#but it's gotta hurt for sure c'mon

[hotchocolatelovesyou]

Shipwrecked is low-key one of the best smutty books that they have published, but NOT because of the smut

[your-internet-bf]

Awww, c'mon, man, you can tell me how big it is. Cmonnnnn, I'm curious! You're a good lookin guy, I'm sure you're packin some heat down there, right?

What's that? You don't... huh? What do you mean? Here, just let me...

Don't moan, man, don't gotta make this weird... Well damn. No, no, I'm not disappointed at all, it's just... Here. Feel this.

No, shh, just feel. When you reach between a man's legs, you should feel something like this. Yeah, there's a lot there haha, maybe not something quite like this... What's that? Can you see it? That's a little gay, dude... Naw, I'm joking. Here.

Ahaha, you should see your face, man. What, you thought just because it was that big it had to be hard already? Naww, look, you're cute and all but it takes a little more than - ohhh, shit. No, you're right, your hands probably won't fit. Yeah. Why don't you...

Ahhh, fuck. Quick to get on your knees, and christ, that feels good... Yeah, fuck, use your... Ugh, christ, I know you're choking, I'm just gonna use your throat for a minute. You look so fucking hot down there... C'mon, c'mon... Aha. A little too big for your throat, huh? That's alright. Lick your spit up off my cock, I've got something else for you to try.

Jesus, I can see how soaked you are through your clothes. Take those off, lemme get a look at you. God, you've got a great ass, you know that? Spread that shit for me, let me look... God, dude, you look tight. Let me just feel around here... Yeah, shit, can you spread a little more? I wanna really get a good look. Yeahhh, that's good, right there. Yeah, I'm gonna - aha, that was a cute sound. What happens if I - ahaaaa. That wasn't very manly of you. Okay, okay... On the bed.

Spread your fuckin legs, what do you think I'm about to do? No use in being shy now, I JUST felt how fuckin wet you are. If you're not gonna do it, I'm gonna have to make you... Yeah, alright, I've waited long enough. Oh don't gimme that, I know you want it. Look, when I lay it on your tummy... Almost to your belly button. Beg me to put it in. Yeah, man, seriously. Beg me for it. Like a slut. Use your big boy words and fucking beg me to take this fat fucking cock of mine and pound your cunt.

See, was that so hard? Good boy. Now, grab onto something, cuz this is gonna hurt.

[eph3merall]

dealer!chris n innocent!bff!reader who eventually have sex ...

☆ . . . chris is so so sweet <3 gently coaxes you into believing that it's okay. that it wont ruin your guys' friendship at all, even though he knows once he hits he'll want to come right back. he'll be damned if he lets his best friend go fuck some other guy.

☆ . . . chris ends up taking your virginity when hes high. you were slightly tipsy from a few drinks, crawling all over his lap and giggling like some puppy. he couldn't exactly help the hard-on he got, y'know? hes a man. you couldnt blame him.

☆ . . . the two of you were just talking, truthfully. after chris had finally managed to get you to loosen up a little you were so smiley and squirmy, accidentally rubbing against his cock without even realizing. tipsy giggles left your lips every second he said something, his mind feeling all fuzzy and not quite there.

☆ . . . the topic of sex came up. chris isnt sure how, or why. "you've never been fucked?" "no..? s'that a problem?." "no, no.. jus', you're missin' out." chris is chuckling and staring at you like he wants to devour you, and you completely miss it. "m'parents always told me to wait until marriage" and he nearly starts cooing at you with how adorable you sound, tugging you closer as his hands cup your cheeks.

☆ . . . fast forward and he's lazily grinding up against you with his hands planted firmly on your hips to help you roll them against his clothed dick. "ohh, i know.. feels good? huh?" the prettiest little whines are sounding from your lips that have been bitten raw, eyes glancing down to where you repeatedly hump against your best friend. "chris..." his name sounds so good in that whiny tone, said in a low mewl as you grasp at his shoulders.

☆ . . . you dont know fully why you feel like this, all hot and eager for chris to continue helping you rut against him. then again, it isn't all sunshines and rainbows for him either. chris is fighting back the urge to bust in his pants, holding you close and letting your body move slowly on its own.

☆ . . . soon enough, he's breathing heavy as his cock strains against his jeans. staring at your nervous face as you tug your panties down and he has to stop himself from grabbing you and sitting you down on his dick until his tip hits your cervix. he knows it'll hurt. and chris just happens to be so kind to his best friend, he's letting you sit down in his lap with both of your legs thrown across his.

☆ . . . your head leans back, his chin resting on top of your head as he sinks his middle finger into your cunt. "fuck, oh.. look at you. s'cute, baby" "chris.." you just sound so pathetic to him, as he hushed you gently. his other hand is wrapped around your stomach, holding you close and keeping your thrashing to a minimum.

☆ . . . your gasp turns into a moan when chris eases another finger in, the squelching sound of your own cunt echoing in your ears—making heat spread up your neck to your face. it just feels so... weird. your hips twitched gently and yoh didn't miss the chuckle that sounded from your best friends mouth, his free hand sliding up gently to squeeze at your tits.

☆ . . . when you start shifting around more and your hand grabs at chris' wrist to try and slow the sensations down, he knows you're close. a soft hush comes from him as he continues with his ministrations, ignoring the way you whine and cry about how you feel weird. "jus' let it happen. s'not a bad thing, baby.. c'mon, cum for me. theere you go" the wave of pleasure that washes over you is almost heavenly, your body tensing then going slack a few seconds after, lips parted in heavy gasps of air.

☆ . . . you think you would be done honestly, until chris is tapping the side of your hip with two of his fingers. "up, c'mon. gotta help me now" and when you shakily lift yourself up from his lap, you hear the sound of a belt buckle and fabric being slid off skin. chris' hands are looping around your stomach gently to pull you back—ordering you gently to close your eyes. "trust me, i got you. you trust me, right?"

☆ . . . of course you trust chris.. which is why your eyes fall shut—letting the brunette pull you back and sink you down slowly onto his dick. except your eyes fly open the second his tip is nudging into your entrance, a shaky gasp falling from you as your hands grip at his wrists. "chris.. that—that hurts, y'know." except he ignores you, clicking his tongue in his mouth and slowly sinking you down further. maybe he should've stretched you out a little more, but god, he was so hard to the point it hurt.

☆ . . . once chris is fully sheathed inside you, he lets you adjust for as long as you need. he knows he's big, and he knows you've never had sex. you were gulping in big gasps of air like you were dying, even though it was fine... chris' hands rub comfortingly up and down your sides, rolling his eyes at how dramatic you were. "s'kay kid.. stop doin' that," "no, i feel full..."

☆ . . . when chris was finally able to move without you throwing a fit over how much it hurt or something, he's thrusting up gently and cursing under his breath. you've turned around just so you could hide your head in his shoulder if needed, and you do—burying your head into the crook of his neck and letting his hair tickle your skin.

☆ . . . chris isn't sure how long it's been but when you squeeze around him he knows you're cumming without you having to say it, and he almost busts his own load right then and there. biting down on his lower lip, he urges you off him when he's sure your orgasm had washed over you—shoving your shoulders down to get you on your knees between his legs.

☆ . . . chris knows you aren't on birth control or anything, so he opts for a quick lesson teaching you how to bob your head up and down his length until he cums over your pretty lil' face. surprisingly, for someone who's never sucked dick before, you were damn good at it. fitting whatever you could in your mouth and then wrapping your hands around whatever else was left, just like chris had told you.

☆ . . . he isn't the best at aftercare. you guys took a shower and he seemed so awkward, because normally the girl he just banged would be out the door in a few minutes. but you're his best friend, so he just pats the bed and you two watch a movie or something. cuddling always felt too intimate for him, never been one to initiate it or entertain it.

☆ . . . you don't complain much. sure, it would've been nice. well, it would've been really nice, but you were a little too scared to ask chris to hold you like you guys were dating. were you two dating now? probably not. you've never really seen chris with the same girl for more than three days straight, and he's told you a bunch how he hates labels. huh. so why is that pit of longing still stuck in your chest?

—

ur girl wrote this with a vicious nosebleed. i lowk need to write for matt more so some stuff for him is comin soon hopefully !!! after i finish all the reqs i got tho

@conspiracy-ash @sturniolosfavkayleigh @lvrsturniolo @st7rnioioss @meatballlover10 @ashlishes @ferdzom @55sturn @chriseatingmeoutin4k @unknvhx

©eph3merall 2024

[erwinsvow]

Imagine if Rafe let R try a joint

Like, her brains getting all fuzzy and she's even more giggly than usual, and he's just, like enamoured. He thinks she's adorable.

"one hit, that's it-" rafe says, low and quiet in your ear.

you're curled up on his lap at the party, both of you resting on the couch while you observe the scene around you with big eyes. rafe's friends were snorting powder off of mirrors, washing it down with liquor that was definitely harder than the fruity seltzer your boyfriend allowed you to drink. rafe said you couldn't handle anything harder, and you agreed without questioning him, like you always did.

you had pointed to the white lines on the table infront of you and asked him as sweetly as you could if you could try some. kelce overheard you and starts pushing the mirror in your direction, and you look at him with a smile, before rafe stares him down and delivers a tap to your cheek. it's just to get your attention, not really to hurt you, but you feel your face flushing where he touched you when he speaks.

"hey, you don't listen to him, you listen to me, right?" you see kelce in the corner of your eye, taking the tray back and offering it to the girl next to him.

"i know, i just-"

"no, no just anything. y'can barely drink this watered-down crap without trippin' over your feet." he rests back on the sofa, hands gripping your waist and leg tightly. "wants to snort coke. you're funny, kid."

you pout, taking another sip of your drink. you're only half way through the can but your head is starting to feel fuzzy, already. you decide then and there that rafe always knows best for you, but you still want to try the things he tries, show him that you can handle it. the boys next to rafe pass a blunt over you, directly to him. when they blow out the smoke, you start coughing, but watch carefully as your boyfriend takes a long hit. just as he's about to pass it across to kelce, you catch his wrist.

"can i try that instead? please?" you try your best to straighten up, to show him you can take it and that you're not already drunk. "please," you whine, and his friends turn their head to look. you're sure that they think it's silly, the way you have to ask rafe for permission for everything and anything. you don't care, though.

"kid, stop-"

"i can take it, promise. just this time. i won't ever ask again."

that's how you had ended up like this, rafe talking into your ear while he holds the blunt to your lips.

"alright, suck in. long as you can. you're a pro at that, aren't ya?" his words make you lose your concentration, breaking into a coughing fit before you can even try to inhale.

"rafe!" you whine again, pummeling your fists into his chest, still choking on the smoke. your throat feels scratchy but you know that couldn't have been enough.

"what, kid, i gotta do everything for you?" he takes a long hit, and then grips your cheeks with his hand, forcing your mouth open and then blowing the smoke into your throat for you. then he clamps it shut, holds your shoulder while you cough, and passes the blunt along to kelce.

you cough a little, but before long, you're putty in his arms, leaning your head against his shoulder and giggling at nothing. you poke at his chest and then start playing with his chain, then his hair, and then back down to his fingers. he lets you do it, watching you play with his ring and pressing a kiss to your forehead. you're cute like this, he thinks, less shy and not as worried what everyone must think about you. he thinks he likes it, that maybe he should let you smoke with him every once in a while.

"feel good, baby?" he asks in your ear, and you squirm in his touch, pulling away before resting your head again.

"mhm. really good. this is fun. wish it wasn't a crime." he laughs, taking another sip of his beer. you try to copy him, reaching for your seltzer but knocking it over by accident.

"oops," you say with another laugh. "sorry to-wait, whose house is this?"

"c'mon kid, makin' a mess," he groans, picking up the can and watching the fizzy liquid travel.

"sorry, daddy." in your state, you don't realize how loud you said it, but even with everyone's eyes on you, you don't care much, smiling back sweetly at rafe.

"alright, we're leavin'."

[evie-sturns]

ignore - Matt Sturniolo

summary: you've been in a mood all day, ignoring matt and giving him little attention, you won't tell him what's wrong so he has to fuck the answers out of you.

contains: smut, arguing, crying, swearing, rough!matt, slight overstimulation.

-----------------°°••....••°°----------------

i've been pissed and emotional all day, i'm not even sure what for anymore, everything that people do is pushing me to my limits, especially my boyfriend, matt.

