#but what if I started screaming every stupid ass thought

[endwersed]

WIP Whenever

Tagged by the wonderful @hedwig221b 🩷

I'm giving my brain a (brief, I promise!) break from my current WIP to work on the start of the top voted idea from my recent long fic poll - thank you to everyone who joined in with that! My planned next story is going to be an ABO neighbours AU, where Derek is a firefighter and Stiles is a single parent. I've actually got the whole first scene already done, so... here's that! 😊

-

It is already gone midnight by the time Derek stumbles into his apartment building, exhaustion running bone deep as he crosses the lobby as quickly as his aching legs and weary feet will carry him. The imposing wall of mailboxes slides quickly past his consciousness as he steams by, the key to his own bitingly sharp where it digs into the meat of his thigh through his pocket, but he won’t take the time to stop and check it. Not tonight. Not with every strained muscle in his body screaming at him to dump himself into bed as soon as is physically possible.

Stuttering to a stop before the chipped-metal doors of the elevator, he summons what truly feels like every ounce of strength left within him to raise a hand up to the little grey button to his left. It takes him a moment of slow, sluggish, heavy blinks before he notices that grey has not shifted green, is not lit up with the promise of an imminent arrival. It takes a few moments more for him to realise there is a note, taped up to the door before his sapped-stupid face.

OUT OF ORDER

There it is. Spelled out right there, right in front of him. A stark white sheet of paper, blocked out with this bold, bright, blood-red lettering that makes his temples throb that kick harder. Out of fucking order.

“Fuck,” he mutters out loud, stinging eyes shut as he palms at his forehead. “Can today get any fucking worse?”

A question as rhetorical as it is futile. It’s not like there is anybody around to answer him.

His teeth grind together as his hand falls away from his face, dropping to hang limply down at his side. It is a real, genuine internal struggle to fight against the agitated claws that want to slice through his fingertips, and it is only his years of practice that keep them buried inside his skin, keep his palms safe from anything worse than the blunt score of ordinary nails.

Forcing his eyes open again, he twists away from the broken elevator and stomps the few paces it takes to be able to push through the solid door that leads him into the dimly lit stairwell.

Eight-oh-two. The number to his apartment, all the way up on the eighth goddamn floor. This truth puts an unreasonable and infuriating number of steps between his drained body and the familiar comforts of home right now.

Back when he first moved into this place, a little over a year ago, signing on for an apartment on one of the highest floors hadn’t even registered as a thought, as something worth even taking notice of. He is a werewolf, after all, with werewolf strength and werewolf stamina. An alpha werewolf, at that, and with all of the preternatural advantages that come along with that particular status. A few measly flights of stairs were nothing, not to him.

That arrogance is coming back around to bite him in the ass now, though. He was perhaps a little too hasty when he signed his name on that dotted line; perhaps lacking in the foresight needed to anticipate the apparent inevitably of returning home off the back of the shift from hell, only to find himself staring down the barrel of concrete stair after concrete stair after concrete goddamn stair.

He bites back the fatigued groan that wants to rip from his chest and lifts his leg to drop the first boot down onto the first step. Fantastic. Now only a hundred fucking more to go.

Climbing and climbing, heavy footstep after heavy footstep, his entire body singing its raucous protest with each and every stride onwards and upwards. He makes it up one flight, then two, then three and four and five, and it is when he is turning the corner for the sixth, rolling his neck to stretch out the deep crick in his joints, that his ears catch onto a nearby sound, quiet and unexpected.

It sounds like… shit. It sounds like a kid. It sounds like a child, a boy, young and scared and alone, definitely nowhere near old enough to be roaming the halls of this not-very-nice apartment building in their not-very-nice neighbourhood, this late at night and without any supervision.

Instantly, Derek stops short. He tilts his head to the side and holds his breath, listening, tuning into the sound of the boy humming a tune that Derek does not recognise, softly and shakily. The footsteps that Derek can hear are light, aimless and hesitant. The siren call of home, of bed, leaves him in a flash. He turns to follow where his ears can lead him.

With each hurried pace forwards, with each hastily rounded bend, the sound grows louder, easier to pinpoint. The humming in constant, quiet and rhythmically repetitive, but those footsteps falter, more than a few times, halting with a short catch of breath, a skipped beat of a heart. As Derek draws closer, his nose wrinkles around the sharp, sour scent of fear.

The kid isn’t far now. Derek can tell, because the boy has stopped moving entirely. Listening in to the faint thump of a back hitting a wall, the slow slide of fabric against painted plaster as the boy slides down it, another soft thud as he meets the carpeted floor beneath. He carries on humming, never deviating from that same, lilting tune. But Derek can still hear the small, broken, hiccupping sobs, choked and breathless in a way that makes Derek’s heart clench, makes him break into a speed he would not have considered himself capable of, only moments ago.

He is practically sprinting as he crosses that final stretch, pushing through another set of heavy doors and out into the hallway of a floor he has never ventured to before, until – he finds him.

Curled up on the floor, with his knees tucked up to his chin and his arms wound tightly around his shins, is the child. He cannot be much older than six, if that. He is wearing pyjamas, fire trucks printed all over the soft cotton pants, a large one taking up the middle of his chest. His brown hair is a messy mop on top of his head, sticking up wildly close to his temples, and his face is pale around his flushed cheeks, spilled tears staining tracks against his skin.

It is clear that the boy hasn’t noticed him yet. Derek can tell from the way his face stays buried against his legs, his wet eyes screwed shut and his lower lip wobbling with his tears. Derek slows himself down to a cautious kind of pace, careful to press on with light feet to avoid spooking the boy with any sudden noises.

At only a few steps away, Derek pauses, keeping his hands held out in front of him. He silently curses himself for not bothering to take the time to shower and change back at the station. He doesn’t need a mirror in front of him to remember that his white tank top is a mess of black soot, his face smudged with smoke and dirt. He knows that he hardly looks like the kind of adult a frightened little kid is likely to trust.

He has to give it a try, anyway.

“Hey,” he says gently, and the boy’s wide eyes snap up to look at him. “Are you lost?”

Now, Derek is not typically very good with kids. Something about him tends to just… scare them. Laura says it’s his face. Derek generally tells her to fuck off. He doesn’t necessarily disagree, though. Today, add in the fact that the last fire of the night left him looking like, well, this, and he finds himself at even more of a disadvantage than usual.

No answer comes from the boy. He simply blinks up at Derek, his eyes red and damp. He sniffs, a breath that trembles as he pulls it in, and he unwraps one arm from his legs to wipe at his cheek with the edge of one sleeve. His heart beats unsteadily as the scent of his fear takes on a bitter, panicky edge.

Derek lowers himself down to the ground, dropping down to his haunches, intentionally unhurried. He meets the boy at his level and does everything he can to look even just a little less terrifying than Laura always tells him his resting face is.

“It’s okay,” he tries again, hands clasping between his knees. “I just want to help you. Do you live in this building?”

A heavy beat passes in silence. He breaks into a soft smile when the boy finally gives him a slow nod.

“That’s good, that’s great,” he carries on. “Do you remember what floor you live on?”

This time, the boy shakes his head. The corners of his mouth turn down, his eyes growing watery again, the air salty with nearly shed tears as his chin wobbles. Derek takes one look at the boy’s distress and has to swallow around a thick lump in his throat, forcing the reassuring smile at his mouth not to waver.

“It’s okay, that’s fine, we can figure this out together.” He presses an open palm against his own chest. “My name is Derek. Can you tell me your name?”

Another pause. A good few seconds where the boy simply peers at him, merely stares with those big, brown, tearful eyes, so full of nerves, wide open with apprehension. Derek makes sure to hold the boy’s gaze steadily, not allowing the curve of his mouth to slip. He waits quietly, patiently, as the boy sniffs again, chin still trembling as he tilts it up into the air.

“Johnny,” he says.

His voice is so small, shaking as he speaks. Derek lets his smile open around his teeth.

“It’s nice to meet you, Johnny.” He nods down to Johnny’s shirt. “Do you like fire trucks?”

Johnny blinks owlishly at him for a second, before returning that smile with full force. His grin is huge, crooked and gap-toothed, and the scent of fear dissipates so quickly that Derek actually finds himself a little taken aback at such an abrupt shift in emotion.

“I love fire trucks,” Johnny says, with all of the childish sincerity in the world. “Did you know not all fire trucks are red? Sometimes they’re yellow, or green!”

Derek bites at the inside of his cheek, a slight ripple across his shoulders with his soft laughter.

“I did not know that,” he replies. “I’m a firefighter.”

Johnny’s jaw goes slack immediately. Derek doesn’t bother tamping down his next breath of laughter.

“That is so cool.” Johnny pushes forwards onto his knees, hands flat to the itchy carpet as he inches a little nearer. “Do you get to ride in the trucks?”

“I do,” Derek says.

“That is so cool,” Johnny repeats breathlessly.

Derek can feel his eyes crinkling with the spread of his smile, head tilting as he takes in Johnny’s earnest excitement. This kid is absolutely adorable, he cannot help but think. His parents must be missing him very much, if they’ve woken up and realised he has disappeared into the middle of the night.

“How did you end up out here?” Derek asks.

The easy smile falls away from Johnny’s lips at the question, pressing into a tight line instead, his eyebrows drawing quickly together. His eyes drift just over Derek’s shoulder, sliding to somewhere behind him, and Derek follows his gaze with a twist of his neck, finding himself staring through the window on the opposite wall, the night out beyond it black with darkness and white with stars.

“I couldn’t see the moon,” Johnny says when Derek turns back to him, his voice melted soft and scared once again. “I just wanted to see the moon, but then I got lost, and papa always says I should sing my lullaby and find a nice person to help if I get lost, but then I couldn’t find anyone, and I don’t know how to get home, and I –“

“Hey, hey,” Derek comes soothingly in, two palms held placatingly out. “It’s okay now. You found me, and I’m going to help you.”

Biting down on his bottom lip with the one front tooth he has left, Johnny nods. He chews for a quiet second, tilting his head slightly as he considers Derek, before crawling that tiny bit closer, still on his hands and knees.

“You live next door,” he says, quiet but confident. “I remember.”

Derek blinks. He doesn’t recognise this kid at all, cannot honestly say he has ever seen him before. He isn’t exactly pally with his neighbours, though. He isn’t exactly pally with anybody except his sister. Hell, he’s barely even pally with her.

Vaguely, he does recall that he got some new neighbours, a couple of new people moving into the vacant apartment beside him, maybe just a little under a month ago now. Now that he thinks about, he is relatively certain that it was a guy, an omega, a single parent with a young kid. It would make Derek’s job of getting Johnny home a whole lot easier, if true.

“Are you sure?” Derek asks.

Johnny nods, quick and sure.

“I’m sure,” he answers. “You have a doggy. He’s brown and he has floppy ears and you call him Buddy.”

Oh. Okay. Well, that clears that up, then.

“You’re right. I do have a dog called Buddy.” Derek puts his smile back in place as he extends a hand out. “Can I take you home now?”

Derek can sense Johnny’s hesitation even before he smells the faint wave of worry in the air.

“My papa says I shouldn’t go with strangers,” Johnny mumbles.

“Your papa’s right,” Derek replies immediately. “But I’m your neighbour, and I just want to make sure you get back home safely. Is that okay?”

One more long pause. One final slow nod. Johnny fits his small hand into Derek’s palm, fingers curling around Derek’s knuckles, taking Derek’s help as he clambers to his feet, limbs clumsy as he arranges himself into a standing position. Derek rises up with him, rolling up to full height and finding that the boy barely comes up to his waist.

A tilt of his head lets Johnny look up at Derek. That lopsided smile is back on his face as their eyes meet. He keeps his firm grip on Derek’s hand as they stand together.

“Okay,” he says. “I’d like to go home.”

“Okay,” Derek echoes back. “Let’s get you home.”

Any earlier exhaustion has faded into nonexistence as they climb the stairs in tandem. Johnny chatters away about what seems to amount to literally anything and everything that comes into his mind, and Derek is more than content to simply listen as they ascend, supplying a little him here or a quiet ah there, just to make sure Johnny knows he’s still listening.

It is only a few more flights until they reach their floor, Derek swinging the door open for Johnny to pull him through. Derek leads them deftly through winding halls, all the way to the far end, where Derek knows his apartment is, and, apparently, Johnny and his papa’s, too.

“Derek,” Johnny says, tugging at an attention he never actually lost, Derek humming an acknowledgement, anyway. “Can I meet your doggy?”

“Not tonight.” Derek holds back a laugh at the immediate pout that juts Johnny’s lower lip out. “We need to get you home, your papa will be worried about you. You can meet Buddy another time.”

Johnny’s eyes go wide as he gapes up at Derek. Derek smiles back down at him.

“You promise?” Johnny asks.

“I promise,” Derek vows.

A few more paces, and then they are coming to a stop in front of a closed door. Johnny falls quiet all at once as they stand before it, chipped metal numbers nailed into the wood, reading out a number close to Derek’s. Eight-oh-three. He wastes no time in raising a fist and knocking just beneath them.

Seconds pass. He does not hear even a shuffle of movement coming from inside. Maybe Johnny’s father is out. Maybe he woke up and discovered his kid missing and is out looking for him, roaming these halls in search of his wayward son. Derek tightens his hold on Johnny’s hand and knocks again.

This time around, something stirs to life on the other side. Bedsheets rustling, a lamp flicking on. A grumbled curse under breath and bare footsteps padding along a wooden floor. The click of a lock, a moment before the door inches cautiously open.

It really is just that, though – an inch. There is barely enough space between the door and its frame for Derek to peer through, to see into the darkness of the quiet apartment, to make out the shape of a sleep rumpled figure standing just inside, narrowed eyes fixing Derek with their suspicious gaze. If Derek didn’t have his superior vision, this would mostly be a blur to him, right now.

He is a werewolf, though. He can see what humans can’t.

The omega in front of him is clearly just roused from a deep sleep. His dark hair is a mess, entirely reminiscent of his son’s, and he is wearing nothing but a loose t-shirt, falling down slightly over one bony shoulder, a pair of boxer briefs keeping him modest on his lower half. He has freckles sweeping across the soft slope of his nose, moles dotting the height of his cheekbones, a sharp jaw and a pink mouth, currently pulled all the way down into a severe sort of frown. Even in these shadows, Derek can see that Johnny gets his big, brown, soulful eyes from his papa.

Absently, Derek wonders how the hell he didn’t notice an omega who looks like this moving in next door. He pushes the thought quickly aside and plasters a trustworthy smile onto his face.

“Yeah?” Johnny’s father prompts, his voice sleep-rough and palpably impatient.

“Uh, hi,” Derek says. “I think I found something that belongs to you.”

Derek tips his head pointedly down towards the space just at his side. He watches on as the guy follows with sceptical, unhappy eyes, right up until they take in the sight of his son, still holding tightly onto Derek’s hand, pressing firmly up against Derek’s leg. The very moment his gaze lands there, is widens with shock, not a second passing before he is swinging the door abruptly open with the harsh knock of his shoulder.

The heart beating away behind his ribcage ratchets into overdrive. The scent filling the air snaps instantly into fear.

“Johnny!” His face shifts into fury as he stares at Derek with apparent disgust. He reaches out immediately to snatch Johnny’s hand out of Derek’s, pulling the boy quickly into the apartment even as he still sneers at Derek. “What the fu– heck, dude? Who are you and why do you have my son?”

Derek takes a sensible step backwards as he throws two palms up.

“I found him downstairs,” he hastens to explain. “I was just helping him get back home, that’s all.”

“Derek lives next door, papa,” Johnny chimes in, blinking up at his father with a dopey grin, free arm clinging around the leg nearest to him. “He has the doggy. You remember the doggy, right, papa? The one with the ears?”

For a second, Johnny’s father just blinks right back down at him. His teeth grit together as he lifts the hand not gripping onto Johnny’s to scrub roughly over his face, skating up to run through his messy hair afterwards. His mouth purses around a shuddering sigh as he leans down towards his son.

“What were you doing downstairs in the first place, kid?” he asks.

It doesn’t look like Johnny wants to answer that one. Not for his father, at least. He drops his head to stare at where his socked feet are scuffing into the wooden floors, his mouth studiously shut and his eyes fixed anywhere but at his worried papa. Derek wonders just how many times this kid has gotten in trouble for pulling stunts like this before.

“He said he wanted to see the moon.” Derek isn’t entirely sure why he hasn’t backed off for his own apartment just yet, but he jumps in to help explain, all the same. The omega’s sharp gaze snaps back to him and Derek tries not to let himself be too bothered by the mistrust in his eyes. “I think he just got a little lost. Right, Johnny?”

“Uh huh,” Johnny mumbles, still not looking up.

Johnny’s father’s mouth is parted as his eyes swing between Derek and his son.

“He wanted to see the…” He trails off with a shake of his head, a crease between his eyebrows as a sigh pushes out from his lips. He drops down into a crouch, lifting a finger to crook beneath Johnny’s chin to tilt his head back up. “Johnny. What have I told you about wandering off without me?”

“Not to do it,” Johnny whispers.

“Exactly,” Johnny’s father breathes. “So why, kid?”

Instantly, Johnny’s chin wobbles. Derek genuinely has no idea how this kid’s father stays strong in the face of that. Especially not when his eyes go glassy, eyelashes starting to clump wetly together.

“I’m sorry, papa,” he says quietly.

Johnny’s father pulls him into a tight, quick hug. He lets Johnny press in closer, lets him tuck his little face into his neck, the fingers of one hand carding gently through the dark mess of Johnny’s hair. Derek simply watches silently, helplessly, and a little awkwardly, on.

“Don’t cry, sweetie,” Johnny’s father says softly. “I’m not mad. I just – I need you to be safe. Okay?”

“Okay,” Johnny sniffs wetly. “I am sorry, papa.”

“I know you are.” Johnny’s father presses his mouth to Johnny’s temple, a moment of touch before he pulls out of the hug just enough to look Johnny in the eye. “Now, I want you to go into your room and get back into bed. I’ll be in in just a minute so we can talk a little more. You understand?”

“Yes, papa.” Johnny turns his gaze up to Derek with a small, still tearful smile. “Thank you for helping me. I can’t wait to meet your doggy.”

“You’re more than welcome.” Derek offers a real, genuine smile in return. “I’m sure Buddy can’t wait to meet you, too.”

Sparing a final, impish, excitable grin in Derek’s direction, Johnny allows his father to guide him further inside the apartment with a firm hand pressing against his back. He throws an overly enthusiastic wave over his shoulder as he disappears into the darkness. Derek can’t help the fond smile that sticks to his mouth as he watches the kid go.

That smile slips entirely when he tears his gaze back to the boy’s father. This guy looks decidedly less impressed by Derek than Johnny did. With one eyebrow arched, he folds his arms defensively over his chest, pinning Derek in place with a long, hard, parental sort of frown, a clear accusation clinging to its edges.

“So,” he says. “You.”

Derek feels his eyebrows shoot halfway up his forehead.

“Me?” he replies. “What about me?”

The omega catches his tongue between his teeth. His big, brown eyes are narrowed down to slits.

“You just happened to be lurking the halls at,” he pauses to glance at something on the wall beside him, “one o’clock in the freaking morning?”

Derek forces himself to stay rigidly still, forces himself not to give into the almost overwhelming urge to capitulate into some kind of false confession under this guy’s harsh unwavering glare. He tips his chin up and shoves his hands as nonchalantly as he can into the depths of his pockets.

Even more so than his first encounter with Johnny, he is achingly aware of how the events of his shift have left him looking right about now.

“I work down at the fire station.” Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t get anywhere near the levels of enthusiasm from Johnny’s father as he did from Johnny when he reveals this career path. “I was just getting home from a shift when I heard him walking around on his own. Figured he could use some help.”

Johnny’s father purses his mouth, openly appraising Derek with the slow drag of his eyes. They sweep down and up the length of him, from his old jeans to his dirty tank to his smoky face. Eventually, the omega blows a sharp breath out through the slight parting of his lips, letting his eyes widen from their suspicious squint, at least just a little.

