleasure of finally being buried so deep inside you, the pleasure of how fucking good you felt wrapped around him, “fuck baby,” he smiles, sliding the knife to your waist, wanting to cut open your skin and see how pretty your blood would look pooling out, “feel so good and I’m not even moving.” 

You bucked your hips up against him, wanting to feel any kind of friction. Jake drops the knife to the floor, his hands pinning your arms above your head again, “I told you to stop being so impatient.” 

“Jae, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist, “I need you.” 

Hearing you beg for him had him gone and all he cared about now was fucking you. To make you feel so good until you’re cumming around his dick. 

Jake started out slow, burying his face in your neck, “Why aren’t you afraid, hmm? I could kill you right now.” 

You leaned into him, squeezing your legs tighter on him to push him even further into you, “Because I have secrets of my own.” 

Jake chuckled, bucking his hips harder and faster into yours, his lips pressing to yours. Tongue sliding down your throat and exploring your mouth. One hand leaving yours to cup your breast, his thumb and index finger pinching your nipple, “Tell me your secrets.” 

“You already seem to know them all, stalker,” you hissed, throwing your head back against the floor at him pinching your nipple harder in the same movement of him pushing his dick hard against your cervix, pressing so hard to break whatever barrier that was stopping him from completely filling you whole as his hip bones knocked against yours. 

“Tell me anyway,” he whispers between kisses, now sliding his mouth down to your ear, licking the shell of it, “I don’t know what you haven’t texted or physically talked about.” 

“I have feelings for you,” you felt insane saying it out loud. Felt crazy that you even admitted it to him. To the person who was fucking you into pure bliss. To a murderer, “I’m obsessed with you, Jake.” 

Jake bit down into your neck, both of his hands sliding underneath you to wrap at your shoulders, fucking his hips against you faster. His teeth sank into your skin tearing it slightly, a small sprinkle of blood escaping. 

“Fuckkkk,” he moans, tasting the brassy liquid on his tongue, “Even your blood tastes good.” 

He was fucking crazy. You knew he was. But everything about him drew you to him. Made you want him more. 

And him hearing how obsessed you were with him made him even crazier about you. 

“Such a good girl,” he cooed, “Letting me fuck you like this, looking so pretty for me this way.” He bucked his hips faster, adjusting his legs on the floor to spread yours even wider, giving him more access to hit your weak spots and to hit them just right. 

You pulled at his hair, “Jake!” you moaned out his name, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap, “I’m going…fuck…I’m going to cum.” 

“Please,” he groaned, “Cum for me baby,” he sticks his tongue out, flattening it against the bite he left on your shoulder, licking up the new blood that pooled out, “fucking cum around my cock for me, honey.” 

A few more thrusts and you came around him. Tingles spread throughout your body at the feeling of your release. Jake moans at feeling the mess you’ve made on his cock, him working his dick faster in your cunt to chase out the release he wants. The one he’s dreamed about having with you. His hand only did so much for him with his thoughts while back at his apartment. But now he was balls deep in your sweet pussy, having you right where he wanted you. 

“Gonna cum soon,” he panted, hands squeezing your shoulders, “fuck I want to cum in this cunt so bad.”

You pulled at his hair harder, the overstimulation hitting you hard, “Jae, I can’t—“

“I know, baby,” he pressed his forehead against yours, his brows furrowing and eyes shut tightly, “Going to fill this pussy to the brim, understand? This pussy is mine.” 

Jake pressed a kiss to your lips and lifted up, taking your legs and pressing them to your chest, pistoning into you faster but sloppy, “Shit,” he hissed, “Fixing to cum—fuck—I’m cumming, honey, I’m cum—“ one final thrust, and his white ropes spilled into you. He pressed his hips against you and held them there, making sure every last drop of his cum made it deep within, none to be wasted. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, slowly lifting himself back up and dropping your legs back to the floor, “Sex with you was so much better than in my head. I only dreamt how good this pussy would feel. How good it’d feel to cum in you.” 

Jake was definitely more obsessed with you than you were with him. And he honestly didn’t care how obvious it was. 

“Fuck I am in love with you.” he chuckles, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs. 

You tilted your head to the side, seeing the knife sitting there idle. Jake clocked where your eyes landed, but he wasn’t fast enough as you quickly grabbed it, being the one who now held the knife to his throat, the fire in your eyes back. 

Jake might have just came, but his dick twitched and hardened again between the walls of your fuck hole. His crazy smile is so wide and his eyes so lustful. Seeing you so ready to end him right here and now made him crazier. Made him crave you even more. 

He wouldn’t kill you now. No, no. How could he kill the love of his life? How could he slide that knife into your skin and cut you open? You were precious to him, more than what he thought before. Maybe the sex drew him in, but you weren’t getting away from him that easily. 

“Awe, babe,” he cooed, taking your wrist in his hand and slowly removing the knife from your hand, “This is how this will go now,” he tossed the knife across the room and out of reach, pinning your arms back to the floor, slowly rocking his hips, “You will keep your fucking mouth shut, got it? Close this ghost face case and if anyone asks you don’t know anything about it. Give it up. All for me, okay baby?” 

You nodded, not being able to say no to those brown eyes. It was toxic, whatever relationship you just found yourself in. You became that girl in books and movies who fell for the killer. It surprises you at how fast you were willing to drop everything for him. To keep his secret. 

He kisses you gently and fucked you on the floor until you both came again and again and again. 

What did you get yourself into?

— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

[garagepaperback]

What are your favorite drarry fics?

oh. ooooooooooooh oh oh.

here are my staples:

draco, the magic dragon - libbydrew a fic i first read on livejournal (showing off the varnish of my casket here) that i thought about regularly for the almost two decades i fell out of fandom. canon to me tbh. libby invented my draco rubric: proud lil showboat even when everything around him has gone to rancid shit, sarcastic and aloof personality as a poor facade to distract from the big ol' gaping well of hurt.

Potter took a great breath, then let it out slowly – a low whistle between his teeth. "Malfoy, I had no idea. I thought—" "Why are you here?" Draco cut him off before the idiot embarrassed them both. Their shared past was water under the bridge – even if Draco had drowned in it.

nightingale - michi_the_killer

another back-in-my-day fav, even though i can only stand to read half of it. actually even thinking about it is making me stare off in a distance for upwards of three minutes. this one i would hand off wrapped in about a million miles of caution tape. + also a huge fan of michi's gory veela fic.

It was better than fighting, Harry thought, although sometimes he still wanted to rip into Malfoy, to hurt him. Other days, he thought, it was better than anything.

rookie moves - peu_a_peu

what can i say that hasn't already been said - peu is a MASTER. if you somehow know who i am but haven't read this, reassess your life choices through professional means but not until after you dive in.

“Feels kinda big,” Malfoy said, smirking. “For a guy your height.” “My height is average,” Harry said, although he was undeniably glaring upward at Malfoy’s face when they stood so close together. “And it is kinda big.”

stately homes of wiltshire - waspabi another one that crept into my heart and made a home. hard to choose between this and waspabi's other drarry fic, but there's something about the decrepit manor that just does it for me. a perfect harry and draco, perfect soft reaching towards each other.

Draco smiled and dragged Potter from the shop before he could charm any more elderly ladies with his unkept, take-care-of-me-I’m-confused-and-have-nice-shoulders aesthetic. Once outside in the drizzle, he realised he still had his hand around Potter’s forearm. He yanked his hand back immediately.

i wake up falling - warmfoothills

warmfoothills :,) just reading this moniker makes me vision go soft around the edges. their writing has made me out loud, quietly say "oh," multiple times. the prose is darling, this story is such a brief, aching glance. it was also really hard to pick just one (flashback, warm nights i also go in for).

“I love you,” he says, unable to stop himself. Draco blinks, a barely-there flinch, like Harry’s taken a swing at him. “I know,” he says, still oblivious to the reference, oblivious to the way his words scoop right into the meat of Harry’s stupid, hopeful heart. “It’s not enough, is it?” Draco shakes his head. Above, the stars watch unfeelingly on.

the pure and simple truth - lettered no one does dialogue with the mastery lettered does. my GOD. my god. i feel like this fic is drarry perfectly distilled.

“What’s he going to be?” Blaise raised a brow. “Pardon?” “You said he says Hermione should be Minister, and all those other things. What does Malfoy think he should be?” There was something much like pity in Blaise’s eyes. “He thinks he should never, ever be forgiven for the things he’s done.” Harry felt ill. “That’s not fair.” “When has Draco ever been fair?” “I meant―” Harry swallowed hard. “That’s not right.” Blaise looked more pitying still. “When has Draco ever been right?”

far from the tree - aideomai

the writer i avoid talking about the most bc once i start i cannot physically restrain myself from going on about their beauty forever. i sat for forty-five solid minutes frowning, trying to choose between this one and in the hand. and dwelling. okay anyway. i keep a doc of quotes from fics that resonate and it's 50% aideomai.

Draco wondered what Potter thought of this day, in the future the twins came from. If he had told Ginny about it. If he had forgotten it. He couldn’t forget it, could he? It felt burned into Draco’s body already, a final point that he had been moving toward for years without knowing.

i could go on but i think seven is a nice solid number tyvm for this ask!

[froggibus]

Graveyard Smash - Cole Cassidy

Pairing: Cole Cassidy x f! reader (fem pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: while investigating an abandoned asylum, you and Cass come into contact with slime that has a strange effect on you...

CW: ghost hunter! au, near-death experience, kinda horror elements to start (but those are the vibes teehee), sex pollen (but it's slime), dubcon, dry humping, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cum stuffing

omg day one of kinktober! i meant to post this much much earlier but the wc got away from me and i took a four hour nap ;') hopefully tomorrows will be out earlier tho! i don't like this v much but i cannot spend anymore time tweaking it sorry

also def should’ve made todays movie ghostbusters but oh well

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

You shiver at the feeling of Cole’s fingers on your chest, fiddling with the gold buttons of your coveralls. The blue fabric scrunches in his calloused hands as he makes his way upwards, slipping the buttons through the loops with ease.

You glance at the looming abandoned asylum behind him, the old brick building creaking beneath the howling wind. “So, what’re we dealing with here?”

“Dunno,” he shrugs his broad shoulders, his matching coveralls bunching up at the motion. “They just said it was slimy, loud and real mean.”

“Great.”

He chuckles at the lack of your enthusiasm, finishing the last button and pulling away from you. You miss the warmth of his hands immediately, a chill running up your spine.

You hop down from the back of the van, slinging your backpack over your shoulders. “You packed the flashlights?”

His face goes pale. “What? I thought you did.”

Your mouth falls open. You drop your bag, squatting on the pavement to start rifling through it when you hear him chuckling above you. 

“Very funny.”

“Hey, just tryna lighten the mood.”

You go quiet again at that, once again sizing up the asylum before you. Being a paranormal investigator wasn’t for the faint of heart, and you’ve dealt with some creepy buildings over the years, but none were as eerie as the one waiting for you.

You swallow hard, adjusting the straps of your backpack. “So,” you gesture to the decaying steps outside, “shall we?”

“Ladies first.”

You scoff, but force yourself forward regardless. The rotting steps creak with every move you make, the concrete landing a distant paradise. You suck in a breath, glancing over your shoulder to see Cass hot on your heels.

Cass breaks down the barricaded door with just one kick, the wood splintering and falling to the floors with a bang. The sound echoes off the walls, spreading out through the massive building.

“Well, if it didn’t know we were coming before…”

You snort, pulling the flashlights out of your bag and passing one to him. For a second, you’re cast in darkness, the only light being from the full moon beaming from a nearby window. You smack your flashlight a few times and it slowly flickers to life, illuminating the crumbling grand staircase in front of you.

Cass raises his brows at the sight. “Guess we’re not going up.”

“You can say that again.”

You swing the beam of light from right to left, identical disgusting hallways on either side of you. Your flashlight falls on his chest, the golden buttons glowing like the sun. He raises his thick brows at you in question.

“Dealer's choice, cowboy.” You offer a weak grin, “do you want disgusting hallway number one, or two?”

He sighs, shaking his head at your antics, but turns to the right and starts shuffling off down the hall. You trail after him, staying only a few steps behind him. It’s eerily quiet inside, the only sounds being from your footsteps and the occasional whir of the EMF reader in his hand.

A broken security door lies ahead, torn caution tape beckoning you in. You frown, “so, what even happened here to make it such a hotspot?”

“Patient abuse, mad doctors, insane cover-ups. The usual for a place like this.” He’s gentle opening the door this time, the old wood creaking on its hinges. “Fuckin’ creepy.”

The hall ahead is even worse than the one you just trekked down. The floor is crumbling and broken in odd places, covered in stains that you really hope aren’t blood. Doors line either side of the hallway, looted carts of medical equipment staggered throughout. 

You’re only a few steps through the door when it slams harshly behind you, a terribly warm gust of air ghosting over the back of your neck. You flinch harshly, spinning around to face the few feet of empty space between you and the closed door. There’s nothing there.

“Any chance that means it likes us and wants us here?”

Cass only snickers.

“Yeah,” you grumble, adjusting your collar, “figured as much.”

Cass pushes open the first door and the EMF reader whines in response. You can just barely make out the reading on his screen—Level 4. That chill runs up your spine again. It’s gonna be a long night.

—

The basement of the asylum is somehow even creepier than the upstairs. It’s boiling hot and smells strangely of strawberries despite the rotting walls and floors.

You clench the ultraviolet flashlight tighter in your hand, sweeping it over the walls around you. Aside from the door closing, you’ve yet to see anything paranormal in the hours you’ve been here. 

Cass keeps close to your side, the two of you now relying on only his flashlight. The smell of his deodorant floods your nostrils, the scent so familiar and comforting it almost has you forgetting the creepy asylum around you. Almost. 

He wipes at the glistening skin on the back of his neck, muscles flexing at the motion. You glance away quickly, heat pooling in your stomach.

“Hotter than hell down here,” he grumbles.

You whimper in agreement, your own skin starting to take on a slight sheen. The smell only grows stronger as you dip into another hallway. You scrunch up the nose at the nauseatingly sweet smell.

Both of you freeze as the purple light of your flashlight grazes over a handprint on a nearby door. You turn to Cass with a frown, both of you knowing a handprint can only mean you’re getting closer. 