3:39pm

"c'mon we've gotta go." matt says, tapping my arm as i sit with my arms folded on the edge of matts bed. "i'm not going!" i raise my voice at matt, my eyebrows raised as i roll my eyes.

"chris and nick are waiting for us, we've booked the top golf session, we are going its for the celebration of nicks brand come on." matt says with a dad like tone.

i shake my head, "i don't want to, my head hurts." i say in a whiny tone, somehow on the verge of tears, matt lets out an exhausted sigh, tears start to fall down my cheek as i rub my eyes.

"why are you crying." matt says in a calm tone with a sigh. "go away!" i groan, matt walks out of the room shaking his head, he closes the door behind him.

"i don't know whats going on with her, im sorry nick." i hear him say to his brothers outside the door, i sniffle as i flop down on the bed behind me.

6:12pm

i've been enjoying the empty house by myself for the past few hours, i hear the triplets pull into the driveway before knocking on the door, i unlock the door and they all walk in, i give nick a hug, before asking chris how it went. he instantly starts to yap about his golf shots.

after a handful of minutes chris decides we should all watch a movie, matt tries saying something to me but i simply ignore him,

"y/n." matt repeats himself, i shoot him a side eye before continuing to speak to chris.

nick and chris pile onto the couch, matt sits down on the other side of the plush couch, i walk over to matt, sitting down on his lap and laying down against him, my back pressed against his torso and the back of my head resting on his shoulder.

matts chest rises and falls with each breath, lifting me up and down subtly.

9:29

the movie has been playing for over 3 hours, i've shifted around slightly against matt a couple of times, but haven't said anything to him.

i let out a heavy sigh matt taps my waist before whispering in my ear "please talk to me, you've been acting very off today."

i scoff "i've been acting off?" i whisper back, an attitude clear in my voice.

"yes you have, been acting like that, bratty." matt replies, i stay silent after that.

"talk to me about it." he says again, i shake my head no.

the closing scene of the movie finishes, chris and nick get up, "im headed to bed, see you guys in the morning." chris says with a yawn, "bye chris!" i say chirpily.

nick stands up, "see you!" he says running over and hugging me before leaving the living room.

matt and i sit in silence for a minute or so before matt pushes me off his lap, "come with me." matt says, i stare straight into his eyes, not moving nor speaking.

"come. with. me." matt raises his voice, grabbing my wrist and dragging me to his bedroom. he slams the door and locks it vigourously.

i sit down on the edge of his bed, fiddling with my nails. matt storms over to me, picking me up then throwing me back down on the bed, i fall straight on my back, my head landing in his pillows, one specific pillow having a stupid pug on it.

matt rips off his cute crewneck sweater, my eyes drawn to his tattooed arms.

his two hands firmly grip the waistband of my sweatpants, before yanking them and my panties down in one go. he unbuttons his jeans before pulling me by my ankles towards the edge of the bed.

"matt-" i start, he cuts me off, "dont start."

his boxers drop to the floor before he stands at the edge of the bed, i wrap my legs around his waist. matt stares into my eyes, asking for permission, i stay silent, just staring into his eyes.

"use your words and tell me what the fuck you want." he almost demands, his right hand now firmly gripping my waist.

i can't deny the fact i need him, the sudden switch in mood turns me on, along side matt being angry which he is never like, hes never fucked me while hes mad.

"just fuck me then if your so desperate." i mumble, matt lets out an exasperated laugh before lining himself up with me, slamming into me, his tip bruising my cervix.

i let out a yelp, "fuck!" matt starts to pound in and out of me, not showing signs of slowing down.

he grips my waist with both hands, his fingers digging into my skin as small grunts fall from matts lips.

the sounds coming out of me echo throughout the room, resulting in matt slamming a hand over my mouth, the cold metal of his rings pressing against my cheek.

"gonna act like this whole day? think you can act like that?" matt breathes out, his left hand which is still firmly placed on my waist tightens. matts breathing picks up,

im starting to consider always acting like 'this' so that matt fucks me like this again, i dont think ive ever had better sex in my life.

he repeatedly hits a spot inside of me which is driving me closer, and closer to my orgasm.

"awnser. me." matt says, staring into my squinted eyes, he removes his hand from my mouth, reaching down and brushing my clit.

"i- i didn't mean to" i say cluelessly, my mind completely fogged as i clench around him.

the pit in my stomach realeases as i orgasm, matts thrusts stop, after all this not wanting to overstimulate me.

"gonna talk to me now sweetheart?" matt says his voice soft but his breaths heavy.

i scoff with an eye roll, matt raises his eyebrows before thrusting into me again, i wince, "sensitive.." i say as matt presses on my clit, he starts to thrust again, waiting for me to speak.

i let out loud moans as matt starts to pick up his thrusts "please-" i groan, "matt-"

"i'm sorry- fuck" i say, my thighs dropping from his waist and squeezing together, matt pulls out, finishing with a whimper and painting my stomach with white streaks.

"oh my god-.." i groan, covering my forehead with my arms as i wipe away the few tears that fell from intensity.

"are you okay?" matt says, picking me up off the bed and carrying me towards the bathroom.

i hum in response, "was it too much? did i hurt you?" matt asks, worry in his voice as he places me down on the edge of his bath.

he bends down between my thighs, dabbing a towel gently against my skin. he walks out of the room, shortly coming back now wearing sweatpants and a white wifebeater tank top.

he brings me over the shorts i was wearing previously, and one of his black shirts. he pulls them onto me gently, his cold finger tips brushing against my skin.

he picks me up again, carrying me over to his bed and flicking off the overhead light, leaving his dim lamp on which illuminates the room just enough. he lays down on the bed, i lay ontop of him.

we lay in silence for about a minute before matt breaks it "are you okay? i mean you've seemed really off today and i should've talked with ya." matt says, running a hand through his hair.

"im sorry." i sigh, "no no, don't say that." matt replies instantly, "i'm not actually sure whats going on, i think i'm just a bit hungry" i say quietly,

matt laughs, "i did all of that for you to just be hungry?" he jokes, rubbing his eyes with a smile as his ears go red.

"i don't know!!" i laugh back, matt wraps his arms around my waist as i lay on top of him.

i suddenly spring up, "i'll be right back." i say, jogging out of the room towards nicks room, i knock twice before opening the door, nicks laying on the bed on his phone,

"you okay?" nick asks, i walk over to him, giving him a hug.

"im really sorry about not coming to topgolf nick, i was in a mood and i am extremely happy about your brand."

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

[dollfacefantasy]

LIGHT OF THE FULL MOON ♡

pairing: werewolf!chris redfield x fem!reader

summary: your husband hasn't been the same since coming back from his latest mission. you struggle to understand the cause, not wanting to believe the worst. on the night of a full moon, tensions peak and you're determined to find out the truth.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, dubcon, p in v, knotting, monsterfucking, predator/prey, breeding kink, size kink, dacryphilia, PTSD mention

wc: 6.5k

a/n: long awaited but i hope you guys like! happy almost halloween <33 reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated :)

kinktober slot: day 30 - monsterfucking

Your husband had been acting strange lately.

Not the typical mid-life crisis kind of strange. There was no new Ferrari parked in the garage, nor had Chris begun to dedicate his time to a niche hobby like roller skating. His behavior was much more... off-putting than those things would be. That was the only way you could think to describe it.

It all began at the beginning of this last Summer when he came home from a short mission.  The trip spanned two weeks and took him up to a sparse, expansive piece of the Canadian wilderness. You weren't especially worried about him while he was gone. You were more upset about the fact that he was going to miss your wedding anniversary than anything else.

Your lack of concern didn't come from a place of callousness. Rather the opposite. You'd been an agent too. It was how you and Chris met. Before a stray bullet to your thigh knocked you out of commission, you had field assignments of your own. You knew that they were only made more stressful when you had someone at home you know worries about you.

So you never did. You trusted that he'd come back to you in one piece like he always does.

This time he did come back in one piece. Walked through the front door like usual with his bag slung across his back and his arms ready for you. You crossed the foyer and sprung yourself against his chest, your smaller arms wrapped around his bulky abdomen.

"I missed you, baby," he murmured, pecking your temple and engulfing you with his thick arms, "My beautiful wife of... how many years is it now?"

You rolled your eyes at the joke and tapped his arm. It was when you followed him back to your bedroom to put his stuff down that your eyes widened and caught on his forearm.

"Jesus! What happened to you?" you asked and took the limb in your hands.

Just below his elbow was a sizable bite. You could tell the type of injury from the crescent pattern of the cuts. If you had to guess, you'd say it probably came from a dog, but you'd never seen a canine with a jaw so large. The wounds were deep red, scabbed over by this point. The nearby skin glowed with the color of injury. You could tell whatever had got him, sunk its teeth in deep.

He looked down at the afflicted area and then back at you before shrugging. "It's nothing. You know how it goes. Those things can be rabid, but I'll heal up in a few days."

Your pupils continued to scan his flesh uncertainly. "I guess..." you conceded.

His statement was true. That wasn't your problem. Of course, you'd seen him with bites before. You'd even been bitten yourself on the job. But it never looked like this. So... gruesome. Upon looking closer, you could see tiny sprawls of plum-tinted veins accompanied by dark patches of discolored skin.

"They treated you, right? You're sure it's not infected?" you checked again.

"Honey, it's fine. C'mon, I know you missed me, but you don't gotta freak out about this," he dismissed in kind.

Despite his claims, he let you fuss over him. You were hesitant to even touch the markings, afraid of causing him pain or irritating the skin further.

He didn't seem to be hurting though. In his recovery, he never complained of aches or stings or throbs. Never held it closer to his body than normal or relied on his left arm to perform tasks. It did eventually heal. He was left with little white patches of scar tissue, but the other array of colors faded.

The only reason you had to believe that this incident triggered his change in behavior was that he began to act differently a few weeks later. 

It started with his sleeping habits.

The Chris you knew slept the whole night through. Rested against your back, spooning you. His body heat radiated from him like a space heater for a solid eight hours every night. He'd wake up with his face nestled in the crook of your neck and plant a few kisses there before pulling away to get up and go about his morning routine.

But now he didn't even come to bed before you'd fallen asleep. His side of the mattress would be vacant when you woke up as well. At first it left you to question whether he'd been there at all. Now though, you're certain he's doing something else during the nocturnal hours. The only thing you couldn't figure out was what that other thing could be.

The next piece of this puzzle came in the way he started eating.

Since that mission, he seemed to have a craving for meat. Red meat. Burgers, steaks, whatever you had in the house. He wanted it all and in large portions. Not only that, but the way you cooked it didn't suit his tastes anymore. You sat across from him at the dinner table with wide eyes as he ate the food you'd prepared to his request. A steak so rare it looked like blood leaked from the raw slab out onto the plate.

Anytime you'd ask about any of this, he'd brush you off with a new excuse. He was just sleeping less now. He'd stayed up later playing a video game. He was waking up earlier to try a new running regime. The food thing was just something his friend told him about and he wanted to try. Supposed to build protein and lower your bmi or some bullshit.

That stuff you could have overlooked, but then he started to look different.

You wanted to blame his new diet for the sudden thickness with which his body hair grew. And perhaps his new workout schedule effected him as planned and could explain the way he was bulking up and nearly popping out of his shirts with gained muscle mass. You weren't so sure though.

If anything, you tried to pin this on your own mind. You were being paranoid. Life wasn't some horror movie. Monsters did exist, but you'd seen them already. They didn't look like this. Right?

And in his defense, not all the changes you'd noticed were bad. Your life in the bedroom had grown much more interesting since his return.

That day he came back, you figured it was his way of making up for your missed anniversary. He'd pounded into you for hours. Rutted into your poor little cunt till it was sore and puffy, struggling to take his thick shaft. What you would've believed to be an impossible amount of arousal coated your inner thighs and soaked the bed sheets beneath you by the time you were done. You knew he had stamina, but for those hours, Chris seemed like another animal entirely.

Every time since then had been similar. They didn't last as long as your reuniting session, but they were just as passionate. He was so much rougher than he'd ever been before. Typically, your husband was overly-cautious with you. Every move he made had his size and strength in mind when deciding the amount of force he'd use to manhandle your legs or snap his hips against your ass.

Now he fucked without a care in the world. His teeth scraped against your neck hard enough to mark. His fingertips left bruises accompanied by the scratches from his nails.

He also came inside you now every time without fail. Since you started taking the pill not long after the two of you started dating, that had always been his favorite place to release. But how he would do it lately... you didn't know any other word for it but primal. When he came, he buried himself inside you. Every inch of his cock filled the snug space between your walls. He growled as it shot out of him, rope after rope. He stuck to you like he wanted to make sure not a drop leaked out or went to waste.

