#fucking back off to the other side of the world without giving him a chance to actually talk to you at all and resolve any of the emotions

[bimbowshmimbow]

part 2 neighbor!joel x reader

part one

mdni. 18+ only. minors, do not interact. neighbor!joel, age gap (reader is mid-20s, Joel is late 30s/early 40s), pining, tension you can taste, slow burn that turns fast, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it irl), possessive!joel, dirty talk, light praise, rough but tender sex, Joel being dangerously soft after wrecking you, feelings absolutely involved. you’re so down bad for Joel it’s almost tragic

His hand cradled your face, thumb stroking over your jaw as he coaxed your mouth open, deepening the kiss.

You felt dizzy, clinging to the soft cotton of his shirt, the hard wall of his chest under your palms grounding you.

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” Joel muttered against your lips, voice wrecked, like he hated himself for how badly he wanted you.

He kissed you again, harder this time — like he was trying to erase all the years he hadn’t had you, all the moments you’d brushed past each other and pretended not to feel it.

You gasped when his free hand found your hip, fingers curling into the thin material of your shorts.

The fabric strained as he gripped you, thumb stroking over the soft skin just beneath the hem.

“You come over here lookin’ like this,” he rasped, kissing a line down your jaw to the sensitive spot just under your ear, making you shiver. “In those tiny little shorts, all wide-eyed and sweet… thinkin’ I wouldn’t notice?”

Your only answer was a soft whimper, hips tilting toward him instinctively.

Joel chuckled — low and dark — before sliding his hand up under your t-shirt, dragging his calloused fingers over the bare skin of your waist, your ribs.

He groaned when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, voice strained. “Tryin’ to kill me.”

You whimpered again, nails digging into his shoulders.

Without warning, Joel lifted you — effortlessly — and set you down on the kitchen counter.

The cool granite bit into your thighs, but you barely noticed, too busy drinking in the way Joel’s eyes dragged over your body, hungry and possessive.

He tugged your shirt up slowly, giving you a chance to stop him. When you didn’t — when you raised your arms instead — he peeled it off and let it fall to the floor with a soft thud.

Joel just stood there for a second, breathing hard, hands flexing at his sides like he didn’t know where to touch first.

“Look at you,” he murmured, voice thick with something like awe. “Prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen.”

You reached for him, whining a little when he didn’t move fast enough, and that finally broke him.

Joel surged forward, kissing you like he wanted to climb inside your skin.

His big hands framed your thighs, spreading them wider so he could step between them, the hard line of his cock pressing against your core through the fabric of your shorts.

You rolled your hips instinctively, seeking friction, and Joel hissed through his teeth.

“Patience, baby,” he grunted, reaching between you to pop the button on your shorts. “Gotta take my time with you.”

He tugged them down your legs — slow, almost reverent — leaving you bare and wanting.

Joel dropped to his knees without a second thought, hooking your thighs over his broad shoulders.

“You ever been eaten out proper, sweetheart?” he rasped, hot breath fanning over your dripping center. “‘Cause I ain’t lettin’ you walk outta here without knowin’ what it feels like.”

Before you could answer — before you could even breathe — Joel licked a broad, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, making you cry out.

You clutched at his hair, hips bucking instinctively as he devoured you, tongue working you open with filthy, practiced precision.

He moaned against you, like the taste of you was his favorite thing in the goddamn world.

You were close embarrassingly fast, thighs trembling, your breath hitching in broken little gasps.

Joel pulled back just enough to look up at you, beard soaked, pupils blown wide.

“Come for me, darlin’,” he rasped, voice gravelly. “Wanna feel you fall apart.”

It only took a few more strokes of his tongue before you were coming, back arching off the counter, whimpering his name like a prayer.

Joel didn’t let up — kept licking you through it, drinking down every last drop until you were trembling.

When he finally stood, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his chest heaving.

“You’re a fuckin’ dream,” he muttered, pulling you into a messy, desperate kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You fumbled for his belt, clumsy and eager, and Joel let you — shoving his jeans down just enough to free himself.

You gasped at the sight of him — thick, heavy, already leaking at the tip.

Joel grunted when you wrapped your hand around him, stroking slowly, teasing him the way he had teased you.

“Enough,” he growled, voice rough. “Need to be inside you, baby. Now.”

He lined himself up, dragging the blunt head of his cock through your soaked folds, teasing your entrance.

“You ready, sweetheart?” he rasped, voice strained.

“Please, Joel,” you gasped. “Need you.”

He pushed in slow, letting you feel every inch as he stretched you open.

You clung to him, nails digging into his back, gasping at the delicious burn.

“Goddamn,” Joel grunted when he bottomed out, forehead pressing to yours. “Tightest little thing I ever felt.”

He gave you a second to adjust before pulling out almost all the way and slamming back in — hard enough to make you cry out.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped, setting a brutal rhythm. “Take me… just like that.”

Each thrust sent you higher and higher, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the kitchen.

Joel bent his head to suck a mark into your neck, groaning when you tightened around him.

“Gonna fill you up,” he muttered, voice broken. “Gonna stuff you so full of me, you won’t think about anyone else.”

“Only you,” you whimpered. “Always you.”

Joel groaned — a deep, wrecked sound — and fucked you even harder, chasing both of your releases.

You came first, shattering around him with a loud, keening cry.

Joel followed a few thrusts later, spilling deep inside you with a ragged moan of your name, hips jerking helplessly.

He stayed buried inside you for a moment, breathing hard, forehead still pressed to yours.

“You okay, baby?” he muttered after a minute, voice rough with tenderness.

You nodded, too blissed-out to speak, and Joel smiled — soft and sweet — before pulling you into a gentle kiss.

“Next time,” he whispered against your lips, “we do it in a bed.”

You laughed breathlessly, clinging to him.

“I’m holdin’ you to that,” you whispered back.

eeee I love them, please let me know what you think! ~bow

[vipers-current-obsession]

When Shen Qingqiu regained his body back from the imposter who had stolen it, his first action was to attack the Beast who had his grubby hands on him.

He didn't know exactly what had happened up to that point, but he did know that he had just had a qi deviation and that he should be waking up on his peak. Instead, he opened his eyes and he was falling off a fucking building. Before he could even think about saving himself, a man grabbed him tight and landed safely with him in his arms.

As soon as he got his bearings, he snapped out, "Put me down." Instead, he felt the arms holding him tighten, so naturally, he lashed out. With his qi still sluggish from the deviation, he didn't make much progress, but Yue Qingyuan and Liu Qingge soon came and the man let him down, if reluctantly. He marched right over to their sides, a little surprised that there was no attempt to grab him.

When he turned around to try to make sense of what the hell just happened, he was surprised to find that he recognized the man who had grabbed him. Luo Binghe. The beast. And yet wasn't he just a boy? The one in front of him was a man, and, he noted, a demon, made obvious from the zuiyin on his forehead.

A fan was drawn to cover his face (why doesn't he recognize it?) as he icily questions what was happening. The beast is crying as he explains that he didn't mean it and that he was sorry, Shizun and don't ever do that again, please.

Useless.

Well, at the very least he knows that he did something he can't remember (hopefully trying to kill that beast).

He bites out, "Can someone who's not incompetent tell me what's going on? What happened after my qi deviation?"

Liu Qingge gave him a strange look, presumably because he's an idiot who doesn't keep track of the goings on of the sect. Yue Qingyuan let out a little gasp and when they clarify which, exactly, qi deviation he was referring to, he starts to herd them, barring the beast, back to their carriages so he could explain everything in private.

At the blatant dismissal of the beast, his tightened fist obviously draws blood, but he storms off instead of lashing out, his face a storm of negative emotions.

As they rode back to the sect, Yue Qingyuan explained what had happened. Apparently, his qi deviation was 6 years (6! Years!) ago. After the deviation, he had awoken with much less memories than before, but he also seemed to have a change of heart. Here Yue Qingyuan hesitated, long enough for the brute to interrupt.

"You were actually likable." he said, with all the grace of a boar. A thousand insults rested on the tip of Shen Qingqiu's tongue in response, but Yue Qingyuan quickly intervened, shooing Liu Qingge out of earshot.

"The deviation did change you quite a lot, which we found suspicious, but none of our tests came back positive for possession. As far as we could tell, the amnesiac was you"

Within his heart, he knew that there was no chance of him being a likable person. He'd rather cut his own tongue off than to insincerely compliment and fawn over others. There wasn't a kind bone in his body. Which, Yue Qingyuan should have known.

As much as he loathed him now, they grew up together. They were thick as thieves back then, even if Yue Qingyuan had eventually abandoned him for greener pastures, he had laughed when Shen Qingqiu picked up a rock to bash another kid's brains in. He had watched him lie, cheat, and steal for just one more coin. He was the one Shen Qingqiu confided in when the anger he felt towards the world was too much. He was the one who witnessed him as his youngest and most naive self, and even then Shen Qingqiu spat at the world without an ounce of kindness.

Anyone else, he could scoff and bite back at for believing he could be kind because he knew they were stupid enough to not know better, but Yue Qingyuan?

"Did that imposter give you everything you wanted?" he asked, deceptively calm.

A wide eyed stare greeted him as Yue Qingyuan froze, as he seemed to always do in the face of questioning. "What?"

He scoffed, "Clearly I was there alongside the imposter, had you tried literally anything I would have been able to regain my body. Instead, you were, what? Content to play house with a stranger as long as he wore my face? A kind and likable me? What a farce. You knew that wasn't me and you did nothing to free me."

In the silence that remained, all he wanted was an explanation. For Yue Qingyuan to say that he tried and failed. For him to say literally anything other than the words that he knew was coming, because when did he ever say anything else?

Yue Qingyuan averted his eyes, like always, and said, "I'm sorry." Like. Always.

Because all that man knew how to do was abandon others in their time of need and then apologize, as if that made anything better.

Whatever, it's not like being abandoned by him was anything new.

[camgoloud]

he still has his tonsils. by the way if you even care

[buckyalpine]

A thot. A smutty, slutty, scandalous thot. With Bodyguard Bucky. Possessiveness, size kink, breeding kink, all of it. Now, imagine being the sweet, quiet, beautiful wife of the esteemed John Walker, CEO of Walker Industries. You sit at his table, clapping with the proudest smile on your face as he accepts an award for another successful year. Your husband dedicates all his success to the beautiful woman who has supported him through all the ups and downs, who has been by his side through it all.

You.

You blow a shy kiss in his direction when the cameras pan over to you, giggling at the wink he throws back. The press will have a field day about the most envied couple in the world, so perfect and so in love. As the night nears its end, your husband gives your hand a squeeze from where he sits beside you, leaning over to whisper in your ear.

"Going to have to stop by office darling, one our major investors just called" He kisses your cheek affectionately with an apologetic look on his face but the understanding smile you give him back lets him know you're not the least bit upset.

"Of course, I'll miss you" You reply and take a sip from your champagne, appearing oblivious to the glances that are thrown your way by the others as your husband leaves without you, his secretary following closely behind him.

All the hushed whispers.

Poor woman has no idea.

All the secrets.

Just a pretty thing on his arm, probably doesn't have a clue.

Doesn't have a clue her husband has been carrying on with his secretary late into the nights and all through out his business trips.

Such a shame she's none the wiser. Has no one thought to tell her? Pity she's genuinely so in love with him.

Truly such a shame, wasn't it?

Such a shame your husband had no idea your bodyguard fucked your brains out till he busted balls deep in side you every chance he got.

Bucky doesn't say a word as he leads you out of the venue, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist, helping you into the car. As soon as he slipped in beside you, you rolled up the dark partition before slinking onto his lap and slamming your lips against his. Bucky groaned against your lips, his hands finding their way home to grope and spank your ass, guiding your hips to grind down on his erection straining against his black pants.