He braces his hand on the handle and takes a deep breath before shoving it open. You stagger in after him, eyes burning at how intense the scent is inside the room.

You turn to him, ready to ask if he’s picking up on anything, when his face goes pale. 

“Get down!” He shouts, tackling you to the concrete floor.

He manages to manoeuvre just enough to brace your fall, your back crashing against his chest. The air is knocked from both of your lungs from the impact.

You cough harshly, trying to roll away when his grip around you tightens.

“Don’t move.” He whispers.

You open your mouth to ask him why but freeze in your tracks at the pink tinged spectre only a few feet away from you. Its eyes are unfocused, its mouth moving without making any sound. Heat seems to follow its movements, growing closer and closer to where the two of you lay on the floor.

You force yourself to lie completely still, not even breathing while it skims across the floor. The smell around it is so strong your eyes start to water, hot tears leaking down your cheeks. It drifts farther into the room, towards the door on the opposite side.

Cass’s chest has also stilled behind you, his movements as frozen as yours. Both of you are stuck in shock as it reaches the door. You’re almost home free, it’s almost gone. 

And then the EMF reader crackles back to life—having landed a few feet away from you in the fall—and lets out a screeching tone that can only indicate an EMF 5 reading.

The spectre whips around, screeching back at the gadget, and speeds towards the two of you. Cass shoves you off, flipping onto his feet in an instant. He goes to dive for his bag, but he never makes it.

Before either of you can react, the spectre is unhinging its jaw and projectile vomiting glowing pink slime on the both of you. You gag, sliding around in the goo in an attempt to get away from it. Cass slips and lands on his ass next to you, raising his forearms to shield his face.

In the chaos, you somehow manage to reach into your bag, fingers grasping at the small metal trap. You squeeze it tightly, tugging the lever open before tossing it outwards.

The trap opens, landing at its feet and crackling with electricity. The two of you watch with blank stares as the ghost is sucked inside. 

“The switch!” Cass shouts at you through a mouthful of slime, “where’s the switch?”

And then you’re both digging through your bag, feverish skin rubbing against his as you desperately search for the small metal switch. Cass grabs it, holding it up triumphantly before slamming his hand on the button. 

“See you in hell, motherfucker.”

You laugh in relief when the trap slams shut behind it, a small puff of pink air sneaking through from the pressure. 

“What,” you breathe, “the actual fuck just happened.”

Cass laughs, rising to his feet and offering you a hand. He tugs you to your feet, the slime coating your sneakers making you slide into his chest. He catches you, hands lingering on your waist as he helps you get steady.

You swallow hard. Despite the slime coating both of you, the warmth of his chest and the proximity to him has you swallowing hard, a sudden heat between your legs.

You cough, turning away from him. “We should get out of here.”

He hums in agreement, collecting the trap off the ground and following you back into the hallway.

He keeps a step behind you the entire way out, his body frustratingly close. The heat coursing through you only gets worse the closer you get to the exit, even the cold night air leaking through the broken windows doing nothing to sate it. Your core throbs, horrible cramps wracking your stomach and thighs with every step.

You brace yourself on a nearby wall, trying to force some air into your lungs. Cass gently pats your shoulder and you moan. You clamp a hand over your mouth, both of you frozen in shock.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and the deep, raspy tone of his voice has your legs quivering. “You’re burning up.”

“Y—yeah,” you gasp out. “Just need to—to keep moving.”

He nods, squeezing your shoulder in reassurance before the two of you begin stumbling your way out of the asylum. You’re only a few feet away from the van before you double over, a nauseating wave of cramps and heat and need coursing through you.

Cass manages to catch you before you hit the ground, strong hands helping guide you to the pavement. He squats down in front of you, his slime coated suit clinging to his body in all the right places. You lick your lips.

Amber eyes follow the motion and you swear they darken at the sight of you. He trails a hand up and down your side, your cramps subsiding at the motion. “You alright?” He rasps.

You swallow hard, his voice sexy and husky and sending electricity surging through you. “Cramps,” you frown.

His hands trail up to the chest of your coveralls, fingers popping the first button open. “You’ll probably feel much better once we get these damned things off.”

You stay perfectly still, scared that if you move any closer to him you’ll do something you’ll regret. His fingers linger after each button, the breath leaving your body at each touch. Your eyes flutter shut, your whole body shaking beneath him.

You don’t even notice he’s done until his lips are hovering over your ear, hot breath ghosting the side of your neck. “Isn’t that much better?”

You moan in agreement, not even bothering to cover your arousal. You let the coveralls shrug over your shoulders, falling in a sopping pool on the ground. Cass helps you rise on shaking legs, guiding you to the back of the van.

You open the doors, letting yourself slump against the cool metal of the back bumper. Cass stands in front of you, fingers fumbling around on the buttons of his own suit.

You’re mesmerised by the sight, practically panting as the suit slides off of him and reveals his black compression shirt and blue jeans. Your eyes trail over him and you’re only barely aware of how he’s watching you take him in. 

Your eyes fix on the bulge in his pants, straining against the denim. You wet your lips at the sight.

“Like what you see?” He rasps.

Your eyes snap up to his, shock written on your face. You stumble over your words for a second, the sight of his flushed cheeks and dark eyes driving you wild.

“Cole—”

“I need you.”

And you’re left with no time to react before he’s pouncing on you, grabbing your face in his hands and slamming his lips against yours. You whine into his mouth, dragging your nails down his back.

He leans into you, hands slipping to cup your ass. Your legs wrap around his waist, drawing him closer as he lifts you further into the van. His teeth graze at your bottom lip and you gasp, letting his mouth swipe over the backs of your teeth.

He’s hot against your mouth, both of you overheating despite the cold night air. You can taste the strawberry remnants of the slime on his lips, overshadowed by the tang of cigars and spearmint. Rutting your hips against him, you whine into the kiss. 

He returns the motion, rolling his hips into yours. Despite the layers of clothes between you, he can feel the heat pooling between your legs. Sweat beads down your temples and you pull away from him gasping.

“I need you,” you echo.

His face is equally as hot as yours, cheeks red and glistening with sweat. His hair is stuck to his skin and tears brim the corners of his eyes. He looks utterly pathetic, melting into you with mutual desperation.

A whine of protest slips from your lips when he pulls away from you to unbutton his jeans, fingers flying so fast you can hardly keep track. Despite his speed, you can’t take it anymore, dipping your own hand between your legs to sate your cravings.

Your pants have completely soaked through, hot slick ruining the fabric. You rub at your clit, clenching your thighs around your wrist and rocking back and forth. His cock springs free but he makes no move to touch you, watching you fuck yourself with burning eyes.

“D–don’t just watch,” you gasp, “help me. Please.”

He rasps, “damn, that’s hot.”

And then he’s on you again, slotted perfectly between your legs while he presses his lips into yours. His hands fumble with your pants, managing to tug them down to your knees. He fixes a hand between your thighs, stroking at your soaking panties with a whine.

“So wet, fuck, god,” the thick head of his cock rubs against your panties. “T-tell me I can fuck you. Please.”

 He ruts against you through your panties, his cock rubbing against your clit with every thrust. The heat of his body pressing against yours, the scent of his deodorant and his breath on your body is all too much. You roll your head back, arching your back into him.

You barely manage to gasp out a string of slurred curses before you come undone, gushing on his cock through your panties. Cass watches with wide eyes, your slick making your panties almost see through. He rubs a thumb over your clit and you twitch beneath him.

“Please fuck me,” you murmur through pants. “I need it badly.”

That’s all he needs to hear before he’s ripping open your panties and slipping his cock inside of you. Your pussy greedily takes him in, walls stretching around his cock in a way that has both of you groaning. You reach for him, pulling his broad shoulders into you and dragging your nails along his sweaty skin.

He’s barely bottomed out before his cock is twitching inside of you, hot cum painting your walls. You clench tightly, your attempt to keep him from pulling out. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, cumming in a series of gasps and whines.

You keep your ankles locked around his hips until he’s finished, slowly rocking yourself against him through his orgasm. 

He pulls away, looking at you with those pathetic fucking eyes. “Need more,” he says, and its all he manages before he’s pulling out and fucking his cum back into you.

You gasp with every harsh thrust. Each snap of his hips has his cum sloshing inside of you, has his tip hitting the edge of your cervix and making you whine. He hangs his head low into your shoulder, babbling dirty things against your skin. 

He shifts a hand down to your knees, throwing your ankles over his shoulder so he can bend you in half and fuck you even deeper. You squeal when his cock is driven so deep inside that it almost hurts. He nips at the skin of his neck, the sharp bones of his hips hitting yours so roughly it’ll bruise.

It’s so hot that it’s dizzying, the stretch of his cock inside of you driving you near insanity. Your legs shake around his shoulders, your stomach cramping in anticipation of your next orgasm. You squeeze your eyes shut, digging your nails into your palms as it washes over you.

Your whole body shakes, pussy fluttering around him. He fucks you through it, his pace unrelenting as he chases his own high within your walls. You’re just barely coming to when he’s coming undone inside you once more, another gush of hot cum filling you up.

His hips stutter against yours as wave after wave fills you up. He gasps with each hot strand, his cock twitching inside of you. It’s nearly a minute before he’s done and you’re left so full it hurts.

He only takes a second to recover before he’s fucking into you again, chasing the heat within your walls. Both of you are soaked in sweat, gasping and whimpering and twitching with every motion—but neither of you care.

“M-move your legs.” He swallows, “need to be deeper.”

And then you’re folding your legs into your chest, pressed taut against your tits through your t-shirt. It only gives him better access to fuck you, his cock slamming deeper and deeper with every motion. He’s panting and struggling to catch his breath but his movements never falter.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, drawing him closer into you and planting kisses across his collar bone. His skin tastes like sweat and strawberries and you relish in it. Relish in him. 

Your pussy aches desperately, every inch of your skin feverish and wanting. Your head feels dizzy and you’re suddenly wondering how long you’ve been at this, but it feels so fucking good and he’s so fucking hot and all you want is to cum over and over and over again.

You let out a sob of pleasure as another orgasm tears through you, electricity crackling through your nerves. Your head goes fuzzy, the world around you fading away while wave after wave of pleasure wracks your body. All of your muscles seize, clenching and unclenching around his cock.

He cums with you, his thighs red and shaking from how hard he’s been fucking you. He lets himself drape over you, the weight of his body only adding to the dizzy fever threatening to take you.

The two of you lay there for a while longer, his cock still hard and your pussy still gushing. He twitches against you, and his small pants let you know that he still needs you just as bad as you need him.

You sob again, your poor pussy aching and abused and still clenching him like he’s the only thing you’ve ever needed. “Need more,” you whine, “can’t take more.”

He nods against you, sweaty hair tickling your sensitive skin. He slowly rolls your hips against yours and even that small motion has both of you cumming again, seizing against one another.

—

It’s hours before you’re fully coherent again. The sun has already started rising before Cass is able to move off of you, rolling onto the van floor next to you. 

The fever in your body has finally subsided but your strength is sapped from the dozens of orgasms you endured throughout the night.

In the afterglow of your orgasms, neither of you seem to notice or care about the pink, glowing puddle of fluids beneath you, or the rattling of the ghost trap in your backpack.

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Fairest of them All

Pairing: Buck x Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Notes: Rhys?!?! You’re alive?! 🥹🥹🥹 I am alive!! I absolutely went THROUGH it I almost died six times but we’re here, we’re back and we’re horny AYOOOOOOOOOOO

P. S Dear reader, I also happen to have a mirror sex one already!! lmao Now You See Me its two for the price of one!!

Buck yanks you into the upstairs bathroom, the base from the music below you pumps through the floors, matching the pounding of your heartbeat 

“M-maybe we shouldn’t be up here” 

He pushes you against the door, pressing his body to yours and kissing your neck, the alcohol flowing through your system gives you the liquid courage to place your arms around his neck and pull his hair back to connect your lips together 

“Chill, I know the owner, he won’t mind”

“We literally stepped over caution tape and behind a curtain” you pant as he hikes your skin-tight skirt around your waist, he slides his hands down your thighs and winks before he effortlessly picks you up and carries you over to the vanity 

“Will you just trust me?” He leaves sloppy kisses across your neck, his hands sliding up your sides and squeezing them gently

“I literally don’t even know you” 

“Oh baby, we’ve been talking since the second you walked through the front door. I think we know each other enough besides, It’s a fireman’s rule. We always check the water pressure in case of emergencies." 

Buck grins, pulling you close and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue dances with yours, exploring and tasting as his hands flow over your body. "And I think we need to check the temperature too."

“That’s such a lie” you giggle as you attack him just as fervently, your hands sliding over his broad chest, pulling at his shirt and he smirks, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the side. He takes yours off just as quickly, setting it on the side of the sink, and takes hold of your panties 

“You mind?” He gives a little tug and you shake your head 

“Please god take them off, hurry up” You fumble with his belt as he rips your panties off, tossing them behind him. Your mouth drops open and you squeak

“Fast enough??” He grins devilishly as he pushes your hands away, sliding his belt off with one hand. You eye him up and down for a moment, biting your lip 

“That was hot enough that I’ll forgive you for ruining the set”

“I’ll buy you another” He lets his pants and boxers fall, stepping out of them and kicking them to the side. He brings you closer to the edge of the counter, spreading your legs wide for him and sighing softly 

“Fuck you’re beautiful” Buck smirks, lining up his cock with your entrance. He thrusts in deep, groaning at the tightness that grips him. He starts to move, slowly at first, picking up speed as he looks up at your reflections in the mirror watching the way your body reacts to his.

You lean back, bracing yourself on your elbows, and let your head fall back, staring at your bodies upside down in the mirror 

“Jesus Buck” you breathe, your chest heaving and he leans forward, placing hot wet kisses on your sternum, enjoying the way your tits bounce around him as he fucks you, his cock pumping in and out at a brutal pace. Your hand slaps down on his shoulder, your back arching as you cry his name. 

“Harder, please fuck go harder” You beg and he growls, his hand coming to wrap around your throat for leverage as he fucks you harder, he pulls almost all the way out, before slamming around back into you, pushing you backward 

“You like it harder huh baby girl?” He hums against your chest, his face buried in your plush breasts “I’ll give you whatever you want” He pulls away and pulls you off the vanity, turning you over so you’re bent on it instead. He lifts your thighs enjoying the way your ass bounces when he moves you. 