So on that end of things, you didn't mind his shift in personality. It only became a problem when he started going out so often.

He told you a myriad of different places he went to or groups he hung out with, but you didn't believe him. You doubted Jill wanted to see him at ten p.m. on a Wednesday, and you struggled to accept Leon needed some form of help that took him eight hours of the night.

It was always dark out when he was gone, and then there would be certain days of the month that he didn't come back until well into the next morning. That was what drove you crazy. You'd never felt such distrust in your husband before. You always believed him to be faithful. You didn't worry about other women or being replaced or a number of other things your friends complained about with their spouses. You and Chris were a team.

But that vision shattered when you decided to test out the validity of his alibis one night. It hadn't been planned. You always thought loyalty tests were for insecure people, but you hoped that's all you were now. This was just a bout of insecurity, not anything to be truly worried about.

You saw Chris left his phone on the kitchen counter one night, and the idea just sprung into your head. As if the devil himself whispered the words into your ear, you typed out a message to Leon, the man he was supposedly hanging out with.

"Hey, Chris left his phone here. Will you let him know I'll just swing by to drop it off if he's gonna be with you for a while? If he'll be back soon, I can just wait. Thanks :)"

With a shaky thumb, you clicked the send button. You paced around your kitchen while waiting for the response. It didn't arrive instantly. Leon took around ten minutes to get back to you.

"Hey. Chris isn't with me tonight. I'm sorry."

Your legs came to a stop. You clutched both phones so tight that they were in danger of shattering. The ten minutes wasn't spent talking with your husband or doing whatever you thought they did together. It was probably Leon trying to decide if he should cover for him or be honest with you. At least he chose the latter.

You didn't send anything back to the D.S.O. agent. Instead, you went to bed, leaving Chris's phone on his bedside table. You curled up under your blankets. The emptiness of half the mattress caused you physical pain that night. Your eyes shut over the building gloss of tears.

That was a week ago.

Chris had still been going out every night and rotating in one of his friends' names as his unknowing accomplices.

Tonight, you decide that this is it. You're not going to be the sad little wife who's just happy she gets to keep the house while her husband goes out and plays with the other woman. You're done being fed lies and pretending you believe them. You're done being treated as disposable in your own marriage.

When he tells you he's leaving tonight, you say no. He's already been acting weird today, skittish and jumpy, constantly watching the clock. You aren't just going to sweep it under the rug this time. This conversation will get to the bottom of it.

You glare at him from where you're sitting on the couch, watching as confusion overtakes his features. Rarely are you ever firm with Chris. You know how to stand up for yourself, but he rarely gives you a reason to act any kind of strict.

"You're not leaving yet," you repeat.

His expression doesn't change. He stands at the beginning of the hallway to the front door, waiting for you to explain your sudden attitude. It's already getting late. The sky outside is pitch black except for the light of the full moon.

"Tell me where you're going," you demand.

"Out with Leon."

Your expression darkens. "Why are you lying to me?" you ask next.

He's got a phenomenal poker face because not a hint of doubt shows anywhere on his exterior. He doesn't look away, doesn't fidget. All he does is step closer to you, reentering the living room.

"Why would you think that?" he asks, voice calm.

"Because Leon told me you haven't been with him at all," you fire back and stand up. You bolster your proof with exaggeration, but you're confident enough that you're right.

Now a reaction does show on Chris. You can see his jaw clench and his gaze sharpen. This wasn't going to be as easy to talk his way out of as he thought.

"I really don't have time for this tonight," he says.

Your anger is getting ready to boil over into fury at his dismissal.

"Really? Because all I have anymore is time! You leave me here alone every single night! I feel like I barely see you anymore," you say, "I'm supposed to be your wife, but I feel like I'm the side piece at this point."

"You think I'm cheating on you?" he scoffs, disgusted by the suggestion alone.

"What else am I supposed to think?" you explode, raising your voice now, "You don't tell me anything! You just leave to who-fucking-knows where every single night and expect me to be fine with that? I'm not."

"Calm down," he says. His own voice grows firm. He glances down at the time on his watch. His pupils move quickly, looking almost antsy.

"Do you have somewhere else to be? Something more important than this conversation?" you ask incredulously.

"I told you I don't have time for this. We can talk tomorrow," he says. His words come out with more bite which just stokes the flames of your temper.

"No. You can just tell me now," you say and cross your arms, "If you leave without telling me anything, then maybe consider telling your girlfriend to prepare for you to move in with her soon!"

"Give me a fucking break! I am not cheating on you!" he snaps, letting his voice boom, "There is no girlfriend. There's no one else I'm going to!"

He looks more upset now. Some definite anxiety mixed in with his irritation. He looks like he just wants to get out. You wonder if it's the panic of you closing in on the truth or something else that's bothering him. It makes you soften your approach the smallest bit. You sigh.

"Just give me something then. Something that will give me some peace of mind," you reason. You'll accept a half answer at this point. All you want is some semblance of explanation as to why he's going out every night.

But all he does is stare at you. It brings your temper back up, the uncomfortable feeling rising between your lungs.

"Just one thing, Chris! One fucking thing."

"I can't." His voice is strained as if he's trying to keep calm.

"Why?" you ask, flinging your arms up in frustration.

"I just can't. We'll talk about it tomorrow," he says.

With that, he turns to leave. You stand there stunned. But the shock only lasts a moment.

"You're leaving because I'm right and you can't think of a lie so quick!" you shout at him.

He doesn't even look back at you. His steps thud down the hall to the exit of your home. You can't stand it. How could he do this to you? This isn't the man you married. That guy never would have treated you like this.

Before you can even think about it, you're dashing after him. As mad as you are, you can't just let him leave. You love him. Nothing in the world will hurt more than him leaving.

He's moving fast, determined to get out as swiftly as he can, but you're quick too. You'd spent years of your life chasing mutated creatures that could sprint on all fours. Catching up to your husband was nothing.

You reach out for his arm and grab him at his elbow. Your eyes widen at the intensity with which he reacts. He jerks away as if the touch burns.

"Stay away from me," he says. The words don't even sound like his voice. They come out so deep. Almost like a snarl.

Accusations of infidelity are forgotten at this point because all you can feel now is concern.

"Chris... are you alright?" you ask in a much softer voice than you'd been speaking with before.

You reach for him again, barely laying a hand on his shoulder. It's like the touch knocks him back. He nearly trips over his own feet, crashing against your front door but failing to get it open. His shoulders heave, muscles in his back convulsing. A light sheen of sweat breaks out across his forehead.

This time you figure it's best if you stay back. All you did was touch him, but he seems as if he's going to be ill. You stand a few feet away, watching him nervously. His arms come up to cover his face, which blocks your view and prevents you from guessing what's wrong.

"Honey?" you try again gently.

"Get away from me," he rasps, "Leave. Go far away before you can't."

You're back to being lost. You try to think of what this could be. Maybe PTSD? Was he having some sort of flashback? You had accidentally touched the bite.

"I'm not going to leave. You know you can trust me. I'm always here for you. I just want to understand," you coax.

"It's not you I don't trust," he says. He breaks down into a coughing fit and his back arches. It looks like he's trying to restrain himself.

"Just tell me what you need," you say quickly, determined to help him through this, "Anything. Do you need water? Do you need me to call someone?"

Truly, you're lost on possible solutions. This doesn't look like any common sickness you'd seen. It looks more like an infection someone would get in the field. And upon realizing that, panic strikes your heart.

You don't get the chance to voice any fear though because he speaks first.

"Just get out of here," he growls, "Everything you do makes it worse."

Your heart pounds in your ears. What could this be? Did he have some kind of virus and didn't tell you? Maybe his unit was treated with faulty drugs. What if he had lied about getting that bite looked at? Your mind swirls with all these thoughts, and your breathing speeds up to match their pace.

You step back a little, but you're still hesitant to go. Never leave a man behind. That'd been drilled into you since the day you enlisted. You couldn't just leave him to suffer or maybe die. Especially not this man, your man.

You're about to say something else. You take a deep breath and conjure some words of reassurance.

But it's too late.

By the time you look back at him, you see the hair on his arms coming in thicker. It sprouts out another inhumane inch. His nails rise a little bit. The panic inside you courses through your veins with more intensity.

"What's happening to you?" you choke out.

"I told you to go. I wanted to leave. But you told me to stay," he grunts, still trying to conceal his face.

You're stunned into silence, trying desperately to think of what to say. All that comes out are the same words, repeated with a deeper sense of urgency. "What's happening to you?"

He tries to respond, but a strained groan erupts from him.

His body spasms. The seams of his shirt split as his shoulders broaden and muscles puff out. You watch in horror as your husband seems to transform. And then he finally turns his face and looks into your eyes. 

It's the stare of an animal looking at you.

Your hands fly to your mouth to muffle a cry you let out. For years, you thought you escaped your time as an agent mentally unscathed. Besides the occasional nightmare, you never dealt with flashbacks or survivor's guilt. Your damage was purely physical. The bullet to your leg had been it for you. But now, everything was rushing back. Every set of sharp, gnashing teeth. Every creature that lunged at you with its insides on the outside. Every person that should be dead stumbling towards you and trying to bite. All of them, running laps around your frayed mind.

The only thought you could conjure while looking at him was that one of those things was in your house.

You stumble backwards in terror, watching as he rises to his feet. He stands taller than normal. His tattered shirt falls away, his pants holding on by a thread. He's more hairy. His eyes look more intense.

"What are you?" you cry, hot tears beginning to roll down your cheeks.

His now-golden eyes continue to stare at you. The black slits his pupils had morphed into makes you nauseous. His chest is still heaving. It looks like he's resisting the urge to pounce on you.

"What's the matter? I thought you said we're in this together?" he growls.

"Chris!" you sob, "What is this? What did they do to you?"

"You know how it goes, baby," he manages to answer, "I got infected, and they don't know how to treat it yet."

"Why- why didn't you just tell me that?" you whimper, trembling violently.

"You think I wanted to see you looking at me like this? LIke I'm a goddamn monster."

"I'm sorry-" you say instantly, but he cuts you off. He's not interested in hearing that at the moment.

"I wouldn't cheat on you. I never would. I've been going out every night cause there's only two things that make this shit go away," he says, his words becoming more labored as he fights the urge to give into the infection.

"What are they?" you sniffle and wipe at your eyes.

"I go out every night to feed," he starts.

Another cry escapes you at the mere picture it puts in your head. There's no way in hell you're going to ask what - or rather who - he feeds on.

"But tonight, I can't because you didn't want me going out. So I guess we'll have to try the other thing," he rasps.

Your lip quivers violently. Why did he say we this time? You wait with baited breath to learn of your fate.

"You're gonna let me breed you," he says, eyes nearly burning two little holes into you with the heat in his gaze.

You feel like fainting at the idea. Your arms fall to your sides limply. Fear prickles up your spine and into your lungs. It feels like chains are wrapping around your torso, threatening to break your ribs. You could barely look at him like this. How were you supposed to...

"I- I don't know, Chris," you stammer out through tears.

"Well I do. We're gonna do this, or things are gonna get really ugly here," he says. It's a warning, not a threat, which makes it so much more real to you.

You're frozen again, unsure of what to do.

"I'll give you a head start. I need the chase," he says.

You stutter at first, unsure if you should take the opportunity to escape or try to reason with him some more. Though in the few seconds it takes you to contemplate this, it really looks like he's losing control, so you decide to take your chances running.

Whipping around, you bolt down the hall towards the back door. You'd have to leave that way since he was blocking the other point of exit. You plan your route in your head just like you used to during missions. 

There's also always the alternate possibility of darting up the stairs and getting the gun from the bedroom, but you aren't sure if bullets work on him, let alone if you could bring yourself to use it. Even in this new form, you still love him. You don't want to lose him.

So instead you practically rip the backdoor off its hinges before prancing across the porch and into the yard. The air outside is cooler, bringing a chill over you as your feet pad through the soft grass below.

You're in the process of hopping over the fence when you hear the door crash open again. He's after you now.

Breaths leave you in harsh puffs. Your limbs go taut with the instinct to survive. Despite the laser focus of your mind, you still feel shrouded in fear. Where are you running to? What are you going to do when you get there?