“Fine,” he sighs out. “I guess I should probably say… thank you, then.”

Derek scoffs a laugh at the complete absence of sincerity in his tone. He gives a short, disbelieving shake of his head as he stares incredulously back at this guy.

“Don’t strain something on my account,” he replies drily, before letting his own eyes narrow right back. “You know, you’ve got a good kid there. Smart. He only agreed to let me help him because he recognised me as your neighbour.”

Johnny’s father clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He rolls his eyes as he uncrosses his arms, letting them hang loosely down at his sides.

“Yeah,” he mutters. “He’s obsessed with your dog.”

“I gathered that.” Derek hesitates a second before ploughing on. “He really is welcome to meet him, if he wants. If it’s okay with you.”

It looks as though Johnny’s father barely even registers this offer. He waves a flippant hand in the air between their chests.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” he says. “Look, it’s late. Thanks for not turning out to be a creep, I guess. I’ll see you around.”

Derek already has his mouth open around a response. A cutting, caustic, offended retort to this guy’s apparent indifference, apparent agitation, that Derek literally jut helped his son get safely back home. But, before a single word can pass through his gritted teeth, the door slams shut, right in his face. Echoingly loud and blatantly final, leaving Derek standing out alone in the harshly lit hallway.

He sighs. He was looking forward to getting his ass home, he supposes.

Digging his keys out of his pocket and only grumbling under his breath a little bit, he takes a quick sidestep until he can stand in front of his own front door, until he can shove the key into the lock and twist his wrist to kick it open. He hears the instant shift of Buddy waking up inside, soft paws against the wooden floor as he pads from his bed in the corner over to where Derek is stepping over the threshold.

The door snicks shut behind him as he crouches, scratching fingers going right to the spot behind Buddy’s ear that he loves. He is granted a low rumble and a wagging tail for his troubles.

“Hey, Buddy,” he greets. “I met a big fan of yours tonight.”

Buddy pulls his head away from Derek’s hand in favour of rolling himself onto the floor, belly-up in open invitation. Derek breathes out a laugh even as he immediately dives in to give pets as so politely requested. He lets his mind drift to next door as his fingers move through soft fur.

He wonders just how much of a scolding Johnny must be getting right now. He hopes the kid will actually listen this time around, will actually let the warning to not go roaming around the building late at night ever again on his own sink in. He tries to imagine how Johnny’s father must be feeling, scared and relieved all at once, such an instant flood of overwhelming emotion at being handed the kid he hadn’t even realised he had lost.

It would explain why he was so rude to Derek, just now.

Or maybe he’s just a dick. Who knows?

Either way – there is no point dwelling on it. In all honesty, that is very likely the first and last interaction that he will ever have with that pair, with that father and son, that omega and his kid. Derek should be putting his mind to more important things right now, like getting his ass into the shower, and then getting his ass into bed, precisely where it should have been a damn while ago already.

“C’mon,” he says as he stands up, Buddy rising with him. “Time for bed.”

If he happens to dream of big, brown eyes and a panting, pink mouth…

Well. That’s nobody’s business but his.

-

Low pressure tags! @crownofstardustandbone @dear-massacre @demonicfaerie @eevylynn @like-lazarus

@lucky-bishop @patolemus @raisesomehale @seaweed-water @violetfairydust

[sheocheese]

what if I became extremely unhinged and annoying

[monstersflashlight]

Hi me again here |˶˙ᵕ˙ )ﾉﾞ

Loved your little piece about the forest entity, so you'd make me very happy with a second part :)

Tentacles and forest monsters are just soo good <3

So yeah, I'll keep looking and loving your writing, thanks for all your amazing work ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Hi! Thank you so much for your compliments, that’s so sweet! Here you have it a little bit of filth <3 Part 1 is here, if someone needs a refresher.

Plant toy

Forest entity x fem!human || tentacles (vines), bondage, edging, oral sex, double penetration, gagging, nipple clamps

You had no idea what compelled you into going back to the forest, but there you were, wearing a skimpy outfit and walking around without any reason. You felt stupid, but also a bit excited. A bit turned on. The opportunity of finding the forest entity that fucked you too good to pass. You wanted a repeat… Well, more like you needed a repeat.

In the past couple weeks since it happened, you couldn’t think of anything else, your brain was completely stuck on him. (You didn’t miss the joke about being stuck on a tree-hole just to end up being stuck on a forest entity). Every second of every day you wanted to feel him again, to feel those vines and roots against your body, constricting your movements and leaving you at his mercy.

It was exhilarating, but the memory was not enough anymore. You burned down the batteries on two of your sex toys and had not enough energy to keep looking for more fun ways to get yourself off. Nothing was as good as the vines, nothing was as good as him.

So there you were, getting lost in the forest. On purpose this time.

You wandered for what felt like hours, until your body was tired and your anticipation dissipated into a more real sense of fear. You didn’t know where you were, if he didn’t show up at some point you’d be lost in the forest without a way to find your way back. You felt like you were walking in circles, unable to see anything as the sun started to set. Real panic started to fill your insides.

“You are lost and scared once again, but this time you have done this to yourself… Why?” His voice startled you, and you screamed. As you turned around, the vision of his strange face calmed you completely. He was there. He came for you.

A rush of adrenaline filled your body and your panties got wet. Fuck, that ethereal voice was messing with your libido big time. “I- I was looking for you.” You told him, voice caught in your throat as some vines and roots bloomed from the ground beneath your feet and lifted your body, undressing you in the process.

“For me? Why?” His utter confusion would have been cute if you weren’t suspended in the air with wines holding your arms and legs apart.

“I don’t know.” That was a weak ass response and you knew it. He tilted his head to the side like he was trying to decipher your whole soul with a look. Maybe he was doing exactly that, how would you know. “Okay, okay… I- I wanted a repeat,” you confessed in a murmur.

“Of what, human?” His uncanny features made your insides twist and turn, but also made you even more curious to know more about him. “There’s no balance to be restored now. Are you making a free offer to the forest?” He added. You didn’t think of that. You didn’t think of anything apart from getting fucked again. You were so dumb. Your face flushed at the acknowledgment that you got lost on purpose just to get fucked by vines. How freaky was that?

“I- Yes! Yes. That’s it,” you agreed, without really knowing what that would entitle. “I want… I want you to do that again… with the vines.” Your face burned as you said it.

Said vines took on their own and started caressing your body, like he wasn’t controlling them, as if they were a living organism on their own. That filled you with an unsettled feeling, but part of you liked that thought. Part of you wanted to be at the mercy of some mindless plant organism.

He turned around, not looking at you. Disappointed had a sour taste against your mouth. “I see…” He was leaving. He was leaving you there without even looking twice at you. Without an explanation.

“Wait! Are you going to leave me here?” You asked, panicked. Your heart was beating so fast you could hear it in your ears. The spike of fear mixed with anticipation and arousal, leaving you breathless.

“I need to retrieve something, I’ll be back.” Just as he was saying that, some more vines appeared in front of you and stuff your mouth until you couldn’t answer back, like a plant gag.

He left you there, mouth stuffed with vines and your body suspended in the air by plant-acles (plant tentacles?). As soon as he disappeared, the vines took a turn. More vines and roots appeared around you, touching you. Caressing every inch of your body. The ones in your mouth started thrusting into your throat until you were gagging and salivating around them. It felt like the messiest blowjob of your life as some more vines and roots caressed your nipples and clit. It was exhilarating.

But they wouldn’t finish you. The tentacles around you played with your sensitive areas, pinching, caressing, sucking… You were thrown against the edge a thousand times, but they never let you cross it. The vines moved and caressed around you, tightening and releasing parts of your body. It was maddening, the unfulfilled pleasure was driving you completely insane. Over and over for what felt like hours but was probably less than twenty minutes, the vines edged you until every caress felt like it was going to make you explode. But it didn’t. They didn’t let you.

When he reappeared in front of you, you could have sobbed. If you weren’t already crying because of the overstimulation and the edging. Tears ran freely down your face, mixing with the drool around the plant-gag fucking your throat. You felt used. And you enjoyed it, like the little pervert you were.

He looked at you for a few seconds, “I shouldn’t have left them unsupervised. My apologies, human.” His apology sounded a lot like a non-apology. He wasn’t sorry at all, he consciously left you there with wild vines edging you, the little smirk playing at the corner of his mouth was answer enough. “I found the compass.” You didn’t know what he was talking about, but the vines wouldn’t stop moving and you felt ready to explode. You wanted to scream at him, to beg him to end the torture to your senses and let you come. But he kept talking. “Now you would be able to find me,” he explained. He looked at you expecting an answer you were unable to provide. “Oh, the vines…” He moved his hand and the vines fucking your throat retracted.

You breathed deep before chanting: “Please, please, please…” You were unable to form any more words as you screamed and begged for release. “Please let me come. Pleaseeeee!”

“It’s okay, human. I’m here,” he told you softly.

His words sounded ominous, and maybe you should have trusted your instincts because before you realized, the vines around you were morphing and moving. Some of them constricted around your nipples, acting as improvised nipple clamps as he approached step by step to your naked and restricted body. He stood there for a few seconds, admiring his vine work.

And then, he raised his hand and you cried out. For the first time ever, he touched you. His fingers caressed the skin of your abdomen and made a trail lower and lower… When his finger touched your clit, you screamed at the top of your lungs. “None of that, you don’t want to bother the little animals, do you?” He didn’t give you time to react, he conjured a new vine around your head and gagged you.

That wasn’t the only new vine, soon enough there was one curling around your leg, approaching your center. He cooed at you when you whimpered, shushing you as he caressed your hair softly, his other hand still circling your clit.

The tender gesture was such a contrast with the sexual torture he was inflicting on your poor human body. You were dizzy by it. It was maddening. And when the vine pushed into your hungry cunt, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You groaned and moaned as he kept fucking you restlessly.

You were lost in the pleasure he was giving you. So lost that the first touch of a vine against your asshole caught you off guard. You tried to scream, but he wasn’t having any of that. The gag around your mouth pressed harder as you whimpered around it. You were breathing so hard you feared hyperventilation, but his soft touches to your side kept you focused. Bit by bit, the vine pushed inside your asshole until it was fully seated.

And just like that, it began. In perfect sync, the vines inside your pussy and ass started fucking you. It was better than anything you’d ever felt. It was so much more than you thought you could take. But he didn’t ask, he gave and you took.

He was looking at you with such intensity you felt hyperaware of every twitch, every groan and every bit of saliva you let out around the gag. But he still didn’t let you come.

“Just a bit more, human, you are doing great,” his voice was soft as he moved his hands to direct the vines around your body. In and out. In and out. They fucked you in tandem as he looked at you like you were his prize.

His encouragements were making you see stars and a thousand different lights behind your eyes. The assault to your senses so deep and profound you didn’t know how to feel anymore. You didn’t know if it was too much, if it was too little. You could only feel the vines moving in and out of your holes, the stretch and pressure of it against all your sensitive spots.

“Come for me human, give me your offering.” Like a magic word, you exploded on a thousand pieces as your body melted against the vines, a splash of your juices showering everything around you. “That’s, such a good human for me.” That was the last thing you heard before you blacked out.

You woke up next to your car, re-dressed and with a shiny compass next to you.

[hoshifighting]

gym rat roommate!seungcheol

— WARNINGS: smut, seungkwan accidentally catch you naked (seungcheol's fault), oral (f. receiving), seungcheol cums untouched, ''begging'', reader tries to be unbothered as seungcheol eats her out, mentions of anabolics jokes and etc. — WC: 3.2k

you never thought sharing a dorm with a leo would be this damn exhausting. when you both got assigned to the same room, you thought it’d be fine—no big deal, just another dude trying to get through college, right? wrong. seungcheol is the textbook definition of a gym rat, spending half his life lifting weights, and the other half driving you insane.

“can you not leave your towel on the bed?” you huff, staring at the damp mess he’s made.

“it’ll dry,” he shrugs, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

“not the point,” you mutter, tossing the towel into the bathroom.

and then there’s the cabinets. oh god, the cabinets. every time he makes his stupid whey protein shake, it’s like he forgets how to close them. it’s a small thing, but it drives you up the wall.

“are you allergic to shutting doors or something?” you ask, eyebrow raised as you gesture at the open cabinets.

“didn’t realize it bothered you so much,” he says, smirking, which only makes you want to strangle him more.

but the stove? that’s where you draw the line. the dude can wash dishes, sure, but he leaves the stove looking like a battlefield, grease splatters and all.

“seriously, seungcheol, you gonna clean that or what?” you snap, pointing at the mess.

“i’ll get to it,” he replies lazily, which means it’s gonna sit there until you can’t take it anymore and do it yourself.

you two bicker like this all the time, the tension simmering just below the surface. it doesn’t help that he’s constantly complaining about your hair everywhere, or the makeup you leave on the sink when you’re rushing out the door.

“do you shed on purpose?” he grumbles, vacuuming for the third time that week.

“do you have to be such a neat freak?” you shoot back, rolling your eyes.

and don’t even get started on the tv. whenever you switch from his boring sports channels to something decent, like a reality show, he acts like you’ve committed a crime.

“i was watching that,” he says, voice low and annoyed.

“yeah, well, this is more interesting,” you retort, settling in for your dose of drama.

the only time you get any peace is when he’s at the gym, and those hours are like heaven. just pure, blissful silence. and for him? the few hours when you’re at your dance classes must be the only moments he’s not silently cursing your existence.

you always wished for a quiet roommate. not that seungcheol was loud—no, he wasn’t a screamer or anything, but his friends? they never left. you couldn't catch a break from the constant parade of guys stomping through your shared dorm like it was their second home. jihoon, one of seungcheol’s quieter friends, was looking for a new roommate at one point, and you almost packed your bags right then and there. the guy was a dream—silent as a ghost and didn’t have a herd of dudes wandering around the place like it was a frat house.

but nope, you were stuck with seungcheol, who never bothered to warn you before letting his friends take over the living room.

and that’s how you ended up in this mess.

seungcheol had left a few minutes ago for the gym, and you were enjoying the peace, taking a long, hot bath. everything was fine until you realized—you forgot your towel. with no one home, you figured it’d be safe to dash to your room and grab it. big mistake.

thinking the coast is clear, you slip out of the bathroom, water dripping off your skin, and make a dash for your room. just as you reach the hallway, freezing your ass off, you hear it—a rustling from the kitchen. before you can even react, seungkwan rounds the corner, a cup in hand, and both of you freeze.

“AHHHHH!”

you both scream like you’ve just seen a ghost, or, you know, each other naked. you bolt for your room, slamming the door shut behind you.

you can hear the guys in the living room getting startled, their conversation cutting off abruptly as seungkwan yells, “don’t come in here! for the love of god, stay put!” you imagine him standing there, one hand clapped over his eyes, traumatized for life—or not lmao.

from the safety of your room, you yell at the top of your lungs, “CHOI SEUNGFUCKING-CHEOL!”

you don’t leave your bedroom until you’re absolutely sure they’ve all left. you can hear them shuffling around, and then, finally, silence. when seungcheol knocks on your door, you yank it open, eyes burning with rage, and immediately start pounding on his chest.

“what the hell did i do?!” he asks, bewildered, as you keep landing blows on him, your fists connecting with his chest repeatedly.

“what the fuck, seungcheol! i’m going to fucking kill you!” you hiss, your voice barely keeping it together.

the boys who are just leaving freeze at the front door, eyes wide, before they scramble to get out, closing the door behind them in a hurry.

“whoa, whoa, what’s going on?” he stammers, trying to catch your wrists, wincing with each hit.

“what’s going on?! you seriously asking me that right now?” you shout, not giving a damn that he’s confused. his clueless expression only makes your blood boil more.

“i wasn’t even here, what are you talking about?” he says, sounding defensive, and it nearly makes you explode.

“you didn’t even fucking bother to tell me your friends were still here! i thought i was alone, seungcheol!” you scream, your voice reaching that pitch where even he starts to look worried. “and now seungkwan’s seen my fucking ass!”

his eyes go wide, shock written all over his face as he stares at you. “wait, what? seungkwan saw you naked?!”

“yes, you idiot!” you practically screech, your face flushing red with embarrassment. “he saw everything, and you’re to blame!”

“alright, alright, calm down,” he says, though his voice is anything but calm. “just… stop screaming for a sec, will you?”

“don’t tell me to calm down!” you snap back, but your hits start to lose their strength. “i can’t believe this is happening. fuck, i’m never gonna live this down.”

“it’s not that bad,” he tries, but you can hear the strain in his voice, as if he’s trying to convince himself as much as you.

“not that bad? not that bad?!” you glare at him, hands on your hips now, chest heaving. “seungkwan saw my naked ass, seungcheol! you have any idea how fucking mortifying that is?”

he bites his lip, and you can see him holding back something—probably a retort, maybe even an apology. but it doesn’t matter, because deep down, a part of him is seething for a different reason altogether.

“you’re not getting off that easy. i swear, if this ever happens again, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life. i don’t care if i have to tattoo a schedule on your forehead, you’re gonna tell me when your damn friends are over!” you snarl, storming back into your room and slamming the door shut, leaving seungcheol standing there, more than a little terrified.

your luck was that seungkwan kept his mouth shut and didn’t tell anyone. he even apologized to you, which, honestly, wasn’t necessary since it wasn’t his fault to begin with. when he showed up at your door, looking sheepish, you waved off his apologies.

“it wasn’t your fault, seungkwan,” you say, sighing. “i don’t even know why you’re apologizing.”

“i know why,” seungkwan mutters, and you catch the way his eyes flicker toward seungcheol, who’s hovering behind him, looking a bit too innocent.

“he made you do this, didn’t he?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at seungcheol.

“are you really gonna scold me in front of my friend?” seungcheol whines, crossing his arms.

“it was your fault,” you and seungkwan say in unison, causing seungcheol to groan dramatically, dragging a hand down his face.

the next few days, you’re still so mad—the embarrassment has lightened, but the irritation lingers. you ignore seungcheol’s existence entirely, which seems to throw him off more than your usual bickering. but the result? the boy falls right into line. cabinets? closed. towels? hung up neatly. the stove? spotless, along with the dishes. it’s like he’s scared to mess up again.

he even starts working out at home, right in the middle of the living room, just so there’s no risk of his friends dropping by when he’s not there. every time you walk by and give him a dismissive huff, he sulks, pouting like a kicked puppy.

“you’re really not gonna talk to me?” he asks one day, mid-push-up, his voice a little too whiny for someone who usually acts so tough.

you don’t even bother to respond, just let out another huff and keep walking.

“come on, y/n, i’m sorry! what do i have to do, beg?” he calls after you, his tone half-joking, half-desperate.

you pause, glancing back at him, his big eyes pleading with you. you almost crack but manage to keep your composure.

you huff, slumping onto the couch, grabbing the remote to turn on the tv. seungcheol scoffs as he watches you, getting up from his spot and kneeling in front of you. you ignore him, your eyes glued to the screen, but you can feel his presence, and it’s hard not to notice how ridiculous he looks, sarcastically begging for forgiveness.