"Need me to take care of you, huh princess" He murmured against the shell of your ear before going back to lacing his tongue with yours causing a shiver to run down your spine, nipping his pouty lip and grasping onto the lapels of his blazer.

No time was wasted as you straightened yourself out upon entering your home, quickly dismissing the staff to leave for the night, giving you free reign to do as you pleased.

As soon as the house was empty, he tossed you over his shoulder, striding up the stairs and straight to the master bedroom. He dropped you onto your large bed, tearing your dress in half down the middle, letting the material fall away at your feet.

"Fuck this" He grabbed your left hand, tugging off the wedding band you wore for appearances and tossing it carelessly across the room. He took off the silver tog tags that hung around his neck, slipping them over your head and letting his name sit perfectly between your breasts, the sight making him feral.

"Didn't even bother with panties" Bucky licked his lips at the sight of your bare naked body, not even a tiny sliver of lace covering your modesty. "You knew, didn't you"

"Always" You purred, knowing damn well your husband would fuck off to bang his desperate little secretary, unknowingly also giving you the night of your life you so badly craved. You crawled to the middle of the bed, your legs spread while Bucky tossed his blazer and shirt off, his pants and brief's quick to follow.

"Lookit you baby, so naughty, fuckin' your bodyguard in the same bed your husband sleeps in"

You let out a needy whimper while he stayed at the edge of the bed enjoying the view, his hand coming down to wrap around his cock giving himself long, languid strokes.

"James, please" you pleaded with a pout but Bucky just smirked in return, hissing as he swiped his thumb over the wet slit of his cockhead.

"I know prinţesă, I know, let me look at how pretty you are" He cooed, joining you on the bed and slotting himself between your legs. You wrapped your arms around his thick shoulders while he let his cock slip between your folds, rolling his hips to hump against your bare cunt. "You're soaked angel, been waiting for this, hm?"

"Wanted you so bad, need you James" Your hips bucked up, chasing the feeling of his fat cock rubbing against you, his swollen cockhead bumping your clit every time he pushed forward. "No teasing, please, missed your cock so bad"

"Shhh, you have me baby, m'right here, yeah?" Bucky kissed away the tears that started to slip down your cheeks, your arousal smearing all over his balls. He guided his dripping cockhead to press against your clit making you cry out, circling his most sensitive parts against yours, "M'right here, feel that angel? Y'feel how wet m'getting for you baby, right on that pretty clit, such a good girl letting me jus' leak all over her slutty little pussy, fuck theres so much precum 'nd m'not even inside you yet"

You'd never felt more empty, clawing at Bucky's back, your pussy fluttering and clenching over the way his silky tip kept tracing circles around your throbbing, sensitive bud. He flicked his cockhead across your clit a few times before lining himself up with your entrance.

"S'fuckin' tight, sh-shit" Bucky moaned as he started to press into you, sliding all the way home in one swift motion. He stayed still, holding your body close to his while your legs wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, begging for him to do something.

"Move Jamie, please, c'mon, fuck me damn it, I need you, I need- FUCCKK" Your words slurred into sobs as Bucky started to fuck you hard and fast, already too needy with having to get a night alone with you.

"Needed me huh angel? fuckin' needed you too, s'all I think about pretty girl, just me n' you, how-oh fuck- how are you so tight around my cock" Bucky rambled, bringing his knee up to get a deeper angle, his hands coming to lace with yours, pinning you against the mattress.

"Missed-fuck-missed you Jamie" You whimpered, your pussy squeezing and sucking his cock back in,

"My baby loves her fat cock, I know, know you're so empty when I can't fill you up sweet girl, you love your bodyguard's big dick don't you" The taunt in his voice only got you off more, your eyes rolling back as he continued to rail you. "You're pussy's choking me so tight, don't think I can hold back tonight princess, don't think I'll be able to pull out"

"Don't" you whispered and something in the air switched, the highly charged sexual tension replaced with something more desperate and needy as you clung onto each other reading closer and closer to your highs.

"Mmph, y'can't say that, gonna wet your bed with my cum prinţesă, you'd like that wouldn't you, my cum covering all your sheets, your pillows smelling like me, letting me fill you up till your belly gets all swollen"

Bucky's voice melted into a whine, his dominance faltering into something needier, quickly shoving the thought away because he knew there was no chance. It would never happen. You'd never be so careless for such an accident to happen.

"Want it Jamie, want it all with you, please, don't-fuck, oh God-don't pull out" Your glassy eyes wet with tears showed no signs of deception but it couldn't be. He searched your gaze and you could see the innocence in his face wishing this were real, the way his body moved with yours, wishing it was just you and him. "St-stopped taking birth control"

Bucky sobbed at your confession, fucking you harder, making the headboard slam against the wall with his powerful thrusts. His hips snapped , shoving his cock all the way into your pussy, his balls growing heavier at the thought of leaving a piece of him inside of your fertile womb.

"you're fuckin' mine, you hear me? Mine. Mine. Mine. Say it!" Bucky grunted, biting your neck making you scream, your back arching off the bed, pressing your chest further against his.

"M'yours, all yours, just' yours" You slurred out, eyes rolling back and your moans turning nearly silent as immense pleasure crept down your spine.

"Gonna put my baby in you, make you mine forever, fuck your husband, your gonna be the mother of my child, just you prinţesă, all you, ALL YOU" Bucky roared against your neck as he shot ropes of his cum deep in your pussy, giving you harsh, sloppy thrusts as he grew more sensitive. He wrapped his arms around your body with his face tucked into your neck, shuddering at the feeling of your soft hands caressing his back, running your fingers through his soft cropped locks.

You hardly noticed him carrying you over to his room down the hall, tucking you into the warm sheets, resting your head on his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I love you" You murmured, smiling at the empty space on your ring finger and feeling the comforting coolness of his chain around your neck.

One day.

"I love you more, prinţesă" Bucky murmured, meaning every word as you both drifted off to sleep.

You couldn't wait to leave your husband.

a/n: This was meant to be way sluttier and less in the feels so might need to revisit this with a different version

[cece693]

You're Just Jealous of Me

pairing: the salvatore brothers x male reader tags: reader knows he's manipulative and a slut, you just don't care tbh, Elena has an aneurysm from not being the main character, the brothers know they're getting played, you're just that hot/beautiful/perfect for them to give you up, Elena bashing, no incest

"I can't believe you." Elena exclaimed, her eyes growing misty as you were getting ready to head out with Damon on a date. It hadn't even been a week since they broke up (something about her needing stability or some other bullshit) and you didn't care. All that mattered was getting through yet another 'poor me' moment without killing her and making it seem like an accident.

Seriously, what did your sister expect? That Damon was going to stay single for the rest of his days until she made a fucking choice between him and Stefan? Perhaps some of her betrayal stemmed from the fact that Stefan had also rejected her ass and had made it clear he didn't feel anything for her anymore. So now poor Elena had no one while you played with both brothers.

And it wasn't even 'playing' per se if they knew about the whole situation. You could fuck any of them, and they'll be fine with it—a thing you made clear to them when this whole thing started. You liked both brothers, but having to choose just one was unfair—they both had traits that attracted you, and if you couldn't have both, then you'll settle for nothing. Like eager children they agreed. The arrangement was abnormal to others, but for you it worked—you dated both brothers, they still hated each other (entertaining fights arising from their competitiveness on who you liked more, who was 'rocking' your world, etc.) Simple really.

"Save the tears for the pillow, sister. I’m really not in the mood—nor will I ever be—to entertain your pity parties." Pulling on one of Damon’s leather jackets, you smirked. You were a sight to behold—not only would Damon be eager to rip the clothes off you, but half the population would, too.

It was fun stirring the pot, watching Damon bare his teeth at anyone who thought they stood a chance. Jealousy was his kryptonite, and while a part of you hated targeting one of his insecurities, you always reassured him in bed of your devotion, loyalty, and love.

Yes, because at the end of the day, you loved both Salvatore brothers. This wasn't just some passing fantasy, nor was it some revenge scheme against your sister (though you did love tormenting her with the fact that you were dating the two). You were willing to throw away your human life to become a vampire—to spend eternity by their side.

"Why are you doing this to me? What have I ever done to cause this!" Now there was the Elena you knew all too well—the one who constantly placed themselves as the victim, putting blame unto you because who could ever hate a girl who lost her parents?

You let out a humorless laugh, crossing your arms over your chest. “You really want to go there?” you snap, not bothering to hide the derision in your voice. “Fine. For starters, you’ve always made Jeremy and me feel like shit, and the few times you did act like a decent human being were just so you didn’t look like a total bitch.”

“That’s not true!” she protests, anger tightening her features.

“It is, Elena,” you spit back. “When our parents died, you didn’t do a damn thing to help us cope. You were so wrapped up in your own grief, your own fucking melodrama, that you never once checked on Jeremy or me—unless, of course, it was to nag us about how we were coping. When Jeremy started doing drugs, you freaked the fuck out. Not because you cared, but because you were afraid of how it might make you look. God forbid anyone sees that the 'perfect' Elena Gilbert can’t keep her family together or help her brother kick his drug habit.”

She flinches, but you weren't done. Oh, no. You were just beginning to go down the list of why you hated her ass. "Then, when I began to hook up with Damon, you acted like I was the cause of our parents death—no, that's on you because Elena couldn't help herself and got drunk, needing a ride home at midnight. Sleeping with Damon was like I'd personally betray you."

Her cheeks flush crimson. “Well, you did! You—”

“I did what, Elena?” You take a step forward, towering over her. “I moved on? Found something that might actually make me happy? Meanwhile, you’ve been stringing both Damon and Stefan along for God knows how long. You made your choice—you dumped Damon, tried getting back with Stefan, when he told you to fuck off, you tried going back to Damon and he said the same thing. So now you’re standing here, arms crossed, lip trembling, trying to put the blame on me because you lost your backup plan.”

Her lips press into a thin line, eyes brimming with tears. But you’ve seen this act before—she’ll blink prettily, glance away like a wounded animal, and wait for you to console her. Only this time, you won't.

“You are an asshole,” she hisses, eyes narrowed into slits. “He was mine first.”

That makes you laugh, a harsh sound echoing off the hallway walls. “Right...possessive much? People aren’t property, Elena. He’s not a damn handbag you lend out when it suits you. If Damon wants to be with me, that’s his call. And if I want to keep him, that’s mine.”

She trembles, either from anger or heartbreak—you can’t tell, and frankly, you don’t care. “Why would you do this?” she asks again, her voice cracking. “What have I ever done—”

You rolled your eyes so hard you got a slight headache. "Did you even listen to me? I have every reason to hate you, so does Jeremy and the rest of Mystic Falls. Those who continue to stand by you are either stupid or hope they'll get some attention from your desperate ass. I'm done. I’m done letting you guilt-trip me. I’m done tiptoeing around your precious feelings. I’m fucking over it, Elena.”

Just then, Damon appears in the doorway, that trademark smirk on his face. “Ready?” he asks, taking in the tension between you two. His gaze flicks to the tears glistening in her eyes before returning to you. “I’m guessing we’re skipping the family therapy session?”

“Therapy? More like the mandatory guilt trip, which I’ve politely declined.”

Elena’s voice wavers, “Damon, how can you just—”

He cuts her off with a raised hand, posture casual but his eyes dangerously dark. “Stop, Elena. What we had is over. You made that choice before, remember? I’m done letting you waltz in and out of my life whenever it’s convenient for you.” You can practically feel the hatred radiating off her in waves. She’s not used to being shut down, especially not by Damon, the semi-reformed bad boy who once hung on her every word. It must sting. Oh, well. Her loss.