You couldn't just run to a neighbor's house. Chris might tear through them like this, and you don't want anyone getting hurt. But there's nothing else. You don't live close enough to any place that could help. Whatever mutation he had would probably aid him in tracking you, so you doubted hiding was an option. He looks more than strong enough to scale a tree.

It doesn't seem like there's any way to escape, but you keep sprinting, hoping for a miracle.

You're fast, but you can still hear your husband barreling towards you from behind. You leap over a log in your way and twist around rocks. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the big chunk of wood go flying seconds later. Then you hear a whoosh in what you assume is him leaping the boulder.

A small whimper leaves you, but you still keep going. You run in a straight line to keep your speed up. Your eyes stay locked straight ahead. He hasn't caught you yet. You can do this.

But interrupting your internal pep talk, the muscles in your thigh seize up, and you shriek. You go toppling to the ground, hitting it with a hard thud. It knocks the wind out of you. Your fingers claw at the dirt as you gasp for air.

This is why you were taken out of the field after your injury. If this happened out there, you'd be seconds away from death.

Right now though, you don't die. In lieu of the force of mortality, your husband crashes on top of you. You scream when he knocks into you. His large arms wrap around your body as the two of you roll across the grass. The struggle ends with him on top, grinning down at you with sharp canines in view. His chest puffs with the exertion it took to get here.

When you catch sight of his face, you wail louder. His features are somehow more pronounced, and a pair of pointed ears have sprouted atop his head. This is worse than any nightmare you've had before. You thrash beneath him, smacking your fists against his chest and jabbing your knees into his sides.

None of your fighting affects him. He wrestles your arms into place with ease and gets your legs to stop with his own, handling you as if you're merely throwing a silly tantrum.

"My sweet little wife," he rasps as he brings his face down to nose at your neck. He groans, his hips bucking as he takes in a breath of your scent. "You tried so hard, but you knew you wouldn't win."

His hand snakes down to massage the cramping muscles in your thigh. He knows just how to soothe them. Even with the rougher quality of his skin and longer nails, his digits move like they did just after you got surgery. Must be muscle memory.

He coos at your tears, nuzzling them away. "Shh, shh, shh, little one," he hushes, "You're gonna be fine. There's no safer place for you than with me."

You keep turning your head away, not wanting to look at him like this.

"Keeping those pretty eyes closed won't save you," he says.

You whimper, now trying to squirm away from him. Like before, he simply wrangles you back into place. He holds you down with one forearm across your collarbone, making you feel doubly pathetic. You push at the limb, but it's of no use. It may as well have weighed 1000 pounds the way you're simply unable to move it.

His free hand comes down to your belly. His warm palm spreads out over it. He holds it there for a moment, feeling how your stomach moves with each breath you take. Then his fingers slice upwards. His nails tear through your thin shirt like scissors through wrapping paper.

You shiver as he yanks it free, leaving your upper-half nude to the night air. Instantly, his hands paw at your breasts. He gropes them, fingers digging into the plump flesh and squeezing them together. His mouth stays at your neck. He kisses the skin, but his movements are sloppy. He laps at your pulse point, heavy breaths fanning over the wet area.

Despite your fear, the touches still stir feelings of desire within your body. You moan softly as his canines scrape along your throat. He chuckles lowly at the sound.

"You smell even better when you're a little scared," he says.

Your pants are next to go. He shreds them into pieces, letting them fall off your figure onto the grass. You squeak at the sound of the denim tearing.

He grinds down on you harder. His hips roll with such force it feels like he's trying to meld you with the ground. The movements draw a longer whine out of you, which in turn sends a rush of arousal through him.

You feel his bulge filling out against your center. It seems larger than ever before. After all these years of marriage, you know what his cock feels like. You've committed every detail to memory, and right now isn't matching up. You wrap your arms tighter around his abdomen out of the instinct to seek comfort from him. He does the same with to you, keeping you flush against his large frame for a few moments.

But then he lets you go. He pulls back and pushes down the remnants of his pants, freeing his cock from its confines. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head at the sight of the engorged shaft. It's longer for sure, but it's so much fucking thicker. His balls look heavier too, hanging proudly beneath.

You don't get much time to examine it because he's back on you in an instant.

"You're gonna take it so well, baby," he mutters against your lips before capturing them in a kiss.

You mewl, overwhelmed by his body all over you and his tongue intruding into your mouth. Kissing back reluctantly, you feel his middle finger slot between your folds and press down. His sharp nail cuts a perfect slit in the damp fabric over your pussy. You shudder as now you can feel the air hitting your slick.

His cock soon interrupts that sensation as he slides it against your wetness. He rocks it up and down through your arousal. You're so hot there, between your thighs. He angles his hips downward and slides his length into you.

You gasp before gritting your teeth. Your fingers clump fistfuls of grass against your palms. He's so much bigger. It's always a stretch, but this feels like the first time all over again. You can't even squirm because his large hands keep a firm hold on your hips.

The new size also affects him. A deep groan rumbles in his chest, and he shoves his face into the crook of your neck. Inch by inch he fills you up completely. It's nearly unbearable by the time he bottoms out. Your lip wobbles and more tears stream down your cheeks freely. They blur your vision, but it doesn't matter much as your eyes flutter anyways.

He can feel the shake of you crying, smell the salt of your tears. Neither make him slow down or stop. He digs his fingers into the dough of your hips harder, keeping you steady as he ruts into you.

"My fuckin' mate. Could never want anyone else," he grunts. He fucks into you a few more times before nipping at your neck and then continuing. "You're ok, baby. You were made for this. Made to take me."

You shriek as a particular snap of his hips shoves the head of his cock right up against your cervix. Cries accompany your tears now. Loud sobs pour from your mouth in a deluge.

He lets you be noisy. The large grassy field behind your house provides the room for you to scream as loud as you need. No one would be bothering you out here. Even if they did, it's not like they could do anything to stop Chris.

Your walls spasm around the veiny shaft that pulls in and out of your drippy hole, desperate to acquiesce to the large intrusion. His rhythm is already so quick. He pistons into you like he's in a rush; like if you're not bred here and now, he won't survive, which isn't far off from the truth.

You feel hot breaths against your throat. They come out quicker than the knocks of his pelvis against your ass. Noises akin to growling scratch at the back of his throat but never fully erupt.

"It's too much!" you finally wail, hoping for some sort of reprieve.

None is granted to you though. More broken sobs explode into the night air, but his face stays planted against your neck just as his cock stays nestled in your cunt.

"It's not too much," he finally mutters after a few seconds, "You're gonna take it all, and then you're gonna take my seed. Gonna take my pups, and you're gonna look perfect doing it."

Your body involuntarily squirms at the notion. You and Chris had both come to the decision that kids weren't for you. With his work and the mileage on your body from your own, the two of you decided to forgo that part of the white-picket-fence fantasy.

Now he's breeding you with dedication you've never seen him give to another task. Sure he isn't himself, but you'd still be yourself if he knocked you up. With all your stresses lately about your marriage potentially falling apart, slip ups with your pills have been happening more often.

It's hard to think any of this though from the way he batters your insides and molds them to his will. Your thoughts fade away in favor of an empty haze where everything is about him. Everything feels soft and dreamy when you let go. You wonder if his mind feels like another version of this.

"That's it. Atta girl. You know you're meant to be a mama, huh?" he rasps as your body melts down into a puddle.

"Chris!" you gasp. Your legs try to wrap around his large waist, but they can't get a good hold with how fast he's moving.

"Keep crying for me, little one," he says.

And that you do. Your fingernails drag down the rippling muscles in his back as you whine and cry. The sensation doesn't affect him at all. There's no hint of pain on his face, not an inkling of discomfort. Arousal floods out of you and around his length as he just keeps going.

"Gonna get you so full. No way it won't take."

Your knees bat at his side, but not out of resistance this time. You just can't control the tremors that take over you. They make your legs seize up and flail.

"So cute..." he grunts, "Your little body working so hard to take it all. Just like it'll work hard at carrying my pups."

Finally, you lose control. You think you cum, but it's hard to tell because you don't come down afterward. Trapped in this never-ending high, your eyes roll back and your body goes limp. White fills your vision just as hot pleasure covers every inch of your skin. He yanks you closer now, humping into your pussy like you're nothing more than a toy for him to play with.

"Good girl. Let it all go. Nothing's better than this. Just doing what you're supposed to. My perfect breeding pet," he growls.

Despite the rest of your body flopping around in his arms, your pussy stays nice and tight. It helps get him there. Each stroke into your heat drags him closer to the edge. He can't stop until he reaches the peak.

When he finally does, he throws his head back and releases with a roar. His muscles tense, his hips moving with the natural desire to breed. He doesn't have to think about anything. His cum spills out of him and into you.

It keeps going for a long time. You're not sure if it's because you're so out of it, but it's the longest orgasm you've seen anyone have. You can feel globs of his seed spilling trying to spill out of you even though he hasn't pulled out.

One last burst shoots against your walls, but then something finally pulls you back to reality. The intense stretch of his knot swelling up. You cry out, eyes widening in panic. Your hands push at his chest haphazardly.

Like every time tonight though, he won't let you go. He holds you on the swollen base of his cock. At least now though, when he's not trapped in the fervor of primal lust, he has the decency to kiss away your tears and stroke your cheeks.

"It's ok, sweetheart. Not much longer. You did so good for me," he whispers before kissing your nose, "Sweet little baby. You took so much didn't you?"

You nod lazily, watery eyes looking to him for reassurance.

"Yes, you did," he coos, "You just have to let it take now, and then you'll be all done."

His body stays true to his word. You don't have the exact time, but it's not too much longer before his knot begins to deflate.

You're relieved when the burn of the stretch begins to recede and fade away. It allows for a hazy sleepiness to take over instead.

Everything fades away. Your eyes droop, turning your vision to black. Vaguely, you feel Chris picking you up and the faint bobbing of steps. You hear the door creak and shut. Then soon, you feel the softness of your mattress beneath you and your blankets draped above you.

The last thing you feel before you shut your eyes is the weight of his bulky arm curling around your body and the heat of his chest against your back.

[shradsmanifestt]

MANIFESTATION

I feel you, I understand you, IT FEELS SO IMPOSSIBLE, like as if it juts isn't working, it seems pointless all of this affirming, when the 3D is still shit. But you're wrong. You really are. Who told you that you don't have it? The stupid 3D??? Your stupid circumstances??? I mean like why? Why are you putting so much power on that. You already have what you want and that's it. That's all. Don't give up. You're so close, You have no idea. You have no idea how you're winning. It really is done. The minute you decided it was. Trust me on this, just trust me on this. Don't give up. Just don't give up. I know you want this. I know you want it badly. I know if you would persist you could have it, just like that. It really is yours, it was always meant to be yours. You just think it won't work, cause you think that imagination isn't the real reality, because you give more power to your 3D and circumstances .

Why?? If you want it why would you do that to yourself? You shouldn't. I am telling you rn. You are not allowed to give up. I mean c'mon dude you literally know about the LAW OF ASSUMPTION. I mean knowing all this and you're still choosing to live in that life where you're not in control is just stupid. You owe it to yourself. Do you even know how fucking lucky you are to know all of this. I know for sure that a very very less percent of people actually know about manifestation/ manifest consciously. Do you realise howw fucking lucky you have to be to stumble across this. Every single day of my life I see people living their ordinary normal lives, just going with the flow, having little to no control of their lives and their circumstances and not evem realising it. I can literally see why their lives are exactly the way it is and it physically hurts me to know that people who do know about this are struggling. I understand it can be hard but if you persist you'd get it so easily. That's all you gotta do. I mean like really!! Just know it's already done. That is it. It is done. IT IS ALREADY DONE. YOU ALREADY HAVE IT. THE MINUTE YOU DECIDED IT WAS YOURS. AS LONG AS YOU DON'T GO BACK TO THE OLD STORY, NO ONE AND I REPEAT - NO ONE CAN STOP YOUR DESIRE MATERIALISING. THAT'S IT. THAT'S ALL THIS IS ABOUT. YOU HAVE IT AND YOU HAVE IT NOW.

NOW LEMME ASK YOU SOMETHING - WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU BE WORRIED ABOUT SOMETHING THAT IS ALREADY YOURS???????

[thewritersofdeceased]

HELLOO!! Soooo I so love your Tbp content!! And This is my first time ever requesting anything, and I'm so excited for tbp 2 anyways enough of my rambling :>>

Can you please make a Vance x Reader, like for example Vance is like very into Reader but reader is terrified of him bc of his reputation and all yk? If that makes sense lol

Hey, hey! No worries about the rambling I love it! This was a blast to write!! (please anyone request more Vance stuff I love writing him so much)

Gender neutral pronouns ! 