“You look pretty good like that” You tease him as you stare at him in the mirror 

“Oh yeah? Look good with my cock deep in your tight hole?” He eases into you, his eyes rolling back and closing softly. You spread your legs more and he grabs your hips, his fingers pressing pretty bruises into them from how hard he’s holding you when he fucks you. He can’t help the little whiny noises that escape his lips as he opens his eyes again, watching you in the mirror as you study your face, you press your forehead against it, nuzzling your nose softly before giving your reflection a little kiss

Buck smacks your ass with both hands, gripping it firmly and you wriggle your hips, gasping as you move on his cock. He massages your ass kneading your flesh and letting you enjoy yourself in the mirror 

“Oh please, don’t let me distract you…” He leans forward now, his chest against your back, you can feel a thin layer of sweat on your bodies as he lies against you 

“Go on“

You turn back to the mirror, moaning as you make out with your reflection, you can feel Buck’s mouth, copying yours as he kisses your neck, moaning as he grinds his cock inside you

“Fuck me-“ you pant against the mirror, your thighs shaking beneath him “P-please Buck” 

“Oh? You done with your little show?” He’s left so many hickies across your shoulder, there are little bite marks on your back. He pulls away, holding you with him as he stands on straight, your chest flush against his back, one arm tight around your waist, the other between your breasts as he holds you up 

“Good girl Y/N fuck you’re so sexy”

He thrusts up into you suddenly and you yelp, he holds you against his chest as he fucks you, bouncing you on his cock over again over, harder and harder. You hold onto his arms as tightly as you can, writhing on his cock 

“Touch yourself” his voice is kind of breathy and weak like he’s begging for it “Wanna see you touch yourself, baby” 

Your head falls against his shoulder as you rub your clit, your soaked cunt on display in the mirror for him and it drives him crazy. His hips piston into yours roughly as he brings you down on him to meet each thrust. 

He can feel the way you tighten around him, the heat and friction between your two bodies are starting to become too much, his head is too hot and hazy, and your body is too much for him 

The music downstairs drowns out the way you scream his name as you cum, he nearly drops you as he cums in you. You grab the vanity as he bends you both over it, shoving his cock in you as deep as he can, he reaches forward, pulling your head back by your hair so you can see him stuff you full of his cock in the mirror, your mascara running down your cheeks, your lipgloss smeared across both of your lips 

“Look so fuckin pretty like that” He pants in your ear, his voice is gravelly and raw 

You both sit there for a moment together, eventually, Buck gets his bearings back and grabs a towel from the cabinet, and starts to clean you up 

“I’m gonna have to steal that now” Buck holds you up while you lean over him and he rubs your thighs with the towel 

“And why would you do that hm?” He chuckles, tossing it over into the hamper and you whine 

“It’s literally got our- you know… stuff!! On it”

“It’s fine”

Buck picks you up before you can even protest that and carries you over to the bed. He tosses you down on it and you giggle, rolling over and opening your arms to him. He crawls up the bed, smushing you with his body into the sheets and you roll your eyes, pushing at his chest

“Quit it!”

“You quit it” He grins back, fighting your hands off, he rolls over, pulling you into his arms, and snuggles with you

“Take a nap, you need it” He rubs your side, burying his face in your neck 

“You must seriously know this guy… should we really be-“

“Don’t start with that again” he swats your thigh “Trust me baby you can sleep here”

“You don’t want to just go back to the party?” Your voice kind of tapers off at the end of the sentence and he smiles, knowing you’re falling asleep 

“Nah… I uh… I kinda wanna just stay here with you… if that’s okay” 

“You’re pretty bad at one-night stands” You giggle, turning over in his arms to face him. You move so slowly, that he has to help you finish turning 

“This a one-night stand?” He asks casually, smoothing his hand over your hair and you stop for a minute, blinking so slowly. Because you thought it was, and you thought he thought it was…. But admittedly you really really hoped it wasn’t

“Not a one-night stand?” You ask sleepily, nuzzling into his chest and he smirks, his hand sliding over your bare thigh as he rubs it soothingly 

“Not a one-night stand baby… go on, go to sleep”

“And you p-promise….promise you’ll..?”

He kisses your nose, nuzzling against you as your eyes close slowly 

“I promise I’ll stay awake.”

Oh, he did not stay awake.

You wake up with a start, sitting up fast and nearly falling off the bed. Strong warm arms wrap around you and pull you flush against their chest

“Would you relax?” Buck mumbles as he yanks the covers back over you “Shut up and go back to sleep” 

“We fell asleep!!” You whisper loudly as you slap his arm “You promised you’d stay awake!!” 

Buck groans softly, giving you a soft kiss on your temple and you blush… even if you are still furious with him. His eyes open slowly, he’s got a sleepy little smile on his face. He’s really really cute when he’s sleepy 

“Hi, My name is still Buck, I still really like you, and this is my apartment. Can we go back to sleep now?” 

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head and he snorts, burying his face in your shoulder. 

This?? This is his place??? 

“If you shut up and go back to sleep I’ll make us breakfast later” 

“Breakfast??” You mumble confused and he hums happily 

“Or lunch, whenever the fuck we wake up… that okay with you baby?” 

You settle back into him, his hands are warm, his arms are warm, he’s warm. 

“Yeah… Lunch sounds good” 

[xhoneygirlxx]

Still Adore You (With Your Hand Around My Neck)

Epilogue: Destroy Myself

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: this is the beginning of the end. the start of a chaotic relationship you just can't seem to leave.

warnings: Eddie and Reader are in their 20s. Modern Au! kind of mean Eddie. rated R for smut, 18+ only Minors DNI!! unprotected p in v. cream pie. swearing. shitty writing and grammar errors.

*if i miss anything let me know*

a/n: hello my loves! this is part one to my still adore you series! i hope you guys like it as much as i do. thank you all for the love and support you've given me, i love you all so much <3

Also if you are an ageless/faceless blog you will be blocked. please have something on your profile so I know you are not a minor and are not a bot.

series masterlist

I pray my salvation makes it to the pearly gates,

Bring the suffering that I face,

All the things that I face,

Destroy myself just to wait for you.

When God created the Earth, he picked two of his children to live amongst the paradise he built to be our parents - Adam and Eve. The Garden of Eden was beautiful, a place like no other. The only rule that God gave was for them to not eat from the one tree, the tree of knowledge of right and wrong, good and evil.

They had plenty of other trees to eat from, other fruits to feast on, but when the serpent came speaking words of temptation, Eve gave into him and took a bite from the forbidden fruit, Adam would soon follow after her.

Because of the rule was broken and they went against God, they were banished forever and were cursed with the pain of mortality. Their children and their children's children would face pain and sorrow, hurt and sickness, and ultimately death.

Like Eve, you gave into temptation as well, the warnings you received and how you ignored them all for the name of love. From the very first time you met Eddie Munson warning signs flashed, blinding you with the bright lights. Caution tape blocked you from crossing that line but you inevitably ignored it, ducting under it and continuing on your way.

You walked straight into the line of fire for the promise of nirvana, for just a taste of the sweetness of his love. For the longest time you thought Eve was stupid for falling for the devil's tricks but when he came to you with the prettiest brown eyes and lips that you wanted to kiss for hours, you finally understood.

Dying by the hands of the man that you love is probably the worst death. His strong grip squeezing the air out of you so slowly, smiling at you as he did it felt like torture, but what a way to go. You'd still adore Eddie with his hand wrapped around your neck, with his heavy palm crushing your windpipe, and you'd die so full of love.

The night breeze cools the heat of your skin, hitting your sweat soaked hairline and creating chills that ran up the skin of your arm. The night was still young as they say, the party inside still going in full force. Sweat bodies and clouds of smoke filled every room, creating a sort of heat that quickly became too unbearable.

Quickly finding refuge in crackling embers of the firepit. Unknown people and nameless faces fill the chairs around you, mingling with one another. Despite the happy nature and good vibe of the atmosphere around you, you sit with a permanent frown. Pissed isn't even the word you'd want to use for how you feel at the moment.

Furious, enrage, even spitting angry would be a better description for how you felt towards your friends right now. A random house party in a random place was not how you wanted to spend your Friday night, but then Annika and Nikki looked at you with their big pleading eyes and the end was history.

"We'll stick next to you the whole time," they said, "We promise we won't leave."

Only an hour in and their promise was nothing but a lie, leaving you the minute you stepped through the threshold shouting that they'd return shortly. You didn't expect any less honestly, Annika only wanted to come here for the possibility of hooking up and Nikki was more interested in the arrival of her possible new girlfriend Val.

You always found something to do whether it was people watching or drinking until your vision began to blur. Tonight was different however, being the designated driver you were banned from drinking any alcohol and people watching was only fun for the first forty five hours.

Now you sit playing on your phone, scrolling through every app on your phone until your friends finally arrived. You continue to look at the bright screen in your hands reading through old notes that you had yet to delete, too engrossed by the amount of grocery lists to realize that half of the group left the circle.

"You know this is a party, right?" A gruff voice asks.

Lifting your head slightly, you look up from under your eyelashes to the man across from you, scowl written on your lips. The orange glow highlights him in the best of ways, making him even more alluring.

Brown curls fall from the the bun that sits on top of his head, framing his face so beautifully. His lips pull into a smirk, making the deep crevice of his dimples pop out. Big doe eyes sparkle at you, glimmering in the heat of the flames.

His outfit is basic, a band tee with a faded logo, showing off how well loved it was. The holes in his black skinny jeans show off the tiniest hint of black ink that hides beneath the fabric. The fire and moon fight over the rings that sit on his hands, both going back and forth on which one glints in the silver. A loose cigarette sits tucked behind his ear and a sweating bottle of beer rests in his strong hands.

He's captivating, alluring you like the serpent did Eve. You don't engage, promptly scoffing and then rolling your eyes back down to your phone.

"You know my uncle always said if you roll them hard enough, they'll get stuck."

You hear it before you see it, the grin that sits on his face. It adds gasoline to the already burning inferno that rests inside of you adding turbulence, causing roaring flames.

"Good, hope they do." It's bitchy, ice cold like a winter's breeze. Instead of hurling an insult that you, he laughs. A true genuine laugh that you'd compliment if it weren't for the anger pumping through you.

Shutting your phone off, you drop it into your lap and cross your arms over your chest. Sighing loudly, you look at the curly haired man across from you unimpressed, eyebrow arching sharply.

He takes your challenge of a stare down, watching you over the glass of his beer bottle as he puts it to his lips taking a swig. His gaze in unfaltering but yours isn't. It's not your fault though, not when his neck looks so delicious as he swallows every last drop.

Removing the bottle from his mouth, he catches you eyeing the plump of his lips. Even though you've been caught, your stare doesn't waver, only moving the line of your sight back up to his eyes.

"Ya know, it's not really nice to be mean to your friend." His statement causes another eye roll from you, another loud scoff pulling from your throat.

"You're not my friend," Your words swim with annoyance and it only fuels the man in front of you even more.

Gasping loudly, a ringed hand clutches his chest as if he'd been insulted to the fullest. "I'm not you're friend? I thought the warmth of the fire cemented our relationship."

He curls his lips inwards, biting back a laugh that threatens to sneak it's way out. You're not any better, your bottom lip stinging with the pressure of your teeth that sink into it.

Silences covers the two of you, begging for one of you to break first. Although you put up the toughest of fights, you're the first to lose, a small giggle escaping the lock on your lips. The man isn't far behind you, snorting loudly into the quiet night air.

"First of all, I don't even know your name." You counter, mentally berating yourself for letting a laugh squeak out.

"Oh, you need my name?" He asks, eyebrows raising curiously.

Your eyes squint at the absurdness of his question, "Yeah, that's how making friends works, genius."

Batting his eyelashes, he waves a hand at you in flattery. "I love it when you call me sweet names."

His voice is flirty teasing you to the fullest and if you don't do something fast you're going to melt, and not because the heat of the flames.

"That's my cue to leave." Pushing yourself halfway up from the chair, you're immediately stopped by his arm waving you to stop.

"No, no I quit, I promise." It's said between breathless laughs, his eyes crinkling at the sides when he does.

Smirking ever so slightly, you bask in the sound of his voice. Sitting down slowly, you sigh as if you'd rather not be here regardless of the growing smile tugging at your lips.

Once sat back in your seat, you wait with a tapping foot and crossed arms, trying your hardest to look annoyed. He looks at you smugly, like he's enjoying the little performance you put on.

"If I tell you my name, you gotta tell me yours." He demands, you don't respond just pulling your hand out to inspect the acrylics that rest on your hand.

"I'm Eddie." He beams at you, rolling his tongue over his bottom lip.

You purse your lips, looking him up and down as if you're bored. When you give him your name, he nods slowly and repeats it like it's the prettiest thing he's heard.

"Well there you go, now we're friends." The depth of his voice makes the beat of your heart skip, cheeks burning the more you get flustered.

Shaking it off, you give him a look that the kind that reads "really?", and he only answers by returning a look that says "of course". Sucking your teeth, you look down at the blue fabric of your jeans.

"We can't be friends if we don't even hang out." It's shy, your confidence subsiding harshly under the heat of his eyes.

Now he scoffs, shaking his head back and forth causing the loose curls to move with him. "Don't do me like that, Pookie. Just gimme your number and I'll hang out any time your little heart desires."

"You did not just call me fucking Pookie." You laugh, throwing your head back and clutching your stomach.

You don't see him but Eddie just looks at you like you're the prettiest thing he's ever seen, adoration swimming in the dark color of his eyes.

When your laughter ceases and you fall back into your normal position, you open your eyes to see him looking at you. For the first time in your life you finally see what it's like to be looked at as if you hung the stars in their place. It feels good, heart racing and air catching in the back of your throat.

Blinking out of your trance, you nod shakily. "Umm, you said something about my ugh number?"

Eddie reaches into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his phone and tapping in the code to unlock it. Handing it over to you wordlessly, it's already open to the new contact screen where you punch in the ten digit number. You ponder for a moment before typing in a name, flicking back and forth between the options you have, until you ultimately adding it under your given nickname with a black heart.

Handing it back to him, he looks at it smirking and then puts it back into its rightful home of his pocket. Opening his mouth to say something Eddie is interrupted with the sound of the backdoor opening and the rush of the music inside pouring from the doorway.