“As much as I loved talking to you, sister, I do believe we're running late. Don't wait up and please, if you're going to continue crying, leave my room. Keep wallowing if you want. Hell, cry yourself a fucking river. Just don’t stain my carpet.” Without another glance at Elena, you brush past Damon, and he steps aside for you to lead. He follows, closing the door behind you both, leaving your sister alone in her silence.

You descend the porch steps and greet the night air with a sigh of relief, reveling in the silence that isn’t tainted by Elena’s incessant whining. Damon slips an arm around your shoulders, guiding you toward his car parked beneath a streetlamp. His touch is warm, confident—like he’s proud of the chaos you’ve left behind.

“She’ll get over it,” he says, glancing at you with one of those trademark smirks that used to make Elena weak at the knees. Now, it just fuels your own sense of dark satisfaction.

“She’d better,” you mutter. “I’m not putting up with her drama anymore. If she wants to play the victim, she can do it alone. I’ve got better things to do.”

Damon’s grin widens. “That’s the spirit. So, where are we headed, anyway? We never actually nailed down the specifics.”

You shrug, placing an arm around his waist and snuggling closer to his side. “Anywhere but here. Got a craving for something stiff—drink or otherwise.” The innuendo doesn’t slip past him. His eyes flash with interest, and you can’t deny that thrill you get from watching Damon Salvatore light up over you instead of your sister.

“Sounds like the Grill for starters,” he suggests with a casual tilt of his head. “They might have a halfway decent bourbon I can drown myself in. As for the ‘otherwise,’ well…” He lets the sentence hang, the possibility of later events sparking arousal for the both of you.

You’re about to respond when you spot Stefan leaning against Damon's Camaro. Typical. Even without super-hearing, you know he’s probably caught every word you exchanged with Elena. Damned vampires. "What are you doing here?" Damon was the first who spoke, hand tightening over your body. As if he was a child preventing his favorite toy to be taken away from him.

"Nothing, really. I was just walking around the neighborhood and saw your car parked. But now that I see you're here with my boyfriend, I guess I have time to join you two at the grill."

"Our boyfriend."

You simply laugh at Stefan’s innocent tone, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. Just a few minutes ago, you were telling off Elena and storming out of the house. Now you’re pinned between two vampires—both of whom are technically yours, and you are theirs. Welcome to the wonderful, fucked-up world of Mystic Falls.

“‘Our’ boyfriend,” you echo, looking from Stefan to Damon. “Are you two seriously going to argue semantics right now? Pick a damn fight over who saw me first?” A scoff escapes you as you shrug off Damon’s possessive grip just enough to stand on your own. You’re not some chew toy they get to tug-of-war over.

Stefan cocks a brow, his expression cool but laced with a hint of smugness. “I’m not here to fight,” he says, his gaze flicking to Damon. “Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t excluded. Last time I checked, this was a joint arrangement.”

Damon’s jaw clenches. Clearly, he remembers crashing your date with Stefan last week—and how you’d had to smooth over the tension in ways that involved very little clothing and a lot of apologizing on his part. “We’re not excluding you, Saint Stefan. But we do have plans that don’t involve your pensive brooding.”

Stefan straightens, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, so your plan is to get drunk at the Grill and then…whatever else…” He waves a hand dismissively, “doesn’t appeal to me?” He tilts his head in mock curiosity. “You sure about that?”

You snort. “Children, please. If you both really wanted to rip each other’s heads off, you’d have done it ages ago. Let’s just go. All this talk is making my head hurt.”

Damon lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes. “Fine. But if Stefan starts preaching about morality or—God forbid—Elena, I’m leaving him to pay the tab.”

Stefan’s smirk grows. “I’d pick a better conversation starter than Elena, trust me.”

You give an unimpressed half-smile. “Don’t even mention her name. As far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t exist unless she’s blocking my path to a stiff drink.”

That shuts both of them up. They exchange a quick glance—some silent vampire communication or whatever—then Damon jerks his head toward the passenger door. “Shotgun’s yours,” he says to you, ever the gentleman when it comes to seating. To Stefan, he adds begrudgingly, “Guess you can squeeze into the back...or the trunk.”

Stefan’s lip twitches like he’s fighting off a retort, but he says nothing. Instead, he silently moves to the rear door. You can’t help but grin. It’s absurd that they both share you yet still bicker like five-year-olds over the smallest shit. But hey, maybe that’s part of the charm.

Once inside Damon’s Camaro, you sink into the leather seat, adjusting your legs as you feel Stefan’s presence behind you. The tension is thick—crackling with desire, frustration, and that constant competition. You kind of love it. Damon revs the engine, and the car peels away from the curb.

“Any chance we can make this a quick pit stop at the Grill?” you say, your gaze shifting between them. “I need something to eat, maybe a drink or two, but I’m not really in the mood to fraternize with the entire damn town.”

Damon flicks you a sidelong glance. “Someone’s impatient. Looking to skip straight to dessert, sweetheart?”

A grin tugs at your lips. “I’d just rather not get cornered by whichever idiot wants the latest gossip on Elena’s meltdown.”

Stefan leans forward, resting his forearms on the front seats. “We can be in and out in under thirty minutes. Grab some wings, maybe a bourbon—or three—and leave.” He lowers his voice suggestively. “After that, I wouldn’t mind some privacy.”

Damon makes a sound of reluctant agreement. “Deal. But don’t whine when you realize your tolerance is way lower than mine, Brother.”

Stefan just smirks. “Don’t worry about me, Damon. Worry about yourself.”

The quick banter settles into a charged silence as the lights of Mystic Falls blur by. The neon sign of the Grill soon comes into view, and Damon maneuvers into a parking spot with practiced ease.

“Let’s get this over with,” you mutter, pushing the car door open. “I’m not about to waste my entire night entertaining half-drunk townspeople.”

Stepping onto the sidewalk, you can already see a few familiar faces through the window—Caroline, Matt, maybe Tyler. You can’t be bothered to care. The only drama you want tonight is the kind that ends in moans, not tears. And if Elena hasn’t slithered over here yet, you might just get your way.

Damon slides an arm around your waist possessively again, and Stefan eyes the gesture with an annoyance that’s as old as time. You sigh inwardly. No matter how many times you remind them you belong to both, they still can’t help but try to stake their separate claims. Vampire pride, maybe.

As you head inside, the ambient chatter and smell of bar food envelop you. A few heads turn—this is Mystic Falls, after all, and you’re making a very public entrance with both Salvatores. Let them stare. Let them talk.

“Your usual table?” Damon asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you say. “Let’s just grab a seat and order. I’m fucking starving.”

The three of you slip into a booth. Damon slides in beside you, Stefan on the opposite side. A cute server looks mildly flustered as she hands out menus. You can see her eyes flick between Damon and Stefan, likely recalling the messy history each has with Elena. If she notices you’re with them in a more intimate sense, she doesn’t comment. Probably for the best.

“So,” Damon says, flipping open the menu, “bourbon and wings? Or do we want to start with something stronger?”

Stefan doesn’t bother with the menu. “I’ll have what you’re having,” he says with a forced casualness, drumming his fingers on the table. He’s clearly aware eyes are on you three. You can practically feel the tension rolling off him—like he’s waiting for the next potential disaster.

You roll your eyes at the both of them. “Bourbon’s fine. Then if someone pisses me off, we can move on to whiskey shots until I forget this entire night.”

Damon flashes that trademark smirk. “You, pissed off? Shocking.”

Stefan snorts, finally cracking a faint smile. “I’m sure we’ll manage to avoid any drama.”

A short, barking laugh leaves you. “In this town? With the three of us in the same damn booth? Doubtful.”

But you push aside the building dread. Because at least you’re here on your terms, Elena’s sob story is miles away, and you have both Salvatores at your side—bickering, sure, but ultimately yours. And that realization, twisted as it might be, makes a satisfied grin curl your lips. With a raised brow, you signal the server for your order. Let the vultures talk, let Elena sulk. You’ve got bigger, better things to do tonight—and two vampires to do them with.

“Bring on the bourbon,” you say, leaning back. “I’ve got all fucking night.”

[moonstruckme]

Thawing Out

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16

cw: modern au, chronic pain, mention of Sirus' family but no talk of abuse, some talk of traumatic injury

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Sirius hates the cold. It makes him look ill, his nose always runs, and he does not have a head made for hats. 

The walk to the rink yesterday was bad, with the chill and the early hour and the dark mood that seemed to permeate him like it infused his very blood, but you made it better by being yourself. He suspects you might have even been going out of your way to be sweeter than usual, given that you knew it was the anniversary of the day Sirius ran away from his family’s home. You’d tried to cheer him up. Still, yesterday was bad.

Today is worse. 

You’re silent as you stalk down the sidewalk, one boy on either side of you. You said hello to both him and Remus as you stepped out the door of your apartment, and then that was it. If it were Sirius it might make sense, but you always have an unnatural amount of energy in the mornings. Obviously you’re not speaking to him. And Sirius is still upset about the addition of the death spiral to your routine, so he’s not speaking to Remus. And Remus is hardly one to spark up conversation during an uncomfortable silence, so that just makes the three of you a very sullen, very silent procession to your early fucking morning practice. 

Except when you arrive, the rink is already bustling. You take one step inside before going back out the door, forcing both boys back outside with you.

“What the fuck?” Remus tries to peer inside. For once, Sirius agrees with him. “Who’s taken our slot?”

“I don’t know,” you say, but you’re still standing in front of the door like you’re barring their entry. “I’m going to go find out. You guys stay here.” 

“Why?” Sirius asks.

Even when you look at him you’re not really looking at him, your eyes distant. If you’re trying to make him feel like shit, it’s working. “Because I don’t need either of you going in there to bite someone’s head off. I’ve got it.” 

With that, you slip inside, not giving either of them a chance to argue. Sirius supposes he could go after you anyway, but you seem like you’d bite his head off, and he’s hurting enough from the cold without that extra ailment to contend with. He pulls out a cigarette instead. 

“You really shouldn’t do that,” Remus hums, but when Sirius looks over the other boy is lighting up too, a cig dangling from the corner of his mouth. When he sees Sirius struggling with his lighter, his fingers frozen and clumsy, he rolls his eyes and steps closer. 

Sirius goes still as Remus cups a hand around his cigarette, lithe fingers an inch from his mouth. The lighter rasps once, and the warmth next to Sirius’ face is a welcome sensation. When Remus steps away Sirius straightens his shoulders, expression carefully impassive as he inhales. He doesn’t thank him. 

“She’ll have your ass for doing it, too,” he says. 

Remus lifts a brow, blowing smoke out one corner of his mouth. “Why? I don’t need my lungs for anything.” 

Sirius shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. She thinks she should be in charge of the whole world.” 

A soft chuckle. Remus looks out to where the sun will rise in a few hours, the sky still a sweet blue. “Maybe she should be.” 

Sirius can’t help a little smile at that. He takes comfort only in knowing Remus doesn’t see. “Don’t let her hear you say that.” 

They lapse into a brief silence, easier and more contented than Sirius would have thought possible between the two of them. It breaks only when you come bustling back out the doors. 

“Okay, so apparently—” You stop, looking between them both. “Guys. Seriously?” 

“What?” Remus asks, but Sirius knows better, dropping his cigarette and stamping it out. 

Your gaze flicks over him, almost approving but still a far cry from friendly. He swears your mouth wants to smile at him, only you’re not letting it. 

“Those are so bad for you,” you tell Remus. 

He levels you with a dry look, the brave bastard. “What does it matter? I’m not an athlete.” 