“y/n, come on, forgive me, pleeease,” he drawls out dramatically, hands clasped together like he’s praying, his voice dripping with mockery.

you finally tear your gaze away from the tv, raising an eyebrow at him. “go drink your protein shake, cheol,” you say, your tone dismissive.

he rolls his eyes, placing his hands on your knees, and there’s something in his touch that makes you pause. “okay, okay, for real now. can you please forgive me?”

your eyes drift down to his hands, warm and firm on your kneecaps. he notices the way you’re staring and moves his hands to rest on his thighs, waiting for your response. you stay quiet, taking in the sight of him kneeling in front of you, looking almost vulnerable.

when he thinks you’re going to ignore him again, you finally speak up, your tone dripping with mockery. “do you really want my forgiveness, cheol?”

he hums in frustration, rolling his eyes again, as if he’s bracing himself for another sarcastic remark.

you let a small smirk play on your lips. “then why don’t you make the most of being on your knees, and put that mouth to better use?”

his eyes widen in shock, your unbothered expression leaving him stunned. you can see the gears turning in his head, but before he can even respond, you slowly spread your legs in front of him, your attention casually returning to the tv.

seungcheol nearly freezes on the spot, almost losing his balance as he processes what you just said. but the sight of you, open and inviting, has him swallowing hard, his throat bobbing as he struggles to maintain composure.

he doesn’t know where to start, caught between the shock of your command and the thrill that’s been building up inside him for ages. he hesitates for a moment, then reaches under your dress, his fingers grazing the edge of your panties—the ones he’s already had a peek at earlier. you keep your eyes glued to the tv, acting like you didn’t just ask him to do what he’s been fantasizing about for far too long.

seungcheol’s never been one for preliminaries; that’s just not his style. so instead of teasing, he pushes your dress up, exposing more of your thighs, and hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties, tugging them down. his breath catches when he realizes you weren’t prepared for this—you’re not wearing the usual lacy things he often sees in the laundry, and you’re not wet—yet.

his hands are firm under your legs as he spreads them wider, leaning in closer. the anticipation coils in his gut as he spits on your pussy, watching the wetness slowly glide over your folds. you squirm just a little, the sudden sensation making you shift, but your eyes stay focused on the tv, pretending this isn’t affecting you.

the sight of you like this—so casual, so indifferent—only makes seungcheol more determined. he dips his head down, his tongue dragging a slow, deliberate line along your slit, tasting the mix of his spit and your skin. the thought that seungkwan got to see you naked before he did burns in the back of his mind, fueling his movements.

he starts off slow, almost gentle, but the more you keep ignoring him, the harder he goes. his lips wrap around your clit, sucking it hard enough to make you gasp, though you try to keep it quiet. he can feel your resolve slipping as he works his mouth on you, each stroke of his tongue more focused, more intense.

seungcheol’s goal is clear: make you forget about whatever the hell you’re watching on tv and finally give him the attention he craves. he wants to see you fall apart because of him, to know that he’s the one getting you off like this.

he moves one of his hands to your thigh, squeezing it as he bobs his head, sucking your clit harder with each motion. finally, you can’t take it anymore. your head tilts down, and you meet his gaze—his big, dark eyes looking up at you so fucking needy. the sight of him, lips slick with your arousal, head moving rhythmically between your legs, makes your jaw fall slack.

your hand instinctively reaches for his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as you grip him tighter, urging him on. seungcheol hums against your clit, the vibrations making you moan, your focus entirely on him now. the tv is forgotten, the show nothing more than background noise as you finally give him what he’s been aching for—your full, undivided attention.

his tongue flicks over your clit—fast, almost unbelievably so—and your body reacts instantly. your back arches off the couch, toes curling, and your grip on the remote tightens. you squeeze it so hard that buttons are pressed at random, the tv screen flashing through channels, the volume going mute, settings changing. but none of that matters anymore. the only thing you can focus on is the way seungcheol’s tongue works against you, driving you absolutely insane.

he grabs your hips, holding you down because you’re squirming too much, trying to grind against his face despite the overwhelming sensation. every time you move, he digs his fingers into your skin, a low groan vibrating against your pussy. your breath comes out in shaky moans, and even though you can barely string words together, you start talking dirty to him anyway.

“f-fuck, seungcheol—y-you're so fucking good at this, fuck—”

your words are laced with moans, stuttering as you try to form sentences. “y-your tongue... oh my god, i hate you—i fucking hate you,” you gasp, but the way you’re grinding into his face tells him otherwise. “i s-swear, you're gonna make me cum s-so fast, you asshole.”

the filthy words spilling from your mouth only fuel him more. he’s close to losing it, just from the sound of you, from the way you’re cursing him out between moans. his tongue flicks faster, relentless, and he watches the way you react, loving the way your body shakes under his control.

“y-yeah, just like that, don't stop—oh, fuck,” you manage to gasp out, your voice rising as he pushes you closer to the edge. he’s so turned on it’s almost embarrassing, the way you’re unraveling beneath him making him throb painfully in his pants. your filthy and breathless talk, your taste and the way youre wetting his tongue more and more, makes him feel like he could cum right there, just from the way you moan his name.

he’s obsessed with the way you’re falling apart, and when you start tugging at his hair harder, he knows he’s got you right where he wants. your head falls back, the tv now nothing but a silent, blurry background, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his tongue, his mouth, the way he’s devouring you like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted.

“god, fuck—cheol, i’m so fucking close,” you moan, your body trembling as you teeter on the edge. he flicks his tongue faster, sucking hard on your clit, desperate to make you cum, desperate to feel the way you’ll fall apart completely because of him.

seungcheol’s hips grind against the corner of the sofa, desperately seeking some kind of friction. when he feels your breath catch, your voice going silent, he risks a glance up and sees you—your mouth open, almost like you’re ready to take him in, and your hand gripping his hair with an iron grip, showing no mercy. the way you’re spasming on his tongue, the tension in your body, it all pushes him closer to the edge.

he lets out a long, whiny moan against you, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and then he can’t help it—his mouth slips from your clit, leaving it throbbing and aching, as his hand rushes down to grab his cock. he presses his thumb against his slit through his sweatpants, feeling the dampness already soaking through. he’s so turned on it’s almost painful, his hips bucking against his hand as he lets out a moan into the soft skin of your thigh.

“fuck, seungcheol,” you pant, spreading your legs wider, acting like you’re not just as turned on by the sight of him falling apart in front of you. “you really came that fast? i didn’t think the gym rat would be such a quick shot,” you tease, your voice dripping with mockery. “what, the anabolics making you weak or something?”

his eyes snap up, and he shoots you a glare, knowing damn well he doesn’t use that shit. “shut the fuck up,” he mutters, trying to sound pissed, but the effect is ruined by the way his voice shakes.

you smirk, your gaze mocking as you look down at him. “then stop whining and get back to work,” you command, your tone sharp. “or do i need to find someone else who can actually handle me?”

seungcheol’s jaw clenches, eyes stabbing you as he leans in again. he bites down lightly on one of your folds, making you jolt and laugh, the sound quickly turning into a moan as he resumes his task.

“that’s more like it,” you say, voice breathy, threading your fingers through his hair again, a satisfied smile on your lips as he starts flicking his tongue over your clit once more.

he grins against you, feeling the vibrations of your moan as you finally let go, focusing entirely on the pleasure he’s giving you. it’s a game for him now, teasing you just as much as you’re teasing him, determined to make you lose control all over again. the sound of your laughter + your moans is the only thing he needs, spurring him on as he buries his face between your legs, eager to make you come undone for him, and only him.

[satoruan]

CALL ME DADDY w/Jujutsu Kaisen

More: Fem!Reader, explicit content, daddy Kink, dd/lg undertones, implied 24/7 kink play, blowjob, praise, punishment, spanking with a paddle, blood, riding, cunnilingus, squirting

Featuring: Gojo Satoru, Ryomen Sukuna, Nanami Kento & Choso Kamo

☾ Satoru Gojo  

The ‘Dad Joke’ Daddy, ’s very playful and dorky. He loves doing the stereotypical TV dad things like smoking cigars, having a world’s best dad mug, and reading the paper during breakfast. Your number one supporter, always at every event or promotion you have, and he’s the first to support you when you’re down. Because he has more life experience, he enjoys guiding you.

“Quiet baby, Daddy’s tryin' ta read the paper.” He hushes you with a firm pat on the head. You're on your knees under the table, with his cock buried as far as it can go.

“Sorry Daddy,” you whisper, taking his heavy cock out of your mouth. “I promise I’ll be quiet.” You look up at him expectantly through wet lashes.

“I know you will, love.” He smiles down at you before gently pushing your head back towards his cock. You happily shove It back into your mouth while he picks up his favorite mug and reads about the current world events.

“Such a good girl, always listenin’ to what Daddy tells you, hmm? I think you deserve an award.”

☾ Ryomen Sukuna

The 'Disciplinarian' Daddy, has very high expectations of you. Very strict with SO many guidelines and rules, it's almost like he wants you to fail so he has a reason to punish you. He’s a brat tamer who readily reminds you who's in charge. Likes to physically enforce his rules and never skips a good spanking. 

“I’m sorry Daddy, promise I am!” You sob as the wooden paddle comes down on your already bruised ass. 

“You didn't sound sorry laughin' and messin’ with me durin’ my meeting.” He grits out, forcing your hands to stay on to the side when you try to cover your ass. 

“Thought it was funny while m’ just tryin’ ta support us,” he brings the paddle down, ignoring your screams for mercy. “All you do is sit at home and’ spend my hard-earned money.”

“I'm sorry Daddy I won’t do it again.” You squirm when he rubs an especially sore spot on your ass that you know for a fact is going to sting for the next week. 

“Yea?” He slowly lets go of your hands.

“Yes! Yes! I swear Daddy, on my life!” Your sob of relief turns into a scream when he brings his hand down again. 

“What did I say about swearing things on your life, huh!?”

☾ Nanami Kento

The ‘Professor’ Daddy, he's so calm and patient with you. All he wants is to see you succeed. Likes taking you on informational dates like going to a museum or aquarium or just staying in and watching documentaries. He’s a pillar of strength, very structured and strict but also forgiving and nurturing. Loves giving you praise and seeing your face lighten up when he teaches you something interesting. 

“C'mon little girl, you can do it.” He encourages you from his place underneath you. 

“I can’t do it! ‘S too big, I’m so stupid!’ You cry out, covering your tear-ridden face from your daddy. 

He must be so disappointed, you think. 

“Hey…Hey, you can, princess, I know you can. Remember what Daddy taught you?” he pulls your hands from your face and places them on his big chest. You look into his eyes and nod.

“Yea,” he settles you over his cock. “Daddy knows he taught you how to ride, you just have to do it yourself now. C'mon perfect girl you can do it.”

With his praise you nod to yourself before slowly guiding yourself down his shaft. Once you reach the hilt you moan and smile down at him. He smiles back before nodding back expectantly. You brace your knees on the soft pillows underneath them and slowly start bouncing exactly like he taught you. 

“My perfect girl.”

☾ Choso Kamo

The ‘lowercase ‘d’ Daddy, the rare submissive daddy. He loves doing anything that pleases you and tends to be more forgiving when you break the few rules he has. He enjoys providing from a submissive mindset and being wrapped around his partner's finger. 

“Do you feel good, baby?” Chosos asks from his position underneath your dress.

“Mhm, feels so good Daddy, you always make me feel so good.” You moan when he goes back to eating you out. He says something else but it's muffled as he sucks on your clit, his fingers curl into your g-spot. 

“Right there Daddy,” You squeeze his head between your thighs. “M’gonna squirt Daddy, you’re gonna make me squirt!” You yell before releasing all over his face. 

“Fuck that felt so good Daddy.” You grin at Choso who’s come out of your now damp dress.

“Yea? You tasted fuckin’ divine babygirl.” He grins up at you. 

“Can you do me a big favor?” You blink innocently, already knowing the answer. His eyebrows frown in confusion.

“Course I will baby, what is it?”

“Can you lick my mess up off the floor, don’ want my parents to wonder why the floor is wet.”

[cherryswisherz]

roles reversed

toxic!paige x toxic!reader

warnings: smut, sub!paige, reader pushed paige into a wall, toxic toxic toxic situationship (LEAVE THEM IT NEVER ENDS WELL)

based on this req

"we be on some toxic shit, but i cannot get off this bitch"

forever (lil baby ft. fridayy, 2022)

-

this girl got me fucked up. 

"so let me get this straight." i asked, rubbing my temples because paige was giving me a fucking migraine. "you thought that i had a thing for your teammate.... so you FUCKED SOMEONE ELSE?"

"okay when you put it like that-" 

"THERES NO OTHER FUCKING WAY TO PUT IT PAIGE!" i was full on screaming at this point. "HOW MANY TIMES DO I NEED TO TELL YOU THAT I'M NOT NOR AM I GOING TO FUCK SOMEONE ELSE?" 

"bro stop yelling at me." 

she was making demands right now? 

oh she has life all the way fucked up.

"get the fuck out paige."  i shook my head and began to walk to my room. 

i had to just end it.

that situationship shit was for the fucking birds and i had to protect my peace because if i handled it was gonna end up in fucking prison. 

"baby no, let's talk about this."

"oh i'm baby now?" i scoffed at this. "was i baby when you were fucking that girl? was i baby when you chose not to ask the simplest fucking question, and instead chose to step out on the rule that you  created?" i asked walking closer to her, with my fists clenched because at that point...

i needed that.

"or am i only baby when you need a rough fuck?" her eyes flicked from mine to my lips, which only further irritated me. "am im only baby after you've called me every other name in the book?" her tongue darted out against her bottom lip as i finally reached her, standing directly in front of her, daring her to break the eye contact i'd established. "you only want me when no one else is willing to let you do shit we do." i shoved her, making her stumble. 

"yo." she says, still holding eye contact. "chill out."

yeah i'm finna whoop her muhfuckin ass. 

"bro on my mama you got me fucked up." i muttered and start pushing her as hard as i could, saying whatever came to my mind. 

"you wanna fuck bitches now?" shove "that's what you wanna do?" shove "you wanna fuck them and then come here and fuck me like im just an afterthought?" shove "get the fuck out!" and then finally her back met the wall next to my door and i felt like i'd accomplished something.

....that was until she put me in a bear hug, making it damn near impossible to move. "y/n, stop bro!"

i used all my strength and ripped myself out of her hold. "NO YOU STOP!" i yelled. "do you have any idea how fucking annoying you fucking are bro?" i asked trying to catch my breath. "how the fuck do you sit there and make the 'no fucking other people' rule and then turn around and break it? you fucking slut."

 "i'm a slut?" she asked, smirking a little, but at this point i didn't give a damn. i was gonna say what i needed to say and then be done with this whole thing. 

"yes. a slut. a whore. whatever you wanna call yourself." i said, crossing my arms. "you never wanted to be exclusive. you just wanted me to be yours and only yours. but you wanna go give away everything that's mine. you're community pussy at this point." 

she practically howled at that. "community pussy is crazy." this bitch was laughing in my fucking face-

next thing i knew i was running towards her ready to molly whop her ass. 

"okay! okay! chillchillchillchill!" she put her hands up before i got to her, which made me stop. "what can i do to fix this?"

easy. 

"ask me to be your girlfriend." 

"anything but that." 

this is exactly why i was trying to smack her. because she's one of them dumb hoes. she just said 'what can i do?'... 

just stupid. 

all of a sudden an idea hit me. 

"let me fuck you." i crossed my arms and smirked because i knew she would give me the upper hand if i wanted it.  

paige wasn't a stone top. she was a switch, she just didn't do it often because i was the og pillow princess. but not today. today i was gonna do what she'd been doing to me for almost 6 months. 

ruin her. 

"oh?" she grinned. "you wanna top me baby?"

"i really wanna beat your ass but martin luther king said violence isn't the answer and i listen to my ancestors... so yes, this will do."

she chuckled a little which irked the fuck out of me but then she plopped on the couch and manspread. "do your worst." 

she had no fucking idea what my worst was.

i climbed in her lap and her hands moved to my ass but i quickly shut that down and pinned them to the couch on either side of her. then i proceeded to take her shirt and sports bra off so that her top half was completely bare. 

i took a moment to admire her. leaving paige alone would have honestly been so much easier if she was ugly but unfortunately, she's hand crafted by jesus himself, so here i was... delusional and pissed off again. 

i start with her neck, soft kisses at first, then as i felt her breathing pick up i switched to longer, more sensual movements and grind into her lap, smiling at the way her hips buck up. i place a hand on her collarbones and slide them down to her tits, kneading them and relishing in the whimpers escaping paiges lips. 

she tried to close her legs as my hands travel further down her body. 

"spread your legs." i demanded. 

she blinked a few times, her blue eyes finding mine. she looked like she couldn't comprehend what i was saying, but when i slid my hand across the space of her lap between us, she complied, eagerly spreading her legs for me. 

a soft sigh from her lips as my hands slipped past the waistband of her briefs and grazed her core. 

"yes, fuck," she breathed out, arching into my fingers that ran circles around her clit. so impatient. a moan fell from her lips as i sped up my pace, making her legs spread further as she chased her orgasm. 

which she seemed desperate for. that much was obvious by how gloriously wet she was for me. 

she gripped the cushions of my couch, moaning even louder when i slid two fingers into her. 

"right there" she breathed rolling her eyes closed as i hit her spot. she moaned especially loud when i curled my fingers into her. i felt her legs grow tight under me, which  made me want to smile with pride for myself. 

"how you feel p?" i felt her tighten around my fingers as i spoke. 

"close- im so close and- shit - it feels so good." she breathed out, chest rising and falling with each breath. 

i curled my fingers deeper inside of her to hit that spongy spot and soaked in the cry she let out. 

then i slid out of her.  leaving her hanging. 

"now how do you feel?" i asked. 

the look on paiges face was murderous and pained at the same time. like she hated this but she was gonna put up with it anyway. 

"like you're not done yet." 

i smiled. "not even close babe." i patted her thigh, stepping off of her lap. "go to my bed and wait for me." 

as i sauntered off into my hallway closet to t get he batteries i needed, i heard the soft patters of paiges sock covered feet hurrying to my bedroom. 

i grabbed the batteries and walked into my room to find paige sitting at the foot of my bed, rid of her bottoms, feet tapping the ground in what, im assuming, anticipation. 

i moved so i was standing directly in front of her, grabbing her jaw and pulling her into a kiss that even had me ready to let this whole thing go. 

luckily though, i had enough willpower to pull away and walk to my night stand. 

"lay down for me p." and she did. 

watching her like this was almost painful. bare, toned body layed out on my bed, and she was doing everything i'd asked without a second thought. 

i lived for this shit.

i was pulled out of my thoughts when paige asked what i was gonna do.

great fucking question. 

 i took my time, looking in the drawer of my nightstand, which held all of the things paige had often used to bring me to my highest points. 

not that she need them.

i decided to keep it simple and nabbed the black bullet shaped toy then made my way back to the gorgeous piece of woman that was losing her mind in my bed. 

"legs wider apart." i heard her breathe sharply as she drummed her fingers on her toned stomach. 

she was excited which made me feel a little bit better about what i was about to do. 

setting the toy down on bed beside paige, i knelt down so i was face to face with her core that was still primed from her denied orgasm earlier. 

god she was sooooo... FUCK.

"you're always acting like i'm just a quick fuck to you p." i ran two fingers up her folds, ignoring the whimper she let out, "and i don't know why." i slid a finger into her and leaned down so i fell face first into her pussy. 

her eyes rolled back as i rubbed circles on her clit and pumped in and out of her with increasing speed. 

her back arched off the bed when i added a second finger and attached my lips to her clit, sucking lightly but i used my free hand to hold her hips her place. 

i pulled back long enougt to say "watch." 

with hooded eyes she stares down at me like i had hung the moon and stars myself. 

as she fucking should.

loud moans echoed around the room as she leaned further into my touch and i knew she was getting close. 

but she wasn't getting off that easy. 

she whined my name the second i'd stopped touching her. 

but i only laughed as turned it on the vibrator, giggling when her previously shut eyes flew open. 

"baby-" she was cut off by her own gasp, jerking forward when i tapped the vibrator against her clit. 

"don't. cum." standing up so i was looking down at her i asked the million dollar question. "i wanna know why you don't wanna be my girlfriend." i murmured, teasing her her folds. "just give me your point of view." 

i knew how she was feeling because i'd been in this very position so many times before. I knew she probably couldn't even think straight, let alone speak, but that wasn't gonna stop me from fucking with her. 

she whimpered as i dipped the vibrator inside of her. 

"speak, paige." i demanded, sliding the toy back out of her, only to run it over her puffy clit earning me a frustrated groan. 

"because you're you and i'm me- shit-" she moaned, arching off the bed again as i held the vibrator softly on her clit. "w-we're just- fuck- so different and i don't wanna..." she trailed off when i applied more pressure. 

"don't what?" i forced out, admiring the way her hands were gripping my sheets. 

when she didn't answer me i turned the vibration up a notch, soaking in the moans and whimpers she gave me.  