"Hey, we've been looking for you!" Annika shouts, stumbling towards you on unsteady feet.

Looking at the clearly tipsy girl, you turn back around to see give a sympathetic look to Eddie, quietly apologizing for your drunken friend.

"I guess that's my que to go." You shrug, moving from your spot on the chair.

Eddie only looks at you tenderly, dimples on full display for you. "Go ahead, Pookie. I'll see you later."

Sending you off with a wink, you walk away from the sanctuary you found. Walking over to your friend, you can't help but look back at the pretty boy you met finding him already smiling back at you.

Threading your arm in your friend's, you allow her to put her weight onto you so she doesn't fall. Unfocused eyes scan to where you keep looking, squinting to find the person.

"Who's that?" She keeps squinting, trying hard to see the man's features.

When her eyes seem to make out what she looks like, she perks up with a dopey smile. "Oh my fucking gawd, he's hot."

Saying it a little too loudly, you instantly clap your hand over her mouth and look back to make sure Eddie hasn't heard. You find him shaking his head, shoulders shaking with a clear laugh as he lights the cigarette that hangs between his teeth.

"Hope you got his number, would be a shot missed if you didn't." She chastises once you remove your palm from her lips. You sigh loudly and pull her along and make your way into the house.

Eddie kept his promise, using all his free time over the summer to see you. It started off innocently enough, late night drives down to the lake, midafternoon hangouts in the Dairy Queen parking lot where you’d sit in the bed of his beat up truck, and hanging out in his apartment watching him play video games.

Friends, that’s all it was in the beginning. Two people opening up to one another, bonding over their shitty childhoods and laughing at jokes that no one else ever understood.

As the heat of the roaring sun became more intense, so did the relationship between the two of you. Touches became lingering like the tickle of the tall overgrown grass by the lake. Kisses were light and airy, reminiscent of the lightning bugs that flew around in the dark summer sky. Eddie’s scent lingered with you even after you’d gone home, similar to sunscreen.

Tangled sheets and messy hair, flustered cheeks and dopey smiles. The two of you shined so bright even the stars that hung from the dark blue night were jealous.

But when the sunsets came sooner and sooner, so did the end of your fairytale. Calls became unanswered, hangouts were no more, and hand holding became totally off limits. What was once warm and sickly sweet smiles, was now cold shoulders and icy attitudes.

You felt stupid, falling for someone that wasn’t even yours. Giving Eddie your heart on a platter when he never even asked. When this all started you knew what it was, signing your soul over to the devil using your blood as ink.

The risks were in plain sight, the rules agreed on with the locking of pinkies, and yet you still broke them. Eddie told you over and over again this wasn’t anything other than some fun, a way to pass the boring summer days faster.

And although it hurt, you still plunged the sword deeper and deeper. What is love without some loss?

The mahogany teakwood candles that burns on the top of your dresser does nothing to get rid of the smell that you and Eddie have created. Notes of dark oat and frosted lavender are being drowned out by sweat and sex.

Cotton sheets soak up the perpetration, the outline of his body imprinted to remind you that he was once there, the only lingering memory of him when he inevitably leaves. Cheeks flushed with red, screaming claw marks on alabaster skin, and bruises in the shape of teeth.

"Fuck, squeezin' me s'good, baby." Eddie's all gritted teeth and panting breath as he wiggles around underneath you.

The ache in your knees is no match for the burn you feel in the pit of your stomach, your hole clenching around the thickness of his cock. Switching between bouncing and rocking your hips, you're hurdling closer and closer to the edge.

Sentences aren't even forming in your brain, only random blabbering falls from your lips in loud whines with the way he punches into your cervix.

"S'good, shit you feel so good." It comes out like a sob, ripped right out from the depths of your soul.

Big strong hands grip at the plush of your hips, finger prints threatening to leave a mark for the next day. A wicked grin forms on red kiss bitten lips, basking in the glory of you crumbling on top of him.

"Yeah? Is it good, princess?" Arrogant and cocky, two traits that only he can pull off without it being a turn off.

Your head wildly bobs, drool escaping from your parted lips. "Uh huh," the only real response you can give him in this very moment and it's all he needs to know he's fucked you dumb beyond repair.

Bending his knees, Eddie starts to fuck up into you with unwavering force. The thatch of course hair that sits at the base of his cock catches deliciously on your swollen and neglected clit, resulting in harsh mewl.

With your own eyes screwed shut you don't see that his have rolled into the back of his head, jaw unhinged with the pleasure of you clasping around him tightly. Regardless of his own peak nearing, Eddie continues to keep up with his facade, making sure you finish way before he does.

"I'm so deep huh? S'deep, shit- so deep in this tight f-uhh, fucking cunt." Teeth bite down on the fat of his bottom lip, holding the whimpers from escaping from his mouth.

The speed of his movements, the loud squelch of your juices, and the intensity of him hitting into your g-spot is enough to make your head dizzy. He's everywhere, his touch, his scent, his voice. He's everywhere, all around you and you don't think that anything else in the world could create the same euphoric feeling he does.

"M'gonna-, ah I'm gonna cum." The end is closing in on you, the wave of ecstasy crashing into the shore. Although it feels so good crossing the finish line, you know when it's over he'll be gone all too soon.

"Me too, sweetheart. Motherfuck-, cum for me." The act that he had put on has finally faltered, cracking right at the seams.

That does it, pushes you right off the edge into the blissful waters of your high. Your already weakening knees have now failed you, letting you drop onto the slick soaked skin of Eddie's tattooed chest.

The two of you continue to whimper and moan as your highs ripple through you. Both of you create lightning, a pair of super bolts roar in the middle of your quiet bedroom. In the heat of your bliss, you're completely ignorant to the consequences of such strong power being created. No matter what the outcome is, at least it was beautiful and for the smallest of moments, it was real.

After the glory has finally wore off you remove yourself from him, letting out a strong hiss when the feeling of him is completely out of you. Letting your body fall to the plushness of your mattress, you allow yourself to cycle through the memory of it all.

Naked chests heave, a silence pulling over both of you like a heavy quilt in the winter. It's comfortable like this, the heat radiating off of your skin mixes with Eddie's, the pumping of hearts syncing into the same rhythm pattern.

While your body settles into the softness of your bed, Eddie's is quick to jump up from his spot with a loud grunt. Fresh red marks flash at you, decorating the smooth skin of his back along with the pretty freckles you used to trace with the soft flesh of your finger tips.

As he sits on the side of your bed catching his breath, you wonder if he misses the feeling of your touch the way you miss his skin. You wonder if he misses the intensity of your body next to his, arms and legs tangled together buried underneath the shelter of his comforter. You wonder if his bed misses the shape of your body the way yours misses his.

The springs of your mattress groan when the weight of his body leaves and for a moment you feel the same way. Footsteps are muted by the fibers of your carpeting. You watch from your spot as Eddie grabs a tissue from your vanity, wiping himself free of any evidence of you and then disposing it into the garbage can with a careless toss.

Muscles flex as he begins to redress himself, hiding the masterpiece that you left on his skin. You hope that they sting when he's under the heated water of his shower, a pang that will go away within a few days while the pang of your hurt will last a lifetime.

His messy curls pull from the neck of his shirt, shaking with the motions of his head trying to get rid of the unruly hair that masks his vision. From the singular foot away that the two of you stand, you pray that he won't leave, that this isn't the end.

"Do you wanna stay? W-we could watch a movie or something." Behind the sincerity of your voice is a girl that mourns the loss of her once best friend, begging him to remember what the two of you had in the beginning.

The clang of his belt ricochets through the room, an uncomfortable hallow sound that you wish to forget. Spinning on the socked heel of his foot, he gives you a blank face. One so devoid of emotion, cold and vacant.

"Don't start doin' this, Pookie. You already know what this is." A clear warning given with a strict tone.

The nickname that used to cause butterflies only brings mountains of sadness. It used to have meaning, a funny inside joke between the two of you now dwindled down to the name of a place holder.

"I just thought-" Going unfinished by the sound of Eddie's deep sigh.

"Not tonight, kay?" He says as nicely enough to placate you and even though you know nothing will come from it, you're still full of hope.

Bending down, he begins to slide his feet into his shoes, the same one's you gifted to him only so many months ago. Watching him tie the browning shoelaces of his vans, you wonder if he remembers the way you smiled while handing him the box, or how he felt when you said you got them just because.

It tugs at your already bandaged heart, the sticky adhesive of band aids doing their absolute best to keep the muscle intact. The rattle of the remaining broken pieces rattle in your ears, muffling everything else around you.

The lanky man stands to full height, grabbing his beloved leather jacket from your floor where it was left in the tornado of excitement. Rounding the end of your bed he makes his way to you, standing over your still naked body.

Bending at the waist, Eddie places a wet kiss on your forehead and pulls away with charming smile.

"I'll text you, pook."

You nod at his words, gripping on tightly to the faith that this whole thing will work out the way you hope. Giving you a wink, Eddie quickly exists your room and just like that you crumble.

On the wet sheets of your bed you curl into yourself, naked and vulnerable in more ways than one. Tears leak from your eyes and sobs rip from the depths of your stomach. It hurts watching him walk out because you never know when it'll be the last time.

You try to think back to when everything changed, where it all went wrong. All of the flashbacks and memories flood your brain, a film wheel of all the happy moments. More tears flow, a nonstop river of all the heartache.

You miss him, what your friendship used to be. At this point you don't even care if he loves you the way you love him, you just want him to care for you like he did all those months ago.

You wish you could go back to that warm summer day where you handed over your heart and let him carve his name in it, so that no matter what you did you'd belong to him for the rest of your days.

thank you all for reading!! i hope you guys like part one :)

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[corazondebeskar-reads]

too much

dark!Joel Miller x gn!reader

I know, I know, I already posted a fic today, but I couldn't fight off the ideas bouncing around my head after @ozarkthedog's post about Joel choking you. This is one of two ficlets inspired by Ozzie's post (they're both dark, but this one is darker). The other one, "not enough," is also gn!reader and enthusiastic consent but still dark, but it'll be up to you if it's the same couple. It's just a different take.

words: 431

summary: You don't know when to shut up.

warnings: dark, choking, violent choking (not RACK for sure), smothering with hand, open ending, dub-con, could be considered non-con, mean!joel, dark!joel, implied sexual relationship but no actual sex (ik, sorry, next one has some), no y/n, not proofread, reader is smaller than joel but who isn't amiright

dividers by @saradika-graphics

You hadn’t meant to say it, but you did. Hadn’t meant to provoke him, not while his eyes were hollow and the air parted around him, every nerve in your body alight. But you had kicked down the literal and metaphorical caution tape, and now? Well, now you were going to pay for it. 

There’s really only one of two ways this can go for you.

He’d thrown you against the wall and growled, “what did you fucking say to me?” but you know he didn’t want an answer.

You know that because he’s making sure you can’t. Your feet are on the ground still, just by the toes of your bulky oversized boots, the ones whose incessant clomp clomp clomp drive him up the wall anyway. But he’s got both massive, meaty paws on you now, the first and most pressing of which is around your throat. 

It’s not the good kind of choking where he presses on the throbbing veins that curl up the side of your neck. It’s the scary kind, the kind where he’s pushing the heel of his palm against the hollow of your throat, and little grunts are being squeezed out of your swollen lips.

That was too much noise for him, though, so the other hand envelopes your mouth first. It makes you squirm and thrash, hands wrapped around his wrists to try to pry him away. Light is returning to his eyes, but oh, you wish it wasn’t, as he adjusts his bruising grip on your jaw to clamp over your nose as well.

Your eyes are wide, and your face is burning, failed little gasps barely brushing against his palm. He smirks when you try to bite. 

“You ready to fuckin’ apologize?”  

But you can’t answer, left only to plead with teary eyes.

“You gonna listen to me?” 

It’s too much. You can’t really hear him well now, not over the rush and throb of blood trying desperately to reach your brain. He’s fuzzy or blurry or fading away, maybe all of the above; you don’t know; you can’t think. 

He eases up just a little, shifts his hands to pinch at the sides, and lets your windpipe free. The hand on your jaw offers a brief reprieve to let you gasp and choke on an answer.

“Yes, m’sorry,” you manage to cry. 

He returns his hand to your face and presses you against the wall with his towering body, letting you feel the rigid line of his cock against your hip. 

“Prove it,” he says, and lets go, letting you crumble.

[jackdelroys]

[forehead] for bob taylor

hi! thanks for the request!! don't mind the formatting here, i'm still trying to experiment a bit and see what i like, so bear with me here! i also threw in a bit of personal hc i have for him: he has a physical tic that involves itching at himself (possibly until it bleeds) so if that bothers you, please proceed with caution!

[ forehead ] a gentle kiss on the partner's forehead, conveying care and affection

YOU notice his hands first. The way they tremble as he barely holds his head up in one, the other tracing the handle of the mug you'd pushed in front of him this morning. The tea was cold by now.

Then it's his wrists, wrapped in gauze and medical tape haphazardly, clean bandages to serve as a protective barrier from the way he itches at them constantly. He rubs his arm hard through the thick fabric of his sweater. You ponder what's going on in his brain.

You wonder if it's the same as always, if he's scratching at himself because somewhere deep beneath in his veins he can still feel the poison coursing through himself, deadly guilt and buried traumas and desperation to feel something, anything else. He moves his fingers to the table, nails trailing the same engraved marks as they do every morning. If he's carved the maze on purpose or not, you can't tell.

His eyes, they stare forward blankly. Once in a while he'll come to, and look around the small kitchen, but he doesn't ever meet your gaze. No, you can tell that he's looking for the danger. Then he's gone again.

You offer him the feeling of your hand over his, hoping that instead he might find a moment of comfort in your presence -- and that he does -- even if he seems to see right through you.

When he does look at you, it's with sincerity, and apology and a million other things and he thinks for a moment that he might be sick, with the way you look at him with such gentleness and love. His mouth falls just slightly open, but he doesn't say anything. He looks away again, down, then back up and he closes his mouth. His heart flutters at the way you see him. The way you are.

You press a soft kiss to his forehead, and reassure him. You mutter affections into his hair, brush it back and trace his cheek before grinning down at him. He hates to see the melancholy in your face. He hates to know he's put it there.