You wince but don’t back down. “Athletes aren’t the only ones with reason to live past fifty.” You give him a hard look. It takes a while, but eventually Remus relents, dropping his cigarette as Sirius had. You nod, crouching to pick up both dog-ends and taking them to a bin. “Each one shortens your life by eleven minutes, you know.” 

Remus meets Sirius’ eyes, incredulous. “She comes prepared with statistics?” he asks in a hushed voice. 

Sirius nods. “Told you so.” 

You brush your hands off on your pants. “Okay. Anyway, hockey practice got moved up.” 

“You’re joking,” says Remus. 

“Nope. And, someone else got wind of it before us, because the slot they had at nine has already been filled. We can’t practice today.” 

Sirius shakes his head. “Bullshit. Why did hockey get moved?” 

You shrug, hugging your middle so your hands can burrow under your arms for warmth. “Management said they didn’t know, only that someone on the team asked for a different slot just for today. Seems like they were sweet-talked into it.” 

Your eyes meet Sirius’ for half a second, and he takes out his phone, frigid thumbs anger-typing away. 

“So that’s it then?” Remus asks. He looks like he’d really like his cigarette back. “We’ve just woken up before dawn and we’re not going to practice?” 

You sigh. “Seems that way. We can come back during open skate, but you know how that is.” 

Sirius scowls, and Remus’ expression twinges with distaste. “Yeah,” says Remus, “let’s wait until tomorrow.” 

You all break where you usually do, though hours ahead of schedule, Remus going off towards his place and Sirius walking you in the direction of yours. 

“Fancy a coffee?” he asks you, voice intentionally light. 

It has the expected effect. You bristle at his easy tone, keeping your eyes ahead. “No, thanks.” 

“Fair enough.” Sirius would really like something to warm his hands, but he suspects he needs to pick his battles with you today. “Fancy telling me when we’re going to be friends again?” 

You blow out a harsh breath. It crystalizes in front of you, and you walk right through. “Don’t be daft. We’re always friends. It’s because I’m your friend that I’m so pissed off with you.” 

He nods slowly. “I don’t follow.” 

You shake your head, anger quickening your pace so that Sirius is nearly jogging to keep up with you. “Why can’t you ever stay out of your own way?” you ask him. “I know yesterday was hard for you, but you can’t be an asshole to everyone just because you’re having a bad day.” 

“Hey now, that’s not fair.” Sirius knows joking probably isn’t the best tactic with you right now, but he can’t help himself. “I wasn’t an asshole to you, was I?” 

“That’s what I mean!” You stop so hard he nearly plows into you, but you don’t so much as flinch at the possibility. Your stare is fierce. “You can’t keep trying to scare him off. It’s not going to work, and we need him. Can’t you see how much better he’s made us already? I know you didn’t want a coach, but Remus is good for us. So you can stop being so difficult.” 

“I am not being difficult,” says Sirius, though he often is. You stick your tongue in your cheek, annoyed, and he fights the urge to take your face in his hands. He hates having you cross with him, but at least you’re talking. “And you don’t know what we would be like if he weren’t here. We might’ve been fine.” 

You sigh, looking suddenly tired. And so, so disappointed. “That’s not the point anyways. You know what you said to him yesterday was wrong.” 

Sirius feels a dull stab in his gut. He knows. He does. He knew it the second it came flying out of his mouth, and he has no idea why Remus doesn’t seem as livid with him as you are. Remus, with his even voice and his exasperated, knowing looks and that stern little wrinkle between his brows, who seems able to wind Sirius up better than anyone else. A match to his short fuse. 

“How would you feel?” you ask. Some of the anger has fallen away from your voice, leaving it soft and sad. “What if we went to competition in a few weeks, and you injured yourself so that you knew you could never skate again. And then someone used it to mock you.” 

“He’s risking us doing that,” Sirius says, stubbornly, though he can hear the plea in his own voice, “by asking us to change the routine.” 

“He’s trying to help us,” you reply firmly. But your shoulders droop, and you sigh. “I know you feel bad about it. I’m done being mad at you now. It’s exhausting.” 

Sirius feels too hollowed out to revel much in the victory, but your arm linking through his does help some. “Some could say that was my plan all along,” he jokes weakly. 

You make a halfhearted attempt at a chuckle. “Good thing I know better. If your hands are in danger of falling off, you could stop at mine, make yourself a coffee.” 

“When I asked you for coffee five minutes ago you said no.” 

“Yeah, I wasn’t done punishing you yet.” 

[darlingdaisyfarm]

haii! i hope that you're feeling the bestest today :D cause that's how i feel when i read ur fics ! your style really resonates with me bc you articulate my feelings about stan & ford like no other writer can. plus your dedication to building up scenes and ending them with a great payoff :}

speaking of, how do you think the grunks would give their partner hickies? or receiving them? >.< i'd die to read a fic or drabble of your take on it, but you dont have to make it, ofc! enjoy the rest of your dayyyy ❤️‍🩹

⋆.˚ how Stan & Ford give (and react to) hickeys .ᐟ

a/n: HII and OMG thank you so much!!! anon, you are a gift to this world, that's so sweet from ur side <333 you have blessed me today especially the fact that you like my writing style ahgghhgg :'))) i hope it's ok that i made some parts nsfw here tho especially with Ford sorry i just really loved that idea and i wanted to write smth intimate with kisses & marking for a while

tags: nsfw (for Ford's part), suggestive, lots of kissing, hickeys

STANLEY / YOU RECEIVING

Stan’s logic is simple. you can’t just walk away without leaving a mark on someone you care about. otherwise, who’s even gonna know that this person belongs to you?

he’s always been a greedy man. greedy for money, for booze, for a good card game. but lately, he’s started realizing that none of that compares to the greed he feels for you

it’s the same every evening now, because every day, Stan and you spend time together. and every day, Stan hates one thing. dropping you off at home. you’re already about to leave his car, stretching sleepily in the passenger seat, yawning loudly and mumbling about how tired you are.

car radio crackles softly with the evening news, but that doesn’t matter anymore. at least, not to Stan.

“c'mon, don't just leave like that, baby.” in the quiet summer air, his rough voice sounds especially low. you smirk, but you don’t even get the chance to say anything before his heavy hand lands on your thigh. “come on, sugar, just one little kiss.”

his breath brushes your cheek, and that’s all it takes for you to give in. your lips meet in a soft touch, but only for a second. because Stanley Pines doesn’t kiss soft or gentle.

he leans in deeper, firmer, catches your breath and pulls you in greedily. his dry lips are insistent, rough, but hot, warm, too impatient. his tongue slides past your lips, finds yours, demands more, demands you meet him with the same hunger. you sink into the kiss like into warm bathwater, the one you’d planned to take after this long day, you drown in this man who holds you like he's never letting go.

suddenly, he grabs you and before you know it, you’re on his lap, wrapping legs wrap around him. Stan grins, keeping you exactly where he loves you best. right in his hands. the car seat creaks under your weight, but neither of you care.

“you taste so good, fuck, i don’t wanna let you go.” his tongue teases yours again, and you can’t help the whimper that escapes you. his hands are fully on your body now, squeezing, pulling you tighter against him. “sweetheart, don’t go home. stay with me.”

oh, here we go again, you think. you love when he starts begging you to stay.

you smile into the kiss, biting his bottom lip gently, making him groan, and Stan grips your thighs tighter in response.

“i don’t wanna let you go.”

you try to pull back, placing your hands against his chest, but he only grips you harder, pressing you down against him until you nearly gasp. “Stan—“

“no, listen,” he bites your lip but doesn’t pull away as he speaks right against your mouth, slipping into a whisper. “stay with me. move in with me, baby.”

“but i’ll be back soon, Stan.”

“not soon enough.” he catches your lips again, but this time, it’s deeper and desperate. it’s hard to breathe and your head spins, but you don’t want him to stop, because fuck, nobody kisses like Stan does. his lips trail downward, leaving hot kisses against your neck, tongue sliding slowly over that one sensitive spot, and you feel your tired body melt.

“you could stay, you know?”

you smile again but don’t say anything.

and Stan can’t stand the silence so he bites your neck, kisses over the mark his teeth leave behind, then finds your lips again.

“tell me you’ll stay with me, baby,”

you stroke his cheek, tracing your thumb over his lower lip, then pull him in again.

“i will. someday. probably.”

Stan growls and kisses you senseless again until your head spins, until it really feels like you’ll stay with him forever.

he doesn’t want to be alone.

he doesn’t want to end up in an empty shack again, where the walls still echo your laughter and the pillow still holds the warmth of your body.

he doesn’t want to fall asleep by himself, knowing you’re not there.

he doesn’t want to smoke at night alone without you by his side.

he wants you.

every night. every day. Stan wants you beside him, wants you waking up in his bed, wants to watch you before he falls asleep, wants to kiss you every morning without letting you leave his arms.

his teeth sink into your skin as he sucks your flesh between his lips until you’re gripping his shoulders. the hot, wet sensation leaves you gasping and breathless until he finally pulls back to admire his work.

a dark mark blooms on your skin, his mark. Stan smirks, running his fingers over the bruise, then looks at you all proud of himself.

“now everyone will know ya belong to me.”

you chuckle.

“dummy, they already know.”

he laughs, kissing you again. and if he didn’t have to let you go, he never would

YOU GIVING:

Stan stands slouched, as always. leaning against the counter, one hand gripping a can of soda, the other pressing his phone to his ear, muttering something, clearly irritated and not particularly attentive. you hear him sigh, stretching out his words with lazy annoyance.

“whaddya mean a whole damn bus?”

oh, looks like your lovely grumpy man isn’t in the mood today. normally, a whole bus packed with walking wallets would make his whole day.

Stan rolls his eyes, taking a long swig of his soda, obviously trying not to lose it because of a dumb person talking to him. youre beside him, leaning against his shoulder, tracing your fingers over his arm, but he just presses his lips together a little tighter.

his attention isn’t on you.

unacceptable.

at first, you just brush your lips against his cheek. a light kiss that’s barely even there. Stan doesn’t even flinch, just waves you off slightly with his hand, signaling you to quit distracting him.

you hum

fine then

you kiss him again, this time closer to his ear

“mhm?”

Stan doesn’t even turn.

he thinks he can ignore you. how cute. guess it’s time to step up your game.

you lean in a little more, trailing your lips toward his neck, first just barely ghosting over his skin, inhaling the sharp scent of his favourite cigars.

and then you latch onto his neck. deep. maybe too deep.

“the hell?”

he nearly chokes on his soda. no, seriously. he full-on sputters, gasps sharply, coughs, and you hear his caller immediately start asking

“mr. Pines? hello? you alright, sir?”

no. he is not alright. he is losing his goddamn mind.

“shit, hold on.”

he tries to say something, but you don’t let him, sucking harder, teasing him just a little with your tongue, and you feel his whole body tenses.

“sweetheart, baby, c’mon,”

Stan exhales roughly, but he doesn’t pull away. in fact, his fingers suddenly tangle in your hair, gripping the back of your head, forcing you even closer.

“mr. Pines? are you still there?”

Stan instantly hangs up. fuck the tourist crowds, fuck the tours, fuck the money, he already has a treasure right in front of him, demanding his attention.

you hear the dull thud of his phone hitting the counter, and a second later, Stan is already gripping your chin, tilting your face up, forcing you to look at him.

“you tryna kill me, sweetie?”

his brows furrowed, lips parted. you see his chest rise and fall in quick breaths as he licks his lips nervously.

“you just— you just gave me a fuckin’ hickey while i was on the damn phone.”

he stares at you, completely dumbfounded. but not even a minute goes by as you see the slow curl of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“god, you’re a naughty little thing, huh.” before you can even think of a response, his mouth is on yours.

it's more like an attack than a kiss honestly. Stan’s huge hands grab at your waist, yanking you against him, while his tongue immediately slides into your mouth, and you drown in this, tasting your man, soda, cigarette smoke. he kisses you like he’s starving, insistent, until your toes curl from the intensity.