"please," she pleaded as her legs began trembling. 

"you just have to give an answer paige and i'll let you cum." i replied, turning the vibrator up again. 

with a deep moans she finally gave in. "i don't wanna lose you" she basically sobbed. 

 that's all i needed.

"cum for me paige." 

her eyes slammed shut and her head flew back as her whole body shook. guttural moans left her throat as she fell apart in front of me. 

it was beautiful, really. 

when she'd ridden her orgasm out, i tossed the vibrator on the bed and laid between her legs that wrapped around my waist. kissing her deeply, and pushing her hair out of her face, i fought the smile that was forming. 

right now wasn't about proving my point. it was about grounding paige. 

her eyes were glazed over as she stared at the ceiling, catching her breath. and then after a few seconds, her hands slithered around my waist, under my shirt. 

with a sigh, she her eyes met mine and she began talking. "of course i want you to be mine. i think.... i think i'm just scared i'm gonna fuck it up and you're gonna be done with me for real."

"you're gonna lose me regardless if you don't figure this shit out p." i said, pulling up so i was straddling her naked body. "i can't keep doing this shit. this was never just sex and you going out doing whatever with whoever is fucking me up a little." 

"i know mama." she said, pulling me back so i was flush against her chest, hugging me tightly "i'm gonna work on it, i swear." 

and even though it sounded nice in the moment, i knew she was full of shit. she'd never change, and i knew it. 

but a piece of me never wanted to stop trying. 

niyah speaks may this type of love never find you guys

taglist: @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @janaelalfysblunt @mrsengstler @kmoneymartini @sageworld

@darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @authentic-girl03 @pb524830 @dnftpn @pboogerswbb @sierrale8ne @ohbueckers @mrsarnold @wbbgetsmewetter @paigesbabygirl @ch12334

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

“𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥” - 𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟑

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙱𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐆𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 | 𝐒𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤

*total fic is 15K - dropping daily

6.8K <- the first chapter is the longest 🩷

𝓇𝒶𝒻𝑒𝓎𝓈𝒸𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝒷𝒶𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 - 𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓀 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑒𝑒

𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙/𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖉𝖚𝖑𝖊

⚠️warnings contain spoilers⚠️

Mean!Rafe, Bully!Rafe, bulling, Rafe is an ass, name calling, degredation, swearing, drinking, smoking, drug usage, kissing, praise, size kink, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), rough oral, multiple orgasms, spanking, violence, fighting, ownership kink, pet names, multiple POVs, violence, gore, horror, stalking, blood mentioned, gaslighting, lovers to enemies to lovers, reader is quick to forgive, mentions of mutual masterbation, teasing, cheating, possessive Rafe, jealousy

*grammatical errors in the text chain are intentional

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓑𝓪𝓬𝓴𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂: Sweetheart!Reader isn’t from the OB. She met Kiara (roomate) at college and quickly became friends with the Pogues. The group decided to join the reader, working at Camp Salem which she attended every summer since she was little. After junior high she became a camp counselor herself. Sweetheart!Reader is just that, a sweetheart. She’s a lover-girl and quick to forgive. She’s hard to read regarding her sexual experience—her sweetness is irresistible to Rafe. He fantasizes about corrupting her and stripping her of that. Sweetheart!Reader wears her heart on her sleeve, making her the perfect target for her bully, Rafe Cameron.

𝓡𝓪𝓯𝓮’𝓼 𝓑𝓪𝓬𝓴𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂: Canon-wise this Rafe is the closest to Season 1 Rafe. He is the definition of touch starved, touched but untouched, craving intimacy because it makes him feel better, even if it's just for a few moments. The only awful thing he did in his past in this AU is to be an asshole to the Pogues. He and the Kook trio are serving community service hours assigned from the university at Camp Salem after getting in trouble for something at the end of the last school year (undisclosed drinking violation). This being something they couldn’t pay their way out of.

Reader’s POV:

“I thought he was on archery duty,” Kie mumbles as you look down from the lifeguard tower on the 6’2” nightmare of a man strutting toward the water. He sets the whistle in his mouth, hands resting on his toned hips, his stupid backward cap on his perfectly quaffed head of hair. Rafe motherfucking Cameron.

“Him and JJ wouldn't stop arguing… Mrs. Mazie was worried one of them would…” You let your voice trail away as you mimic drawing the bow back, shooting and arrow straight at Rafe.

“Fair. That tracks,” Kiara laughs weakly—nothing surprising either of you anymore.

This is where I go to find peace. Where I go to make a little extra cash for the summer. Camp Salem is mine, and it always has been. Rafe’s whistle screams through the noise, making all heads turn to him just like he likes. Always and forever the center of attention. “No roughhousin’. Aight? I’m not gonna rescue your ass. If you drown, you drown,” he barks, fishing a fresh spliff out from behind his ear, replacing it with his whistle.

“What the hell is he doing?” You scoff in disbelief as he lights up a smoke in front of the kids. You hear a wolf whistle come from the woods. Rafe turns over his shoulder with a smile, ignoring the swimmers as he watches Kelce and Topper hike toward the shore with a cooler.

“What do you think’s in there?” Kiara groans, but you both know the answer. Beer.

“Rafe, are you kiddin-”

”Shut the fuck up,” he stops you before you can even start chewing him out, pointing his big fingers and lit joint up at you before taking another drag. “M’fuckin’ thirsty. Okay? It’s 100 fuckin’ degrees, princess. Have some goddamn compassion,” he taunts through a thick cloud of smoke, catching a beer as Kelce lofts it in the air, the brunette quickly cracking it open.

“Isn’t this the kinda shit that got him in trouble in the first place?” You backchat to Kie, catching Rafe’s ears as well.

“The fuck you talkin’ out of your ass for like you know me. Huh?” He spits.

“I was talkin’ to Kie.”

“If you've got shit to say, you can say it to my face... Ya know, scratch that. I vividly remember tellin’ you to shut the fuck up.” Your mouth falls open in disgust, the sour expression on your face making him smile smugly. “You hear me that time, or are you hard of hearin’, sweet cheeks?”

“Loud n’ clear,” you sigh and roll your eyes away, returning your attention to the water to do his job.

“Rafe,” Kelce calls out, taking a few steps back with the football. Rafe runs closer to shore, right in your line of sight, slamming the rest of his beer as he runs. He crushes the can in his fist before catching the ball, making the two boys whistle and cheer.

“Your can, Rafe,” Kiara scolds pointing to the litter wedged in the sand.

“Think you got it, Kie,” he taunts, leaving it behind for Kiara to clean up out of spite. She flips him the bird, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, grumbling something about him being a useless asshole.

Why is he so fucking awful?

𝐹𝓁𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀…

"Do you know where you're going?" You whisper out of the corner of your mouth, grabbing the door for Kiara. The two of you press through the university doors, walking with the flow of traffic.

"No fuckin' clue," she chuckles. "I don't remember shit from orientation."

"Neither do I," you sigh, adjusting your book bag strap nervously.

"Hi, y/n." The sound of his voice sends you into a tailspin. Your breath hitches; heart, racing wildly.

Holy shit. Holy shit. Relax. Just relax. "Hi, Rafe," you smile, looking toward his deep voice, but he’s already down the hall, lost in a crowd of frat boys, vanishing behind the lecture hall doors.

"That was... Well... Umm-" Your roommate teases.

"Shut up-”

"Hard to watch," Kie continues mockingly. "You know… I know Rafe all too well. That's Sarah’s older brother. He’s a mess, y/n. A literal walking red flag: drug dealer, cliché frat boy douchebag, daddy issues up the ass, sex addict… A fuck boy, at the very least. Are you sure you even wanna mess with that?” She looks back at you in disdain that you even showed the slightest bit of attraction in the first place.

“All I said was ‘he was cute,’” you correct her, ambling toward the same lecture hall as Rafe, feeling your excitement rise.

"Yeah… Sure”

“What does that mean?” You scoff.

“You gave him “the eyes”,” she knocks. “You like him, which is fine, I guess… He’s just gonna be a fuckin’ problem for you. A big problem. HUGE. Mark my words. You did not choose an easy one.”

“I didn’t choose anyone…”

“Yeah? Well he chose you,” she adds cautiously as you walk through the doors, the two of you matching Rafe’s baby blues—the man clearly waiting to catch your eye again. The two of you walk toward the group of frat boys sprawled out in the back. Rafe slaps the guys next to him, whispering something that has them pushing down a couple seats.

Rafe’s gaze trails up your body as smirk rolls across his lips. Holy shit. You swallow hard, feeling your cheeks warm up. “Hi, Rafe," you breathe.

"Hey, Y/n," he welcomes you warmly.

"Can I sit here?"

”’Course you can,” Topper jumps into your conversation, speaking before Rafe can. Rafe furrows his brows, his glare cutting over to his friend. Jealousy? Maybe he’s interested. You take a seat in a desk, Rafe quickly adjusts to move a little closer, his muscular arm skimming yours.

“You settling in, sweetheart?” Sweetheart? Sweetheart. Me? Rafe gives you a sinful smile before wetting his plump bottom lip. He shifts slightly, letting his knee-graze yours as well. You hadn't seen him in a week. He was on campus helping his sister move into the dorms, sweetly offering to help you carry in your largest box when he saw you struggling in the stairwell. It was a small gesture, but honestly you've thought about it ever since.

“I am. Thank you,” you smile, going to speak again but you’re cut off by your professor's voice booming through the room.

"Oh, hey," Rafe whispers, not the least bit concerned about class starting. You look over at him, catching his flirty smile as he fishes his phone out of his pocket. “Before I forget again. Can I get your number?”

“Mhmm.” is all you can manage as you fumble for your phone and your words.

"You comin’ by the frat on Friday?"

“Friday? Yeah. Sure… Is there a party?”

“Yeah. First week of school. Of course, there’s a party. We should get together before then, though. What are you doin’ tonight?"

Tonight? "Oh. I-”

"I can stop by your dorm?" You feel his touch again as his rough finger brushes your thigh ever so slightly. “Just to hang out. We can relax, watch a movie, get to know each other better," he rasps. “Nothin’ more. Aight? I can tell you’re nervous, princess. I don’t wanna make you nervous,” he assures. Damn, that sounds like a lie, leaving his lips. His perfect fucking lips.

Damn… I'm in trouble.

“I’d love that.”

Rafe’s POV:

Atta girl.

Fuck, she’s hot. And she knows it, too. Those legs, that dress, those fuckin' tits… She sneaks little glances at me out of the corner of her eye, positioning her body to get even closer. She’s a good girl. So damn good. I can tell she's a sweetheart. She’s gotta be a virgin… Or is she? Either way, I can’t wait to show her a thing or two. I’m gonna ruin this girl. It’s been a week since I saw her last. I was hopin’ I’d see her on campus, get her number, set somethin’ up. Shit… This is the best case scenario.

Finally… I look up at the clock as it ticks to the top of the hour. I watch as she stands up from her seat, her little dress catching on her upper thighs. “I’ll see you later, Rafe,” she coos. “Nice to meet you, Topper.” She brushes her dress down, skirt shifting over her ass as she walks. Ugh, she's fuckin’ mine.

“Nice meetin’ you too, sweetheart.” Topper calls and I roll my eyes.

“Can you not read the room, Thornton. She’s taken,” I gloat as I watch her and Kie walk toward the steps. She glances back at me, giving me a wordless invitation. You want me to chase you, princess. I can do that.

“Taken? By who?”

“By who?” I mock him, scowling in disgust. “You that dumb?”

“Damn, she’s sexy,” Topper sighs blissfully, ignoring me completely, just provoking me. I throw my elbow at him, catching him in the gut.

“The fuck did I say?” I snap through a raspy laugh letting only a fraction of my annoyance bleed through. “Stop pushin’ me, Top.”

“M’just sayin’,” he laughs as he gathers his things too.

“No shit she's hot.” I scoff as I stand up, heading out before any of the boys can catch up with me. “Stay in your fuckin’ lane, bitch.”

"Where are you off to, Cameron?" Topper yells through the lecture hall.

"Guess, buddy,” I smirk at him before passing through the doors. Y/n seperates from Kiara. Thank, god. She looks from the left to the right, settling on the right. "Wrong way, sweetheart," I call. Y/n turns on her heels, the corners of her pouty lips curling into a smile. "You're looking for your next class. Yeah? Freshman math?”

"Mhmm. Yeah... Will you help me?" She questions. "I don't remember anything from orientation."

"Of course," I smile warmly as she looks up at me. "You know the professor’s name?”

“Shell-Shell something….”

“Shellenberger.”

“I think so.”

“Well, sweetheart. I think you're right. Stupid fuckin’ name. How are you supposed to remember that shit? Huh?” I laugh lightly, making her return a giddy, nervous giggle in agreement. She pulls out her schedule and I bite back a smile as I watch the paper quiver slightly in her trembling hand. “Mhmm… Over here." I rest my hand on the small of her back, guiding her in the right direction.

"Shit," she grumbles, tossing her gaze down in defeat. "I'm such a freshman.”

"Nothin’ wrong with that. You’ll figure it out," I breathe, brushing my hand lightly over the top of hers. Y/n takes a little breath, biting her glossy bottom lip between her teeth at the slightest bit of contact between the two of us. Shit. She’s stunning…

We round the corner, stepping toward her next class. “Well thank you, Rafe,” she smiles as she steps away again but I reach out for her hand, leading her back to me.

“You got a few minutes?” I ask, my question making her beautiful eyes sparkle as her body pulls closer and closer as I take the opportunity to lead her away from the crowd. "It’s been like, what, a week? I’ve been thinkin’ about you a lot,” I mumble. She takes a little breath, trying to think of something to say but she’s a little too flustered. “You're beautiful.” I lose her completely as she glances away bashfully before returning her eyes to mine.

"Thank you, Rafe," she murmurs. Shit. I can get used to that... My name sounds so good on her lips.

"So, am I gonna get you alone tonight?" I ask, making her eyes widen and flutter.

“Oh. Umm… Yeah. I think I can talk Kie into leaving,” she whispers delightedly.

"That’s great news, sweetheart. Just perfect," I smile as I rest my hand against the wall, moving nearer, giving us a little more privacy. “I’d ask you to come to the frat house but it’s pretty crazy right now. And I think Top has a crush on you too. Can’t have that...”

She scrunches her cute nose, clearly uninterested in him, still playing sweet regardless. “I think he was just bein’ nice.”

“Nah… You shoulda heard him talkin’ about you when you left. I mean he’s my buddy, but the guy’s a dog. Ya know?”

”Really?”

”Mhmm… Don’t worry. I had your back. Thornton’s a dick… I set him straight.”

”Thank you,” she smiles sweetly.

“‘Course. Well, I’ll see you tonight. Hmm?” I ask, watching as her smile creeps a little wider as she hugs her books a little tighter.

“See you tonight.”

Reader’s POV:

Your mind starts to race as the movie continues, each passing minute drawing the two of you closer and closer. Rafe smirks down at you, watching your cozy shorts ride up on your thigh as you move your leg just over the top of his. His large, ringed hand traces over your skin, gripping you tight.

The night’s played out like a game of checkers; Rafe, waiting on you to make your move before he made his next, careful to not skip ahead or go too far. He’s been nothing but a gentleman, but that hunger inside you wishes he would just push all that aside. Should I just go for it? I can’t help but get caught up staring at his lips. Kissing on the first night… Is that too forward? Damn. I don’t think I’ve focused on a second of this movie.

The scenes blur together, your thoughts flurry your mind as your heart pounds louder than the sound of the movie. The rapid beating thumps in your ears, embarrassingly so. You look up at him, wondering if he hears it as well, but he smiles at you sweetly. “You alright, princess,” Rafe asks, his voice deep and husky, making your stomach flutter at the sound. Just go for it... If you don’t do it now, you'll regret it. I’ve heard the way the girls on campus talk about him—seen the way they look at him. If I sit here and do nothing, he’s gonna find someone who will…

You sling your leg over fully, taking a seat on Rafe’s lap as your sexual tension boils over. It’s like he was already waiting, his large arm quickly wraps around your waist, pulling you even closer, his other hand drifts into your hair, twisting in your strands, taking you by surprise when his lip crash into yours. You gasp; lips parting slightly, letting Rafe’s tongue slips between, making all your tension melt away.

You match his pace, slowing down with him, savoring the feeling of his soft lips against yours. A low groan escapes him, landing on yours lips, sending chills down to your spine, straight to your throbbing core. Rafe pulls back slightly, leaving you panting, searching for him. “Fuck, Rafe," you breathe in a voice you've never used before as he latches onto your neck; sucking, licking, bitting, making you tilt your head back. He chuckles sinfully against your skin, lighting you on fire before softening his touch completely, working his way back up to your mouth. His kiss-swollen lips ghost over the top of yours, brushing softly.

"I really like you," he hums. “Fuck. I like you a lot, princess.”

"I like you too, Rafe."

”You do?” He croons, the timbre of his voice torturing you.

”I do,” you whisper as you fingers scratch into the hair at the nape of his neck, subtly pulling him in but he hangs back.

"It’s late. What is it? 2 am?" Rafe smiles against your mouth, teasing you shamelessly. He knows exactly what you want but he’s holding true to most of his word from the earlier in the day. “I said we were just hangin’ out, baby. We already went too far…”

“You’re teasing me,” you whisper.

“What? Did you want more?” He asks as his big hand slips under your sweatshirt, tracing your lower back.

“I do,” you whisper needily.

“Mmm’guess, we’re just gonna have to get together tomorrow. Huh?”

“No. I-” You answer quickly. “No…”

“No?” He bullies you, giving you that old money laugh. “You don’t wanna hang out with me, sweetheart?” Rafe whispers warmly against your hot skin.

“You know what I mean,” you sigh, finding yourself at the crossroads between frustration and lust, completely dizzy with the thought of him. Fully consumed in Rafe Cameron. Every part of you wanting every piece of him.

“Tomorrow?”

"Tomorrow," you sigh.

It’s only been a month but, fuck, it feels like longer. I’ve gotten to see him interact with his frat brothers and other girls and it just feels different. He’s so cold and gruff but when he’s around me it’s like that icy exterior melts away. It’s addicting getting to see this side of him— like it’s reserved for me and only me.

There are moments, though… moments where I question if I’m all he wants. I mean, I can tell he likes me, but it’s almost like he’s keeping other girls on standby just in case. Whenever I see him in the hall, he’s always stepping away from a conversation with a different girl or setting his phone face down on the desk before I take a seat… And, it’s moments like that where I get more and more unsure…

Rafe can see it too. I swear he can hear what I’m thinking because he’s quick to assure me I'm way off the mark. He says all the right things, swearing up and down that he’s only interested in me. It’s hard to deny that way he looks at me—the way he touches me: tender and rough, ebbing and flowing between the two leaving me like putty in hands. It’s hard to deny that fact when our talks get deeper and deeper. He confides in me. He tells me things I have to promise not to tell anyone else. I can see him letting his guard down. He’s a very different Rafe than the world knows. He’s my Rafe.

I don't want to be casual. I don't want to be one of “his girls”. Kie said he has daddy issues… Maybe that's why he’s too afraid to commit to us—to me.

Every night I’m pulling myself away right before I take it any further just waiting for his actions to match his words. But it’s getting harder… It’s next to impossible to push aside my urges. I've touched his body; felt the deep ridges of his abs under his shirt, the muscles of his broad chest pressed against the palms of my hands. I've stroked his thick cock over his grey sweats, sucking his tip through the fabric, getting us both off just grinding on his lap alone.

Maybe that next level of intamacy is the connection we need. Maybe sex is all it’ll take. I'm not a virgin. What am I holding out for anyways? Maybe if I give him what I know he wants he’ll be all in. I want him—but I want to feel secure. I want his eyes to stop wandering. I want to be everything he wants. I just don't think I am.

BEEP. BEEP.

You look out your dorm room window as Rafe leans out of his truck with a smile, beckoning you to come outside. You gather your things, running down the stairwell, before making your way out the front door. Rafe’s eyes rake over your body, taking in the view as you walk toward his ride.