So, he decides today will be a better day than he's used to. If not for himself, then for you, and that pretty smile that makes living to see another day worth every second.

[green-kat331]

My Friend Spider-man

Pt 1 : Friendly Neighborhood Reporter

(Non-specific! spider-man x reader)

A/N: This is a spider-man from no specific universe, game, comic, or movie, so let me clear some stuff up about Peter. He's a college student (about 18-19 y/o), and He's an intern at the Daily Bugle. You have been his friend since high school and are also in college and working at The Bugle.

warning: Gun, Swearing?

Walking through the streets of Queens New York is no easy task. 

Your satchel bounced on your hip with each quick step. Today, you had to bring in your most recent reports to The Bugle. Something about a recent sports award or a shiny prize of some sort, you were practically asleep writing the damn thing. Judging by the busy crowd, you weren't gonna make it to save yourself from Jameson's lecture. Although the only thing he ever seems to talk about recently is Spider-man. 

The web-slinging hero has been on everyone's mind recently since yet another save from a superbad villain. You can still see caution tape on a few buildings if you just walk a few blocks. 

Now you're waiting towards the crosswalk when suddenly your arm is harshly pulled into an ally, and a gun is held to your stomach. A man cornered you and demanded your bag. 

"Hand it over, and I won't have to use this one you." 

"I- I swear I don't have anything very valuable in here for you to take. I have reports for my job that's it- I don't even carry a lot of cash on me—" you stutter through your stunned state trying to negotiate your way out of it, even though you know it's pointless 

"I said hand it over!" He demands a little louder now. 

Then another man runs into the alley, about the same age as the first man "Yo hurry up, we gotta get outta here," he whispered 

"Alright! I got it," the first man answers and starts to forcibly pull your bag off your shoulder, but you held on tight. The shaking forced the latch to release, and most of your reports spilled out of the bag. At the same time, the man shot the gun into the air, forcing you to let go and cover your ears. The two men ran out of the alley and into the city streets. 

You're left now alone with no choice but to salvage the papers you could. You held up the report by its edge. Now stained due to water and mud, the text was barely visible and the color was an ugly shade of brown. 

"Ugh...Dammit, " you mumble. To be frank, your pride was more hurt than anything. They were clearly disorganized and young. It felt like you got robbed by a couple of teenagers. 

You look around for any way to hold or dry the pages without damaging them. 

Suddenly, a loud scream catches your attention, then a loud bang makes you jump, and you see the guys that just robbed you wrapped in webs and stuck on a dumpster. Staring in confusion, you wonder where the hero that dropped the men off might be. 

Your question was soon answered. 

"This belong to you?" A voice says now behind you. 

The suddenness of the voice made you jump and turn around. you see the web-slinging vigilante hanging upside-down holding your satchel. You take a step back and stare at the masked hero. He tilts his head in wonder, then comes down from his web and hands you the bag properly. 

"Uh... thank you, Spider-man" A smile couldn’t help but appear on your face

"What this? Oh, it's no problem. Just doing what any good ol' Samaritan woulda done." He expressed even waving his hands in the air and leaning on the alley wall.

You chuckled a bit at his casualness. He spoke as though he'd known you forever. Guess they don't call him 'Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man' for nothing.

3 years he's been at this. For the entirety of your senior year, you've been invested in the good deeds he has committed. Whether it's helping an old woman or keeping the green goblin from blowing up the entire city. 

"So you, Report for the Bugle?" He asks, pointing at the papers. Coming out of your own thoughts. You see the muddy report with the mentioned newspaper logo in bold.

"yeah.. Yeah!.. Don't worry about Jameson. Trust me, not everyone there thinks he's right 100% of the time, especially about you. I don't read his blocks about you anyways," you ramble, kneeling down and picking up the rest of the reports.

"You a word-of-mouth type of person?" 

"... yeah... you could say that..."You respond 

Awkward silence

"...sorry... it's my first time getting robbed, Soo… Y' know I'm still...processing... Well maybe you don't actually know what it's like cuz- y'know-- you're spider-man.. i mean have you ever been robbed? sorry! That''s a stupid question. of course not" You ramble nervously tucking hair behind your ear and rubbing the back of your neck.

He chuckles. Then kneels down, and takes the papers from your arms, also doing his best to shake them dry. He puts them back into your bag, then shoots a web out of the ally "Next time you need my help, be sure to holler and I'll come swinging for you." he says with a wave and swings away. 

You wave back, staring at where he disappeared from, calmly you walk out of the ally preparing yourself for Jameson's lecture, but little does he know a spark of inspiration appeared from that brief encounter. 

Hopefully, today will be your day. 

---

You walk into The Bugle, moving past all the other reporters and editors running around the room. The sound of printers and typing almost made you walk right back out of the door, but you pushed through. 

"Hey,(____)." You hear Peter say. 

If you had to pick the most likable person in the office, Peter Parker would take the #1 spot every time. While people gave you sly looks for being a 'kid' in the work place. He never failed to greet you each morning occasionally with a coffee if you're lucky. 

You quickly greet him back, then immediately go into Jameson's office. 

"You're late." He states, not even bothering to look up at you. You rested the urge to choke him. 

"I know - I uhh I ran into an issue on my way -" 

"Put them on my desk then get working on the other files. They're on your desk. I want these all done by the end of the day" 

As you begin to take the files out, you try to talk, "I was actually thinking of asking if I could -"

"Jesus, they're filthy. Print out more and—" 

"I WAS ROBBED!" You finally shout, interrupting the prideful man "on the way here, that's why I'm late and why the papers are.. like that..." You finished now calmly.

He pauses 

"Well you’re alive arent you? Did they take anything?" He asks. You sigh. Finally, he listened. "No. That's what I wanted to talk about. My stuff was given back because Spiderman caught them and returned my items. I want to do a report on him and all the great things he's done. ," 

"The great things!? He is a menace! We shouldn't be celebrating his crimes -" 

"—I won't even ask for payment on this report. Come on, Mr. Jameson, why spend the entirety of your career shouting in papers and broadcasts about something you don't even like? For a few months is all I ask, I'll shine a different light on the vigilante while also doing my usual reports. 

The older man thinks for a moment. "Think of your blood pressure," you quickly add-in. He glares at you, knowing the numerous lectures he receives from his wife about it. You were right, and he gives up after taking another puff of his cigar he turns his chair towards you "fine you'll be put on reports about Spiderman and current events. Your first print is at the end of the week, and I want the ones on your desk printed by the end of the day." You nod and turn to walk out of his office. Looking out the glass panel, you make eye contact with Peter, who was messing with his camera. You look back at Jameson who was angrily scribbling on his notepad almost ripping the pages. 

"You're wrong about him, Jameson. He's good for this city." 

"You're lucky. You're a good reporter. I don't pay you to be biased and sentimental. Just get the job done." 

"... you don't pay me much of anything anyway." 

"I decided to give the kiddies a chance. I've been feeling generous this year. Don't make me regret it. Now go and get those reports PRINTED!" 

Quickly, you run out of his office, avoiding yet another burst eardrum. you slam the door and rush towards Peter with a giddy feeling in your stomach. You grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to your desk. 

"Peter Parker, you are not going to believe what gold I have struck today!" 

He stared at you with wondering eyes. "What- what? why? What happened just now?" 

"I got put on the Spiderman reports" 

"...the what now?" 

"I'm doing reports on Spiderman! Isn't that exciting? My days won't be filled with just writing about middle school basketball and what ducks are fed at the parks. This is something real, something new, something exciting, and you're going to help me!" You state. He still looks at you bewildered. Leaning in close you grab his hands in between yours.

"Peter Parker, you are the best photographer I know. You have captured numerous and damn near impossibly close images of Spiderman swinging around and in some of the most perfect poses ever." His eyes avert yours for a split second as he blushed, clearly flattered by your praises

"Now I'm relying on your skills to get pictures of him in action, I wanna see him being the hero we know he is. Defeating bad guys and saving civilians! They need to know that he's actually helping people. Like you, like me." 

Peter thinks for a moment, then looks into his camera. "You really think he's doing good?" 

"I think he's doing great. Nothing like what Jamison makes him out to be." 

He gives a quick smile, then walks over to his desk and grabs his bag. "So what are you gonna be doing?" He asks 

Before taking a seat, you grin at your friend.

"I'm going to get whatever little piece of info I can get on the guy."

You smirk and turned back to your desk, you can't think too far ahead now all you need to focus on was getting these reports out of your way. although you couldn't help but wonder about Peters's nervous expression.

shrugging your shoulders you pull open your first file.

Hours Later….

You drag yourself and your bag into your apartment doors nearly collapsing in the hallway, your roommate peaked out of his room.

“Damn, you look like shit,” he says laughing at your misery.

You glared at him putting down your bag and keys. The journey to your bedroom was torturous, your back ached and your eyes felt like they were about to fall out of your head. Staying till the end of the day to finish reports made you want to abandon The Bugle altogether. even though it isn't the latest you've come home due to the heavy amounts of work Jameson decided to give you. But still, who would've thought a rookie like yourself would be placed on a task so much larger than you really knew what to do with. It made you kick your feet into your mattress as your eyes slowly succumbed to exhaustion.

Tomorrow you were gonna do whatever you need to. You were gonna get an interview with Spiderman. 

____________________________________________

Also on AO3 in case you prefer to read fics there

[walker-extended-universe]

Not Again....

Relationship(s): David Luna/Cassie Perez

Tags/Warnings: Lunch Date, Car Accidents, Light Angst, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: When David drops off of a phone call, Cassie panics

Written for @flufftober Challenge Prompt 4: Suddenly Severed Communication

Taglist: @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks, @klaatu51, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134

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

Cassie had never watched the clock so closely in her life. 

Technically, she didn’t have a strict break schedule. Actually, following her promotion, she had fewer opportunities for breaks than at any other point in her career. Between handling the press, handling the DPS brass, and handling the rangers in the bullpen, she was lucky to get a lunch some days.

Of course, now that she had someone to spend those lunches with, they were her favorite part of the day (besides the part where she got to go home and have dinner with that same special someone).

But even if her lunch wasn’t scheduled, David’s was as the APD worked on a strict shift schedule. As a result, Cassie made it very clear that she would be taking her lunch break at the same time every day so they could have that hour together and if anyone had a problem with that, she could always find another job. Thankfully, James was very understanding as he also had a strict lunch date with Kelly and they worked out a deal where they’d cover for each other if a problem arose while the other was out.

So James had no objection to Cassie watching the clock and bolting from her desk the minute the clock struck 1pm. And, after 6 months of this, everyone in the bullpen (even Walker) knew better than to bother her on her way out.

As she walked, she called her boyfriend to see what their lunch plans were for the day. “Hey, babe,” she said when he picked up. “Where are we meeting?”

“Hey,” he greeted. “I was thinking we could go to the food truck court again; there’s supposed to be some new people setting up today.”

“Ooo, sounds adventurous. What are the new people gonna be selling?”

“I don’t know yet. That’s the fun-”

There was a loud screeching on the other side of the line, then a crash, then the line went dead.

Cassie’s heart dropped to her stomach. This couldn’t be happening, not again.

She tried calling him again and again as she ran out of the building, but none of them went through.

“Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit!” She ran to her truck and turned on her police scanner, listening for anything about the crash she heard while she pulled up David’s last known location on her phone.

She couldn’t lose him like this. Not again. Not when things were going so well.

He had to be fine. He just had to be.

—------

Cassie sped down the street, sirens blaring and gas pedal to the floor. She swerved through traffic, desperate to get to her destination before things went horribly, horribly wrong.

When she saw the other police cars and ambulances at the scene, her heart stopped. When she finally pulled the truck to a stop, her limbs felt heavy as she got out.

When she pushed through the caution tape and finally saw what was happening, she felt air rush back into her lungs.

David was fine. He was standing, as a matter of fact. He was directing people at the scene and speaking with the other officers.

He was fine. He was alive.

She could breathe.

Cassie just barely managed to wait until he was done talking before dashing over and almost tackling him in a hug. “Don’t do that again,” she pleaded, burying her face in his chest. “Don’t scare me like that. I thought- I thought…..”

She couldn’t finish the sentence.

“I’m sorry.” Luna’s arms wrapped around her. “The crash happened and- I didn’t think. I had to help….”

“I know….” She pulled back enough to give him a kiss. “Just- Send me a text next time?”

“I will,” he promised. He kissed her softly. “I think I’m free to go now if you’re still up for lunch?”

She smiled. “Definitely.”

[thelocalbozo]

You're Not That Bad Sokol x Jacket

I fucking love this ship and I will die on this hill I do not care, anyway's I am also posting this on ao3 and that one will be multi-chaptered if you like this fic you may like the longer version too :]

The gang was having a horror movie marathon at the safe house. It was Dallas’ idea to do it, granted he didn’t really think about the people who were afraid or didn’t like horror movies. Everyone was curled up with blankets and pillows in the common area, Wolf clung to Hoxton, who was unbothered eating popcorn. Sokol and Jacket were curled up next to each other shitting on the characters who were dying and how the killers made no sense, Jacket scribbled comments down on a notepad. Sokol chuckled after the last comment, 

“You know you aren’t that bad.” Sokol whispered looking at Jacket, studying the sociopath's face. Jacket’s eyes widened ever so slightly before he looked back at the notepad scribbling down a response.

‘You are not bad to’ Jacket looked back up at Sokol, who was reading his illiterate writing. Neither of them were paying attention to the movie on the screen, there was a loud jumpscare, Sokol jumped being startled back into reality, he grabbed Jacket holding him before realizing what he jumped at. He pushed himself off Jacket, who was more or less surprised by the sudden physical contact, everyone had looked over at them when it happened, Jacket waved them off and everybody went back to the movie. He looked back at Sokol who looked awkward, blush lightly dusted his cheeks from embarrassment, apologized for it and started watching the movie again. Jacket scribbled on the notepad again, poking Sokol holding up the pad for him to read. 

‘Its ok man’ Sokol looks back up again, smiling awkwardly. He brings his arm up and wraps it around Jacket’s shoulder, pulling him closer. Jacket was surprised by the action but didn’t mind and they went back to shitting on the characters again.