Vance was in love.

That’s right. For once in his life, Vance Hopper was in love. It felt weird. He saw how this sort of stuff affected his parents, but he hoped this wouldn’t end up the same. His parents were a terrible duo. At least his father was. He worked with the law, and he was usually the one to show up and drag the blonde into the station. He always got annoyed. Not like Vance cared what his father thought. Let alone how many times he got dragged to the station.

No. Vance cared about what someone by the name of Y/N thought about him. That's who he was in love with. But Vance was a violent kid, a kid with a hot-temper and a couple records in the cops record book. The amount of fights he got into and the amount of times he got arrested because of them. Or the threat of charges. Now that was hell when ever a parent of a kid would threaten him with charges, let alone when it was Moose. He hated Moose. Moose was a bully, everyone knew this. Though he despised the man whenever he would go after Y/N. The amount of times those two fought and got sent to the principles office was crazy.

Way too many times could Vance recall that. But here he stood again, leaning against his locker and standing beside a couple boys. They were younger than him, he could see that. Vance was around fourteen, the oldest of the group. He was the one about to go to highschool whilst the others entered their separate grades. That was fine with him. The boys would still have connections to him, they didn't live that far and the middle school wasn't a far walk. So if any of them got hurt or in a fight, Vance could run to the middle school and help 'em. Until Billy finally hit his own Freshmen year. Griffin was the youngest, so of course it would take a bit of time for him to reach High-School.

But what if y/n and him went to different high schools? What if y/n's parents decided to leave Denver and go somewher else? A soft sigh escaped Vance as a voice to his right rang out. "C'mon, Vance. You have to talk to them sooner or later." The voice to the right of him was Bruce Yamada, the second oldest of the group. "Right. They're scared of me, dumbass." Vance commented, rolling his eyes as he leaned his head against the locker. It only stiffed a laugh out of Bruce, who raised his brow and gently nudged Vance's shoulder. Bruce knew why people were weary of the group, and it was all because of Vance's reputation. But he wasn't the one to speak up next, no. Griffin did. Even if the boy hardly spoke, being selective Mute. "It's your reputation, Vance." The youngest boy thought of the blonde like an older brother.

Which, Vance didn't mind. He would protect the youngest kid with his life. He'd protect any of these kids with his life, even if he died. Well, he didn't want to die, that was for sure. A sigh escaped him as his arms crossed. "Well, then I've gotta pick up my act, ain't I? If I want a chance with them?" This surprised the younger and second oldest. "You really plan on changing your ways, Vance?" Bruce asked as he stared at the blonde with messy hair. It'd be a challenge for the fighter. He knew that for sure. But he needed to change if he'd have a chance with Y/N. A low sigh escaped Vance as he crossed his arms and hummed. "I have to. I like 'em, you all know this." He reminded, trying to keep himself calm as he watched y/n interact with their friends.

This may take a while, but if he wanted to talk to them? He had to do it. He had to stop getting into fights, as bad as that would be. Specifically when it came to Moose. Or Buzz and Matt, and even Matty. He was a fighter, but he'd stop for his crush. Lower his reputation one way or another.

[booksooks]

𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒚 𝑭𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓

Author's Note: i have raging baby fever. help me.

Content: hitting it from the back, creampie (?)/pregnancy talk/general baby fever

Word Count: 467

Summary: Hawks wants a baby. Obviously he's gotta fuck it into you first.

Keigo has baby fever so bad he can't stop pointing out any baby-related items whenever you go to any store together. He'll scoop up a pair of shoes and come bounding over to you with that boyish grin of his (because, let's face it, the chin scruff really didn't do much to dissuade the babyface allegations for the poor hero), and dangle them in front of your face like they were a treat.

"C'mon, aren't they cute? At least admit they're cute - so small I can hold them in one hand, look!"

And then he would almost reverently put the shoes into one of his palms, and look up at you like an excited puppy. It really is the pleading look on his face that does you in. Plus maybe the way he always looks so very briefly hurt when you roll your eyes playfully and tell him to put the baby shoes back because: you're not even pregnant!

Which is how you found yourself on all fours in your shared bed, face pressed into the pillows, hands scrabbling for purchase on the rumpled sheets as Keigo slams his cock into you as hard as he possibly can.

The sound of your muffled whimpers echo in the empty room, Keigo's grip on your hips tightening as he continues to thrust into you with reckless abandon. The bed creaks beneath your combined weight, the headboard slamming against the wall in rhythm with his movements.

"Just like that, take it just like that," he growls, one hand sliding up your spine to grip a fistful of your hair, tugging your head back roughly. "You're mine, all mine, and I'm gonna fill this tight little cunt with my cum until you're swollen with it."

His words are punctuated by the lewd slap of skin on skin, the obscene squelch of your dripping pussy as he drives into it again and again. His balls are drawn up tight against his body, and his stomach flexes with each powerful snap of his hips.

"Gonna breed you, knock you up good and proper," he pants, grinding his pelvis against your ass as he bottoms out inside you. "Get you all round and ripe with my kid, maybe two if i'm lucky. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Being stuffed full of my kids?"

All you can manage is a weak moan, and maybe a nod. You're not really sure - your head is foggy with pleasure and sparks of electricity keep running up your body from your cunt.

His hand leaves your hip to roughly palm your stomach, already imagining you round and heavy, dependent on him and the perfect mother. His thrusts become erratic, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he feels you clenching around his cock.

"You ready to be a mommy?"

End Notes: Hope you enjoyed! god i have babyfever so bad someone help me

ABSOLUTELY NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WORK TO ANY SITE.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Daryl was frantic as he opened the cell door. "C'mon. We gotta go now. 'M gettin' ya outta here," he said. He was puzzled as you stayed huddled on the floor at the back of the cell. "C'mon. S'okay. I'mma make sure yer safe."

You continued to just stare at him with wide eyes. "Daryl—No. You can't," you replied.

His brow furrowed. Confusion washed over his face. "What? Yeah, I can. Ya ain't stayin' in here any longer. Look what they've already done t'ya," he said, his eyes flickering over the smears of dried blood on your skin and the blooming purple bruises. His chest felt hollow and achy. His heart raced with rage. He crossed the cell toward you, glancing over his shoulder again to make sure none of the Reapers were heading your way. He started to untie the ropes binding your wrists and ankles but you jerked away from him, glassy tears in your eyes.

"No! Please! If they know you helped me, they—they'll hurt you too! Please. I can't let you get hurt. Who knows what they'd do if—" you broke off and your eyes darted toward the door as a sound rattled down the hallway. Footsteps were soon audible in the distance.

Daryl swore under his breath, glancing up the long hallway. He looked back at you and cupped your face with one hand. "Nah. S'my job to worry 'bout that. I will get ya outta here. Alrigh'? I ain't lettin' 'em keep doin' this to ya. I promise."

Prompt: "Please! If they know you helped me, they—they'll hurt you too! Please. I can't let you get hurt."

[claggorstuff]

I NEED a claggor x reader where the reader is sent to the other dimension with ekko, and like ekko and powder, claggor and that dimensions reader have an established relationship. What would his reaction to us acting weird, being that the last time we saw him was under a pile of rubble. Would he catch on, or would he only realize once we finally leave with ekko through the portal device? Thank you ❤️❤️❤️

Hehe, I have time to do this now

I can't make up a title for this so let's just go with what you said

I shot up, surroundings now entirely different from before, I was all of the sudden in a new room, new home, and surrounded by these odd gadgets, all growing some sort of flower or plant.. it smelt like lilacs, oddly. I stumbled through the home calling for jayce or ekko or even that little furry fellow, in stumbled... him. A face I could recognize but just barely, the memory of his eyes, void of light or life, it was stuck in me forever..

"Y/n.. are you good? 'Nother nightmare or...?"

"Y-You.." I felt sick to the stomach, his goggles were on a desk filled with petals and roots and liquids unkown

"Me...?" His voice was gruff and tired, full of natural confusion

I stared as if he were a stranger, but in my guilt and sorrow, I lunged into his arms as if he'd disappear before my eyes. He held me warmly, rubbing my back, ignoring the confusion he had about why I was acting in such a way. I looked up at him. He'd become so different, so beautiful, and clearly, he'd become an inventor, fitting for a mind as large as his.

"Any reason for all.. this?"

"..I uh.. you just.. looked tired."

"Ahh.. right.. sorry, I pulled another all-nighter. I just can't get them to absorb the-"

"It's ok.. don't apologize, I know how hard you work, claggor." The name left my mouth for the first time in ten years. It stung like a hornet to say it, but he just gave me a soft and appreciative smile.

"Thanks y/n, besides- I made a new flower just for you this time-! And it's my best yet, wanna see it?"

"Sure..sure.. but uhm.. where's ekko? I think I need to speak to him first."

"Well, he's probably back at benzos still, we can go there and then come back for the thing, c'mon let's go."

He took my hand, pulling me along the lanes, which were.. cleaner, than I remember. Not a brothel in sight, and when we got to benzos, I could see ekko stumbling out looking just as confused as I was. I ran over and yanked him out of sight before claggor could yell over at us to wait up, and he was in a state of disarray

"What the hell happened?!" I yelled, agitation in my voice as if it was he who brought us here

"How the hell would I know. JINX is in there, but she's not jinx shes- she's powder and benzos in there and.. nothing is right here.. I'm just glad I'm not crazy. That I'm not the only one who knows there's something wrong.. are you okay though..?"

"I'm just.. he's.. he's here, and it hurts. It hurts so damn bad.. but I'll be okay, we gotta figure out a way to get home." I crossed my arms, squeezing my wrists, holding back the tears that begged to come out.

"We'll figure this out.. I'll figure this out. You just go back to him.. enjoy the time you got with him." He gave me a nervous smile, I could tell he was worried for me. He knew this is what I longed for all these years that claggor has been gone. And I knew that too, but I can power through the pain. The longing. The grief.. he walked back out so that we didn't look so suspicious, claggor walked over and slung his arm around my shoulder chuckling

"What're you two up to now? You better not be telling him about my stuff so he wins the innovators comp!"

"No.. I'd never." I fake giggled, conveying my confusion about what he was even talking about. He kissed my cheek, sending fire through my face.

"So, I've been having trouble with the infusions of the grey clearing system the flowers have, any ideas?"

"Grey..clearing.. flowers..? Uhhh.. not a clue."

He stared seemingly bewildered by this answer, as if I tend to have all the answers, he chuckled and nodded

"Making me figure it out myself again I guess?"

"Yep."

I walked with him down to what used to be the room he, Mylo, powder, and vi slept in, it had been turned into a lab of sorts, you could tell they'd all moved out, but Vander always liked to have visitors I suppose, I guess that's why claggor converted it into a lab for him and powders little habits of invention. I saw many flowers, big and small, many colors, many beautiful forms.. but on his desk laid a great beauty of a flower. It shined with a spectrum of colors reflecting off each petal almost like oil, it's petals curved at the base and twisted at the tips into spirals. I stepped closer to it to investigate perhaps what he named this marvelous thing, only to see.. it shared my own name.

"Oh uh.. yeah, I forgot to show you my latest little project... your birthday was coming up and I couldn't just give you some boring necklace or flower.. so.." He put a hand over it and pulled the lever at the top emitting a gas onto it that it seemed to absorb and grow, it's petals curling as if to breathe.

"That's.. for me..? You made a whole new species of plant for..me..?"

"Well- you know I got a knack for these things n.. I really don't think its all that yet, it doesn't even compare.."

He stared down at it seeming disappointed, I've not the slightest clue how he could be, it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.. it had function in its beauty, one of his plants that live off of the carbon emissions of fossil fuels it looked like.

"...I think it's more than enough for me." I opened the little window to touch it, he sighed and shook his head

"Not possible, REALLY not possible." He murmured, smiling a little as he watched me play with the flowers spiraled outward petals, to think that this is what I could've had from him.. this is what I could've had if..

"...Are you.. crying..?" He quickly crouched to my level to put an arm around me as I wept. He doesn't know that I'm not the girl he loves or ever did love, it pains me to know I can't stay, that I have to go back to visiting his grave in the underground, the city full of smog and sewage that this version of him wouldn't stand for.. I could barely speak, unknowing of how to explain why I wept.