He hops out just before you make your way there, pulling you into his arms, looking down at you with a smile. “Damn, you look so fuckin’ pretty,” he praises breathlessly, leaning in for a kiss, claiming your lips. Butterflies swirl in your stomach, tummy fluttering with excitement. You smile against his lips, breathing a similar sentiment against his, praising how handsome he looks in his crisp white shirt and jeans. “Thank you, princess. You ready to get outta here?” He asks, popping open his passenger’s door, taking your overnight bag off your hands, helping you inside.

His smile widens a little more as you silently set the plans, you, having no intentions of going home as you usually do. He trots around to the driver’s side, a little more pep in his step, tossing your bag in the back before turning the key. “You stayin’ with me tonight, princess?” Rafe asks, through a boyish smile he’s trying his best to contain. Your heart sings seeing him this excited. Maybe I was right.

You roll up to the frat. The large mini mansion flooded with people inside and out, music pouring from the windows and open doors. It’s a madhouse. Rafe chuckles, looking out onto the mess. Just another weekend… “You ready?” He asks as he turns his head to the side, tilting it slightly as his smiles.

“M’ready.”

Rafe helps you out of the car, walking hand-and-hand with you inside the space. Cigarette and weed smoke hangs heavy in the air, mixing with the sticky sweetness of cheap liquor. Rafe walks through the party, greeting the masses as he passes brother after brother, the two of you moving deeper and deeper into the party. He lifts your bag by the strap, gesturing to ask if you want to put this in his room. You nod and smile knowing that there’s no chance you’re leaving if he gets his way.

The two of you walk up the stairs, stepping down the hall, excitement rising as you get closer and closer until he pushes through his bedroom door. As soon as it opens, it shuts again; Rafe backing you against the entry, slamming his lips against yours, wanting nothing more than his mouth on yours. He lifts you into his strong arms, deepening the kiss; the two of you quickly finding your tempo.

Rafe pulls you off the wall, walking with you to his bed, laying you down on top. He grabs the back of his baseball cap, pulling it off his head before tossing it to the side, quickly tearing his shirt away. Your eyes widen at the sight of his broad, bare chest, fully exposed. His gold chain glints with his quickened breathing—his toned abs, and deep v-lines kiss the band of his Calvin Klein boxer, poking out of his jeans. He crawls toward you, rolling his big body into yours, crushing you under his weight as he kisses you again, grinding at the perfect cadence. You whimper into your kiss, making him moan into your parted mouth.

DING.

Rafe pulls away from your kiss, grabbing his phone out of his back pocket, eyeing the screen before setting it down on his nightstand. You look back up at him, Rafe not missing a beat, his lips quickly greeting yours again. His tongue slides between your lips, reeling with yours, making you feel like you could float away.

DING. DING. DING.

You're pulled back to reality, stomach plunging as Rafe gets back-to-back notifications. He starts to kiss you a little deeper, your attention obviously getting pulled elsewhere, going out of his to bring your focus back to him, biting your lip and squeezing your hip, whispering sweet-nothings to cloud your thoughts.

DING.

“Rafe…” You sigh, unable to concentrate.

“Just frat stuff, princess. M’sorry,” he mutters. “Just focus on us. Yeah?”

DING.

“Can you at least put it on silent?” You clip as you grab for his phone, catching a name.

Jilly Tate

Jillian? As in Delta Gamma Jillian? You look up at Rafe uneasily. He takes his phone back, flicking the device on silent before returning to your lips.

“Stop,” you whisper.

“What? Why?” He asks dumbly, like he doesn’t already know you know something’s up, continuing to kiss the corner of your lips and cheek as he reaches over, setting his phone down. Without thinking you reach for it, snagging it off the nightstand before opening up his messages. “What are you doin’?” He huffs like he’s got something to hide.

And he does.

Jilly Tate: Rafey

Jilly Tate: Are you partying tonight?

Jilly Tate: Rafe Cameron??

Jilly Tate: you better not be busy again

Jilly Tate: I’m gonna need you to convince me to get out of bed

Jilly Tate: you better make it worth my while?

Jilly Tate: Maybe you need some motivation.

You look up at him as he looks down at you uneasily, not knowing what you’re reading, just knowing who it’s from. He can see the sadness in your eyes, letting him know that it’s most likely not something you weren’t meant to see. You flick your franic finger fast scrolling a little higher, catching pages and pages of messages populating from this week and last

"So, are you… Are you hanging out with Jillian too?" You force the words past your lips, trying to remain as unbothered as possible.

"Yeah, Y/n. Nothing there. Just friends. I swear." Just friends... That doesn’t look like just friends. "Y/n... you okay, baby?" He asks, knowing full-well you aren’t.

"Uh, yeah-yeah. I'm alright," you lie as you look at his phone, watching as three little dots appear, a new message forming from Jillian.

Goddamit, Rafe. You shut your eyes softly, doing your best not to cry as you see the image: blonde curls, piled in a messy bun, pouted lips, and bedroom eyes. A mirror selfie on her bed. Just Rafe’s oversized frat T-shift and a barely-there thong swallowed up by her perfect ass. "Sweetheart?" He asks again, his voice a little more unsure than the first time.

"Yeah."

"You okay?"

Fuck off... Absolutely not. Yet another message rolls in. Rafe’s eyes tighten to yours. "Calm down, Rafe. It’s Topper," you mutter.

"He’s probably just wonderin’ where I’m at, baby.”

Fuck that. You open the message, typing a ‘call me’ reply before taking it off silent, setting it down on the bed before looking up at Rafe; your frusterstion peaked. The tears you’re trying to contain haze your eyes. Rafe clearly has something going on with Jillian. Even if I'm somehow mistaken, he's still getting text— still getting together with her, still getting sexts.

RING. RING. RING.

"Take it,” you whisper.

"I'll talk to him later, princess."

"Take. It."

"Y/n. I-"

CLICK.

Rafe’s eyes double as you make the decision for him, hitting the accept button, putting it on speaker as well. You lift an eyebrow in his direction, challenging him to speak.

"Uh... Umm. Hey, Top."

"Yo. You comin’ or what? Where are you?" He yells over the party downstairs.

"M’up in my room. I’ll be down in a few minutes. I gotta go, man."

"Wait a second... Are you with Jillian?"

"Holy shit," you respire, pinching your eyes shut. A few stray tears fall. You lift your finger fast, brushing them away before he can see.

“No.”

"Bullshit, man. I hear her. Hi, Jilly." You reach up, shoving Rafe off you before crawling off the bed, gathering your things on the floor before bounding toward the door as those same tears stream down your cheeks. Goddammit. Rafe reaches out for you, hauling you back in; his cheeks, flushed; eyes darting frantically.

"Let me go, Rafe.”

"Y/n, please. I can explain.”

"I'm so fuckin' done, Rafe. Just - Fuck! Just leave me alone!" You hiss.

“Shit, y/n. She’s - She's just a friend, baby. Yeah, we fuck. But, she means nothing to me. Nothing. And, I mean nothing to her I swear. C’mon. You're my girl. Just stop.”

"All you do is fuck? Like you’re fucking her still?" You ask as you step toe to toe with him, looking up at his flustered face, silently pleading he isn't doing just that.

"Y/n..." He is… Oh my god. “Baby, please.”

"I'm not your fuckin' baby, Rafe."

"It’s nothing.”

“Nothing? You're joking… What are you doing? Why are you playing me?”

”I’m not playing you?”

”Yes you are!”

”Fucking how? How the hell am I playin’ you. Huh? Been hanging out with you all month. Asked you to come here didn’t I? I’m in here with you right now. Not her. Didn’t even tell her we were havin’ a fuckin’ party. Alright? How am I possibly playin’ you?”

“Why are you gaslighting me? You’re acting like I didn’t just read those fucking texts, Rafe? You said I was the only one you wanted but you were obviously still talking to her; fucking her. If I couldn’t come to this fuckin’ party would you be doing this same shit with her?”

“No! The fuck are you even sayin’ that for? Fake-ass scenarios. Throwing a bitch fit about ‘what ifs’. I'm here with you. I only want you-”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit,” he booms. “I like you. Okay? Tate and I haven’t fucked in days. You and I finally started gettin’ serious. I told her I was done. I suppose you read that too though. Right?”

“Days? Days, Rafe? How many?”

“I don’t know…” He mumbles. You roll your eyes, stepping away but he tugs you back in again.

“Finally started getting serious? Did you actually say that, Rafe?” You soften your voice in sadness. Rafe looks back at you dumbfounded as tears of frustration pool in his eyes too.

“I’m sorry for saying that. I know we're serious, baby.”

“I don't think you do, Rafe...” Rafe puffs out a deep, vexed breath as he runs his fingers through his hair, brushing his bangs off his sweaty forehead, either stalling or trying to calm himself down but regardless he's at a complete loss for words. “Nothing? Seriously…”

“Don’tchu think you're overreacting a little bit?” He drawls. His question setting you off further.

“Overracting? Because if roles were reversed and I was fucking Top it would be “nothing”?”

“That’s not the same and you know it, y/n.”

“So after you left my dorm you were just going and getting pussy from her because you weren’t getting any from me?”

”What?” His voice comes out breathy and hoarse at your accusations. He lifts the collar of his shirt, wiping the tears from his eyes.

”Did you leave my dorm and come back here and fuck her?” You speak slowly, asking him a simple question there was no way he couldn’t understand. He hangs his head, sniffling pitifully. “I can’t believe I wanted to be with you. I can’t believe I wanted to fuck you. Jesus, Rafe. I’m a goddamn idiot.” Rafe’s eyes snap to yours, his gaze wild as he takes in your words.

"Please. Fuck. I'm sorry. I'll change. I swear. I-"

"I’m done, Rafe. I don’t trust you. How can I trust you. You said ‘you liked me’, you said ‘I was the only one’. You lied about Jillian… You couldn’t even tell Topper that you were in here with me. That’s so fucking embarrassing.”

"Shit! Fuck. Just stop. It’s not all my fault. Okay? You - You can’t keep acting like you’re acting either. I had no clue if you really liked me or not. I didn’t think you were actually gonna fuck me. You’re teasing me, you're a fuckin’ tease, y/n. Always keeping me on the edge. I have needs-”

“What? I’m not teasing you, Rafe. And needs? We’ve only been talking for a month. A MONTH! I know you have needs. So do I. But it’s hard to let myself go around you and take it to the next level when you’re always looking around for the next best thing. Because if you were all in, Rafe, your needs would have been met week one.”

“I am all in!"

“You’re not. You just want me ‘cause I said I wanted to fuck, Rafe. I’m not dumb,” you grumble. “You’re just a fuckin’ douchebag,” you spit yanking your arm away before starting down the hall. His heavy feet tromp after you, following you close.

“You’re not listening to me, Y/n. Do you even hear what you’re sayin’ to me. You’re actin’ like such a victim but you were feelin’ insecure all fuckin’ month and you weren’t tellin’ me. Just holdin’ out on me because you thought I wanted other people; ‘always looking for the next best thing’ or whatever the fuck. You’re takin’ your insecurities out on me.”

You turn around fast, pushing your finger into his chest roughly. Looking up into his pathetic, tear-stained eyes. “Was I wrong, Rafe? You gave me reason to worry and I was fuckin’ right,” you scold as you jab your finger into his heart, punctuating each word. “How do you think that feels? Huh? Then you stand here trying to turn the blame on me. You’re not a fuckin’ man… You’re a boy.”

“Yeah? Well, you're actin’ like a fuckin’ bitch.”

“I’m acting like a bitch?” You ask weakly, watching as Rafe’s bottom lip trembles. “Fuck you, Rafe.”

You move to the staircase, pushing through the party as adrenaline and fever courses through your veins, your tears making it impossible to see. Fuck this whole month. Fuck this night. Fuck Rafe. You run your hand across your eyes, collecting tears as you pull out your phone, scouring for an UBER. I just need to get home. I just want to forget this ever fucking happened. But how am I going to forget about him?

I fuckin’ can’t.

Rafe’s POV:

”You were up there with, Y/n?” Topper asks in disbelief. “You two together?”

"Nah. Not anymore." I lift my beer to my lips as I scan the thick crowd gathered in the frat house.

"Not anymore?"

I can hear the judgment laced in Topper’s voice. I roll my eyes in annoyance. "What’s it matter to you"

"Y/n is a dream. I know you're incapable of playin’ the long game, but Jesus Christ,” he snickers drunkenly.

"She's not doing shit with anyone... anytime soon. She said she was ready, but she was lyin’. I know she was fuckin’ lyin’. Just putting me on a guilt trip. Just sayin’ that shit to make me feel bad. She’s a fuckin’ tease.”

"You don't know that."

"Fairly fucking sure." I plop a joint between my lips, lighting it up. "She's fair game, Thornton. Have at it. Good luck gettin’ your dick wet in this century."

"You're unreal, Cameron," he scoffs and laughs. "But, yeah… Shit. I think I'm gonna take you up on that offer."

"Fuck you. You won't."

"Why do you care? You said ‘she fair fuckin’ game’, asshole."

I chuckle with annoyance, shaking my head in disbelief. "Where's the loyalty. Huh? Have my sloppy seconds, Top. It suites you.”

"Not really sloppy if you didn't fuck."

"I fucking tried."

"I've known you too long for you to bullshit me, man." He bullies before draining the rest of his White Claw. "You didn't. I can tell you what you did do… Hang out with her, fuck Jillian on the side cause you weren’t getting any pussy yet. Yet!” He puts an emphasis on that point, twisting the knife in my heart. “And you got caught.”

“Nah.”

”Yeah,” he laughs. “I’d bet my life on it.”

“You’re just yappin’, bitch. Shut the fuck up.”

“She's the prettiest girl here, hands-down; funny, sweet, smart, loyal. You didn't even give her a chance."

I swallow thickly, taking in every word, all of which couldn’t be more true. I did exactly what he said… I messed up. I lost her. I’m a goddamn mess. I crack open a beer, draining it fast enough to drown a thought or two, quickly grabbing another, trying my best to forget. It’s so much deeper than just messing up. Y/n didn't feel safe around me... I made her feel unsure. She made me feel safe. Me… ‘You’re always looking for the next best thing’. She is the best thing… She made me feel something for once. She cares about me. Well, cared… "I mean I could still try and apologize or whatever," I mumble.

"She's too smart, Rafe. She's done with you."

"Fuck you, Top."

"Nah, fuck you."

"You're a dumbass, Rafey. Like painfully dumb,” Kelce pipes in for the first time.

"Yeah? N’what should I have done? Huh?" I spit.

"Literally, the opposite of that,” he laughs, making Topper do the same. “I agree with everything Top said, bud. You ruined a good thing. N’for who?” He adds in a condescending tone, referencing the girls I usually bag—a direct shot at Jillian Tate.

"So it's done then. No hope? Is that what you're telling me?" I scoff, my eyes cutting between the two of them.

"That is exactly what we’re tellin’ you,” Topper adds.

"Screw you, Thornton... That's just because you want her."

"Obviously."

I let out a loud, frustrated growl, popping open the beer bottle with my ringed finger. "You're a dick."

"I'm just speaking as your friend. I'm being honest. And, honestly, I'm going after her the first chance I get. Just lettin’ you know. So we are both clear." He taunts through a thick cloud of smoke. “And you better stop drinkin’, Cameron. Whiskey dick’s gonna getcha. I'm sure you're gonna fuck the first thing you see with a pulse, Rafey. You're a fuckin’ dog. We all know it,” he stammers, his voice barely audible as his words slur together. “Guessin’ you got Big Titty Tate on speed dial.”

"Fuck you, Top.” I steal an extra beer off Kelce’s hands for myself. “You better stop drinkin’. Turns you into a fuckin’ asshole with an actual spine. Keep runnin’ your mouth. I'll gladly put you in your place,” I laugh, only half-kidding, glaring at him, challenging him to keep going. He puts his hands up as a truce— his heavy-lidded eyes letting me know he’s seconds away from a blackout.

Fuck this fucking night.

It’s done… She’s done with me. I lived up to every one of her assumptions. I was the man Kiara warned her about, I'm sure. I’m fucked. I look up from my beer, watching as a beautiful blonde struts across the party— legs for days, fake tits, a deep spray tan that I'm forever bleaching out of sheets after rough night. Her bleach blonde curls bounce with each steps she takes, walking up to my room no less. Jillian Tate…

I got nothin’ to lose anymore. Got no self-respect anyways. The fuck does it matter?

I don't deserve y/n, and I never have. I fuckin’ hate myself.

Reader’s POV:

You take the quizzes in your hands, passing the remainder to Rafe, keeping your eyes glued on the front of the lecture hall.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he whispers, turning your stomach. You feel his leg graze against yours as he slides a little closer. Seriously… A set of two eyes catch yours, not looking at you, their attention given to Rafe.

"Hi, Rafey,” Jillian mouths the words from a few desks ahead. He lowers his gaze to his test, scribbling his name on the side of his scan-tron messily.

BUZZ.

Rafe slips up, leaving his phone face up. You sneak a glance at the message on the screen.

Notification: Jilly Tate - You ignoring me?

Rafe opens his messages, glancing at the screen before fumbling to lock it; just another glimpse of her, her blonde curls laying on his plaid pillow, Rafe’s large hand wrapped around her slight throat. His signature gold ring hugs his pointer finger—that same stupid, pink entrance bracelet looped around his wrist from the dive bar the night before. He catches your focus, putting the pieces together that you saw the exchange, further piling on his guilty conscience. "Y/n?" You hear Rafe’s gravelly voice in your ear. "I can explain."

Seriously… More tears. Fuck. You snatch your stuff, forgoing the test all together, quickly moving to your feet, pressing toward the door, pushing out fast, before weaving through the hallway gridlock.

"Y/n? Hey... Wait." You hear Rafe calling from behind you, the pounding of his steps, nears. "Hey, bab-"

"Stop, Rafe," you weep.

"C'mon. It's just I-"

"Honestly, Rafe. Just stop!"

"Let me explain."

"Explain what? We broke things off and an hour later you were with Jillian."

"Yeah. But we didn't do anything."

"'I saw the picture, Rafe? Are you that dumb?"

”That’s an old picture-”

“Stop lying… I saw your bracelet. Show me some fuckin’ respect and save your excuses for someone else.”

“I was angry. She was just there. I'm sorry. I-”

"Just there… Just there? Why her Rafe? Why Jillian? You ruined everything. You're a fucking trainwreck, Rafe.”

"We weren't together, Y/n," he adds in frustration. “You left me. Remember?”

"Yeah... And, you didn’t even try to get me back. You didn't even come after me. You just went for the next best thing.” You emphasize your words, making his features sharpen.

"That's not fair."

"For who?”

"I was going to try… I was gonna try to make things right today. I just needed you to calm down. Jesus. You’re not even givin’ me a chance"

"Was that your plan that night, Rafe? To let me storm off and calm down so you didn't have to deal with me and my drama, fuck Jillian, and make up with me on Monday, and act like nothing happened. Just act like you didn't bang the girl in the same bed we were kissing in. Like you didn't just fuck the girl that you said I didn't need to worry about.“

"You’re bein’ dramatic"

"Bye,” you scoff annoyedly. “Just, Bye Rafe." You spit, pressing through him, checking his shoulder as you walk past, heading back toward the lecture hall to finish your test. How could I be so stupid?

His hand wraps around you arm a little tighter, pulling you back. “Just stop. Please,” he begs. “I wanna fight for you. Please. I like you, y/n. I like you a lot. More even-”

“More? What the hell, Rafe? How can you sit here and tell me that when you clearly don't? You didn't call or text me to see if I made it home that night. That's the bare minimum, Rafe."

"You're right."

"Jillian... still?" Your voice comes out smaller than before, breaking with emotion as he moves closer, backing you into the wall that he had you on on the first day on class. Now everything’s different… Those same thoughts you had about how sweet he was tarnished completely.

"She means nothing to me, y/n," he assures, soft and slow.

"Rafe… You and I, that meant everything to me. I really liked you. I didn't want anyone else.”