“that was mean,” he licks your lips before diving back in. “real fuckin’ mean.”

you smile into the kiss, letting your hands wander over his chest, feeling the way his muscles tense under his clothes.

“didn’t hear you complain.”

“oh, i ain’t complainin’, sweetheart. just sayin’ now you’re in trouble.” you don’t even get the chance to reply, because he’s kissing you again

STANFORD / YOU GIVING

Ford Pines has one very dangerous trait, he endures. he endures when you look at him too closely, endures when you accidentally run your hand over his chest, endures when you bite your lip teasingly.

he endures until he’s on the edge. and today, it looks like you’ve pushed him right to it.

from the feeling of you sitting on his lap, Ford trembles beneath you. he’s sprawled in the chair, legs spread wide and awkward, as if trying to somehow hide what’s going on in his pants.

and it definitely doesn’t help that you’re leaning closer, pressing your thighs against him, cupping his face in your hands while his mouth is slightly open, while he, poor thing, is trying to keep up with you but just can’t. he’s pathetic, so pathetic that he can’t even kiss you back. his lips just part under yours, his tongue only follows your lead. such a good boy. so submissive, obedient. Ford can’t give, he can only receive for now

and you take full advantage of that.

“mmmh, wait,” his voice betrays him, trembling, but you don’t give him a chance to finish. your lips greedily cover his, kissing him demandingly. you press closer, catching that shaky breath when your tongue slides inside his mouth.

your fingers tangle in his hair, teasingly scratching his skin with your nails, feeling how he shudders. poor, poor Fordsy. his hands weakly clench on your back, trying to hold onto you, but even that he fails at.

but the worst thing is that hes already at his limit. this pressure, this hunger, your weight on him, your breath, your voice, your desire, all directed at him, is more than enough.

“you like this, huh?” your voice seeps straight into his already non-functioning brain. and he shivers when your lips trail down to his neck. “you like when i treat you like this. when i use you.”

Ford wants to beg to you to slow down, because his pants are so tight that just a little more and. . . fuck, he doesn’t want to cum like this. a scientist who fought for his life in other dimensions for thirty years shouldn’t cum from just kissing. but instead, he just whimpers, because your body rocks against him in gentle movements, just a little, just a bit of friction, but for Ford, it’s enough.

he won’t last.

“wait, darling, wait,” his fingers clutch at your clothes, and he literally whines when you catch his sensitive skin with your lips, finding that sweet spot and latching on, tormenting him.

and Ford can’t fight his own body, so with a long, drawn-out moan, he cums. he fucking cums in his pants just from a hickey.

his thighs twitch, and his limp body involuntarily presses into you. he literally surrenders to you, spilling right into his clothes.

and at first, he doesn’t even understand how it happened. Ford thinks this is fucking humiliating, a goddamn disgrace. he didn’t even need you to touch him, you were just on him, just breathing on his neck, and that was enough to make him cum like some desperate teenager. Ford lets out a pitiful whine, feeling the wetness slowly seep through the fabric as the stickiness clings to his skin down here.

and in turn, you feel it too, how it’s gotten warmer between you.

he’s ashamed. so fucking ashamed. but you only laugh.

“awwwh, Ford, you really are pathetic, huh?” you say it so affectionately, kissing his cheek as he turns away in shame. his cheeks and ears are flushed red, breath still heavy. six fingered hands, which had just been holding onto you, now hang limply at his sides.

Ford agrees with you. he knows you're right

YOU RECEIVING

this man is not okay.

he endured. endured for a long time. bit his fingers, looked away, pretended he had strong moral principles. pretended your jokes didn't get to him, your touches, the way you fix your hair, the way your lips are just a little wet after drinking from his flask.

but his patience ran out. and he was the first to snap.

Ford grabbed your wrist when you laughed again, saying something about his indecisiveness. he yanked you toward him and you didn’t expect it, so you stumbled, but didn’t fall, because his hands were already holding you.

your back hit the trunk of a tree, and you almost gasped, because the ground beneath your feet was damp, too slick, the morning rain had made the forest's ground soft, muddy, sticky. Ford’s boots sank into the soil, and you accidentally stepped on his foot so hard that you could hear the wet squelch of his soaked pants.

“oh, sorry,” you exhaled, trying to pull away, but he didn’t even let you say another word.

Ford wasn’t mad. he just didn’t give a fuck that’s why he leaned in and kissed you deeply, immediately, no words needed.

and that made you lean back a little. the damp spring air in your lungs instantly turned hot, sending waves of fluttering butterflies straight to your stomach.

Ford always kept himself in check. always tried to be rational, serious, careful. but now, with your lips finally pressed together and his body finally flush against yours, he didn’t want to hold back anymore

“mmh, Ford,” you pull away just slightly, trying to catch your breath, but he grabs your waist instantly

“you're not going anywhere,” he murmurs against your lips, and you let out a breathy laugh.

“yep, not if you hold me like this.”

he's gentle, but greedy and you're pliant, but still sharp.

“we’re alone, finally, we’re alone, sweetheart,” he breathes into your lips. six fingers press into your back trying to pull you even closer. “no one can see us. no one can stop me.” you try to squeeze your legs together from the sweetness pooling low in your stomach, but Ford has his knee right between them.

“Ford. . .”

“say my name again.”

six-fingered hands glide down your sides, and his lips are already moving lower, grazing your chin and your neck. you don’t even notice when your fingers bury themselves in his hair, when they run through damp, graying strands. you stroke him like he’s your obedient little pet and he groans at that.

“Forddd, mhmm,”

“you drive me insane," his lips find the spot just behind your ear

“really?” you tease again. “and here i thought we came here for anomalies.”

Ford almost growls. “we did.” his tongue drags over your skin. “and i found one.”

then happens something you never expected from your always shy and nerdy man. your eyes widen when you feel him gently tug at your skin. the first mark is left right by your collarbone. second is lower, near your shoulder and third is somewhere behind your ear, where you’re especially sensitive.

you shudder. “mh, Ford, wow, you really—“

“you wanted to tease me,” his voice is muffled, but you can feel his smirk against your skin. “now, my love, suffer the consequences.”

he holds you so tight you almost forget where you are. the forest, the mud, the interrupted anomaly hunt, none of it matters anymore

[bachiras-toaster]

jealousy and it’s consequences : ̗̀➛

BSD MEN x gn!reader

cw: smut, manipulation, obsessiveness, possessiveness, they’re all a little toxic (except atsushi), giving head (ranpo), receiving head (poe), riding (Atsushi), masturbation

synopsis. how bsd men deal with their jealousy after seeing you with their rival.

characters: dazai, chuuya, ranpo, poe, atushi, akutagawa

DAZAI, seeing you with Chuuya

He sees you with Chuuya? He dares you to hang out with him more. He's serious! Go wild. Hold hands, kiss him— Do it all right in front of Dazai. If you have the nerve to do all of those things in the first place, then surely you wouldn't be opposed to not doing it behind his back? If you're going to so obviously make him jealous, do it to his face.

He will take it out on the both of you-- You more-so than Chuuya. Dazai would probably give Chuuya a quiet and humorous warning, telling him that he could only give him so many more second chances before him hanging out with you really started to tick him off. As for you, he's gonna make sure he has you all to himself from there on out. It's clear that you purposefully making him jealous must be the result of him not giving you enough attention. Well, don't worry, because now he is completely focussed on you. He'll make sure that another person won't even do so much as look at you- Even if it means constantly having you at his side in the agency, cornering you and separating you from your coworkers.

The thing is, he'll act really nice about it, telling you how it's just because he wants you all to himself! He can't stand the thought of you around other people, and seeing you hang out with Chuuya just made him realise that. You're the light of his life, believe him. He can't have other people trying to take that away from him.

When it comes to the sex afterwards too, he gets even more needy. He's a lot more touchy with you, desperate to mark and grab any bit of skin that he can. He's whining and crying to you while he leaves his seventh hickey on your collarbone, his saliva pulling from your skin to his lip as he complains about how he feels so lost without you. Do you prefer Chuuya? Be honest with him. If you really loved him more, you'd let him leave more hickeys on you and you wouldn't try to conceal them the next day. You hated seeing how he teared up while doing so, it just meant you couldn't help but softly pat his head and sigh, treating him as if he were a sick puppy.

CHUUYA, seeing you with Dazai

He'd make his annoyance super obvious from the get-go. He probably wouldn't outright say he's jealous, but he'd heavily imply it. Whenever you come back to work, telling him that you had a fun day out with Dazai, you could swear you'd see Chuuya's eye twitch uncontrollably for a second or two. You'd constantly hear those remarks saying "What's so great about Dazai anyway?" or "How funny can he even really be?" Soon, those remarks tumble into off-handed insults, such as "Dazai doesn't have the mental capacity to take care of someone." He would never blame you for hanging out with him, it will always somehow be Dazai's fault. Dazai must have coaxed you and tricked you into hanging out with him!

His solution would simply be spending more time with you. But, instead of closing you off from the world, he shows you off instead. Insists on going out on dates, PDA in public, walking past the detective agency holding hands in the hopes that Dazai would see it through the window and take the hint... You know, the basic stuff.

But when he's fucking you, the jealousy really shines through that man's eyes. He has you pinned down as he thrusted deeper into you, forcing you to choke out his name as a flurry of moans escaped your lips. Are you still thinking about Dazai right now, or have you finally come to your senses? He's so relentlessly rough with you when he's jealous, so you better pray that that jealousy is mild and not angry, because your legs would have a field day. He'd keep going at it until he was satisfied, ensuring that only his name could linger on your tongue- Only then would he accept that you're only his.

RANPO, seeing you with Poe

Questions the hell out of you. Like, you've been spending a lot of time with Poe recently, haven't you? There's a sort of blunt curiosity to him and he just can't help but swarm you with these queries. "Did you hang out with Poe today?" "I heard you and Poe went to the park." "Yeah, I was busy earlier, but I'm glad you found someone else to hang out with. It was Poe, right?"

He would victimise himself a lot, really dramatising the situation. He'll ask you if you really love him or if you think he's actually worth hanging around. If not that, he'd constantly try and convince you why you should hang out with him instead. If he sees that you're about to leave the agency to go to and meet Poe, he'd immediately stop you. Suddenly, it looks like the perfect day to go for a stroll around the park with Ranpo, don't you think? Or go to the movies? Maybe a nice library? You can even choose the place! Just don't choose Poe over him, he will cry when you're not looking.

Giving him head is the only possible solution to convince him that you wouldn't leave him for somebody else. Having you tucked sweetly between his legs as he leaned back in his office chair, his hand gently stroking the back of your neck- He really deserves this after going through the stress of thinking that you and Poe had something going on. He's an arrogant man, but he can't help but worry, you know? But since you can put aside some time in your schedule just for him, then he supposed that he shouldn't be too concerned.

POE, seeing you with Ranpo

He isn't very surprised at the idea that you could choose Ranpo over him, because of course! Anyone would. It's Ranpo, right? The smartest man alive- Who wouldn't choose Ranpo over Poe? If destroys is self-esteem and his self-worth seeing you and his rival get along so well and so easily. He is very aware of the fact that Ranpo is very intelligent, but would he have the brains to take you away from him? Is he that cruel of a person?

He tries everything to win you over from that man. Even if you don't realise it, doing so much as interact with Poe's rival is enough for him to spiral and to cause him to believe that you must already be considering ditching him. What is it that you want? Gifts? He can deliver that to you in truckloads. Do you want a relaxing holiday? He'll write up a cute story for you, no problem. Poe would kiss the ground that you walked on if it meant that you chose him over Ranpo. He would try everything in his power to remove that man out of the picture, but we all know that there isn't a novel complex enough to trap the Ranpo Edogawa.