“That’s a stupid way to die, I wouldn’t die like that, in fact I’d kill the killer.” Sokol laughs under his breath looking over at Jacket who smiled at the comment. ‘Me too’

Eventually it begins getting  late and everyone is starting to fall asleep, some cuddled up together, Jacket and Sokol were among the few that cuddled together, granted that was not intended, they just both fell asleep, Sokol had unwrapped his arm from Jacket before they did, but they still ended up sleeping in each others arms, Jacket’s head rested on Sokol’s large chest, arm wrapped around his waist, while Sokol snored softly into Jackets short hair, his arm back around his shoulder. The next morning however, Sydney, Jimmy and Wolf stared down at the two, giggling and as giddy as small school children Sydney took pictures on her phone claiming ‘it’s for research’, Dallas reentered the room cleaning up excess blankets and pillows, expressing that it wasn’t a good idea to take pictures given Jacket’s temper, Sydney brushed him off saying she has done worse and he didn’t care. Dallas just huffed out a laugh and shook his head walking out of the common area with an arms load of blankets. Soon after Dallas left Sokol and Jacket started to wake up unsure of their surroundings, groggily they opened their eyes Jacket was the first to realize their position and that the rest of the ‘freak squad’ were practically surround them, he popped up into a sitting position blushing bright red by the embarrassing turn of events, Sokol took a minute to register what was happening before also popping up standing quickly, Jacket followed suit. 

“What’s wrong mate? Thought ya get more private time together?” Sydney laughed out, watching them awkwardly look away from one another, Jacket searched for his tape recorder finding it he rewound it, pressing play.

‘Exercise caution when aggravating my temper’ He looked at the three in front of them giving them a look of disdain, granted he looked like that most of the time so they were used to it, Jimmy was the next to speak, perking up and smirking. 

“When were you gonna tell us? We’re your best friends!” He stated giggling, Jacket raised an eyebrow and shook his head wildly, Sokol’s face burned bright red at the comment, slapping a hand over his mouth before quickly exiting the room, nearly running down the stairs to his hockey rink. Jacket shook his head more as he walked off to the kitchen area. They all giggled mischievously. They were planning something.    

[seldomscilence16]

Whumptober day 2:

Trust Issues

Amusement Park | “You got away with the crime, while the knife’s in my back.”

Fandom: BNHA

…

Swallowing thickly, adjusting his shirt for the umpteenth time, avoiding his own eyes in the mirror before him, static clinging to his being as his hair floats,

“Haven’t you been dating this chick for a while?”

“I’m not nervous!”

Denki’s too quick defense has Sero raising a brow where he lounges on the blonds bed, handheld game long forgotten as he watches the nervous wreck in front of him,

“Denk’s, is there a reason you’re… not… nervous?” The tape hero questions with caution, tone gentle and non judgmental to try and ease the nerves of his friend.

“Everythings fine dude! I just… want everything to go right!” Denki has turned away from the mirror, busying himself with collecting his stuff and straightening his room.

“It’s just a date, to an amusement park of all things, it’s supposed to be fun.” Sero’s eyes track Denki as he moves about, noting the trembling hands and small sparks that pop from his fingers where static meets conductors.

Denki doesn’t answer, but he does pause, eyebrows furrowed for some reason, he turns to his friend for the first time in at least an hour,

“Dates are supposed to be fun??” The genuine confusion concerns Sero all over again.

“Yes…” He drawls carefully, “You have been dating this girl cause you like her right?”

Denki’s brow furrows more, staring at Sero as if to find the joke in his words, but when he finds none, he can only look away again.

“I mean, yeah of course. W-why else would I go through all this trouble?”

“Denki Pikachu Kaminari, what's going on? Do I need to get the others??” Sero stands, putting his best impression of an American mother into his stance and threat.

Denki whips back around hands out in a placating gesture, wild look in his eyes,

“Don’t!”

Oh, he definitely would be.

“What is going on Denks, you’re freaking me out.”

The groan that leaves the blond is reluctant and panicked,

“It's not that big a deal!”

“If it's upsetting you it is!”

Wrapping his arms tightly around himself, Denki stares at the ground, and Sero’s own nerves just continue to grow at the silence, until,

“My parents have been setting me up on these dates.” It's admitted quietly, barely an utterance, but Sero hears it nonetheless.

“What, why?”

“Look, I just have to get through this date, I’ll tell you everything later, but I can’t be late.”

His eyes bore into Sero’s, a storm of emotions, and Sero has rarely been able to turn down his friend.

“Alright…”

He’ll get the others, it looks like they had plans tonight after all.

…

It was their third date, and while Denki was never a fan of them when his parents were involved, this set had been particularly… rough.

The girls his parents picked out were typically the few that he would rather die than date. Rude, money seeking, power hungry, well Denki could go on. He could usually deal, three dates, he could come up with a reason his parents should hate them and they’d move on and Denki would have about a month of freedom. It was a tiring routine but he had been handling it, until Ryo Hinaku.

The last two dates, she had planned some rather cruel ‘pranks’. Denki wasn’t a newb to having a laugh, he knew laughter was good medicine, but he also was well aware of the line between funny and not. Hinaku however, didn't seem to care, she delighted in terrifying Denki and luring him in with a false sense of security. Claiming he was being a baby, and couldn't take a joke, and what kind of hero in training was he anyway.

But it was just one last date, just one more, he just needed to be vigilant, and not fall for any more tricks. He could do this…

He couldn’t do this.

“Hinaku, are you sure?”

“Don't be a party pooper, it's literally a date requirement to go on these rides.”

Denki stares at the coaster, large and mostly enclosed, a mix of Villain and horror theme of some kind. Denki didn't mind rollercoasters or horror, but this was the perfect place for her to pull something, and he’d much prefer if it wasn't in a place with figures that had faces that haunted some of his worst nightmares. But from the grip she had on his arm, and the large mass of people around them, it would be better not to pick a fight, causing a scene would only make his parents mad.

“Trust me, it’ll be fun.”

He doesn’t, but goes anyway, waiting in line and making it all the way up front with a cobra wrapped around his arm uncomfortably, they find their seats, Denki taking care in strapping in.

The blond should have known, he should have seen it coming, he should have said no.

Straps locked in, he turns to find Hinaku up on the platform at the exit, her grin is as spine tingling as they come as she wiggles her fingers in a taunting goodbye. The ride starts up, she touches something on the control podium and leaves as the coaster zooms to life.

No other screams accompany his own.

…

“I swear I saw them come this way-”

“There!”

The group turns to see Ryo Hinaku by herself, a wicked grin on her face as she laughs with some tall dude they’d never seen before. They’re walking away from the main coaster in the Scare part of the park, and there's no Denki in sight.

“What the hell.” Bakugo mutters, a dark look on his face.

“Who the heck is that, and where's Denki?” Mina looks ready to pounce, all sense of excitement vanishing as she finds the situation more severe than they’d thought.

There's shouts coming from inside the ride, real terror clear, as people run out in a panic. Including who looks to be the ride conductor. They run as one, grabbing the guy before he can get far,

“What happened?!” Sero puts every ounce of ‘Hero’ into his voice as he can, channeling Aizawa sensei.

“The box exploded! There's a fire and the ride’s stuck!” He sounds young, likely not someone in charge, his fear is wild and full and they won't get much from him.

“How many were on the ride??”

“J… just one. A chick slipped me extra to give them a private ride but then she left the kid all alone! I… It was too late to stop the ride, I thought it would be fine!”

They had a sick feeling in their gut.

“Call the authorities. We’ll do what we can.”

The guy runs.

“I’m gonna kill her.” Bakugo growls.

“Denki first.” Kirishima reminds the angry blond, his own face set in a snarl unlike his usual look.

“Uh guys.” Mina points to the building, just as the first wood plank falls, fire engulfing the entrance.

“Could really use water powers about now.” Sero mutters, “We don’t know how far the ride was, we need to hurry, Denki could be stuck.”

“This is one of the larger rides, it has loops and everything, if it stopped on one…” Mina gnaws on her lip at the thought.

“We need to get in there, and fast, before someone shows up and stops us.” Sero agrees, “maybe we make our own entrance.”

Bakugo’s grin is feral as he complies.

…

Denki groans, head spinning and light, arms above his head and something pushing uncomfortably into his shoulders. He blinks several times to clear his vision, only to find the fog isn’t on his eyes, no not fog, smoke. Shit.

His arms feel like lead as he tries to bring them to his face- Ah… he’s upside down.

Denki hates his life sometimes.

At least this would be a good reason not to date her any longer.

Alright Denki, just be calm, you can do this, just shock the mechanism and you can open the seat locks. Do a cool superhero landing, get yourself out of here, everything will be fine. He looks down- er… up? Whatever- Below him, to find the floor really far away. Like really far. What the flip. How was this up to code!? In a building!? On fire!?

“Calm down. Alright. You can do this Denki. Just… don't let go of the seat, and you won't fall to your doom. You got this.”

Deep breaths are hard when all your organs are squished against your throat, but Denki takes one anyway before reaching for his quirk. A small spark from his hands, the shoulder bracer springs open and the waist belt pops apart. His body goes with gravity, his knuckles white as he holds the bracer- his collar bone sends a wave of pain from his head to his toes, his hand spasming with it.

Well the ground looks closer now.

Remembering every bit of training he can, he decides he needs his legs more, and maneuvers his body mid air to do some kind of roll. He's also reminded that that is far easier to do at an angled drop than a straight fall. Darkness encompasses his vision.

Everything hurts as the world comes back, smoke is filling his lungs and his quirk is buzzing crazier than usual. Forcing his eyes open, he must be laying in the spot from his earlier view, as he now can see the empty coaster above him. That and the heat of flames licking in from all sides.

Releasing another groan, he forces his body to comply as he stumbles to his feet, one arm hanging uselessly to his side while the other wraps around aching ribs. His vision spins as his brain pounds on his skull- proving he does in fact have one thank you- but he makes his way towards the least blazey part of the room.

Leaning partly against a wall to remain on his feet, Denki keeps moving forward in the hopes of an exit sign. He hears crashes behind him and tries not to cringe and upset his collar bone further, to keep his panic at bay at the encroaching fire. The wall ends abruptly and he finds himself stumbling into a room as the tracks turn. He freezes as a voice fills his ears, raising his head to find several villains from the USJ attack.

The building shakes as more booming collapses happen somewhere behind him, dust fills the room and he can barely shield his face in time for the trembling fall of the framed entrance of the room. Before he can catch his breath, reorient, water falls from the ceiling in a large wave that has him smacking into the wall and his vision whiting out as air leaves his lungs and water fills his nose.

“Our Quirks definitely have the a-a-advantage in the w-wa-wat-er-er.”

…

“Shit shit shit! Hurry, that way!!”

“Its the only fuckin way, calm the hell down!”

“Move!”

Kirishima collides with all three of his friends, sending them sprawling into the next room as more ceiling falls behind them, blocking off their previous path.

“What if he was in there! The coaster was… I mean he has to be okay right!?”

What had once been the largest loop, was now a crumbling mess, coaster cars in pieces, but no sign of the blond that they could see. With the path back now gone, they had to hope…

“Look.” Bakugo’s palm is lit up in sparking bursts, illuminating the wall next to them where a smear of blood slices through the painting of the slums. “It's fresh.”

“It's so much…oh Denki where are you?”

The group follows the tracks, the passageway obviously an interlude to something else, a sharp turn has them frowning, as around the corner is blocked. But the blood leads them here.

“The main supports seem fine still.” Kirishima notes, dust and ash smeared along his exposed skin. His shirt is tied around his face, his extra shirt around Mina’s, while Sero and Bakugo had used their jackets.

“Then let's get this shit out of the way.”

Mina melts what she can, Kirishima uses brute force on the larger pieces and Bakugo and Sero work at the rest. As water starts seeping through the cracks, they all share worried looks, as a small shock lights up where if dripped on Seros arm, the panic sets in. He jerks away, the others doing much the same at his intense reaction,

“Either a power line broke in there. Or…”

“Shit.”

“DENKI! ARE YOU IN THERE BUDDY??” Kirishima’s voice booms around them, hoping the small gaps would be enough to allow sound through.

It's as he thinks it, that he hears anything at all. A whirring sound, like a broken record, low and creepy as words crackle through it,

“We’ll g-g-get-t th-th-ose kid-d-ds as so-oo-on as t-t-t-t-they hi-hi-hit the wat-eeeer.”

“Denki?” Mina cautions.

A wet gurgle of a gasp, a groan,

“Denki! We’re here buddy!” Sero moves closer, stepping over the small trickle of a puddle, “Denks, to get to you, I need you to stop your quirk.”

“V..vill…”

“It's not real, and if it is, we’ll destroy it before it can get to you. But we have to be able to get in.”

“S..sorry..”

“Nothing to apologize for. Just… help us out okay? We’re right here.”

It's quiet besides some quiet rasping breaths, Sero hesitantly touches the water, with a quick nod, the four of them make quick work of the rest of the pile, water cascading out and soaking them in one fell swoop. They can hardly care however, as a panicked gasp hits their ears, rushing inside to find a room full of several USJ villain animatronics, and one coming right at Denki.

Bakugo releases a fierce yell, explosions lighting up the room, Kirishima is quick to harden and shield Denki’s prone form, as Mina and Sero drop to his sides. He sopping wet, blood matting his hair further, as well as one side of his body, enough they can’t tell where it originates from. His eyes are bleery, blinking unevenly up at them, breaths still that wet sounding rasp.

“Shit dude, what the heck happened to you.”

“W…wasn’t f-fun.”

“I can imagine sweetheart…” Mina whimpers herself, hands fluttering about as she tries to identify his wounds.

But Denki is looking at him, and Sero remembers.

“You don’t have to anymore Denks, we’ll figure it out together okay.”

“S-s-she’s an-n-n a-ass-s-s.”

“Yeah, but we won't let her get away with it.”

“P-p-parents go-gonna b-be so m-m-mad.”

“She nearly killed you! I’d hope they’d be mad.” Kirishima cuts in, joining them with that matching worried look.

“A-a-at m-m-me.”

“I’ll kill them too if I have to.” Bakugo growls, face darkening more as he takes in Denki’s form, “Shit, we need to get him out of here. I’m making an exit.”

“We’ll worry about all of that Denki, you just focus on staying awake.”

“K-kay…”

“Found them!”

“..ets get 'em out of here!”

“...urry up…go…now!”