"Me too. I promise. I swear. Alright?”

"Then how could you ruin this over someone who means nothing to you? How?" You ask as you look up at him, watching his eyes shift a lighter shade of blue, tears glistenen and gather on his lashes. He lifts up the sleeve of his sweatshirt, rubbing them away.

"I don't know, y/n. I don't know what's wrong with me."

Even after everything, your heart breaks seeing him this way. His cheeks flush with embarrassment for his actions and his blatant vulnerability. He looks around, letting out a shaky breath, checking to see who’s watching, but the coast is clear. He hangs his head, letting a few stray tears fall to the floor. “Let's just finish the test. We can talk later. Okay?” Rafe looks up at you, his beautiful eyes glinting with a sliver of hope.

“Thank you.”

You reach for the door handle, giving it a twist.

BUZZ.

You step back, pulling your phone out of the book bag instead. Rafe glances at your phone, catching the name of the sender as well—watching the final nail lodge in his coffin.

Messages; Maybe: Jillian Tate; iMessage

The phone trembles in your hand as you open the message. A video? You click onto the little screen watching the scene play out right in front of you. Rafe wraps his large hand around Jilly’s throat, thrusting into her again and again. Just a short video from just above her tits, letting you watch the pleasure on her face as her eyes roll back. The clapping of his skin against her fills his room. Three little dots form below the video, followed by a new message from her.

Jillian: I’m coming to you as a women.

You look up from your phone, the end of the two of you crystal fucking clear.

“Y/n, I’m sorry.”

𝐹𝓁𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝒹…

Damn, he's infuriating... But, fuck, is he's handsome. Rafe holds the football in his hands, falling back, his big biceps flex, sending the ball spiraling to Top. Your eyes fall down his perfect body: a loose cropped frat tee showing off his toned abs and deep v-lines. His thick thighs hugged with short Champion shorts. He takes off his hat, running his fingers through his carmel-coloured locks before tugging it on again. His sun-kissed skin glistens under the high-noon rays, highlighting his muscles perfectly.

He smiles at you sweetly, making you turn toward Kie with unease. Rafe grabs the bottom of his shirt, lifting it to wipe off the sweat on his face as he walks closer, his shorts hang dangerously low making you hurt with need. His smile morphs into a smug smirk. Your body tenses up as you just wait for his mocking comments to stab you right through the heart.

"Still staring. Huh?" He taunts, causing Kelce and Topper to laugh in agreement, feeding his ever-growing ego. He catches the football from Top, twirling it between his large fingers as he looks up at you from the sand below. "Kie's in her swimsuit, honey. M'sure you got some tits and ass under there to show the boys. When are you gonna stop dressing like a teenage boy?" His voice oozes with condescension, just quiet enough that you're unsure if Kelce and Topper heard or not. You look at the two, none the wiser; your decision is obviously the wrong move, giving Rafe more ammo. "Scared they heard? Aww... M'Sorry, sweetheart. Did I strike a nerve? C'mon, pretty. It's my last day. Leave Daddy with something to keep in the spank bank. Huh?" He rasps.

"Jesus Christ, Rafe. Can you stop being such a dick?" Kiara snaps, looking down at him in repulsion.

"I can," he breathes as his eyes move from her to you. "But, why would I do that? Hmm?" You turn your eyes away, focusing on the water ahead, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your attention he so desperately craves. "Here," he smiles cruelly as he balls up his shirt, lofting it to the lifeguard tower, landing damp on your chest, cotton mixing with hot sweat. "I'll give you somethin' to put around your pillow when you're humpin' it later." Kelce and Topper laugh louder, catching that part of his dig. Rafe shuts his eyes, letting out his own name in a raspy whine. "Oh, Rafe. Fuck. Just like that, baby."

"Pass it here, Daddy," Kelce piles on, making your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"You're such a fucking ass, Rafe," you mumble through gritted teeth.

"What's that now?" He gasps dramatically, turning on his heels fast, looking at you wide-eyed. "You want me to fuck your ass, princess?" His sleazy frat boy laugh fills your ears. "Didn't see that comin'. Did you, Kelce?”

"Nah," Kelce chuckles as he catches the football.

"Nasty little thing, aren't you?" His tongue pokes through his perfect teeth, pleased with himself as you flutter your lashes, trying your best not to cry with frustration. "Aww, don't cry, angel. M'sorry. Boys will be boys."

⭐tags⭐ <- tag list on my pinned post (if your name is crossed out, your tag isn’t working): @floredaqueen @rafesthroatbaby @loserboysandlithium @nemesyaaa @theeternaloptimistt @ditzyzombiesblog @cl4uus @aariahnaa @hyperfixationgirl @akobx @daryldixon83 @rafesgiirl @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @oxpogues4lifexo @babygorewhore @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @savayvaybIr-blog @starkeysprincess @unrealmirrorball @romaescapes @cades-outsider @namelesslosers @anamiad00msday @buckybarnessweetheart

[ellieslob]

★ streamer ellie!

ways to help palestine!!!

S★ she started with fornite and minecraft gameplays but went viral for playing girly video games and screaming with pure rage and desperation if she loses or if her chat tells her the outfit she made was ugly asf😭

S★ she deadass will say “u guys clearly don’t know about fashion like i do” n then pull outfits like this:

S★ she used to be so fucking afraid that her face reveal went like dream’s that she posponed that shit for like a year. when she finally did it she ended the stream, turned off her phone and went to bed covering her body completely, while sniffing and crying “my career is over ”

S★ after her face revealed her account went even more viral, people started to make thirst traps of her and edits, videos, even fanfics, she got a little more comfortable with showing her face. her favorite edits were to songs like ride, baby by me, hey daddy (daddy’s home) and a song in spanish called vaquero, they were just so funny to her😭

iloveellie: she’s daddying so hard‼️

ewisinthechat: aw you guys really see me as a father figure?😺🫶

brondon444: 😭

kvcjjsaj: 😭

loverboydsa: 😭😭😭

“hey why is everyone crying in the chat, is everyone okay?”

S★ she really loves the cat emojis, specially this one 😻

S★ out of all her platforms (aside from twitch) she uses twitter the most, she tweets without a second thought in that head, without filter, like zero hesitation and then apologizes if she said something way too controversial.

ewisinthechat2: have you had that feeling when someone is so stupid you want to stab your eye with a fork? #kys

ewisinthechat2: k, i guess u have not😅…

S★ she was practically new to tiktok, so the first moths she had her likes public, she didn’t even know that was possible on the app. but if you click on it all you could see were shit post and memes that a dad would like, all except for a big section of aprox thirteen videos, one after the other, all with the same girl.

sckerforellie18: did u guys saw ellie’s likes? i think she’s stalking that poor girl😭

slaybabesew: HAHAH WAIT IS REAL, IS SHE HER GILFRIEND???

elliesaheymamasg: she’s so hot wait😩

heyemogirlbb: it’s her @girlypop66

S★ the chat started to tag you to every single one of her videos on tiktok, her photos on instagram, tagging you on things like “hi, could you please date my mom?🤗” or “my new mommie😻” EVEN in her questionable tweets telling you “we know she’s crazy but give her a chance😭”

S★ one day you waked up to your phone being practically broken from all the notifications, you still had your little pink iphone 6 and you had to buy another one because of it.

Instagram

girlypop: hi um i don’t think we really know each other but people are tagging me on your videos😭 love them though

S★ ellie was in a stream, the chat had to make her laugh and spit the water so she was reacting to videos that her chat had send her. when that notification appear on the screen, she read it, gulped the water, looked dead ass serious at the camera and turned off the stream.

elliewilliasm: omg hi, im so sorry i didn’t know, I’ll tell them to spot

elliewilliasm: spot*

elliewilliasm: STOP**😭

you laughed in your new phone, she was funny, and for what you had seen in all the posts that you were tagged on, very pretty too.

girlypop: hey would you like to grab coffee sometime?

ewisinthechat: TO EVERYBODY IN THE CHAT, THANK YOU, YOU GUYS ARE THE FUCKIN BEST, LOVE YALL, IM SO LUCKY TO HAVE YOU, XOXO😻😻😻😻

GIVEAWAY COMIN FUCKIN SOON💯💯‼️

S★ she was exhausted when she jumped to her bed, after all the crying, screaming, jumping and the extreme tweeting that just said “YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES”, she unlocked her phone again.

elliewiliasm: yeah sure :)

REBLOG AND COMENT

IF YOU WANT TO BE IN THE TAG LIST

[hencheri]

Mark and cock warming. Maybe he slaps the reader 🫶🏾

18+. mdni.

hard dom!mark :(

.

mark doesn't fuck slow and steady. he fucks like he can never get enough — fucks like his dick is going to fall off. it never ends without a mess either, whether it's his cum everywhere on your body or the bottom half of his face covered in your arousal, there's always a mess.

but there are those days where mark wants to be intimate, where he needs you as close to him as possible. sometimes he's very tired and he just needs to relax with some cuddles — and in mark's book, cuddling means cock warming.

he swears he doesn't have any dirty intentions, but he's still rock hard just at the thought of having your walls tightly hugging his cock (though, to his defence, he has to be hard to slide inside of you).

so you reluctantly agreed, letting him play with your pussy a little bit to get you wet enough for him. your back is facing him, his pelvis totally flushed against your ass with his arms wrapped around your waist.

surprisingly, mark is very silent, and you're the one who's bothered, face burning hot and teeth sinking into your bottom lip. his cheek is laid on your shoulder, eyes closed, listening to your breathing that is clearly irregular.

you shift a little, creating some friction and getting mark out of his slumber.

he tightly grips your hips, pulling you back on his cock. "stop squirming around," he groans, his breath hitting your uncovered neck, making you shiver slightly.

"sorry..." you mumble back in response, feeling a little embarrassed for not being able to just relax. how is he so calm with your pussy around him? he'd be pounding you down onto the mattress by now.

and just thinking about that has you clenching around mark involuntarily. he definitely felt that.

"baby." he warns you, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips, so, so close to your crotch.

you clench again, and he doesn't like that.

"what did i tell you?" he growls, delivering a sharp slap to your pussy, making you flinch out of surprise.

he takes a hold of your jaw, turning your face to the side so he can look you in the eye. you're speechless, only gulping down as mark looks really pissed off.

"you speak when talked to," he says through gritted teeth, glaring at you with angry eyes, eyebrows frowned. he presses down on your cheeks, and you wince out of pain, forcing your mouth open. "i'm not repeating myself ... what did i tell you?"

"to- to not move!" you say, trying to wiggle your face out of his painful hold, but mark follows your movement, steadying your head in place.

"why are you being a little brat? d'you always need me to dick you down?" he asks, his hand still remaining on your hips inching closer to your heat, nails sinking into your soft skin. "can't think straight with a cock in your stupid, little pussy, huh?"

that's rich coming from him when he's fucking you every chance he gets, but you won't comment on that if you don't want to be in more troubles.

"n-no," you manage to croak out, but it sounds a little sloppy due to your strained neck and mark's hand around your face.

"what was that?"

you inhale, taking in your breath, "no, i can't think straight, so you better fuck some sense into me."

and he chuckles right in your face, the corner of his mouth lifting up into a grin. he eyes you down, looking at your lips before going back up to your eyes.

"want it that bad, huh? little slut."

and he finally pushes you onto your stomach, holding your head down against the pillows. he immediately starts moving his hips back and forth, hard cock sliding between your walls, hitting all the right places that make you scream his name.

he spanks your ass, too, the sound of his skin hitting yours echoing in the room. mark doesn't go easy on you, and he doesn't hold back either, especially not since you quite literally asked him to fuck some sense into you. which he will gladly do.

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | you’re almost a victim… (part 2)

♡ fandoms; House of Wax, Scream (kinda), Hannibal/Silence of the Lambs, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Bo Sinclair, Danny Johnson, Hannibal Lecter

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; mentions of violence and cannibalism, kidnapping, stalking, suggestive content

♡ notes; I’m kinda surprised this prompt won out for a part 2 but very happy lol, I had some fun ideas.

the whole gang is not here, just some kinda kinky guys again- I feel like this doesn’t work super well for every single slasher? only some of them are psychopaths AND perverts

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Bo Sinclair

> bo was having a rough day

> your friends had been putting up one hell of a fight, killing the first four was a huge pain in ass

> so by the time there’s only two of you left, he hasn’t even gotten a proper look at you

> it’s not until you come back to the gas station, wide eyed and begging for help that he finally notices you

> god you’re cute- you can be last

> he drops the nice guy act and gets you to the chair- rough as always and threatening you the whole way

> but then he notices it’s all a lot easier than usual today

> he glances up and can’t help but grin

> your cheeks are bright red and your chest heaving- you like being restrained

> “i’ll be good- promise—“ you mumble before he can be a smart ass

> he gags you anyways, but he praises you as you open your mouth for him to stuff the rag it in

> he can hear you whimper as he does and he’s just itching to leave so he can come back

> he leans over, one hand planted between your legs to steady himself

> he can hear your breathing catch as he simply kisses your forehead, snickering as he leaves

> you were really something

> a pretty, obedient little something that would last way longer than a day if you kept it up

Danny Johnson

> he’s worried you saw the flash of his camera through your window that morning

> he’s normally so careful, he can’t believe he slipped up like that- honestly he’s surprised you didn’t call the cops

> you must have been too groggy, or maybe it wasn’t as dark as he thought it was at the time. maybe you noticed but didn’t put two and two together

> he needs to kill you soon anyways. he’s been watching for a while, and he’s wasting time

> he settles back into his usual spot where he can see perfectly into your bedroom

> he sees you frown just a tad as you pick up the phone call from an “unknown number” - but you still pick up

> “Hi there, doll .”

> he’s called you more than once, this “ghost voice” that’s been terrorizing you- and god is it a nice voice

> a nice voice that says vile things. some of them just violent, some…well some things you like too much

> you can see you make an expression he doesn’t expect. you bite your lip, cheeks pink

> he’s seen that look before…not for Ghostface, of course, but for Danny

> you were easy enough to befriend, and it just gave him more opportunities to keep tabs on you

> like most people he charms, you clearly have a crush on him, and that little lip bite is about the same face you make when he flirts

> maybe he’s just seeing things

> you couldn’t be that perfect.if you were he would have to keep you around

> he continues on and on, observing you carefully

> and you just keep getting more and more flustered, even when he’s threatening to choke you stupid

> “you know you’re so cute when you blush like that,”

> what you say next comes just about as close to scaring him as you can get

> “Thank you, Danny.”

Hannibal Lecter

> you weren’t quite as close to victimhood as one might assume

> but he was a fast killer once he had a mark set- you had to impress him more than a bit to be considered and then ruled out

> you start as his patient

> you’re a meek thing, easy to read and fragile

> you’re practically asking to become an entree

> if you taste as good as you look, you’d be his best dish yet

> it’s not hard to get you alone outside of an appointment

> you’re delighted when he invites you to a dinner party- you’ve heard great things about his little get togethers

> and he even lets you help him get ready, setting the tables

> the conversation become macabre as you discuss some recent murders that police suspected were committed by a cannibal

> that he committed for the sake of the dinner party, naturally

> he corners you before you can realize it - he likes playing cat and mouse

> you giggle nervously and look up at him

> he’s got a hand on the wall above you, and he notices your eyes linger on his toned forearms

> many patients and victims have crushes on him, it’s not surprising or a deterrent

> though it surprised him the gristly conversation wasn’t bothering you

> “yknow, it must be nice to know you’re safe from that serial killer in the neighborhood. If he is a cannibal, he’s most likely to chose someone more sedentary.”

> you leave him there, as if you hadn’t said something so delightfully offputting to find a vase for the table

> maybe he could do some further studying….

[cjlouwho]

Part 2 of my injured Tommy fic.

Tommy watched the clock with distain in his eyes. Every second that ticked by felt like it was mocking him.

Just another second since he left you. Another second since you drove him away. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

He hated that stupid clock.

He also hated that his and Evan's bed was in the living room, and their hallway was covered in plastic sheets for the remodel, and that all their cabinets and countertops had to be lowered, and that he still had to have help when he took a shower or took a shi-

“Knock knock!” Eddie's voice interrupted Tommy's thoughts. Probably a good thing, he figured. He was very close to throwing his stress ball directly at the clock and, hopefully, shattering it to pieces.

“In here,” Tommy said, rolling his eyes afterward. Because of course that's where he was. He was never not in the living room these days.

“I brought new movies and...” his voice drifted as soon as he got a good look at Tommy. “What's wrong?”

Tommy sighed. “Please. It's not like Evan didn't send you.”

“Buck didn't send me. Why would Buck be sending me?”

“Because we fought.”

“Really?” Eddie asked, and if he was faking surprise, he was doing a really good job. “What about?”

“He's...” Tommy huffed. “He's trying to help me all the time and there's some things I wanna do on my own. Too much hovering.”

“S'normal,” Eddie replied. He headed over to the couch to sit.

Tommy turned in the chair to get himself into position to transfer. “Can you pull my arm up a little so I can get on the couch?”

Eddie leaned back, staring at Tommy. “You got it.”

“I don't really ever do transfers by myself, Eddie.”

“Good time to start. Come on,” he patted the couch, “this is way more comfy than the chair.”

“Eddie, I-” he gripped onto the armrests just enough to make himself squirm. “I'm really tired and I'd rather you just help me.”

“Mm. No.”

“No?” Tommy questioned.

Eddie nodded. “Consider it tough love. I know you're not tired, Man. You've got a look on your face that says you're ready for about four or five rounds of Muay Thai. Use up some of that energy to get yourself on the damn couch.”

Tommy wanted to scream. Forget the clock, he wanted to throw the stress ball right at Eddie's head.

He squeezed it harder instead, his nails digging into the ball. “Can you at least not look at me while I do it?” he asked, teeth gritted together.

“What's that matter? I've helped you shower.”

He glared up at Eddie, his cheeks turning red. “You're really pissing me off, Man.”

“I can see that.”

“Can't you leave me the hell alone?!” Tommy yelled. “Go screw up your own life again or something!”

Eddie didn't waver. Face didn't falter for a second. “The great part about us being friends,” he said, leaning toward Tommy ever so slightly, “is that you can't hurt my feelings the same way you can hurt Buck's. You can either stay a grump in that uncomfortable chair, or be a grump on this very comfy couch.”

Tommy huffed and puffed and was fairly sure if humans could breathe fire than there would definitely be some coming out of his nose. He angrily pulled the brakes on his chair, then used all the upper body strength he had to push himself up and onto the couch. It took awhile. A lot longer than he'd like to admit, actually, but eventually he was seated on the couch. He tugged on his sweatpants, straightening out his legs until his feet were flat against the floor. Then he leaned forward and released one of the brakes so he could swivel the chair off to the side.

“Hell yeah!” Eddie cheered, reaching over to smack his hand against Tommy's shoulder.

Tommy would've liked to still be angry with him, but he was too busy gasping for breath. He was also actually a little proud of himself too. “Sorry,” he muttered once he was able to speak again. “I didn't mean what I said. I'm just being an ass today.”

“No problem, Dude. So, why don't you tell me the real reason you fought with Buck?”

“I already did.”

“Please, that was total bull and we both know it. You fought because Buck's trying to help and you don't want it, yet you wanted me to help you? Plus, Buck's been hovering for two months now and you've never said a word even though you can do half this stuff by yourself. Transferring was one of the first things they taught you in the hospital. Real reason.” Eddie snapped his fingers near Tommy's face. “Go.”

“It's stupid.”

“Of course it is. Tell me anyway.”

Tommy ran his hand over his forehead, wiping away the thin layer of sweat that had settled there. “I...” his voice trailed off as he thought about how to say what he'd been thinking. “I feel like he's settling for me now.”

“Buck?” Eddie questioned. “You feel like he's settling?”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay, so dumber than I thought.”

“Eddie.”

“I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Why would you ever think that?”

“Eddie, the guy he fell in love with was a firefighter pilot. Someone who flew through hurricanes and landed helicopters on capsized cruise ships. Not... this,” he said, motioning down at his lower half. “I don't even know what this is anymore.”