So now Poe's tucked between your thighs, working his tongue at your senses as begging that you stay with him. The head is good, right? Tell him that it's good. Tell him he's doing a good job. You need to ensure him that you could never leave him for someone else, otherwise he'll keep whining about it against your skin. He'll continuously ask you if you like how he makes you feel so he can ensure that he can keep doing the right things. He's a listener. If he finds out what you like, he'll use it to his complete advantage.

ATSUSHI, seeing you with Akutagawa

Perhaps the least toxic one when it comes to dealing with jealousy. He doesn't blame you, he only blames himself. You know he gets super self conscious, right? There's no doubt that you're only hanging out with Akutagawa because he hasn't been treating you well enough. At first, he would confide in his friends, like Kyouka or Kunikida. Kyouka would threaten to hurt you, but he would frantically beg her not to put you in harm’s way; and Kunikida would tell him that he shouldn't be jealous, and that you're allowed to have other friends. But he simply can't help it.

It would lead him to pour his entire heart into taking care of you. He needs you to know that he loves you completely, and that you're the only one for him. Gifts, dates, compliments, praise, he'll provide it all for you. If you still choose Akutagawa after all of that, he'll accept it, but he hopes you'll choose him in the end.

So now you need to ride him, tilting his chin up so you could stare down at his pretty little face. He'd whine and cuddle you as you bounced up and down on his lap, blushing profusely as he mutters how much he loves you. He'll give everything to you, everything you want. He'll treat you right. He doesn't want to be jealous, he just wants to be yours.

AKUTAGAWA, seeing you with Atsushi

What could that stupid weretiger have that he doesn't? He's threatened to kill Atushi enough times now, so seeing you interact with him doesn't help his bloodlust and the desire to knock his lights out- in fact, it's just a greater motivation.

And his jealousy is so obvious in the way he threatens you too, grabbing you by the collar and telling you he wouldn't hesitate to have the Port Mafia toss you on the side of the street if you continue conversing with the enemy. You need to make a decision: The Port Mafia or the Armed Detective Agency- Akutagawa or Atsushi? The decision is clear, right? He knows that you wouldn’t dare choose the weretiger over him and you were simply doing this in order to get a rise out of him. He knew all too well.

So now, instead of giving you all of the attention you could dream for, he ignores you. He turns away and isolates you until you’re practically begging for his attention once again. It was just a joke, you just wanted a little bit more love— That’s what you would tell him, but it would never be enough to undo the anger in his heart.

There is no jealousy sex that comes afterwards, it’s just plain voyeurism. While he works on something to do with another one of the Port Mafia’s upcoming attacks, he’d tell you to touch yourself while he plans this and if you’re good by the end of it, he’ll finish the job. But now that just leaves you in another seat on the other side of the room, your legs spread open as you tried to stimulate yourself at the sight of him working. Of course, Akutagawa had no intention of actually touching you to serve as punishment-but you weren’t aware of that, leaving you whining and biting down on your lip as you prayed he would look at you for just a second. Even through your masturbation, he still chose not to look you in the eye, which you found was even more agitating than him not touching you instead.

[hbyrde36]

Runner

Steddie | Mature | WC: 3004 | Angst w/ a happy ending | AO3

“When I got to the shore I tried calling you guys but, uh,” Eddie paused where he crouched under the protective canopy of Skull Rock, taking a long greedy gulp from the canteen Dustin had tossed him as he stared up at their group. Even now he seemed to be making a concerted effort to avoid Steve’s gaze as much as possible, a detail Steve couldn’t help but notice.

“My walkie was busted, man. Drenched. So, uh, I did the thing that I do now apparently…” Eddie went on, wiping at the water dripping off his chin with the sleeve of his leather jacket, his mouth twisting into a wide, wry smile. “I ran.”

Despite the words being spat with anger and self-deprecating venom, Eddie’s dimples were on full display, a sight Steve hadn’t had directed at him in months. Seeing it now, like this, only made his heart ache. 

Eddie wasn’t a runner, was the thing. 

Steve knew that. Anyone with eyes knew that. Eddie would gleefully stare down a guy twice his size, go toe to toe with the meanest assholes Hawkins High had to offer without hesitation to keep his people safe. And sure, sometimes Eddie got his ass beat, but he hadn’t cultivated that freak reputation for nothing. These days, more often than not, bullies and their minions stood down when Eddie’s hackles rose.

“Do you know what time this was? The attack?” Nancy asked, business first as usual. As if she couldn't see the poor guy was on the verge of losing it, or probably she just didn’t care. It was all about the task at hand. 

“Yeah, no, I… I know exactly what time it was.” Still wearing that same unnerving smile, Eddie began to unbuckle the watch on his wrist, tossing it at her. “My walkie wasn’t the only thing that got soaked.”

Nancy peered at the watch’s face, reading it off. “9:27.”

“Same time our flashlight went kablooey,” Robin said.

“Which means what exactly?” Steve asked, a hint of an attitude he couldn’t quite shut down before it came out of his mouth. He knew they were pressed for time to figure all this shit out, they were always under the gun when the Upside Down was involved, but he couldn’t help being annoyed about it. Couldn’t the world just stop for five fucking minutes to give them a chance to breathe a regroup? To give Eddie some time to process this mess he’d accidentally fallen into?

As Nancy and Robin continued to brainstorm, and Dustin paced around talking to himself and doing god-knew-what, Eddie took the opportunity to slink away. Either not realizing Steve still had his eye on him, or not thinking he’d follow, Eddie rose, stalking off under the alcove of the giant rock formation and out the other side.

With a pit in his gut Steve did move to follow, the idea of letting Eddie out of his sight now that they’d found him again filling him with panic. Of course, that was also the moment Dustin decided to pay attention to something except that stupid compass of his again, and quickly bounded to Steve’s side.

“I got it, Henderson,” Steve said, dropping a hand on Dustin’s shoulder to stop him in his tracks. “You stay here and put that brain to use or something.”

Dustin gave him a confused glare, and rightly so, Steve supposed. As far as he and everyone else was concerned he’d barely known Eddie before now, beyond the fact that they’d walked the same school halls for four years. Not even Robin had any idea that he and Eddie had a history.

A brief history that hadn’t ended well, because no, Eddie wasn’t a runner.

But it turned out that Steve… Steve was.

He found Eddie only a few yards away, off the trail and deep in the trees like he’d been searching for shadows to hide in, back turned, head bowed, and an almost imperceptible shake to his shoulders.

“Eddie?” Steve called out, softly.

Eddie stiffened at the sound of Steve’s voice, back straightening as he replied. “Leave me alone, man.” He sounded so small, exhausted, and totally unlike himself.

Steve wished he could say something to comfort him, tell him they’d figure this out, that it would be alright. But it would be a hopeful lie at best, and besides, he was probably the last person Eddie would want to take comfort from anyway.

“Come on, Ed—”

“Fuck off, Harrington,” Eddie hissed as he turned around, rubbing roughly at his face.

“I can’t,” was all Steve could say at first. He hadn’t thought through what it would be like seeing Eddie on his own, with no buffer from the group and nothing to distract him from getting lost in the draw of his presence and those dark fathomless eyes.

Eddie sneered, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

“I-I mean… I-I just don’t think it’s safe for you to be alone right now,” Steve stuttered out. “For any of us to be alone.”

Eddie scoffed. “Like you care.”

Steve took an involuntary step closer, his hands itching to reach out and brush the hair back from Eddie's face, to feel the stubbled skin of Eddie’s cheek under his palm. It took all his strength to hold back.

“I guess I deserved that,” he said through a puff of air.

He deserved that and more.

It’d all started last summer. A few days after the battle at Starcourt when Steve was desperate for a little pain management, something more effective than the measly Tylenol his parents kept in the medicine cabinet. On a whim he’d ventured over to Forest Hills, recalling rumors that Hawkins High’s own resident drug dealer, Eddie Munson, might sell something stronger than skunk weed if you asked nicely and could pay.

Steve was only hoping for a few prescription painkillers; what he got instead was dragged bodily inside by a boy he’d never shared more than two words with, sat down on a comfortable if well-worn couch, and given a bag of frozen peas for his still sore and swollen eye.

After a wordless once-over of the rest of him, Eddie had ducked out of the room, returning with a tube of some sort of cream and a frown so deep it made his forehead wrinkle.

“For the rope burn,” Eddie’d said in explanation as he carefully rubbed the stuff into the raw skin of Steve’s wrists and a few friction burns on his legs.

“It’s, uh, it’s not what it looks like,” Steve had said, dumbly.

Eddie leveled him with a flat look. “So you’re not a sub?” 

“Sub?” Steve asked, crinkling his brow.

“Submissive? You know, dom, sub?”

Steve still had no idea what Eddie was on about, but the other boy clearly wasn’t buying it.

Eddie shook his head, unimpressed. “You don’t have to play cute, Harrington, I won’t tell anyone you were up to some freaky shit. I mean… who would believe me anyway?”

Freaky shit…?

Oh.

Finally, it clicked.

Somehow Eddie had gotten the entirely wrong idea about the nature of his wounds, and not being able to tell him the actual truth, he really had no choice but to let Eddie keep on thinking he’d been dabbling in bondage with an overeager date who apparently, ‘didn’t understand the concept of aftercare.’

“I’m not an expert in this shit or anything,” Eddie was quick to explain. “But I've read some magazines, and taking care of your sub after seems to be, like, the most important part of the whole thing.”

Steve swallowed hard, trying not to think about why Eddie had been perusing bondage mags, and what other reading material he kept stashed under his mattress.

“Good to know.”

He’d spent the rest of that night sinking into the comfort of Eddie’s couch and company, talking, getting to know Eddie, letting himself be known in turn, the whole while puffing on a shared joint until Steve was so high that he’d lost his filter completely. From one moment to the next he went from talking about his very public fight and subsequent break up with Nancy the year before, to telling Eddie how pretty he was, how he wondered what Eddie’s hair would feel like wound up in his fingers, and the next thing he knew he was straddling Eddies lap with his tongue down his throat, gaining an entirely new perspective and appreciation for dry humping.

The weeks that followed were somewhat of a blur. 

In his daytime hours Steve refused to think about what he was doing, unable and unwilling to come to terms with what it all meant—about himself, about his sexuality, about what he wanted out of life. But in the night, he always found his way to Forest Hills. 

What had started on the couch eventually made its way into Eddie’s bedroom. Steamy make out sessions led to frantic desperate handjobs, handjobs led to the most incredible head of Steve’s life—both given and taken—and when Eddie asked Steve to fuck him for the first time it was like the gates to heaven had flung themselves wide open. Before long Steve found he was living for those few hours where he gave himself over to it, to Eddie.

It was inevitable that the fragile bubble Steve had built would burst. He thought for a while it would be Robin, bugging him relentlessly for why he’d been too busy to hang out with her lately. In the end though, it was his own idiocy at fault. He should have known it was only a matter of time before he wanted more with Eddie than just casually hooking up.

And at the first sign of more, when the vision he had for the future began to shift and change, the children he’d dreamed of having one day vanishing before his eyes, he realized how different it would all be if he gave in to this. How difficult.

He panicked.

Shut down—shut it down.

With no word of goodbye or explanation he stopped showing up at the trailer, refused to answer Eddie’s calls, and did his best to pretend that Eddie had never existed once the calls stopped entirely.

It hadn’t worked.

Because Steve and his traitorous heart had fallen in love with a guy who’d probably only given him the time of day because it was convenient. Even if Eddie had at one point harbored the same feelings for him, by the time Steve came to any sort of terms with his sexuality, he was sure it was too late to go back and make it right. 