"I just.. I really love it, claggor. I do.." I croaked out, he rubbed my cheek, wiping away tears and picked me up gently

"Well, I'm not finished with it yet, so be patient!" He nervously spoke, I could tell he was trying to calm me down.

"Alright.. if I have to." The mask of this different me went back on as he carried me up to Ekko, Mylo, and Powder. We conversated for a while until powder and ekko left to visit vi, I'd wondered what she looked like here, but I was too reluctant to leave Claggor to go see. As the days went by, Ekko and Heimerdinger seemed to be finding a way back home, and it got harder to hide who I was. Claggor seemed to be catching on slowly to the fact I wasn't telling the full truth of why I would seem to be lost in his eyes, why I would just have fits of crying and grief late at night next to his sleeping body, he didn't know how much it looked like his cold corpse shining in the blue light of the moon.

The night of the innovators competition, Claggor danced with me to the music played at the celebration.. but I could tell something was off. Later on Ekko had taken me to where he'd been working on his stuff with Heimerdinger and Powder, Heimerdinger was tinkering with his machine excitedly as Powder and Ekko cautioned him. I knew it was time to go, and it was time to leave this world behind. Time to leave claggor behind. When I heard a call from the entrance.

"What the hell is going on here?!"

I swiveled around when suddenly it happened, me and Ekko were separated from the bodies of these different versions of ourselves. Heimerdinger had disappeared, Claggor rushed to hold the woman he loved, and I could only stare and smile. She was meant to be with him, not me. But before we left, he stared up at me. He stared up at me and gave me one last smile before he disappeared for the rest of my life.

Sigma Sigma on the wall.. who's the skibidiest of them all...

Freaky...

[oneforthemunny]

I heard something about angsty fics around here? Am I right? I'm not sure about the plot, but it has to be cowboy eddie!

Pretty please. Something about sweet girl keeping a secret, but a totally innocent one, just to not concern him. But he found out accidentally, and all was a misunderstanding. He talked to her really harshly, accusing her of cheating and not being trustworthy. Something like that plz plz plz

"Thanks, Gare. I think he's gonna love it." You whispered, cradling the landline to your ear. You could hear the creak of the screen door followed by Eddie's heavy boots on the wood floor, heart skipping.

"I gotta go. Thank you. Talk to you soon." You slid around the kitchen wall's corner, slipping the phone back on the hook as silently as you could, wincing at the small click of the phone settling.

"Hey, honey." You greeted, slinking towards Eddie sweetly. "You done already?"

Eddie grunted in response, stripping his socks, tossing them in the laundry room.

Irritation consumed you, though you tried to mask it. Eddie had been so moody lately. You assumed it was because of his birthday. He always got weird around his birthday, which is exactly why you were determined this year to make it a good one.

"Are you hungry? I kept your sandwich in the fridge, since you didn't come in at lunc-"

"-Who were you on the phone with?" A piercing, furrowed brow gaze met yours suddenly. Canopied by matted curls from a day's work, you could still see the deep lines on his forehead, furrowed.

"What?" You chirped, eyes wide, round in caught surprise. Shit, he'd heard you. How the hell had he heard you? You'd been so quiet, so careful, wanting to surprise him. The look of pure shock, it would be priceless.

You expected to see his lips curl in a smirk, shake his head at you, tell you something along the lines of, "c'mon, baby, can't get anything past me, y'know that".

It never came.

Instead, Eddie's eyes flashed in fury- hurt. Nostrils flaring in a deep breath he tried to swallow down, tried to keep his anger from flaring.

"Who were you on the phone with?" Eddie gritted, an eerie steadiness to his tone that had you shuddering, stomach twisting in fear.

"I-I was- I was just calling to check on my prescription." A stuttering of a lie fell from your lips, nails digging into the palms of your hands. "Just calling to see when I needed to go into town to pick it up-"

"-Y'know," Eddie huffed, standing to his full height, looming over you. "If you're gonna fuck around on me, you could have the decency not to do it in my home."

My home. The words, the tone of his voice, it sent icy waves of fear down your spine. The last time Eddie had called the home "his place" was before you moved in, since then it had been shared with the two of you. Our home, our place, ours.

"What?" Your own brows furrowed this time. "I'm not fucking with you-"

"-No, no, no." Eddie shook his head, taking a striding step towards you. "That's not what I said. I said fucking around on me." There was a beat, your face falling in hurt, his steeling in fury. "Because that's what you're doin'? Aren't you? Fucking around on me?"

"Are you out of your goddam mind?" It was your turn to scoff, angry and insulted. "Did Medusa kick you in your fucking head or something?"

"Don't!" Eddie's voice boomed, hand smacking against the doorframe, a loud echoing of a hit. You stilled, eyes wide, he'd never been this angry- not with you at least. Not at you.

"Don't you come in my fucking house, fucking around on me when I've done nothing-nothing but love you!"

"I'm not fucking around on you, Eddie! Christ, have you lost your mind?" You shouted back, taking a furious step towards him, the two of you in a stand off. "I mean, what is the matter with you? You think I-I'm cheating on you?"

"You think I'm stupid?" Eddie sneered, jaw tight. "You sneakin' around, makin' phone calls all day? Runnin' off into town? I might be a lot of things, honey, but dumb ain't one of 'em."

"You are dumb." You snapped bitterly. "Stupid, even. If you think I'm cheating on you. What the fuck is the matter with you?"

"Who is he?" Eddie's hands gripped the door frame. "Huh? I deserve to know. Who is he?"

You gawked, baffled, furious, embarrassed. Eddie thought you were cheating? Cheating? How did something so kind, so thoughtful that you were trying to do for him, backfire to this? It made you feel hurt, insulted.

"Who is he?" You scoffed. Eddie's face didn't move, expression not softening, not falling. You could feel the burn filling your chest, your nose, suffocating you.

Stomping over to your purse, you flipped it upside down, dumping the contents of it out. There, amongst the change and hair ties, you snatched the receipts you'd shoved to the bottom of your purse. Business cards, a small neon invitation, and wadded receipts from the party stores, balling them in your hand, flinging them at Eddie's face furiously.

"You want to know who I've been talking to?" You sneered, watching Eddie scan the receipts, face slowly falling as he read the item- a birthday cake written confirmation note order with the small note added, "Happy Birthday, Eddie!" in red piping. The date for next Saturday, his birthday.

"I've been on the phone with Gareth." You spat, trying to swallow the tears already brimming your waterline. "I've been sneaking around and trying to plan you a surprise party, because I wanted you to have a good birthday for once."

Eddie felt sick, a wave of nausea crashing over him, head spinning in a dizzying ache. A small invitation, "Shh! It's a secret!" in bold, funky lettering on the invitation, Gareth's address written below.

"Oh." Eddie croaked. His eyes met yours again, though this time, he wore the rounded look of shame. "I, um, I-I didn't me-"

"-You're a fucking asshole." You spat, blinking through tear stained vision, stomping up the stairs in a hurt fury, ignoring his cries and pleas that you cut off with the slamming of the bedroom door.

[filthweb]

I think this thirst will barely be considered dark, but I think it still fits the vibe of your blog, if not, no worries.

Sooo, imagine you meet these two charming young men, Satoru and Suguru. Satoru is head over heels for you, but you only have eyes for Suguru. Suguru has a thing for you too but by the time he realizes he'd already promised Satoru he'd help him get a date with you.

You have a cute friend movie date with them both at your place but unfortunately Satoru had something come up. He makes Suguru go anyway to hype him up. Not even halfway through the movie you're in Suguru's lap making out with him.

He pulls away "We shouldn't be doing this, I promised Satoru I'd help him get a date with you."

You grind your hips against his "Is that what you want? Me to go on a date with your friend?"

"No, but I also don't want to be a bad friend."

"Hmm, how about this, I promise I'll go on a date with Satoru, but ONLY if you promise fuck me after."

What he doesn't know can't hurt him right? So, after your cute cafe date with Satoru, he calls Suguru to gush about how perfect you are, how you might be the one, all the while Suguru is biting his lip trying to make sure he doesn't moan as you're riding him.

How long do you think the two of you can keep this going? Eventually Satoru is going to want to sleep with you, right? I mean, he's already got the names picked out for your future children. But Suguru has your heart (and pussy) and the thrill of sneaking around is so hot.

Will guilt get to Suguru before Satoru catches on?

shit i can't be caught posting this

okay but suguru had been doting on you before satoru confessed it out loud to him. despite the cool popular guy persona, satoru is a pussy in asking girls out. especially if someone's as pretty as you so he sends geto as his wingman. little did he know...

you are on the sofa with sugu while toru is arguing on the phone with someone.

"i gotta go. i am so sorry guys." and you don't even try to make him stay. you were hoping to be alone with geto (so did he deep down somewhere)

when it's just you two, you are so hyperfocused with each movement you make, not even remembering the storyline of the movie. you shift closer and closer to get till your thighs touch. your skins do too. one things lead to another and now you're straddling on his lap, making out sloppily, like a greedy bunny.

"fuck we shouldn't. he really likes you, baby."

"you can't say that and call me baby in the same sentence. c'mon sugu...i can feel it against my pussy, y'know? i know you wanna," you argue. he tries to debate but you're quicker,

"alright. i'll go out with him. but only if you..."you guide his hands to your pussy, "fuck her."

with that, all remorse and guilt was swallowed like he swallow curses. he needed you. this will never reach him anyways. toru gets a date and you both get to fuck. everyone wins.

but it was so hard to keep it down. your date with satoru was great but only because you were daydreaming about suguru fucking you after.

gojo calls him up, telling him how you were so sweet and all. geto has the phone on speaker, so you both can feel how wrong this is and how much it turns you in even more. suguru moans a few times but toru doesn't notice because he is busy yapping about you. you shove your tits in his mouth to keep him from making sounds, only removing so he can answer an eventual "hmm"

a few seconds later, satoru goes silent...the call is still on though? fuck did he catch on?

[quartergremlin]

Casey's scales.

transcript:

Caption: CJ: sheds his scutes and what few scales he has, but the rest of their skin just gets flaky and irritated, like excema.

Leo: oh dude, are you shedding? That's doesn't look good.

Casey: oh yeah I always does this, the water helps with the itching a bit.

L: Sure, for a second. This hurt?

C: yeah

L: Donnie puts chlorine and stuff in here, it's gotta be drying you out worse. C'mon, were going to the med bay.

L: You can use this twice a day for two weeks. How's it feel?

C: It burns a bit.

L: more than it was?

C: no.

L: good. That should be enough to get the worst of it under control, but if it gets worse after a couple days, we'll try something else.

C: Thanks, Leonardo.

[writing-mlm]

hii saw you also do marvel fics :) a scott summers x male reader would be so awesome i can never find any good mlm stories for him. bonus points if it’s like an opposites attract dynamic where the reader is more irritable and rash whereas scott is more level headed and critical. thank you, no rush!!!

Irritations and Delight

Summary: Your temper is well known amongst the others but they have a trick up their sleeves that works every single time. Pairing: Scott Summers x Male Reader WC: 4.7k a/n: genuinely foaming at the mouth for Scott I forgot how little screen time he gets LMFAOOOO

Scott sighs as he gets called down to the War Room just before midnight. It’s the third time that week he’s been called to stop a fight and considering that it’s only Monday he knows it’s going to be a very long week. Despite the urgency of Jean’s request, he takes his sweet time going down the stairs rather than taking the elevator as he should have and through the halls before he sees the door. It’s closed, so he presses his hand to it, rubbing the sleep from his face while it scans him.

“I’m not taking shit from someone I need to look down at!” He hears you scoff as the doors open. He knows you’re arguing with Logan, because of course you are, it’s more often than not him. “Keep your Canadian ass away from my fucking snacks!” You warn, nostrils flaring. Jean looks at Scott with a pleading look and he just leans against the door frame, debating if this is even worth intervening— spoiler; it’s not. He’ll let you go for a little longer, get most of the steam out of your system. 

“You can make more,” Logan shrugs. “Isn’t that your whole thing? Creating,” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were so broke you gotta steal like an alley rat,” Taking the jab as well as you expected, Logan flares— damn near growls, too— and clenches his fist. You grin, staring at his claws, and tilt your head, threatening him even to try and hit you. But he’s stopped by Scott calling for you. Your last name cutting through the air like a whistle during gym class.

Scott’s voice is half a warning, half a tired plea when he calls you. Regrettably, his presence makes Logan smirk and you scowl before it drops from your face and you glare over at him. “C'mon now,” He beckons with his index and middle finger before turning and walking away. You suck your teeth and drop the topic for now. 