Beep. Beep. Beep

[tooweirdforyou]

The OP Boys & Their Personal Dirty Secrets pt. 2

A/N : Hey hun! I hope you like this! ( i can’t tag you idk why ) I saw you wanted a part two to this and decided to do it because it was fun. I guess, lol. anyways hope you like this! :>

Soooo, don’t judge the gif I couldn’t find anything else. Also I’m kinda tired ;-; alsooo. these ones are a LITTLE bit dirtier.

Warning : NSFW AHEAD! PROCEED WITH CAUTION! ⚠️ ESPECIALLY W/ THATCH.

kid and mihawk don’t have specific dark secrets since I couldn’t think of anything that would yk connect to them. ;-;

Summary : All of these boys and their personal, hidden dirty secrets. PART TWO!

-

Doflamingo

Oh boy, this male, despite his possessiveness, has a bit of a voyeurism kink. He hasn’t yet, but he DEFINITELY wants to turn on the country wide announcement, ( like those screens whatever used in Dressrosa when he talked ) and just fuck you as everyone watches throughout the island. He dreams of it, and one day, HE WILL make it a reality.

“How does it feel?” The lick of his lips and the shit-eating grin was on display all over the island for the people of Dressrosa to see, the image of Doflamingo’s hips thrusting and making contact with your rear.

“Does it feel good to have the whole island watching you being fucked senseless, by me? Their king?”

You couldn’t respond, lost in the insane amount of pleasure that ran through your body, specifically your lower regions. You didn’t even care that you were being watched, basking in the euphoria you were given at the moment.

Doffy’s strings suspended you partially in air, the material binding your body so you couldn’t move in the slightest as he took you from behind.

Arms wrapped around your bare figure, one holding you thigh tightly while the other wrapped around your torso, his hand grasping your throat and his fingers, pressing itself onto the flesh of your neck.

If you were fortunate, your face was cut off from the screen to be visible but your exposed body was seen by everyone who watched.

Doflamingo felt glory and power, as he continued to fuck you for all to see, your sweet, melodic moans echoing through the island as he did this.

What a fantasy that will soon become a reality.

-

Kid

Literally anything but also nothing. I couldn’t think of anything.. so here’s a kink he has! Dominant Submission. (?) basically, he LOVES the submissive ones, but those who really fight back. Feisty bitches yk? But like, he knows you’re all talk because he’ll have you begging for him on your knees once the two of you really get started. ;)

You’re teasing the hell out of Kid. You’re being bad by ignoring Kid and disobeying his orders and the Captain has had enough.

He barges into your room, slamming the door shut with the lock clicking on and before you could react, he has his hand around your throat and your back shoved to the wall.

“You think you’re being funny?” He growls into your ear, instantly using his free hand to rip your clothes off in a swift pull.

Despite the lack of air you had, your face still formed a sly and cheeky smirk in response. “I..I think it’s.. hilarious. Ha.”

Kid scowls before slowly smirking himself and tightened his grip on your neck a little bit more, but not enough to actually kill you. ( he cares after all :> )

“Tch. Looks like you need a punishment.” He drags you over to your bed and shoves you roughly done onto him, unbuckling his pants and pulled the belt out from the loops and pressed the two ends together so he had an able whipping belt. ( make sense? )

You merely grin at this and tilt your head. “Oh? Is that for me?” You hum and sat up, legs up and spread for him to see your already getting wet pussy, arms over you knees.

The sight of it made Kid growl lowly before he walks closer to you. “Time for you to face the consequences of pissing me off.”

With one hand, he forces you down onto the bed, breasts against the mattress and your ass forcefully in the air.

And with the raise of his other hand, it was only seconds before a loud whip was heard.

Tears stings the corner of your eyes but you still held strong, biting your lip. “Is that all you got? Guess you weren’t so angry.” You laugh and Kid didn’t respond, only whipping you once more, a little more force.

“Don’t you worry. I have all night long.”

[ I could write a whole OneShot about this, I had to stop lol ]

-

Marco

Little bit harder, buttt, come on. Sex in the air? Marco’s dream, for sure. And if he’s going to admit it, yes, he has done sexual activities in the air, where no one would be around.

The blonde doctor soars across the sky, a little ways away from the ship, not too far to lose sight but enough where he wouldn’t be seen, regardless of it being the time of night.

He’s only ever done it once or twice, but the no matter how many times Marco would do it again afterwards, the first time experience couldn’t ever be bested.

Sexual activities in the air.

Yet, that didn’t mean Marco didn’t love the thrill and excitement it brought him, especially when he did it so often in his younger days.

Extending his bright cyan blue wings out and around him, Marco palms himself through his pants, shutting his eyes before slightly lowering his pants enough to release his cock into the exposed cold air.

Marco shivers before reeling back and moving so he was laying down, his wings as support. One left propped up and his fingers wrapped itself around his shaft, his touch slow.

With nothing but the moon lighting down on him and the refreshing night breeze in the midnight sky, Marco felt at ease as he continues to rub his length in a teasingly slow motion, only increasing in speed seconds after.

Marco won’t lie, when it came to his release, he often did it into his hands and a bit dripping down onto his hips and chest,

but it felt good letting his cum spurt into the ocean.

-

Thatch

It’s pretty known that Thatch is a real perv with large sexual desires. ( at least to me because of @ honeybakedthatch lol ) however, this personal secret is his dirtiest one yet.

Thatch bit his lip as he grunted out a soft groan, feeling the rest of his warm, bitter cum shooting out from his tip and into the leftover mixture of cream and condensed milk he made for the cinnamon buns.

Pulling his pants up and zipping it tight, Thatch made sure to thoroughly mix the cum and mixture together with a plastic spoon before drizzling it over the cinnamon buns he left out just for you.

The plastered grin Thatch wore merely widens as he watched the ordinary looking cinnamon buns look identical to the others, but he knew the pleasant surprise in taste that differed.

Just as he finished drizzling the cream, the door opened, you having walked in. “Thatch, I smell something good! What is it?”

The cheery, innocent smile you had made Thatch smirk a bit, the imagination all too pleasant, the thought of you eating his delicious cinnamon buns.

“I made cinnamon buns. Here, I made these especially for you.” Thatch holds out the separate plate he had and walks closer to you, placing a sweet kiss on your temple before letting you take the plate and fork.

“Enjoy. If it’s a bit too bitter, let me know and I’ll.. sweeten it up for you.”

-

Mihawk

This stoic ass man is such an intimate, romanticist, he doesn’t quite have very dirty secrets.. but, one kink he secretly has is bondage and slight corruption. He won’t ever mention it but if you bring it up, he’ll voice his opinions on it.

“Now, now, love. You should be careful.”

Mihawk’s strict but amused tone was evident as he sat in his chair and watched you writhe in the tight black silk ribbons that bounded you on the ground.

Your arms were tied behind your back, your vision blocked by a silk blindfold and your legs were forced spread by a ankle bar, exposing your bare heat towards Mihawk.

You were leaning against a table/chair, and the only thing you could hear were Mihawk’s praises and warnings, along with the humming vibration that came from the vibrator strapped to your clit.

“You might loosen the binds, and you know you don’t want that, do you?” Mihawk sternly questions and you shook your head, biting your lip to prevent yourself from moaning out too loud.

“Oh? You aren’t responding?” Mihawk smiles slightly as he leans on his hand, elbow on the armrest of his chair. “I asked you a question.”

You gasp out in realization and stammered out, trying to close your legs from the shock and orgasm you keep receiving.

“I-I mean no.. h-hah.. ah.. I, I don’t want it to loosen.” Your blush darkens at the embarrassment you held, but you loved this, just as much as Mihawk did.

-

Shanks

I could come up with a bunch of things but the first thing my mind went to was — sex tapes. Shanks is all for EVERYTHING but I feel like sex tapes seal the deal. Especially since he hooks up with so many women, I’m sure.

Shanks watches as the woman below him arches her back and curls her toes in pure bliss and euphoria.

The loud moans escaping her lips and filling the motel rooms only edged him further.

His tight grip on the woman’s left thigh glides up to grab the soft mound flesh on her left, his fingers twisting the little perky bud as he thrusted his hips roughly into her, eliciting a louder pleasurable cry.

The sound of skin slapping was the only thing heard other than the heavy grunts of Shanks and the mewls of the woman being fucked into oblivion.

Shanks, despite having the time of his life and was nearing his climax as he continued to thrust into the two small and tight lips, it’s walls clenching around him, could only think about the recording camera on its designated position on top of the drawer.

As much as he loved the real experience at the current moment, he couldn’t wait to rewatch the recording of it and relive the experience that way.

-

A/N: here you go, hun! I know you wanted a part 2 with these characters and I hope this went out you expected and wanted! :>

A few don’t have proper endings but it’s gooddd enoughhh for me. :p

jus wondering, what do y’all think Kid has? Master, sir, daddy or captain kink? Or none and just his name?

Law def has a “doc/doctor” kink lol but since I’m at it, I don’t think Marco has that.

[bakatenshii]

Rapture

Oikawa Tooru x Reader (Haikyuu!!)

word count: 2.8k

TW: 18+, smut, incest, dub/noncon, mild somnophilia

A/N: I started writing this in my notes bcos I wanted to get out a cheeky Oikawa drabble for his birthday, didn’t wanna commit to a proper fic bcos fuck knows I’ve been writing my first ever fic for over a month. Technically this is my first official fic I finished! So much love for my wife @blahkugo for listening to me sob and whine about this & beta-ing it, also to @lookslikeleese who created this brainchild of Tooru-nii with me. 

rap·ture

/ˈrapCHər/

a feeling of intense pleasure or joy.

(according to some millerian teaching) the transporting of believers to heaven at the Second Coming of Christ

Blood is thicker than water, in all forms and shapes and sizes. The guilt of blood lays thicker, sweaty and clammy, threatening to matte his perfectly coiffed hair. The guilt lies limp on his childhood bed, delicate legs dangling just a hair away from toeing the carpet.

You couldn’t reach when you were younger, he’d always help you down with all the gentleness of a protective mother and its cub. Long slender fingers tucking under your armpits to lift you from his stiff mattress to stand you on the soft carpeting.

Guilt, in the form of his baby sister laying vulnerability-up, presenting to him in taunt, as if it’s a gift from Satan himself. You won’t know, will never know, It promises. You’re out cold, too many cups of trashy house-party drinks in, your night was bound to end up like this one way or another— exposed and defenseless in a man’s bed. You should be lucky it’s your own big brother’s.

He curses himself for still having been awake when you called him at half four in the morning, curses himself for staying up studying tapes of his opposing team. Bad habits die hard. You were loopy, slurring your words, and all he could hear were the warm familiar sound of ‘niichan, niichan’ tinkling through the static. He had the keys clanking in his hands before he even registered the other voices across the line; deep, low, predatory— of men.

The drive there felt like a blur, tunnel visioning only on the number plate you’d sloppily sent him three times, each varying in one digit. It wasn’t even the right address, it didn’t match your location on his phone.

He saw crowds, loud bass reverberating through to his sleek car that stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the sea of beat-up sedans and trucks. He saw limbs, too many limbs, entangling together in a frenzy of sweat and lust; limbs on curves and humps of silhouettes, limbs on your small frame leaning into the corner of the dimly lit room. Then he saw red.

He couldn’t hear the shouts and hollers of his name, crazed fangirls pawing at him for an autograph, a picture, any type of affection from The Oikawa Tooru himself, international volleyball superstar with too many sponsorships under his belt. He reached out an arm towards you, and you clung to him like a magnetic pull, whole body suctioning onto his and tittering out a string of ‘niichan came to pick me up’ and a fit of giggles.

His first conscious breath was taken once he got you in his car. He didn’t want to look at you, didn’t want to assess the damages lest he drove his car straight into the dastardly party if he saw any hint of protrusion. He didn’t; you were fine. You seemed fine, too. You were all-too happy to see him, bragged to him ‘I bet them that you would come pick me up if I called you.’

You told him you missed him, ‘missed niichan so much, he never even bothered to call when he came back to Japan’. Tooru sighed, half part relief, half part guilt. He told you he couldn’t bring you back to his hotel, had to bring you home, because imagine the scandal if he got papped.

It was a lie, he couldn’t give a damn if he got papped, he could easily have explained that it was his own sister; he couldn’t give himself up to the safety of his own enclosed room. His room with no security net of Mum and Dad threatening to barge in, his room where he was free to do whatever he wanted.

He drove you home.

You begged him to pick you up and carry you upstairs, because your feet hurt, they’re so sore from dancing all night. He complied, using all his decade-molded muscles to pull you into his chest and his heart sank to his gut at the realization that you weighed like nothing to him; just like you had when you were younger.

You were bigger now, grown, an adult, but he had grown all the same. It was like a cruel joke— no matter how much you grew, he’d parallel your growth so he would always be just that much stronger than you, that much bigger. The perfect size to protect you. The perfect size to hurt you.

He was directed to his own room rather than yours, with the excuse that yours was too close to the master bedroom, too risky to wake your parents up. His feet moved before his mind could stop him, muscle memory bringing him to the space he’s barely stepped foot in since he was eighteen.

It was too familiar, whole body transcending back to his childhood, back to the innocence of your relationship before he’s tainted it with his twisted perversions. His arms laid you down on his bed, hands finding the straps of your heels to pick off before you thumped back onto his bed, sprawled out and fast asleep.

He’s been staring at your vulnerable placid silhouette splayed on his bed for what feels like minutes, hours. He can’t bring himself to tuck you in, can’t trust his limbs to function how he instructs them to. His skin crawls at the gust of wind kissing the sweat embalming his body, but he doesn’t let himself strip off the suffocating layers. He wants to bask in the physical manifestation of his disgust, nausea, let it remind him of his twisted perversions he can never, ever indulge in.

You shiver, and he jumps. Your tiny body is quivering in chills, begging him to warm it up. He moves with the grace and caution of a robber on the prowl for an expensive jewel, gently snaking his arms under the crook of your knee and top of your spine, lifting you up and away from him like he’s terrified— disgusted, by you.

He lifts the covers and daintily drapes it over the small rise and fall of your chest, pinching the top with only two fingers. A deep breath, a moan, a soft ‘niichan’, and he thinks his heart has stopped completely.