More than once he thought about trying anyway. Showing up at the trailer unannounced like he had all those months ago to see if Eddie would let him in or slam the door in his face. But then the kids had started high school, and Dustin came bursting into Family Video so excited and fresh off his first day of freshman year to tell Steve all about his cool new friend Eddie who ran the D&D club. 

Again, Steve had let himself be spooked, and regretted it every day since.

“Don’t worry about it, pretty boy,” the Eddie standing in front of him said, shaking Steve from his thoughts of the past. 

“So we fucked. So what?” Eddie went on with a flippant shrug. “It was nothing. You had your fun experimenting and then went back to your real life. You weren’t the first, probably won’t be the last. Not that any of it matters now.”

“It matters to me,” Steve said, matter-of-factly, hoping Eddie would believe him but knowing with absolute certainty that he wouldn’t.

“Right,” Eddie snorted. “Since when?”

“Since always.”

“Oh please,” Eddie spat, eyes rolling in dramatic fashion. “Give me a fucking break with the good guy bullshit, I aint buying. You don’t have to lie to me just because we’re stuck in this nightmare together.”

“I’m not lying, Eddie, I–I…” Despite the months he’d spent imagining what he’d say to Eddie if he ever got the chance, Steve hesitated, choking on his words

“That’s what I thought.” Eddie gave a single nod, a barely audible sigh escaping his lips as he tried to push his way past Steve and back to the path.

“Could you just fucking stop for a minute!” Steve grabbed for Eddie before he could get completely out of reach, fingers circling his bony wrist and holding on for dear life. His mind was overwhelmed with the irrational fear that if he let Eddie walk away now, he’d never get another chance to fix this. 

Eddie shot him a glare, but surprisingly didn’t try to pull his arm away. 

“I know I don’t deserve it, but please let me explain,” Steve pleaded.

“I’m all ears, your highness.”

Steve's stomach turned sour at the reference to his old nickname. Eddie knew he hated it, that he hated so much of what and who he used to be, but he couldn’t exactly blame Eddie for wanting to hurt him too. And as much as he despised this tension between them, there was also a twisted part of him that hoped that if Eddie was this mad at him for disappearing from his life, maybe that meant he had cared for Steve too. Maybe it meant… he could care again. 

“It wasn’t nothing,” Steve whispered, his thumb rubbing small circles into Eddie's skin where he was still holding on. “Not to me.”

“What?” Eddie breathed, staring down at the spot of contact.

“You said it was nothing. And I guess at first it was but…” Steve started and stopped, raking his free hand through his hair as he struggled to find the words. “When I showed up at your place that first night, all I was looking for was a little relief. I didn’t expect…” he trailed off, getting stuck again but he was determined to force this out now matter how painful it was to admit. 

“I didn’t expect to fall for you.”

Eddie’s head snapped up at that, but his mouth remained closed, set into a tight line as he watched the bob of Steve's throat.

“I wasn’t ready to deal with it, any of it. The feelings I had for you, the fact that I was—am, whatever that makes me. I freaked out and I ran away and I’m so sorry. I should have talked to you about it, and instead I tried to bury my head in the sand. But I couldn't even do that right.”

Eddie was still dead silent, his gaze searching Steve’s face for a long beat before he finally spoke. “What are you saying?”

Before Steve could reply, Robin’s voice rang out from somewhere close behind them. “Steve? What are you guys doing out here?” 

He resisted the urge to pull away, but looked back over his shoulder to see her standing near, eyes a little wide and confused.

“We, um, we gotta go. Little Einstein figured out how to find a gate and we think there’s one nearby,” She said, and quickly turned back the way she came. 

Steve could have kissed her for not addressing what she’d surely seen, though he knew he’d have to deal with her and about a million questions later, which was fine. They were long overdue for this particular conversation anyway. 

“Can we finish this later?” Steve asked, quietly when she was out of earshot, giving Eddie’s arm a gentle squeeze before finally letting go.

“Yeah,” Eddie replied, a little rasp to his voice, and looking almost as shell shocked as he had when they found him in the boathouse. “Yeah, okay.”

Steve wasn’t naive enough to think he’d fixed anything, not completely, but as they headed down the path to find others, walking side-by-side, it felt like they’d made a good start.

Steve should have seen it coming. 

Wasn’t it the first rule of horror movies or something? Don’t promise someone you’ll talk to them later, and expect them to make it out alive. 

Of course, Eddie did make it out alive, thankfully, if not quite in one piece. He’d carry some gnarly battle scars for the rest of his life, but the important bits would heal in time, and if Eddie allowed it, Steve would dedicate his life to making sure Eddie knew those scars of his only made him more beautiful. Proof that he cared so much for Dustin, and for the world, that he’d been willing to put it all on the line. 

He just needed Eddie to wake up first.

Two days in the hospital came and went with no signs of change. The doctors all said they didn’t know why Eddie was still asleep, they were sure he’d wake up soon but with every passing hour Steve grew more and more afraid, his heart climbing into his throat whenever there was so much as a flutter of Eddie’s long dark lashes.

Steve refused to leave his side. Once he was cleaned up, bandaged, and medically cleared himself, he’d taken his place at Eddie’s bedside. An unmoving sentry, determined to be there holding Eddie’s hand the moment he opened his eyes. After an evening of false alarms, It was the middle of the night, on the cusp of day three when it finally happened.

“Steve?” Eddie mumbled in the quiet hush of the room as he finally came-to, nose wrinkling under the weight of the oxygen tubes when he tried to turn his head. “What are…” he paused, hacking a dry cough, voice rough with disuse. “What are you doing here?”

Steve raised Eddie’s hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against the back of it. before carefully setting it down on the bed so he could grab the cup at his side, the one he filled with new water every day, offering Eddie the straw and a smile.

“I’m not running away this time, baby.”

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[angelicqsa]

.ೃ࿐ 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝖽𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 | 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗒 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | 𝗌𝖾𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 3, 𝖡𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖯𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗒𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖡𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝖺𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗁𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇

𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨 | 𝖥𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗋 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌𝗌𝗌!

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

“ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ”, ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀɪᴅ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡᴀꜱ, ɪᴛ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴍɪɴᴇ, ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ.” – ᴅᴀᴠɪᴅ ʟᴇᴠɪᴛʜᴀɴ

────────────˚🦢・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆────────────

Being with bellamy was everything to me. You two were a perfect picture couple, ever since yall met; on the dropship the first day the 100 came down, you and Bellamy had chemistry. Despite you not liking his 'whatever the hell we want' motto you decide to give him a chance, and to let him in your heart. Since then its been nothing but pure bliss and a strong feeling of content. He'd always hold you and whisper sweet nothings and treat you like someone. And for once in your life you felt like you was important to someone, and you felt like you had meaning in life which is something you had never felt before. But now, its as if a summertime sadness has hit.

When Pike and Bellamy had been having these hush conversations he started acting a little off and the soft love touches were soon replaced with intense stares. It was as if a switch had flipped in him, a battle with dark vs light and the dark took over the light inside him. He walks out of the bathroom into your shared room and you ask, "Is everything okay Bellamy? You're acting a little off. You can talk to me you know?" You whisper as he climbs into bed and just stares at me as if i said nothing.

With a gruff sound he responds in a monotone way, "I'm fine. Just some stuff with Pike and Kane." he turns his back towards me before you could even respond he turns off his lamp on his side of the bed. Feeling disappointment wash through me, you turn off my lamp and let out a sigh then turn your back on him and lay there, with him consuming your last thoughts for the night.

That was about a week ago and since then, Pike has became the chancellor with Bellamy's help, Bellamy keeps distancing himself farther and farther away from you it's a contrast to how just a few weeks ago you two were a perfect couple, laughing together, secretly running off, fixing the cars together and just overall enjoying each others company. Everything has changed.

You finish up my work in the library, fixing books and collecting books that were once borrowed. You walk to the bar spotting Jasper, "Hey Jasper. How you holdin' up?" You ask curiously as you pull up a seat next to him. you were secretly hoping he wouldn't blame me for Maya's death for the 15th time in the past month which of course you felt somewhat guilty about, but you're aware that it wasn't you who killed her, and the ones responsible held an immense amount of guilt, not only for her, but for all the victims.

"Hey.." Jasper says drunkenly, while nodding off. He had bags under his eyes as if he never sleeps, which could be possibles considering the grief he was feeling. His grief and his drinking go hand in hand, everytime you see Jasper he's either drunk or on his way to being drunk. It was sad seeing your friend destroy himself.

"How are you tod-" You quickly get cut off to Lincoln being dragged out of medical by one of Pike's goons while angrily cursing at them in Trigedasleng.

"What the fuck is going on!?" You rush over to the scene while looking at Lincoln getting dragged away and you spot Bellamy standing next to Pike without a care in the world that Lincoln; one of his friends, was getting dragged out.

You rush over to Bellamy, anger quickly filling my veins you grab his wrist and mutter to Pike "Can you excuse us for a moment?" you don't even give him a chance to respond before dragging Bellamy to our room.

He looks confused when you first started dragging him, "Hey! what's wrong!" You ignore him.

He tries again and says, "Why are you angrily dragging me like i did something wrong?" Again. Silence.

He sighs angrily and says, "Now you're ignoring me!?" You simply roll your eyes, still angry and stay silent.

"Im so confused! What did i do!?"

The last sentence was shouted as soon as you hit the door and you soon as you shut the door the anger in you swells, the anger that has been continuously increasing these past few weeks that you ultimately end up ejecting at Bellamy with full force.

"Are you fucking serious right now Bellamy!? 'What did i do', 'What did i do wrong?' You fucking know what you did wrong!," Bellamy looks at you in surprise at the burst of anger you just threw at him and tries to interject,

"Is this about Lincoln? I really coul-" You hold your hand up as a sign for him to stop talking and also yell,

"Im not fucking finished talking Bellamy! Im gonna talk and you're gonna fucking listen! I've been feeling like shit for these past few weeks! You've been cold towards me. You've been putting Pike and your loyalty before your loyalty to your friends whos been with you when we were dropped on this planet to die! I-.. I don't know who you are anymore Bellamy, it truly hurts to say that." You feel a pool form in your eyes as you explode, your emotions feel all over the place and you can almost see how this is gonna end. And the 'end' that formed in your mind wasn't a happy ending.

Bellamy looks at you, his eyes soft, opposite to the rough and intense eyes you'd been getting these past few weeks. Bellamy opens his mouth then quickly closes it processing what you had said.

He whispers, scared that an increase of volume might get his heart broken. "Im sorry, i- i didnt mean to make you feel like that. I had no idea you felt like that."

The tears fall down your face as if youre a window on a rainy day, you look down deep in thought and prepare for the answer you might get for this next question. "Do you love me anymore Bellamy?" You say as your voice cracks. You're too afraid to look at his expression, but suddenly you feel his fingers on your chin forcing you to look up at him. He looks broken, he also had tears in his eyes.

"You think i don't love you...? How- How could you think that? I live my life for you. Anywhere you go i go. You've became a big part of my life and showed me what being truly loved is like. I love you always and forever, and i promise ill do everything to make you feel the love i feel for you." He says while crying in guilt for making her ever feel that way. How could he make her feel like that? This girl is the love of his life. The person he wanted to spend all his years with and build a family with.

"I love you Bellamy. So so much." you smile while connecting my forehead with his. "We'll get through this together." you kiss him passionately, all the anger already gone and replaced with love and happiness. See this is the boy you fell in love with.

You two passionately kiss and the kiss progressively gets deeper and more needy. He back away first, breathlessly he says, "Can i show you how much i love you? Baby let me worship you."