“Run along,” Logan taunts as you walk past him. “Daddy’s calling.” You stop and look at the door before at Logan; it’s not really a split-second decision but you walk back around and punch him in the jaw before leaving. He doesn’t fight back, not when Jean is attending to his ‘wound’ and Scott yells for you. He should be thanking you, really. She hasn’t willingly been that close to him in months. With one last shared look, you head out of the War Room and into the bright hallway. 

“Don’t say it,” You grit, rubbing your knuckles as you walk in stride with him. It doesn’t hurt, you’ve punched harder things, but you’re making sure that you didn’t break anything seeing as your hand is technically still healing from your last mission. 

“Say what?” Scott pauses, standing with his arms crossed. “That you’re being childish or that you shouldn’t hit your teammates?” Sucking your teeth, you drop your hands into your pockets and kick the imaginary rock on the floor. 

“He called you my daddy,” You grumble. “I’m older than you, by the way.” It’s like four months, but that’s still older than him. 

“Really?” He grins, his arms still crossed but now he flexes his biceps. It gets your attention more than his words do and he knows that. Asshole. “I couldn’t tell.” 

“Shut up, Summers.” 

He just tosses an arm over your shoulder and drags you over to the elevator. You bite the corner of your mouth, stopping the smile on your face until you’re alone in the elevator. 

“What even started that?” He asks, his knuckle stroking your cheek. It doesn’t take an empath to know the action alone makes you weak in the knees; metaphorically speaking, of course. The man knows how to make you unfold in seconds, which is why he’s the only one dispatched to handle you. 

“I was making cookies in secret,” You start, pursing your lips. “It’s stupid but I was proud of them and-and they were mine. But Logan’s stupid fucking nose sniffed them out while we were out getting groceries and he ate every single one of them.” He frowns, just a bit. He doesn’t want you to think he’s pitying you but he knows how much it hurts you. 

Baking wasn’t exactly a hobby of yours, truth be told you were a disaster in the kitchen, but he knew well enough that you could make some mean cookies. Everyone knew that and snatched them up whenever you made any, leaving nothing left for you. And yes, your mutation allowed you to recreate those same exact cookies as much as you wanted but you never did. 

“I just wanted something for myself— and you, of course. Just this once. And that bitch starts going on about how I should’ve hidden them better or put a note on them if I didn’t want anyone else eating them. But they were! They were in our room, in my dresser, inside of my tupperware!” Now you’re shouting and Scott takes a step back, his chest rising as you enunciate each pronoun. 

“I’ll speak with him,” He promises and your head whips around to face him. The elevator gets to your stop and you face forward, marching out and towards the staircase. 

“Oh, because then he’ll talk about how my ‘daddy’ came to my rescue again!” You shout while using air quotes. “No— it’s fine. Next time I’ll just make him a batch and load them with laxatives and chocolates, have that dog dying with shit pouring out his ass.” 

“(L/n),” He scolds, following you as you climb the stairs two at a time. “You agreed to stop calling Logan a dog.” He catches you by the elbow, spinning you around so you’re facing him. 

“No, I said I'll stop calling him a mutt.” You correct, waving your finger in front of his face. “It felt like a slur, so I stopped. But technically wolverines aren’t dogs, they’re weasels. So, dog doesn’t work either.” Slow blinking, Scott drops your arm and follows you into your shared room. By that point, you’ve gone quiet and it’s not because it’s after hours and you, as the responsible adult and teacher, would hate to wake the children up. 

He sees a mess, the things in your dresser are tossed about and the tubberware is broken into several pieces. You don’t apologize, you don’t feel a need to, instead you huff and start cleaning while he sits on the edge of your bed. Knowing that you hate it when he helps with your messes, he waits until everything is neatly folded or tossed into the trash can before he pulls you over. 

“Would you like it if I talked to the Professor about getting a toaster oven for our room?” He asks while guiding you to your side of the bed. You shrug as a response, staring at the wall. “Hey,” Grabbing your face with a ghostly grip, he makes you stare at him. “You can’t just shut down, come on.”

“I guess,” You huff, moving his hand from your face. “It’s ridiculous that we’d need to do that, though. It’s a communal space but no one respects it. I’m tired of treating people older than me like toddlers just because I have something they want!” Tenderly, he kisses the top of your head and lays properly next to you. 

“I understand, we can have a conversation with the Professor in the morning. For now, rest,” While he puts his night mask on, you reach over and turn the lamp off before holding him close. He insists on laying this way, with your head tucked into his back or neck and his grip tight on your hands. You like it, too. Scooping his legs on top of your own, you sigh into a yawn and try to fall asleep. 

—

“Hey, pretty boy!” You call as you enter the garage where Scott is working on his motorcycle. Classes had since finished up and with no other work to do, it was officially time to do whatever the fuck you wanted. And what you wanted was to bother your oh-so-loving boyfriend. 

“Yes, hun?” He calls from under that damn bike. Only able to see his legs, you lay your head against the door frame and look around. 

“Would you mind if I sit and watch you?” You ask, checking out an empty spot. Maybe you should get a motorcycle— but then he couldn’t drive you around anymore. But you could ride with him. But you wouldn’t have an excuse to not go places alone anymore. No motorcycle. 

“Course not.” He responds, sliding out from under the bike and beckons you over. Taking long strides over to him, you settle next to him and he explains what he’s doing. Fixing an exhaust pipe and something on the bottom of it had been dragging during the last ride so he was checking on that. You used to offer to fix it, your dad is a mechanic and your powers could fix it in seconds but he said he liked getting his hands dirty. 

You just know he doesn’t like anyone to handle his bike. 

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence until he finishes, you’d given up watching him tinker because you wanted him to actually do his task and knew you couldn’t stop yourself from pestering. Instead, you grabbed a useless tool in the box and changed it into various objects, eventually changing it back and reaching for an instruction manual that was hidden under wrenches. 

It wasn’t riveting or even particularly useful, an instruction manual for a toolbox wasn’t the best literature. But it passed the time until Scott let out the huff that signaled he was done and would admire his work for ten minutes. 

“Have you eaten?” You ask while he washed his hands in the large basin in the corner of the garage. 

“Not since lunch,” Lunch, if you could call it that, was a single slice of toast with a layer of jam so thin you couldn’t believe he wasted a knife for that. 

“Perfect, let’s go get some dinner.” Dinner with the rest of the school was hectic; it was dinner with a bunch of superpowered teenagers after all. So whenever you can, you opt to eat away from them and luckily tonight is one of those nights. 

Charles had ordered enough pizza to fill a god and you snagged a box before anyone noticed. It was yours and Scott’s favorite, too, so you think the Professor knew your plan from the start. But who knows? You still head outside with the box in hand and head to your secret spot on the property. 

Since the mansion overlooks acres of land there were plenty of secret spots but you like to believe yours was actually a secret. When you first got there you’d create a tree house, back then it was just large enough for you and your items but nowadays you hang with him whenever you can. 

The great weeping willow was the perfect tree to hide the house in, too. The large dangling leaves provided more than enough coverage— even for the spiral staircase you climb to reach the top. 

“How romantic,” Scott teases when you appear with a pizza box, soda, and two cups. You’d forgone getting plates because eating from the box is just as acceptable. You thank him and slide the box onto the table. He stops it from sliding off, watching as you grab a vinyl from the display case and set it on the player. It’s a newer one, one you’d stolen on accident. You swear it was an accident and Scott is inclined to believe that for his peace of mind. 

“Dinner and music,” He meets you halfway and runs his hands along your arms. “You really know how to treat a guy.” He muses. 

“Not just any guy,” Your lips curl into a smile as you stare at him. “My guy.”

“Your guy?” He echos and you nod, your eyes darting to his lips. 

“My favorite guy, my dream man, my boyfriend. My heart— I can continue if you’d like.” 

“Message received.” He shakes his head and presses a slow kiss to your lips. When his lips leave yours, you slowly open your eyes and then nudge his shoulder, telling him it’s time to eat. 

When you spend nearly all day with your significant other, sharing memories and gazes throughout the day, one might think there’s not much to talk about at the end of the day. But you begin to word vomit the second your butt hits the chair. Scott listens and gives his own input whenever he wants and the conversation eventually evolves into very juicy gossip about your students. 

Not very mature, sure. But come on! It’s like your own reality TV show. It would be better if one of you were telepathic but oh well, word of mouth and visual cues are just as fine. 

You think Tamara, a girl who’s technically a senior in high school with the powers to walk through walls is the one who’s been helping the younger kids during their nightmares before the others could get to them. Scott disagrees, he thinks it's Kevin, a kid who can enter people’s dreams.

“But Kevin can’t control whose dream he enters,” You point out, stopping yourself before you tell him about the time Kevin went into your dream where you were inside of the White House trying to get the President— who’d been Bob Marley— to come to your birthday party. 

“He’s getting better,” Scott draws his hand to his hair, slicking it back. “Because he’s been helping the others. You haven’t seen the way the kids look at him?”

“Have you seen how they look at Tamara? She’s like a big sister to them.” Tossing the crust of your slice into the box, you grab another. Honestly, his point does make sense. How else is a kid with dream powers supposed to get better? By entering dreams. “Maybe it’s both of them.” You settle on. 

“What? Kevin deals with the dream and Tamara helps them if they wake up?”

“I mean…” You trail. “Their rooms are right next to each other, it’s not hard to believe.”

“I think we cracked the code,” Scott grins and you nod as pizza cheese slides off of your lip. 

“Man, sign us the fuck up for mystery solving.”

—

Physically imposing wasn’t typically a word people would use to describe you. You don’t have a body type close to Logan or even Scott. You work out just enough, truly you don’t care too much about lifting cars or being able to punch through walls.

It’s useless in your opinion when you could very easily just turn the wall into sand or make the car paper. 

But that doesn’t mean you aren’t strong. 

You’re plenty strong, you work out every morning with Scott. You often use the students as weights just for the hell of it. While you don’t keep track you think your current limit is two seventy-five on each side of the dumbbell. 

So when you punched a protester it caught him off guard. Which wasn’t hard considering he was busy shouting nonsense at your students. But, hey, he was being really annoying. No one around you said he didn’t deserve it, no one gave you a look of shame or disgust. 

But he didn’t hit the ground, time seemed to freeze and you sighed through your nose, fist still clenched as you listened to Charles making his way over. Scott wasn’t far behind, grabbing you by the elbow just before Charles spoke up. 

“Now, was that necessary?” He asks, his stupid holier than-thou voice doing nothing to make you ashamed of hitting the man. 

“When you talk shit about my kids, absolutely,” You tell him. “How about next time you agree to take at-risk children on a field trip, you use your shitty powers to make sure someone isn’t going to hurl cruel words at them.” 

“How’d he even know?” Scott asks, staring at the man’s clearly unhinged jaw. 

“Someone scared Man-man on accident and his face went all… froggy,” You explain, looking at Man-man with an apologetic look. He looks down, rubbing his arm. “And of course, the man saw.” 

“You should’ve come to me.”

“You should’ve known.” You correct him, staring down at him. “Isn’t that your whole thing? Mind reading, and understanding people’s characters? You’re supposed to look out for them and my method is much more effective than walking away and calling for you.” Scott whispers your name, his voice was soft, and begging you to stop arguing. 

You falter, not wanting to ruin the trip anymore, and run your face.

“Can’t you just wipe his memory? Only we saw.”

“And can we go somewhere cooler?” Claire asks, leaning against her boyfriend Todd. Her long blonde hair running down the length of her face before she shifts it behind her ear. “We’ve been to this evolution museum three times. I heard there’s a movie theater down the street.” 

“The movies sounds good,” Ororo agrees, ever the helper for Charles. “I’ve been wanting to see the new one, what’s the name?” She turns to Jean who whispers the name and she nods. 

“I suppose some quiet time in the cinema couldn’t hurt.” Charles reluctantly agrees and the kids cheer. 

“We could totally—“ 

“No.” Scott shoots the idea down and you sigh, crossing your arms while getting the kids to line up. He pinches your side as he gets his kids to line up next to yours and you pinch him back. 

“It would be for like twenty—“

“No,” He drags out, not even looking at you. 

“You don’t even know what I’m asking!” Giving you a look, you chuckle and nod. “I totally was asking for that.” 

—

“It’s nine,” Scott drawls from above you, one hand on your shoulder and the other on the headboard. “You’ve slept in plenty today.” You groan and roll over, pulling your cover up to your chin. 