He’s frozen, the hammering in his chest arguing that no, he’s still very much alive, and spares a glance down at you. Your eyelids are fluttering, lips softly pouting, and unmistakably still asleep. He’s mid sigh of relief when he feels a small hand wrap around his arm, and for the second time that night he thinks he’s died.

All the gravity weighing him down disappears as he lets himself be tugged down onto the bed, the weight of his body crushing your tiny one, but he can’t bring himself to move. He’s too scared, he’s horrified.

He can feel two dainty arms loop around his neck and cage his head into the side of your face. He can feel the palpitations in his chest, heart hammering straight into yours, tangling with your soft cadenced beats, reaching in and provoking it to waltz to the same fatal rhythm. He can feel his trousers strain and his blood run cold.

Deep breaths to the count of the tick and tocking of the clock on the wall. He feels blurry, vision blotchy, skin prickling with every flood of blood traveling south. He wills it to stop, begs for it to spare him, he’ll behave, he’ll never let his mind wonder to you ever again, he promises.

God is all merciful, but God has long given up on him. Satan wants to watch his world burn, collapse, and dance in the ashes of his crumbling dignity. It teases him with the hilt of your soft body moving to press into his, crawling into his arms caging you in, willfully entering the den holding a ravenous lion fighting its own fangs.

Your eyes flutter open, gaze finding his with striking precision, and smile. It’s the same smile you’ve given him his whole life, the trust and love carved into every quirk of the lip. It shatters his dignity, stomps on it with childish fervor, and Tooru chokes on the breath coming out.

He feels you nuzzling closer, can feel your hair tickling his chin, and prays for forgiveness to any God willing to listen. None do— he’s too far gone. His hand’s reaching to cradle the back of your head as he plants the softest kiss on your cheek with all the practiced grace of a man begging for salvation.

Your eyes stare straight into his with undeterred conviction, glazed over with equal parts alcoholic daze and pure, unadulterated adoration. There’s not enough oxygen traveling to his brain to justify his actions, no amount of repentance would excuse his sins. His lips press into yours, so gently it feels like a mere ghost of breath, quivering in prayers for forgiveness.

A shift; small warm body squirming under his arms, shuffling closer. It catches the tent between his legs, and his whole body twitches like it’s been stung. He barely chokes down the whimper that threatens to come out.

He can feel your hands locking behind his hair, pulling your body infinitely closer to his, smushing your soft tits into his hard chest as he feels the breath sucked out of him by the Devil himself. There’s no more feigned chastity, all abstinence launched aside as he feels a little tongue prod at his lips. They open to let yours in, sucking on it as if it’ll bring his very breath back.

He doesn’t let himself wonder if it’s okay, he knows it’s not; it’s wrong, so wrong, on so many levels. He’s given up trying to please a Holy deity, Satan can take him whole if it means he can ravish in his sick twisted fantasies. He slots a leg between yours, letting the two pairs tangle and waltz to the symphony of your matching heartbeats, finally synching in a virulent tempo.

Breaths turn to pants, turn to unmistakable moans, and Tooru has to pull back to clamp a hand over your mouth in warning. The imagery of his long slender fingers covering more than half your face sends jolts down his body at the same time he realizes it’s him whining out so desperately.

He looks back at your face, beady, glassy, needy eyes peering back at him in sheer devotion, and he shuts his eyes in pure agony as his heart clenches in pangs of guilt, while his adulterous cock twitches in revelation. The warm soft breaths fan his palm, lips puckering underneath to peck softly at his fingers in hopes of escape; he thinks he might cum untouched.

His hand yanks back in shock, in horror, in disgust. But your hands clasped firmly behind hair pulls him back in, and he whispers out a prayer before a soft, “We can’t.” His eyes bore into yours, begging for mercy, begging you to let him go so he can suffer for his sins.

You don’t respond, not immediately. He feels his face pulled into yours and a distinct moisture building up on his thigh wedged between your much smaller legs. Wet— the suction on his tongue, the grinding on his leg, everything’s wet, and damp, and he thinks his mind might be drowning.

He can hear whines, pitched in desperation, and he’s certain they’re from you this time. His arm moves to grip at your hips, cupping your supple mound to shift it up the sheets and press your cunny against his straining erection. His hips buck on instinct, grazing the drooling slit covered only by a thin piece of cotton.

His mind goes blank, vision patching, and it’s too fast, too much, “please, Tooru-nii”— he’s crying. There’s tears stinging the corners of his eyes while he chokes out a string of ‘no, no, no’. He can’t slow the erratic humps against his lil sister’s cunt, the fingers digging into your hips marking you with patches of blooming purple and green, ‘I love you, niichan’.

It’s a knee-jerk reaction; he yanks his body back, takes sharp inhales of breath, until he can open his eyes to look at you again. Panic and nausea coat his tongue where it once tasted like you, but he’s met with the same look of pure adoration you gave him before he tainted your body with sin.

He realizes your hands are still straining to reach the back of his neck where they were before he wrenched his body away. They’re laying gently on his shoulders, twirling lazily at the strands of his hair curling around the base. Tears are flowing down his cheeks, or maybe it’s one single continuous tear, and his body is wracked with guilty desperation.

There’s no malice in your expression, no accusatory anger, and most of all, no disgust. Your face is painted with bliss, and joy, and love— Tooru snaps.

He’s pushing your shoulders back until they meet his singular pillow, and crawls down to nest in the space between your thighs. Large palms hook under your knees and push back until they touch your shoulders, and he moans when he sees your arms reach out to hook them in place obediently.

He wants to cherish this moment, burn the image into his brain for years to come, however many he’s spared, but his loins burn with years of yearning. He grants himself one glance at your tiny frame spread open for him, revels in the sheer devotion in your eyes, and plunges his face into the drenched cotton covering your core.

You moan out his name in a wanton reaction as he inhales your sweet toxins like he’s trying to drown— he is, he has no reason to live past this moment he sins, no right to live as he indulges in his sick perversions.

He can feel each shake and tremor of your thighs above his head as he sucks and licks at the soaked cotton, rendered nothing but an useless scrap now. Each suck is paired with a deep whine, echoing through his now-barren room. With one swift move he pulls off your panties and let it dangle between your ankles hanging above your bodies. Slick lines drip from the wet rag, stretching to connect back to your drooling pussy.

Five seconds— that’s how long he allows himself to marvel at your leaking slit, lips pink and puckered around the clenching hole. His cockhead drenches through his pants, so painfully hard a soft breath could send him tumbling over.

But he doesn’t allow himself to touch it, it’s not about him; it’s about you. Your devotion, mercy— your sheer, unadulterated, unwavering love for him. It’s about you; you deserve the best, you deserve it all, you deserve someone that’s not him.

He licks up, tongue flat, and slowly follows the dip between your folds until he suctions onto your swollen bud. His lips give it a soft peck, before wrapping around it and enclosing it in the hot heat of his mouth.

He has half a mind to snake his hand up to clamp over your mouth, stop the loud moans and sobs from coming out, but each wail shoots jolts of arousal straight to his leaking dick; he can’t bring himself to shut it down, despite how good you look with his long fingers wrapped around your face.

With every long lap, he pulls more cries out of you, and by the time he prods his tongue into your needy hole, you’re clenching down on him, sucking back on the muscle. You’re close, he can feel it. His tongue fucks into you without any of the mercy you’ve graced him, hips rutting into the bedsheet in tangent to your growing squeals.

The palpitations hammering in his heart synchronizes with the pulse of your cunt, weaving into a fatal rondo before everything stops; his hips, your cries, the air closes in on your writhing bodies as he paints his pants in shame and sin.

He allows his peripherals to roam your body; thighs indented with tiny crescents by your dainty fingers, mouth agape with your cute pink tongue lolling out— he swallows down his guilt, letting it scorch his insides before coating his cock threatening to twitch back to life.

He watches your hands drop down from their determined grip, thumping lightly as they hit his bed. He gingerly folds your legs back onto the flat surface before dipping down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. He can feel your arms shake in attempt to reach out and cuddle him in, but give out to fatigue.

Your eyes flutter closed, lips molding back to that soft smile ever-present in his presence, and he thinks he hears a faint whisper of, ‘I love you, Tooru-nii.’

Placid, limp, he watches as your body loses energy and drains into the mattress below. It slaps him in the face, presents him with a trophy, a golden star stamped with a big fat ‘Sin’ calligraphed on. His world collapses around him, buries him in the debris of his crumbled dignity, and the Devil dances.

[kybee1497]

"I know we don't know each other but I really need you to pretend to know me right now, I can explain later" for the sentence fic starter please :))

Hi anon!! This actually sparked an idea for a the Gallagher girls au that I’ve had in mind for a while, and I got some work on that fic done so thank you! Here’s a snippet. :)

"I know we don't know each other but I really need you to pretend to know me right now, I can explain later" Julie rushed out all in one breath, finally looking up at the guy standing in front of her.

Oh shit, he was cute. Of course she’d known he was cute. Just like she’d known the watch on his left wrist read one thirty-three which was three minutes and twenty seven seconds behind. Like she’d clocked the small stain on the hem of his cut off white shirt. The worn vans that were half a size too big, and the left jean pocket that had a faded rectangle in the shape of the wallet that poked slightly out of the right pocket as he’d walked his tray to the trash can, emptying it and turning back towards the small table and waiting book before Julie he appeared in front of him.

She wasn’t a fucking amateur, she’d carefully filed away all the important information the second she saw him, but she hadn’t realized just how cute he was until she was less than six inches away and looking up into laughing hazel eyes.

She took him in quickly, partly because her training demanded it and partly because she simply wanted to look.

Messy brown hair flopped over his forehead in a way that would make her mom sigh and reach for the scissors, but made Julie want to bury her hands in it, to run her fingers through the strands and see if they were as soft as they looked.

He was blessed with a strong jawline, bold nose, and suspiciously clear skin for a teenage boy. His cheeks were rosy in a way that suggested he’d just come in from the crisp outside air, and he was smiling down at her in amusement.

Reaching out, he wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her closer, closing the last few inches between them until she was pressed up against him, their chests brushing together with every breath. “Sure thing, babe.”

It was only Julie’s rigid self control that kept the blush off her cheeks at the sudden close proximity, even as she frowned at the pet name. “Babe?” she questioned.

“Yeah, babe. You need a cover, right? Go big or go home and all that.” He grinned again, lips tugging up in a crooked smile that would make him appear younger if it weren’t for the knowing glint in his eyes.

He was capital T Trouble, wrapped up in firmly muscled packaging with a bright yellow caution tape bow on top. Julie was undoubtedly in over her head, but Julie was also smart, she was level-headed and quick on her feet. She spoke twelve languages and had actually knocked the wind out of Coach Kelly in hand to hand yesterday. She was Julie Molina, the ‘Wrecking Ball’ of The Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women. She knew how to handle trouble.

[multifandom413]

miscellaneous dsmpstuck thoughts, if I can stop having headaches I might make a more organized post or two about it later but probably hopefully maybe not

I may actually just update this post with more incoherent ramblings as I think of stuff

dsmpstuck eggpire arc

earth c but not post-canon compliant

Rustblood BBH lives in carapice kingdom so his friends assume he's a chess piece guy, meanwhile secretly a carapice dude but dresses like a lime troll Dream lives in troll kingdom and people assume he's this big deal troll guy

Dream makes his own lil micronation and fast forward to when bbh finds a huge egg in an underground cavern beneath the greater dream smp. Bbh, who has heard of a little bit of troll culture but had no direct access to it growing up, assumes giant egg underground = mothergrub egg, decides to take care of it.

It is not a mothergrub egg. It is a horrorterror egg.

Earth C trolls have not been exposed to horror terrors, bbh didn't grow up with the stories and don't know about the nightmares and the whispering.

Bbh becomes infected with grimdark, he coaxes people to come to the egg in hopes of spreading the grimdark.

Antfrost is a descendant of Jasperose. His sprite inheritance makes him more susceptible to hearing the whispers, he goes grimdark as well.

Puffy is... a human? Would humans have a little more immunity, idk

Skeppy is also human but still goes grimdark trying to cure the others' grimdark

Techno is a goldblood, but his intrusive thoughts still drown out the egg, but also his history knowledge lets him know not to trust spooky monster voices, he's probably the only one on the greater dream smp who knows the history of horrorterrors and other troll stuff

sbi-stuck

human Tommy and carapice wilbur fighting over something troll techno started, troll techno is like "okay I'm getting crow dad"

(carapice wilbur is because of how people like to woobify the chess dudes (ie ghostbur) but also they can be pretty dangerous (bec noir and mail carrier lady) but generally wilbur kinda falls somewhere in the middle (a la that funky little dude wrapped up in caution tape))

anyway Tommy and wil chase techno into idk a cave or something and there's all these crows inside, techno runs up to a huge white crow lusus and Tommy and will are arguing as they run up

the huge crow lusus turns but it's actually a white statue chair thing and cherub Kristin is sitting there, tommy runs up like "kristin, they're bullying me", wilbur's just like EXCUSE ME, and as they're bickering techno looks back at the door like "hey Phil", and Phil is actually a descendant of davesprite (crowfather nickname is because crow wings)

SMPEarth sbi could be like... dancestors of dsmp sbi

osmp could be dancestors also??? one smp would be pre scratch descendant, one would be post scratch ancestor, then dsmp probably would be the. the uh. beta group ?

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Cerulean ranboo brainrot but also his red/green thing. Cherub. Cherub ranboo that cosplays as a cerulean as part of his whole wearing mask/shades thing

dsmp ranboo is one of the personalities, osmp ranboo is the other one

I also think cherub sam would be fun, the warden would just be a way too serious robot that sam nook built, and then sam bucket would. would be the other sam. Although the implications of sam bucket going around harassing rust bbh with buckets- Uh- That's cursed, that's really cursed, maybe sam bucket shouldn't be in this au- but also

Actually bbh's drunk fish in a bucket song would also be super cursed in this au rip lmfaooooo

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mccstuck, specifically mcc14, again bbh grew up in carapice kingdom, everybody thinks he's a lil pathetic chess piece guy (re: people woobify the chess piece dudes) anyway nobody has high hopes for the team with newbies bbh and skeppy especially with one of them being a chess piece dude but then he shows up and SUPRISE, TALL RUSTBLOOD ACTUALLY, still does the whole #NotLast thing though