“Hm.” Eddie nodded his head, thinking for a moment before responding. “Gotta say, if that's how you feel about Buck, then I'm not sure you know him at all.”

Tommy ran a hand over his eyes, trying to stop them from burning. “That's the stupid part, Eddie, I don't feel that way about Buck. I feel that way about me. I know how irrational it is and I know he still loves me, but there's this voice in the back of my mind that always starts running its mouth.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “I've got one of those too. Sounds like my mother.”

“I think mine's my dad. And me a little bit too.”

“What's the voice say?”

“A lot of things. Mostly, it makes me feel useless. I've always had a plan, Eddie, ever since I was a kid. There was school, and football, and knowing that the second I was old enough I'd do whatever I had to do to get out of my dad's house. Then I had the army, and flying, and after that I went right into being a firefighter. I did that for so long before transferring to Harbor and flying again, but I always had a plan. I was always somebody. I was something. Now I...” he sighed. “I don't know who or what I am. I don't know what to do with my life. And Evan didn't fall in love with that guy. He fell in love with cool, confident Tommy. Which makes me feel like he's settling now, because he could be doing anything.”

His eyes burned. He kept wiping at them, trying to catch each tear before they could fall. “He should be doing anything,” he said, lip trembling. “He's young, and smart, and so damn handsome. He should be living his life, Eddie, not working part time so he can be home with me.” He gave up on the tears, sniffling as they started to fall. “He spends every waking moment either working or taking care of me, and it's not fair to him. It's not.”

Eddie waited. Waited until Tommy's breathing returned to normal and the tears calmed before hitting him with a, “You know you're never gonna walk again, right?”

Tommy looked like all the air had been sucked out of the room. His eyes widened comically as he stared at Eddie, shocked. “I- I'm aware. Thanks?”

Eddie shrugged. “I'm just saying, this all happened like two months ago. That's it. Two months, Tommy. You don't have to have everything figured out yet. Hell, you've got a lot more figured out right now than I do at any given moment.”

“Doesn't feel that way. Feels like everything's a mess, and I'm a burden. We're having to use all my savings for the renovations, and Buck's taking care of all the bills while only working part time, and paying Carla to take care of me when he's working. Then he's coming home to do PT with me and cook for me and help me use the damn bathroom.” His voice cracked again at the last admission, but he cleared his throat and continued. “God, Eddie, he was so upset but he still asked if I needed to use the bathroom before he left.”

“So that's what it was all really about then?” Eddie asked. “You were just trying to push him away?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I think so. And I know this part isn't forever. I'll figure out the cooking once the kitchen is done, I'll learn new ways to exercise, we'll have an actual bedroom again, I'll be able to transfer to the toilet and into the shower. It's not that I mind the help, because you're right, I love the fact he takes care of me. I just hate that he has to. I don't want to hold him back. Don't want him to have regrets.”

“Man, your brain really is working overtime,” Eddie said, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “It's wrong, by the way, your brain I mean. Buck's obsessed with you still. Like, obnoxiously so. He's always looking at the clock, waiting to get home to you. He tries out PT exercises on us, researches meals that'll give you enough protein to keep up your upper body strength. Won't shut up about you on calls.” He laughed when he saw a smile playing on Tommy's face. “Seriously, last week we had this woman on a stretcher who happened to have a husband named Tommy, and Buck just lights up. Starts going on and on about how he has a fiancé named Tommy who has taught him all about monster trucks, and shown him all these movies, and is the coolest, and sweetest, and hottest, man he's ever met. No joke, Tommy, the woman asked if we could give her a sedative so she wouldn't have to listen anymore.”

Tommy laughed at that, some of the stress visibly leaving his body. “If you ask Carla, she'd say the same thing,” he admitted. “Evan's all I talk about, all day long. I know it has to drive her nuts.”

“You two love birds are meant for each other, whether your dad in your head likes it or not. And if you really think Buck's gonna leave you because of one stupid fight... you're dumber than I thought.”

“He's right.” The sound of Buck's voice made both Eddie and Tommy turn toward the living room entryway. “I mean, not about the dumb part. But, thinking I'll leave you.”

“I- I didn't hear you get home,” Tommy said nervously. He eyed Buck up and down, like he was expecting him to have physically changed in the last two hours.

“I was quiet, I guess.” He glanced at the wheelchair, then at Tommy on the couch. “You transferred.” It wasn't a question.

Tommy nodded. “Yeah, I did. Took a hot minute, but I did it.”

“Did Eddie harass you into it?”

Tommy smiled softly. “It's a very effective method, apparently.”

“I'll have to stick around next time,” Buck replied, smiling back, “and take notes.”

Eddie's eyes shifted between the two of them, noticing that they couldn't seem to stop staring at each other.

“I think my work here is done,” he said, getting up and giving Tommy a pat on the leg. “See ya, Man.”

Tommy cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah. Bye, Eddie.”

He squeezed Buck's shoulder as he passed by. “See you tomorrow.”

Buck smiled at him. “See ya.”

They stayed silent until the door shut, leaving the two of them alone.

“I'm so sorry I snapped at you.” Tommy inwardly cursed at the fact he couldn't seem to stop himself from getting emotional anymore.

“I'm sorry I hovered.”

“That's not... Evan, that's not why I really got upset.”

“Yeah, I figured. I've been here for a while, actually, I just... I haven't heard you open up like that since the accident.”

“Can you come here?” Tommy asked, patting his lap. As Buck walked over, Tommy held out his hand. Buck took it as he sat beside him on the couch, gently resting his legs over Tommy's. “I don't want you thinking I'm not thankful for everything you've done. I am endlessly grateful, Evan.”

“I don't want you thinking you're not enough for me.” Tommy looked down as Buck spoke, until Buck hooked two fingers under Tommy's chin and tilted his head up so their eyes met. “My love for you has never been based on your job, or what you're capable of. I love you. I love your personality, and your smile, and how you care about people, and how you always seem to know when I'm not okay, and how you listen. All of it. You still have everything that makes you you, Tommy. Everything I love is still right here,” he said, placing a hand over Tommy's heart.

Tommy reached up and placed his hand over Buck's. “We were supposed to get married today,” he said, his lip trembling.

Buck nodded, tears in his eyes. “I know.”

“Would you... Would you still want to?”

Buck froze. “Are- Are you serious?”

Tommy nodded. “I still want a real wedding, sometime soon. But, I really just wanna be married to you.”

“Eddie probably hasn't gotten too far yet,” Buck said, practically jumping up to pull his phone out of his pocket. “He could come back; be our witness?”

“Good idea. I'll get back in my chair so I'm ready when he gets here.”

“Need any help?” Buck asked, phone to his ear as he waited for Eddie to pick up.

“That's okay,” Tommy answered with a smile. “I got it.”

[eldritch-spouse]

Reader who’s in Sybastian’s labyrinth and is tired and horny. They decide if they’re going to go out they are going to at least relive themselves so they hop on a bed and get to it. The bed seems weirdly shaky to them but they just assume it’s that they’re just getting really into it. (Un)fortunately for them the mimiced bed decided it wasn’t going to kill this human I mean if you expose your self to him you have to be their mate!

[Fem reader]

TW: Dubious consent; Mentions of gore; Excessive drool; Squirting.

Sybastian spared you little thought at first.

It only took a few months of participating in Vinnel's game to understand how to profile his catches a lot better. He knows who the clever ones will be, the troublemakers that kick and bite, the overly paranoid, and the ones that are so incredibly stupid he almost feels gross getting rid of them.

You didn't fit into any category, when Sybastian first saw you, his mind lumped you into the "standard" group and he moved on to the assumed challenging targets.

This hunt has singlehandedly made the mimic question his own profiling skills.

First, he mistakes the smartass for someone who actually knows what he's doing, and manages to tear into him in no time. Then, a girl who froze at the sight of him actually managed to make him trip, alerting the whole group.

He's had to try to catch the same people several times just because he's failed so drastically in his attempts to gouge their attitudes, and he's sure the jester is cackling behind his many screens upstairs, relaying Syb's failures to the audience like a verbal paddling.

Naturally at this point, Sybastian was wrong about you too.

Because he sure as shit didn't expect you to be the last one standing.

That's not all though. Not only are you the cream of this crop, your savvy side seemed to completely expire as soon as you realized everyone had perished. It's as if you deflated.

Yet, instead of crouching down in a corner to scream your lungs out, or crawling under somewhere to pretend you can hide forever, or simply start pounding at the doors until your nails chip into pieces...

You pace the bedroom where Sybastian disguises himself as a bed. Back and forth, silent footsteps on a carpeted floor. You were smart to discard your footwear and avoid the wooden floors, Lord knows they're made to creak at the slightest miscalculation.

He couldn't help but wonder what was in his prey's mind.

Now that he can see you a little closer, you're one of those pretty humans. At least, the ones he thinks are prettier. The kind he likes to pet on their hair and run his fingers all over. Pretty thing with pretty meaty thighs and a juicy ass. He didn't quite know if he wanted to bite you or lash his tongue against every crevice of skin he could see. It was good that you were the last one, the others weren't as nice-looking.

What could you possibly be thinking of, in that moment? So concentrated, so serious, he could almost have fooled himself into thinking you were on the cusp of hatching a plan.

He didn't think it'd be this...

He didn't think you'd take off your pants. Could hardly believe his concealed eyes when you laid upon him, giving him a spectacular view of your panty-covered goods before he felt the softness of your skin on him.

He shuddered, but if you noticed, it didn't stop you from getting comfortable, adjusting your underwear and playing with yourself.

Sybastian has been sweating for a while now. He hopes you're dumb enough to think the sudden moisture is sweat from your little session. Truth of the matter is that mimic has never had this happen to him. He's never had someone sit on him while in disguise and start masturbating.

Sure, he's been a bench to a few couples drunkenly making out, but it doesn't last long before he's got at least one of them in his jaws.

Nevertheless, this has proved to be a special kind of arousing to the mimic, who relishes the feedback of your movement and desperately tries to shift the position of his eyes so he can get a better view. He's daring enough to catch a glimpse between the sheets you crumpled, locked into the motion of your fingers as you dip an index and middle digit into a wet cunt and clumsily circle your clit with the remaining hand.

You seem rushed, desperate, trying your damndest to rip an orgasm out of yourself for reasons that he can't understand. None of Santi's fluids were utilized in the making of today's traps, so it's not as if you're in an incubus-induced frenzy. He's perplexed, but far from complaining.

Is it that you want him to find you? What a little freak you are, waiting for the big bad thing that's been picking you all off one by one to show itself...

He wonders what you'd do if he rushed into this room, if he wasn't the very bed you're being depraved on. Would you lift your ass and invite him, beg him to please have mercy? Hoping and praying that maybe the offer of your gorgeous body could keep him subdued, could distract him. Cute as you are, not a bad strategy, he'd say.

Syb makes a rumble of delight when the first sounds start tumbling out your lips. Little stressed mewls and gasps that have him this close to losing his mind. Somewhere in his modified form, the monster's cock swells and his need starts to become unbearable. He was never the master of self-control, these games just drive him that much wilder. Drool seeps to the ground when his long, gross tongue peeks beneath the mattress. Sybastian slowly allows his arms to emerge from under the bed, giving them more and more mass while they reach upwards.

With your eyes closed in focused pleasure, you could never hope to see those claws hovering in the air, inches from making contact. The mimic is swift to lock one of said hands around your throat, keeping you pinned to the faux mattress by the neck. The scream he assumes you were going to belt out becomes no more than a surprised cough.

Naturally, he expects the following tantrum. Flailing like a fish out of water, your shrill noises of confusion and terror only excite him further, though the mimic is patient, allowing you to tire yourself out for the time being, rumbling lowly like an engine on standby. Eventually, much to his liking, your motions slow down, vastly due to the realization that the monstrous hand around your neck is static. You breathe rapidly on him, body still overheated and wet.

Syb's reward is a softer hold of the vital location, his remaining hand shamelessly groping the leg closest to it. He doesn't let you have any time to think or react, because one second he's rubbing your thigh, the next he's cupping your belly and slipping fingers between your soaked cuntlips, grabbing you quite literally by the core.

He's excited and rough, able to hear your prior terrorized noises turn into confusion and discomfort. An improvement, in his opinion. Sybastian brushes your clitoris more accidentally than purposely, and the reflexive squirm of your legs paired with the whimper that you let out is what makes him lose composure.

Your poor body nearly tumbles to the carpet when the very furniture you laid on transforms before your eyes, into a looming, lanky monster with a purple chest for head, rows of misaligned teeth decorating the edges of that maw, gangly arms just as long as his legs protruding from it. He makes sure to not let you fall face first, but that might have been a bad idea, because when your doe eyes lock with his acidic yellow ones, you scream again.

Sybastian only tilts his head. It'd be pretty funny if you started running now. He'd have to go after you with an erection, with isn't very comfortable, but it'd be entertaining.

Instead, you shakily crawl back, hues widening like saucers when he brings his own stained fingers to his giant maw and calmly laps the traces of slick off them.

" What... What the fuck are you? "

If he was any other, more dignified type of monster, Sybastian would have felt offended.

" ... Syb. " He grunts out.

You don't look very satisfied with that answer. Unfortunately, you're neither talking nor moving, and his excitement won't let the mimic prolong this pause.

" Want to play. " He points at you, nodding. " I want too. Come. "

The mimic watches your face grow heated, little eyes darting everywhere but him after they catch sight of the tented loincloth doing absolutely nothing to conceal his arousal. He doesn't care to hide it either. You should look, you'll be getting acquainted soon anyway.

" N- No. No, I wasn't... "

Sybastian snickers, mocking. " Was was... I felt. "

Nervousness makes your throat bob.

" I liked. " He adds. " Naughty. Come. "

Sybastian adds more intensity to his poorly constructed coaxing, something you seem to pick up on. A healthy amount of self-preservation is, presumably, what stops you from flailing again when the mimic traces a claw over your ankle, scooting closer.

Sybastian eyes you like a hawk. There's little question, if you make stupid moves, you'll be punished.

Fortunately, you're smarter than that, allowing him to sit right next to your tense figure. Syb likes to think he's being gentle when he pushes the fabric of your shirt up, reaching your collarbone, inhuman eyes widening as you eventually take it off on your own.

Cooperation, from the humans he snags? Now isn't this novel. His cock all but throbs in response.

He laments to see that piece of chest padding your particular type of human tends to don, and his patience does have limits, because he simply uses a claw to rend the thin middle portion apart and free your chest to him.

You have pretty breasts.

Well, a lot of humans do in Sybastian's opinion, but yours have him salivating harder, those soft points visibly perked by your prior activities. The monster rumbles with giddiness, almost unable to belive a catch as appetizing as you landed in his grasp.

He roughly discards his own scant coverings and wastes no time using long arms to drag you closer, skin on skin contact having the mimic rumbling.

" Beautiful mate...! "

He praises, admiring your reaction when a blue tongue longer than your leg unfurls from his gaping maw. You lot always seem to squirm and gawk, and much to his ceaseless amusement today, he gets to see something more than just awe in your gaze. Curiosity.

There's little to no warning before the very same muscle rudely swipes across your chest, clumsily soaking your tits in warm drool while the monster chuckles at the yelp you let out. He savors them like he doesn't get to do this often, finally rolling that clapper between your breasts and easily allowing it to slink downward, across your softer portions and flicking the end of it around your mound.

" Stretch you nice... "

Sybastian sounds delirious even to himself, angling your legs a little roughly just so he can see what he's doing. Your flushed folds stare at him invitingly, he can only imagine what they'll feel like hugging his cock, but your kind is small and frail, he's learned he has to make you sticky and loose first. Whatever you were expecting when your wide eyes glanced down, it certainly wasn't the speed and dexterity that ravished your pussy.

He's never been one to play footsie, or tease, not when he's the one who's been teased to madness by your dirty little show. Sybastian's laps across your cunt are hard and fast, nearly jostling your lower body with their intensity, the pressure against your clit hardly giving you time to gasp in-between each harsh swipe. Not that it lasts long, he's shoving a drool-soaked tip inside far too quickly, trying to worm as much of himself in as he can before he's forced to give you room to breathe and adjust.

The monster beams down at you, his restless spidery hands stroking your thighs, a twitch of his member at every jolt of your legs when he hits something special. Syb can only hum and moan at the taste of your arousal before he's undulating his tongue forcefully, the grip of your inner walls doing nothing to stop him from making space. He salivates even more, a pool of drool drenching the space between your legs and the floor as Syb instinctively tilts his head, as if it could somehow shove him deeper into your poor vaginal canal.

The monster's eyes squint, studying your reactions when you jerk and cry in sudden pleasure. He doesn't like to gloat, but he thinks he's got the science down to make pretty little things like you explode all over his tongue. And if he's not wrong, you're about to give him just that. Impatient, the mimic paws at you until he can get a better feel of your clit, hoping that rolling the nub between his digits while his tongue presses into every crevice of you does the trick.

In no time at all, your undignified noises of animal delight are chocked by a sudden inhale as you tense and freeze. The contractions of your muscles signal his victory, Sybastian all but rips his tongue away to keep torturing your little pearl while you erupt beautifully for him. He laughs and rumbles pridefully when you try to twist away in overstimulation. It could be shame too, but he hardly cares, there's no need to feel ashamed of something so hot.

A lot of monsters can't squirt like this. You though? He wishes he could spend a whole day making you burst over and over-

Giggling a couple more times, the monster finally allows your twitching form to get some rest, peeling away slowly to bask in the mess he's made of you. He makes no secret of his enjoyment, moaning when the flavor coats every inch of his mouth and dropping a hand to his aching cock. The pumping is furious and fast, but not enough, not compared to what you could be doing for him right now

While you pant and huff, the monster grabs you by the neck, careful -Oh ever careful- not to stick his claws where they're unwanted. Not to twist anything wrong. You're smart, smart enough to know you shouldn't jerk your neck or move much in his hold. He can say he's grateful for that, later.

At the moment, Sybastian pulls you closer, slapping something hot and throbbing against your cheek. The way you try to side-eye his dick from this position is hilarious to him.

" ... Say thanks. "

Said shaft bumps against the side of your face tauntingly a couple more times, until his grip eventually lessens and you're allowed to see what you'll be working with more closely.

There are many things a monster like him can flex over humans, and you've come to see plenty today. His speed, his strength, his durability, his tongue... It should come as no surprise that his size would also feature in that list.

Thankfully for you, Sybastian can muster some modicum of patience for this moment, watching the gears turn in that little head as you try to think of how to best please him. One of your hands grabs him by the root, the other cups his balls, your initial attempt to fit him in your mouth fails. On the second one, you manage to at least get a decent portion in, making the mimic pant at the sight of your plush lips wrapped around him.

Chains clink when the mimic lifts his hands, ready to grab you and start fucking into your hot mouth, though he's beaten to it by your own sudden enthusiasm, putting every ounce of effort into making sure he stays still.

Clever girl, you know he'd just hold you down and make you choke.

Syb supposes he can give you that mercy, you're so responsive after all, he's certain you're the perfect mate for him. The way you slurp and hum around his girth is only compounding on this.

As pretty as you look working at him, the mimic's legs are tense enough to snap and he's leaking precum at an alarming rate, so you're nudged off his flushed cock with hesitation.

For a brief moment, Sybastian considers getting you out of this trap and finishing it all somewhere more comfortable. But then he looks at the clear-ish shine on your lips, the peaks of your tits and those cute eyes so focused on his every reaction... No, he doesn't think he can wait.

" Want you bad-! " He all but whines.

It's all too easy to maneuver you however he likes, ending up in the position worthy of a rutting creature, the monster draping over you on all fours. He's long enough to curve his chest of a head and stare back at you when the tip of his slobbered dick teases your opening, beady pupils full of mischief and lust. Although there's mild worry painted on your expression, you spread your legs the smallest amount.

And that's all he needs.

He thinks, pounding into you, seeing your teary eyes glaze in a trance, your mouth hanging open yet silent, it'll be hard to keep such an appetizing little thing away from the others...