“Suck a dick, Summers.” 

“I’m sure I will, later,” He blinks. “But you’ve missed breakfast and your first class. It’s time to get up.” Grumbling under your breath, you turn and face him. He’s been awake for hours, you knew because he woke you up when he did. Plus, he’s a messy sleeper and you relish the bed to yourself sometimes. He smiles and sits down on the edge of the bed next to you, stroking your hairline. 

“It’s Friday, man. Can’t we cancel class for one day?” Your eyes dart between his glasses, finding his eyes in the red. 

“I’m sorry,” He shakes his head. “It’s time to get up.” Relenting, you sit up and drag yourself into the bathroom. He doesn’t stay, he has a class to teach and he knows if he does, you’ll rope him into missing it. 

Thankfully, you only have three classes before you can sit and relax. But things are never that simple inside that damn school, something happened during the period just before lunch. Some telepathic kid messed with the newest kid to join and the kid absolutely destroyed the classroom with his shock waves. He told you it was something about his past and you reassured him it’ll be fine before sending him up to talk with Charles. 

Tragic backstory after tragic backstory, you must’ve thought yourself lucky that your trauma came from the one time you accidentally turned a candle into a stick of dynamite at a historical building during a field trip. 

Not your best moment, you should admit. But the tour guide was being a prick and it’s what you imagined throwing at him. Sorry to the historical building, though, shame it became an arcade like five years later. 

This mutant's anonymous shit wasn’t your speed, sure that’s not what Charles called it (he called it mediation between two students who are having issues), but that’s definitely what it was. Everyone sat in a circle, telling their feelings and instead of some chip to commemorate being a mutant, you’re left to go out on ugly ass spandex and give up your apartment in replace of living amongst traumatized teenagers and more traumatized emotionally stunted adults. 

But hey, you agreed to become a teacher for those same young mutants— you just didn’t expect them to take to you like glue on paper. For fucks sake, you taught them chemistry, far from a friendly subject. You know you hated it when you were their age. And Jean tells you that you’re far from a friendly person, too. Not too sure on how she managed that assessment because there’s a group of teenagers in your office eating and talking. Willingly, during their lunch period. 

There are six of them, one of which is sitting on top of your filing cabinets and eating straight from a cantaloupe. No spoon or anything, just his hands. Never mind the chunks falling on your floor.  

“No, because Todd is totally grinding my gears,” Claire grumbles from the floor. Todd, her boyfriend, definitely wasn’t on your list of best students. “He keeps talking about he’ll be the next leader of the X-men and I’ll be his trophy wife! Trophy wife!” She shouts through a laugh. “He runs fast and I can bend light to my fucking will!” 

“He tried to get with Stacy Ambers,” You hum, stabbing your fork into a piece of chicken. Everything quiets down and they turn to face you, their jaws dropped. “I caught them during class when you went to the bathroom. He ran to give her a note, she giggled and nodded.”

“That sleaze!” Kelly shouts, standing on her knees. “Ugh! And with Sticky-Stacy? As if,” She lowers herself back to the floor and picks up her juice carton. “I say we stick them together in the training room and use them for target practice!”

“Saying stuff like that will get you a week's detention if the Professor hears,” You lazily remind them but you do nothing more to stop that conversation.

“The owner of the school is a telepath,” Derek rolls his eyes. “I’m sure he already knows all the fucked up plans in her noggin’.” 

“Which you shouldn’t be encouraging,” Scott chides from the door. “Come on now, go with the rest of your peers.” The kids groan and pack their things, leaving you and Scott inside the room. He steps inside and shuts the door. 

“I wasn’t encouraging,” You defend, holding your hands up. “I was acting as an outlet to the children, as Charles always drones on and on about.” He smiles and you think, rolls his eyes before he walks over to your desk. 

“That’s not what he meant, and you know it.” 

“What’re gonna do about it, Summers?” You grin, rolling your head to the side as he gets closer. He shrugs and sits on the edge of your desk. Grabbing his thigh, you roll your chair over to him and hang your arms over his legs. “Because it seems like you’re jealous I’m the favorite teacher.” 

“Jealous?” He echos, staring down at you. “Far from it; I’m glad you’re bonding with the children. We know how your temper is.” Frowning, you shove his stomach and lean back in your seat. He tilts his head as though you’ve proved his point and you chuckle, rolling your eyes. 

“Why’d you come anyway? You never visit lil ole me during lunch.” Grabbing your food, he steals a piece and you’re just glad it wasn’t the piece you were eyeing. 

“I do visit,” He rebuts. “I visited you last week. But I wanted to see if you wanted to come with me this Saturday? The Professor wants me to check out a potential mutant fight ring,”

“Hmm,” You pretend to think. “Another mission turned date, I can get down with that. Where is it?” 

“Chicago. Close to the border.” 

“Groovy, I’m in.”  Patting his thigh, you push yourself back to your desk and grab your lesson plan for next week. “Do you think the Professor would be upset if I turned the walls of the classroom into chocolate? For science, of course.”

“Yes, he would. Especially since they’re currently being rebuilt.”

“Aw, man. That was my whole lesson for Monday.” 

“Why don’t you do normal chemistry lessons? Like toothpaste volcanoes or colored fire?” He grabs another piece of your lunch and some of your juice. 

“Firstly; it’s called elephant toothpaste. Secondly, it’s hard keeping them focused in class. Half of the kids already make colored fire!” Taking the juice from him when he’s done, you take a sip. “I mean, I could do normal lessons. But it would bore everyone.”

“How about boring lessons all week but on Friday you do fun stuff like chocolate paperwork or something.” The suggestion is obvious but you take it down all the same, writing that in the corner of a paper to look at when you get back from the mission. 

“Oh, and since classes are canceled because of the incident, we could leave for Chicago now. If you’d like.” 

“Oh man, would I? Let’s go, Summers!” Slapping his shoulder, you run out of the room and head up to pack your bags. 

—

“Can I be honest with you?” You ask while Scott flies the jet. It’s impossibly quiet inside, the unattended chairs and lack of chatter were almost foreign with missions. You’d been walking around, messing with straps, and threatening to turn a chair into water. It didn’t take a genius for Scott to tell you were talking about Logan’s seat. 

“You always are,” He hums and you grin, messing up his hair. He grabs your hand after a second and kisses the back of it before you move to take a seat next to him again. 

Sighing, you kick your feet up on the control panel, careful to not actually press any buttons. “I don’t know your eye color,” You admit, staring at him. Even though you’ve been dating for nearly three years, you’ve yet to see his eyes behind those red frames. You also haven’t seen any childhood photos of him. 

“They’re blue,” He answers with a smile. “I have blue eyes, Alex said they’re blue like the sky. I think they’re blue like Florida oceans.” 

“Blue,” You softly echo, staring at him. “I always thought they were brown.” He laughs and shakes his head. It makes sense, you think. Because of course, he’d have blue eyes, how could you picture him any different? 

“What about yours?” He asks. “It’s hard to tell colors,” You tell him, describing your eyes in the way that you view them. Correlating beautiful things to the shade. “That makes sense. I thought they were gold because of your mutation and that’s what Ororo had told me.”

“Oh, I wish!” You shout. “I’d be so cool, you couldn’t stay away from me if they were.” 

“I can’t stay away from you now,” You chuckle nervously, looking away from him and he just smiles. That asshole just smiles. “I love you, I hope you know that.” He continued just to see your reaction. 

“Yippee,” You respond and immediately cover your face. “Summers, take those glasses off and kill me.” It’s a near beg as you scream into your hands. You, a grown adult, had just uttered the word yippee following a declaration of love from your boyfriend. Oh, how prepubescent. How… emotionally stunted. Oh my god, you’re no better than the other X-men. 

This, this is your trauma. This is what you’ll look back upon and shiver, pushing it deep down in your memories as if it was bad food at a family gathering and the trash was nearly full. 

“I meant,” You shudder. “I love you, too, Summers.”

“Wanna try with my first name?” He asks and you groan. He blinks over at you, his eyebrows clearly raised at your antics. 

“Give them an inch and they’ll ask for a mile!” You joke. “I love you, Scott.” You finally say, looking back at him. He bites his lip as he smiles and you lick yours, nearly forgetting that he’s flying a jet and should not be distracted. Looking away, you see Chicago in the distance and remind yourself that the mission comes first. 

Go, X-Men, Go!

[mncxbe]

Nice 'n slow

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆/𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: smut to fluff♡/ mentions of pms/ excessive use of pet names

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆ Dazai had his arms wrapped snugly around your frame– one keeping your torso flush against his chest the other pressing down on your lower back guiding you lower on his cock. "That's it bella. Feels good? Want me to go faster?" he purred, hot breath dripping on your skin as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. "No baby iss good like this..." The man let out a chuckle, kissing your shoulder. "As you wish baby"

A few hours ago Dazai came home from work to find you sulking on the couch, wearing nothing but one of his old t-shirts and a pair of black panties. The moment you saw him you started complaining about how bad your cramps were getting. "It's really not fair" you whined "I already get the worst cramps during my period why do I have to deal with pms too?" Your loving boyfriend did his best to soothe you; made you a cup hot chocolate, cuddled you for a while but the pain just wouldn't go away. So he did the next best thing he had in mind– made sure that you came all over his cock.

His thrusts were slow and deep, loving even, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix with each movement. He wasn't normally this gentle but he didn't want to tire you out even more. "I got you pretty girl just relax." Humming in approval you nuzzled your face against his neck, your moans and soft whimpers muffled by his skin. Your fingers were locked in his chocolate brown hair, gently tugging at his roots– just how he liked it. Honestly, this couldn't be more perfect.

You were on cloud nine, breathing softly, your eyes half lidded as you rolled your hips against his. With one particular thrust Dazai's tip hit your sweet spot, making you tense up. He immediately caught on to it and repeated the motion, making you cry out "'samu... not there".

"Oh yes sweet girl right there" he said in a sweet and lowkey condescending tone before moving his hands to your hips to keep you in place. You whined in protest and tried to raise yourself off his chest but he quickly shushed you "Baby– be good and stay here. Need ya to relax so I can take care of ya~ ah f-fuck". He picked up the pace a bit, abusing your sweet spot with each thrust. Your arms gave out and you fell back on his chest, panting softly. It was delirious– your whole body felt weak in his arms, slowly giving into the pleasure he was so graciously granting you. Squelching noises and ragged moans bounced off the walls of your bedroom as he pushed you closer to your high.

"Shiit sweet girl pussy's so good~" he groaned, bucking his hips against yours "Such an angel aren't ya? Yea, you are c'mon pretty baby cum for me. Make a mess on my cock" His praise and sweet encouragements did it for you and you came. hard. your slick coated his length, dripping down onto the sheets below as you joled in pleasure, arching your back. Dazai cooed sweet words into your ear, one of his hands working up and down your back as he kept pumping inside you.

"Shh baby just a bit more 'm close too. You can take it" And so you closed your eyes, trying to push away the burning sensation in your core. Your walls squeezed down on him, sucking him in so perfectly that it didn't take long for him to cum too. His cum spurted into your hole warm against your gooey walls. Still, even after cumming he didn't pull out, simply keeping himself sheated inside of you.

Sighing softly, your boyfriend ran his fingers through your hair. "Feeling better sweetie?" he asked, sugary voice dripping with affection.

"Yea, a bit. Thanks 'samu it doesn't hurt as bad now" you mumbled sleepily, feeling the pain in your belly slowly wash away. "I'll be damned, it worked. Gotta thank Ranpo for the tip" he added, laughing.

You raised your head off his chest, giving him a quizzical look. "Ranpo told you to make me cum if I have cramps?"

"Well... not really. He suggested it, said something about relieving your muscles and releasing hormones." he shrugged, pushing your head back down on his chest "Not like I know, honestly. I'm better in practice than theory"

His comment made you chuckle softly as you ruffled his hair. "That you are Osamu. That you are...". Closing your eyes you allowed yourself to fully relax in his warm embrace. Now that you were free from pain you started feeling the strain of your session and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

All the while your boyfriend smiled down at you, his gaze taking in your figure; you looked so pretty like that– sprawled on top of him with your face mushed up against his bandaged chest. He could feel the slow rise and fall of your ribcage under his fingertips and wondered what on earth he did to deserve someone like you... "Goodnight bella. Love you" he whispered. Kissing your forehead he pulled the crisp duvet over you, sheltering you from the cold air in the bedroom before closing his eyes.