The first thrust is drawn out and intense, the two of you groaning in bursts of sensation. He only stops when he's hilted, grinding a bit to milk the perfect grip of your pussy kissing his cockhead. That's the one respite you're allowed before he starts snapping his hips against yours hard enough to clap, snarling and digging dents into the poor ground.

Better it than you.

But maybe, if he fills you up well enough, if he breeds you so hard that the scent of him never leaves, they'll get the message.

[arminsumi]

we've had ex geto... but what about ex gojo?

YOUR FAVORITE EX

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

Note : ooo... ex gojo 🤤 hope u likey

Warnings : 🔞 minors do not read/interact : contains smut/explicit content, kinda toxic themes, some angst, baby trapping, pregnancy, dirty talk, unprotected sex + creampies, possessiveness

Playme : streets

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works / oct. reqs open

Ex!Gojo makes the break up everyone's business. And of course it's you breaking up with his obnoxious, overdramatic ass. Multiple times, too. You two have broken up so many times in fact that your friends just don't take it seriously anymore when you announce "We're breaking up". That just means "We're getting back together in two weeks (lol)."

Ex!Gojo pulls the "I can't find anyone like you" and the "Aw, don't be like that, baby" cards on you.

Ex!Gojo claims to be your favorite ex. Yeah you hate him... buuut he's still your favorite... right? Right? He'll nag you to admit it. It makes his heart flutter and ego swell bigger than his head.

Ex!Gojo is a menace, always deterring your potential new lovers and declining dates on your behalf. He gives you a stupid excuse with that cheeky smirk, "What? It's not like they could love you better than me, anyways. I'm the best. Don't waste your time. Just come back to me, yeah? You know my arms are still open to you."

Ex!Gojo doesn't act like an ex at all. He still kisses you. Still hugs you. Invites you for every party. Visits your apartment at 2 AM when he's drunk and rambles to you about all the crazy things he always rambled about at 2 AM. And you don't treat him like an ex because... his kisses put you in a trance. Then you realize oh, we're broken up, what the hell.

Ex!Gojo clings to your body and holds it with the same possessiveness that he always used to. He places his big hand on your hip and grips it tight, especially at parties. "Stay close to me."

Ex!Gojo taunts you during those late-night hatefucks, "You missed this fat cock fucking up your guts, huh? I know you did. Don't you fucking lie to me." while he's balls deep in you, skin slapping loudly against yours in the backseat of his car. He just kindly offered you a drive home, and then one thing led to another and you ended up on his lap having his big hands moving your hips up and down. "That's it, admit how much you missed me 'n bounce on this cock, baby. Admit it."

Ex!Gojo fucks you harder when he's your ex, making sure you're super full and stuffed with his cock. He loves molding your tiny hole to accommodate his shape, hitting your sweet spots with mean pounding thrusts until you scream those three little words for him. "I miss you!" he smiles when he hears this, presses his forehead to yours and coos while cumming inside, "Missed you too, baby. Missed this pussy. You know it's m-mine forever, don't you? No one can fuck you better than I can..." and it's true, no one knows the map of your sweet spots and erogenous zones better than he does. He's masterful at pleasuring you.

Ex!Gojo cums inside you more than he did while you two were dating. Who knows why. Seems like his animalistic, primal brain kicked in and he thought well if I put a baby in you... you'll have a piece of me forever. You'll have to come back to me. And his seed is potent. You bet you're getting pregnant. He has the wolfiest smile when you bitterly show him the pregnancy test. "Ooh, baby I'm so proud of that little pussy for getting pregnant. Let's have a celebratory fuck."

Ex!Gojo knows that no matter where you go, he'll always find you. His high school sweetheart. His five year girlfriend. The mother of his child. The only woman that's ever had such a strong hold on him. The only one he's ever been weakened by.

Ex!Gojo cries sometimes after creaming up inside your pussy, "Please come back... I miss you so bad..." and starts sobbing like a puppy into the crook of your neck when you run your fingers through his snowy hair.

Ex!Gojo feels his broken heart get pieced back together when you finally return to him. And just like that, he slots half his soul into yours. "Baby... you're the best thing this world ever gave me. Just let me marry you, please..."

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[seeingivy]

birthmark 

satoru gojo x f!reader 

satoru’s suddenly more appreciative of scars 

content warning: MANGA SPOILERS, canon divergence bc im not gege and they all deserve to be happy, reader described as pregnant, giving birth/c-section, hospitals, pain (kinda), big brother megumi + tsumiki, lil corny family, 

an: happy fathers day to our fav dad :DDD reader is described as having dark hair in comparison to satoru but tbh every hair color is dark compared to white unless you have white hair them im sorry

- 

“Hi baby.” 

“What do you want, Satoru?” 

“I wasn’t talking to you.” 

You take your eyes off from the screen to find Satoru lying across the couch, his head very close to your stomach. His blindfold is hanging around his neck, his shiny, blue eyes staring right at the bump. 

“He doesn’t have ears yet.” 

“You don’t know that. We have father-daughter telepathy. She can hear me.” 

“If anyone was going to have telepathy with him, because he is most definitely a boy, it’s going to be me.” 

He rolls his eyes, lying his head against your stomach as he continues staring down - his eyes focused. You reach down, pressing your hand in his hair as you start carding through his white locks. 

“What were you like as a baby, Toru?” 

“Horrible. Came out super late, cried all the time, total sweet tooth.” 

“I asked about you as a baby. Not now.” 

He rolls his eyes, sitting up to ruffle your hair. You shrug him off before leaning your head against his shoulder, his hand placed directly on your stomach, which he does almost every time he’s near you. You can hear his stupid voice in your head. She has to know I’m here too, not just you mama. 

“Shut up. Stop bad mouthing me in front of our child. That’s not a healthy parenting model.” 

“You screamed my head off for throwing out your precious kikufuku in front of Megumi last week. Healthy parenting model, my ass.” 

“Well some things are just unforgivable, sweetheart. And he’s a big boy now.” 

He leans over and presses a kiss to the top of your head, before pressing his cheek against your hair. “What was my baby like as a baby?” 

“I came out super early. I think they had to stay in the hospital for a few days because I was too weak. But after that, I think it was okay.” 

He leans over, pressing himself harder into your frame as he squeezes. You place your hands in his hair again, running through as you wait for him to talk. He’s thinking - too hard. 

You understood that a baby, a real one - not grown up and super self sufficient like Tsumiki and Megumi were - was anxiety inducing. But ever since you had told him, Satoru was stressed out, more than usual. Shoulders always tensed up, freaking out over painting the room or assembling a crib, or picking a godfather. 

“Love?” 

“Yes, Satoru?” 

“Do you think…the baby will be scared of me?” 

“Because you’re the strongest? Of course, not. Megumi and Tsumiki always thought it was so cool when they were little, smacking their tiny little hands against it while laughing.” 

“No, no. Not because of that.” 

You push your palms against his cheeks, pulling his face out of the crook of your neck. He looks into your eyes, the look shy. His eyes waver down to his arms, littered in scars, before looking back up. And now you get it. He’s talking about his scars. 

They’ve faded over the years, from back when Megumi was still possessed by Sukuna. You remember when they were angry, red and fresh, when he came home, and nearly made your heart drop out of your chest. 

And when it was well and over, you had kissed them hundreds and hundreds of times over until Satoru knew, with full confidence, that you love him. And Megumi had apologized, millions of times before he understood that none of it was his fault. You love Satoru. Scars and all. And you love Megumi. Possession and all. 

“Satoru. You know that we all-” 

He shrugs you off, the look exasperated. 

“I know you guys love me. But I’m talking about the baby. There’s just so many of them and they’ve faded a good amount but-” 

You lean over and press your lips to his, kissing him softly before you let go. You can feel him deflate at the sensation, giving you the smallest of smiles when you pull apart. 

“You guys have father-daughter telepathy. She could never be scared of you.” 

You see the smile spread across his face as he rolls his eyes at you, shaking you at the shoulders. 

“So you agree? She’s a girl.” 

“No. He is most definitely a boy. But I’ll let you have it for tonight.” 

“You’re so generous.” 

“I know Satoru, it’s one of the best things about me.” 

You feel him cup his hands around your face as he presses a light kiss to your nose. 

“Yes. It is.” 

“I was being sarcastic.” 

“I know that, love. But I wasn’t.” 

- 

Unlike Satoru and much more like you, your baby is born early. What you thought was a routine ultrasound turned into an emergency c-section and your little baby coming a little earlier than you had planned. 

That was hours ago. Satoru has been watching you, your chest heaving up and down as you sleep, since they moved to this room. Your daughter, because Satoru was right, was down the hall in the NICU, in a tiny little plastic incubator. With Megumi and Tsumiki. 

This day had already been too hard for Satoru. And it wasn’t even over yet. Watching you get pushed onto a table, your baby coming out and not crying, finding out it was a girl but you weren’t even conscious enough for him to stick it to you, having to pick who to spend his time with. 

He picked you. Because Megumi promised that he’d watch her there, make sure she wasn’t alone. He knows how much it meant to the two of you to get to meet her together so he’ll wait. I mean, that is his little sister and all, he doesn’t mind watching her. After Satoru agreed, he couldn’t help but smile at Megumi, literally sprinting down the hall to meet her where Tsumiki was waiting. 

He watches you shuffle in your sleep, your eyes fluttering open. He nearly knocks the table as he stands up, placing his hands on your arms as you wake up. 

“Satoru.”

“Love, oh my god, I was waiting for you. To wake up, I mean. Are-are you okay? Does anything hurt? Do you want me to get anything?” 

He watches your eyes pinch shut as you raise your hand, clamping it right across his mouth. Your little raspy voice breaks out and he can feel the tears streaming down his eyes at the sound of it. 

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” 

He can’t help but laugh, the tears still streaming down. God, he loves you. Bedridden and still giving him fucking attitude. You’re okay and sassing him around and he loves you. 

He watches the smile spread across your face as you keep your hand there, now wiping his tears off. You look around the room, the crib still neatly made. 

“Wait, where’s-” 

“Down the hall. Megumi’s there with her.” 

“Her? It’s a girl?” 

You can feel the pride bustling in your chest, the tears now filling in your eyes. She’s a girl. Your tiny little baby that you were carrying for the past months was a girl. You can buy her little dresses and teach Satoru how to braid her hair and-

“Told you so.” 

“Shut the fuck up. I know you’re not sticking it to me while I’m literally in a hospital bed. Need I remind you, that you did this to me.” 

“How did I do this to you?” 

“You knocked me up!” 

You both laugh as Satoru helps you up into the wheelchair, pushing you both down the hallway to where she was. 

“You see her yet? Is she cute?”

“No, it’s only been a few hours. I wanted to see her together.” 

He swings the door open, pushing you to the front into the room. You can see Megumi seated right next to the little box, his hand inside with Tsumiki watching from the other side, her eyes focused on the crib. 

But you don’t take notice of your baby first. What you notice first is the shirts Megumi and Tsumiki are wearing, matching pink that say “big brother” and “big sister.” 

“Satoru. Don’t tell me you guilt tripped them into wearing the shirts.” 

They both run over at the sound of your voice, pressing you into a hug. You reach forward, resting both of your hands in their hair as they help you up, holding you steady in the air and running their eyes over you to make sure you’re okay. 

Satoru had bought the five of you matching shirts to wear when the baby was going to be discharged. And they were corny as fuck. With dad, mom, big sister, big brother, and baby written on them. Megumi said he was going to burn his in a fire. You and Tsumiki hid yours somewhere in the basement, pretending you lost them. Satoru found them in five minutes. But here they are, wearing them. 

“You don’t have to wear those. I’m sure he pulled the whole, my wife is dying, my baby is sick but-” 

“I didn’t ask them to wear those. At least not today.” 

You look over to find Satoru smirking, worst than he ever as before, at Megumi especially, as he starts ruffling his hair, cooing over how cute he was. 

“Just, shut up about it. I thought it would make your depressed ass laugh.” 

“Toru, quit bugging him.” 

You press a kiss to Megumi’s cheek before Satoru crushes him in a hug. He’s always been your sweet boy. 

You and Satoru slowly shuffle over to the little box, sticking your hands in to hold hers. Her eyes are pinched shut, a tuft of dark hair at the top of her head. You can feel the tears rising in your eyes, quickly glancing over to see Satoru crying too. Megumi and Tsumiki are on the other side, directly across, sweet smiles pressed on their faces.   

“Dark hair, Toru.” 

“Just like her mom.” 

You both can’t help but stare at her, rustling around in the little crib. But what catches your eye is the dark patch of red on her left eye, instinctively reaching over to touch it. 

“Megumi. What happened?” 

“We think it might be a scar or something. The doctors said she’s okay though, it doesn’t hurt her or anything.” 

You immediately crane her head over to Satoru, whose switched spots with you and is now softly pressing his fingers over the skin. You lean over, whispering in his ear as you both watch her. 

“Think she looks scary with her scar, Satoru?” 

“What the hell are you talking about? She’s perfect.” 

“You guys match. A scar for her and a scar for you.” 

He looks over and you watch the realization spread across his face as he understands what you’re getting at. He gives you a sweet look before pressing one the softest kisses to the top of your hair. He’s crying even harder now, his entire frame shaking. Fucking sap. 

She curls her hands into Satoru’s, squeezing his pinkie finger. 

“What the hell, Toru? She didn’t do that for me.” 

“It’s father-daughter telepathy, love. You wouldn’t get it.” 

[r0-boat]

Asmodeus as the father of your kids

I know canonically Asmodeus can't have kids let's just use our imaginations ✨

SFW! Suggestive! No sex but heavily suggestive because Asmodeus.

Cw: children, pregnancy, birth.

From pregnancy to delivery and after he is the most doting and gentle father. From rubbing your sore feet to helping you with anything you desire. He'll do it with a soft smile in his face and hearts in his eyes because he sees you as the most beautiful creature in all of hell, heaven and Earth.

The Great and feared Demon King of Lust is now wrapped around your little finger. Asmodeus worships the ground you walk on and worships you in other ways ;)

This is the same guy who said he'd clip your toenails for you. You won't be doing anything again once you're pregnant with that man's baby.

Mama/mother/mommy/ma is now your new nickname; He will never stop, even if you ask him to.

He definitely want more kids personally, but honestly 100% he would be okay with whatever number you pick of how many kids you want because he would just be happy to be a father again.

You don't need to do anything because he's already baby-proofed and bought everything. He is screaming with Joy as he brings out the old baby stuff he used to have from the first time he had kids. Yes, it might be a little old.... A couple of centuries, to be exact... But he is sure they are still working. You would not be using century-old baby stuff, But Asmodeus seems insistent; you try coaxing him to shop for the baby... Oh, that Got his attention.

Honestly, from how excited he was, it started to feel like he was the one having the baby and not you. He promises he'll be on his best behavior; absolutely no sexual shenanigans, as you not only go to the human world for shopping but also Tartaros.

"No, Asmodeus, we can't take this all back...*

"Yes, we can. I have the space, And I'm paying for it anyway~"

Your and your baby's health is his TOP priority. Anything that harms or stresses you in any way is considered the scum of the earth, and wants them eradicated this instant in 0.5 seconds.

He wants to do everything when it comes to baby stuff, everything baby showers, gender reveals, every and all baby trend imaginable that he has seen over the years but he has never gotten to do, from picking out a starter Pokémon plushie to trying out baby products on devil social media. Yeah, he's definitely going a little loonie. You might want to calm him down.

He never thought he'd feel this fuzzy feeling in his chest again, watching you cradle your newborn child in your arms. His arms shake, and there is anticipation and nervousness as you hand him his child. He looks at you with a pair of love as he kisses you and whispers, "Thank you."

Asmodeus probably has an entire list of baby names, but at the end of the day, He would ask you what You're going to name the child, and whatever name you pick, he would adore.

His descendants also know, And he desperately wants them to meet their new sibling.

If the kings thought he was annoying before talking about his descendants... OH MY GOD. Tapping his mouth shut won't stop him from talking about his child. He has five drives and two phones with pictures full of his newborn baby, some photos of your pregnancy, and photos of you cuddling and falling asleep with the baby in your arms.

Levi texting you: "Please, why did you make a baby with that insufferable fuck? I can't stand his ass. If he says one more thing about that stupid crotch fruit, I'm making you a widow and becoming the stepfather!"

Mammon spoils his kid with wealth. Asmodeus coddles his kid. No matter how old they grow, they will always be his little baby!

I like to think that there's some daughter or child who would be like the MC of Love Unholyc, where they enjoy spending their time inside playing video games and watching anime. Their last only shows when it's for fictional characters. Pouring all that lust into fan fiction, thirsty furry fan art, or a fictional character they're super obsessed with. But when it comes to the actual act itself, They would start covering their ears and eyes out of embarrassment. They're the person making the super-thirsty JJK edits.

Laughing my ass off imagining the family dynamic is being Saiki K. with his parents

Asmodeus: *tossing vegetables in a pan*

MC: Honey you don't have to be so rough~

Asmodeus: Oh I know you like it rough ;)

Asmo's!Kid: OH MY GOD WHYYY!??

[rosenclaws]

hello!! do you have any thoughts on what Eddie Alden is like in bed?

also you're my favorite author on tumblr 😁

omg thank you anon!! AND YES FINALLY I CAN TALK ABOUT EDDIEEEE

warnings: MINORS DNI!!!, afab!reader, fingering, riding, Eddie is flirtyy

Sex with Eddie Alden headcanons

Okay Eddie is a little slutty and you know what that is okay. I mean god he’s so hot in that movie i’m actually obsessed with him.

He’s a total fucking flirt oh my god. Flirty words and very flirty touches. He’s the kind of guy to put his hand next to your head and lean in close and smile with his stupid perfect teeth.

Even though he’s insanely cocky he can really back it up in bed. I mean first he’s insanely hot like god 2001 Hugh Jackman is insane.

He starts out with a make out session. His hands slipping under your clothes, touching and squeezing every bit of skin he can get.

When I say cocky I mean really fucking cocky.

“Making all those sounds for me baby?”

That man is relentless. He guides you back against every damn surface of his place. The kitchen counter, the wall, the door, and finally his bed. He 100% sticks his hand into your pants btw. Like unbuttons your pants with skill and sticks his hand in your panties.

His fingers are fucking magic. They’re thick and long and fuck he knows how to use them. He goes slow at first to tease you. He 100% makes you beg for it.

“You need what? Use your words.”

After he makes you come on his fingers and makes you scream his name he gets undressed and fuck is he HOT. I’m sorry I just can’t get enough of Eddie.

I think he likes a variety of positions. Doggy, missionary, prone bone, against the wall. I mean you name it.

He also has a praise kink but it’s more you praising him. He lives for how much he can make you scream.

He’s rougher for sure but can also give it nice and slow. Mostly to be a tease. I think he’s a big ass guy. Like checking out your ass every time you walk by him. So I think he likes positions where you're on your stomach mostly.

Okay low key I don't think he's big on kissing in bed at first because it's almost too intimate for him. Like yeah he just made out with you but looking you in your eyes and kissing while he's balls deep is a little too much connection for him.

He's scared of getting attached and that's why he has so many one night stands.

He's also a massive talker. Like he cannot shut up once he's inside of you holy. Won't stop telling you how good you feel and taunting you too. Asking if you feel good, asking if its too much and if he's too big.

He can also go for multiple rounds too. Like just give him a cigarette and 10 minutes and he's back watching you ride him.

OH FUCK RIDING EDDIE WHILE HE SMOKES. Jesus that sounds so fucking hot.

He'd thrust up roughly at random times too just to keep you on your toes. Smirk when you whine at him to quit it (you absolutely don't want him to stop).

He can't stop watching where your cunt just sucks up his dick over and over again. He also lets you steal a couple drags of his cigarette.

After a while I think he'd get impatient and switch positions so he could rail the living daylights out of you.

He may not be ready for emotional connection but he'll be dammed if he doesn't give some good after care. There's a reason people keep ending up in his bed alright.

I want this man so badly it's insane.