You nod your head and kiss him again before he picks you up and you yelp in surprise. "Maybe a warning next time" You giggle as he places you on the bed and starts to move his hands around your body making sure to touch everywhere.

Your body tingles as you feel his hands all over you. He towers over you and kisses you slowly before moving to your neck and making sweet love spots.

'Mmm Bell..' You mutter as he licks and sucks, those mutters eventually turn into moans.

"You gotta keep it down baby. Can you do that for me?" He asks as he pauses from sucking your neck. You nod and he proceeds.

You feel the warmth on your neck suddenly disappear and then you feel your pants being slid off slowly and look down to see Bellamy making eye contact while playing with your panties.

"You're so gorgeous.. how'd i get so lucky?" He says. He then rises up and removes your shirt, exposing your bra. He ends up taking that off and looking at your boobs as if he's seen a million dollars. He starts sucking on one of your nipples while kneading the other one in his hand. You whimper at the blissful sensations while making eye contact with him which just increases the nectar coming out your pussy.

He kisses the nipple he had just been sucking on and moves on to the next one making you bite your lip in pleasure whining at the good sensation.

He then moves to the valley of your breast and starts making open mouthed kisses down to the part where your panties were. He mumbles "These shouldnt be on" and rips them off.

"Hey! i liked those!" You say gasping as you feel the air on your vagina.

"Theres plenty more baby." He says while looking at you with a smirk. He then licks a long strip from your clit down to my entrance. "You're getting my fingers and my tongue today ok baby?" He says while breathing hard out his nose. You love how he still was somewhat dominant even when its supposed to be soft and him worshipping your body you still love the sense of dominance he brings.

"Yes baby thats ok." You whimper out while looking at him with anticipation. He attacks your clit first, circling your clit slowly before sucking which he repeats for a minute. He then places open mouthed kisses on your vagina as he did when he was working on your chest.

You moan at the sensations feeling it deep inside your core almost close to coming. But you didn't want to come that quick and have the night be over with already. You arch your back into his tongue while he licks and suck as if you vagina was a lollipop. You felt close and felt pure bliss ignoring the words he had once muttered earlier 'you gotta keep it down baby' well being cautious of your volume was long gone as soon as his tongue made contact with your clit.

He sucks on your clit which brings you closer to the edge. "F-fuck Bell.. im-im close!" You struggle to say, lost in the sensations and tingles your body was feeling. One last lick did the trick for you and you cum all over his tongue. He smirks and groans as he feels your hot cum. He swallows it before coming back up to kiss you, and when you kiss him you taste yourself all over his lips and tongue.

"Your moans sound amazing, i want more out of you.." He says softly before going back down and sticking a finger inside of you making you moan loudly as you arch your back with your lips parted and your eyes magically shut as he pumps in and out of you. You moan loudly calling out his name as if he was a god.

And that was how you night ended. Feeling worshiped and cared about by the man you love most. But everyone else the next day had heard you being worshiped and you calling our Bellamy's name. An embarrassment but with a good outcome.

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙙𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 🤍

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐яєqυєѕт!

─────────⋆˚࿔ 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐪𝐬𝐚𝜗𝜚˚⋆─────────

[solar-wing]

⚣ Submission 🗣️

⚣🗣️ A/N → Something I couldn't get out of my head after I saw this TikTok. You can't tell me this wouldn't be Jason in this situation. WARNINGS: none

⚣🗣️ Summary → Imagine being in a relationship with Jason Todd where you know Jason could easily beat you in a fight but it never stops you from talking shit as if you’ll fuck him up, and he just lets you…

⚣🗣️ Words → 851

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🗣️

It’s not something Jason admits he finds amusing and adorable about you, but the fact that he lets you do it without any real pushback is telling enough. Because imagine, this towering and colossal-sized man, definitely over 6 feet and huge mass with the muscles to show and is a trained fighter (no matter how informal), getting beaten in a fight between him and his shorter and/or smaller boyfriend.

And it’s not to say you could never beat him in a fight, oh no! Your Jaybirdie would never want you to believe he doubts your capability and skills like that. Actually, he’d very much like and would encourage you to be able to learn how to take him down. It would help with his anxiety and fear of you being out in the world without him there to protect you, feeling more at ease knowing you could defend yourself if need be.

He’s definitely planning to make that a reality, because if you two are going to continue to be in a relationship, Jason needs to know that you can protect yourself without him there. It’s something you both talked about and he made it clear when you first got into a serious relationship about him and his family’s side careers.

But, until then, Jason will happily and silently enjoy the trash-talking and play fights with you. It just gives him more of an excuse to have your body rubbing against his, the perv…

It always starts small and silly.

Whether you’re just feeling playful or want attention, it doesn’t matter. You and Jason will be cuddling on the couch or the bed and engaging in your usual harmless domestic banter. Or he’ll be minding his own business cooking, reading, or going over cases and reports, and you’ll just come up and start messing with him.

Messing up his hair, poking him in his face, slapping his butt, and shoving against his body. Despite popular belief, Jason has a somewhat good level of patience and will endure it, but then you start talking shit.

“Oh, was that important? Looks like you’ll need to start over,” You’ll say after purposely jerking his hand while he was writing notes down on a mission report.

“Oops, looks like you dropped something. You’re so freaking clumsy,” said with a jeering tone after knocking the book Jason was reading out of his hands.

“Aww, is the little baby getting upset? Don’t cry baby, it’ll be okay,” You’ll respond in the most insulting baby voice knowing how much Jason despises it and usually ends up being his last straw.

The vigilante will give a soft shove and a warning look to you and that’s all you need. You’ll start taunting him even more and pushing yourself against him, grabbing at his wrists and arms as he holds you back.

“You feeling tough all of sudden? Am I going to have to mess you up like last time?”

Ding. Ding. Ding.

The next moment, Jason’s patience has officially run out and now, the two of you are rolling around on the bed, couch, and floor trying to pin the other. Well, you’re trying to pin him.

Jason’s just holding you off with ease and letting you slip out of his grabs now and then, letting you think you’ve got a chance. Of course, that leads to more shit-talking.

“Man, what kind of criminals are you fighting? You’re no match for me.”

Of course, as things will go when it comes to wrestling between two males, it eventually gets a little out of hand. You’ll shove Jason too hard, accidentally land a hit on his face or nether region, or you’ll even purposefully try to cheat to which your boyfriend responds by immediately putting you in a submission.

Never anything too rough or painful, just enough to immobilize you until you calm down and stop fighting back. But, even the non-painful ones are a bit much for you since you’re not used to fighting like Jason is, so you’ll typically give in within a few seconds, especially when he puts a little pressure on you and jerks you a bit as payback for all the trash talk.

It doesn’t stop you though, since as soon as you’re both done and back to whatever you were doing, you’ll continue to talk shit at your boyfriend like you had him in submission.

“Hopefully you learned your lesson.”

“We can clearly see who the big guy is in this relationship now. Don’t worry little man, maybe you’ll win again next time.”

“Light work. Maybe we should get you some classes small fry.”

And so much more trash-talking and playful jabs until the next round. But, Jason doesn’t mind. As long as he’s the one getting to put you in a submission at the end, he’ll let you trash-talk him all day, every day.

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[ponderingmoonlight]

Darlin', can I be your favorite?

Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: In a world full of death and tortue, wouldn't it be the easiest to seduce a man who is able to protect you at any cost? Ryomen Sukuna definetely is exactly that. Now, the seduction part...

Warnings: no really deep plot, just some teasing and a little bit of spice here and there, language, reader trying to seduce Sukuna with literally everything lol

Inspired by the song "favorite" by Isabel LaRosa

Your mission was clear since the first time you saw him in action, felt how strong he is: Get Sukuna to fucking adore you.

It might sound ridiculous to the untrained ear. Sukuna, the king of curses, the most frightful creature walking on this planet? To even consider you’d be able to warm his heart is worth a laughter. You know exactly how all the others would react when they hear your wild plan to seduce him, to get him to catch feelings for only you.

But what better defense than having the king of curses by your side? This fucking world is nothing but a battlefield and as a jujutsu sorcerer, you’re in the middle of it. Day in day out you risk your life in order to safe others. And even though it might sound tempting to simply haunt after Gojo Satoru, it’s not the same.

No, you want Ryomen Sukuna and no one else.

Your heels click against the floor as you make your way through Shibuya’s train station, Sukuna’s fingers lying in your purse comfortably. What better way to catch a glimpse into his heart than giving him back those? Well, to be exact you don’t have a set plan apart from getting him to like you. After all, love can’t be forced, right?

Well, that skin tight dress paired with those high heels you chose for today might do that, though.

“Now, where are you Yuji?”, you mumble to yourself, eyes darting around the worn-down area.

There is no doubt in the fact that a fight occurred here not long ago. The air still smells like blood and sweat, the wall is still hot from an enormous impact. But who? Was it Yuji? You follow a trail of blood with your hips swinging from side to side. You just need to find him, need to seduce the king of curses. This is your best chance to not croak in this shitty job.

Your heels stop in their tracks.

A tuft of pink hair rests against the entrance of the rest room, so minor that you almost missed it.

Almost.

You walk towards the beat-up boy while casually inspecting him. He’s definitely alive, but barely. Yuji’s whole face is covered in multiple cuts and bruises. Who on earth did he fight against? And where is that other person? No, it’s not your responsibility to think about that right now. With a swift motion you open your purse and reveal those oh so deadly fingers.

“Now be a good boy and swallow”, you purr.

Your hand grabs his neck and yanks his head upwards while you carefully feed Yuji Sukuna’s fingers. Please, let this work. You are tired to the brim of running away, of fighting curse after curse each and every day. How about a peaceful life with Sukuna by your side? Fuck Jujutsu High, fuck Satoru Gojo. You don’t want to die before you were even able to live properly.

“Get your hands off me, human.”

For a moment, your heart skips a beat. Just one look into his red gleaming eyes and suddenly so matured face is enough for you to realize that this isn’t Yuji anymore. No, the person you are sitting on with your hand wrapped around his neck is none other than Ryomen Sukuna.

Finally.

“Oh, you’re awake. That went smoother than I thought”, you reply with a cheeky grin, not moving an inch away from him like he told you to.

“Who the hell are you, brat?”

He has definitely seen you before, you are a jujutsu sorcerer without any doubt. But why are so damn close, why does your hand wrap so delicately around his neck? Your dark eyes rest on his face unpromising, lashes hanging into your orbs seductively. What’s that supposed to be?

“My name’s whatever you make it. But how about wife?”

Sukuna isn’t able to move, let alone speak. Did you really introduce yourself to the king of curses like that? He shouldn’t waste any time, wring your neck the way you deserve it, dissolve you into tiny pieces. Who the hell do you think you are to speak to him like that? You, a puny woman? Not even the fact that you reunited him with a few of his missing fingers is enough to spare your life.

But why…Why does he still sit there like he did before, allowing your hand to rest against his neck? Why is he unable to give you a sharp answer like he always does?

“I am the king of curses”, is the only thing he’s able to press out.

“And I’ll be your girl. Deal?”

He lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, eyes scanning your features up and down. You do have a pretty decent face for a human, your delicate eyes keeping him trapped. That confidence dripping from each and every pore of yours, the way your body is so near that he’s able to hear your blood circulate…

“What the hell are you talking about, stupid girl? If I wanted to, I could kill you without even flinching. Now get off me and run for your life.”

When Sukuna finally regained his threatening voice again, he expected your heart to shiver, your body to stumble backwards until you run away. But instead, you move even closer and dare to sit on top of him, gleaming eyes now staring him into the ground while your naked thighs rub against his pants.

“But you didn’t. Think I must be your favorite.”

The fact that he didn’t kill you right on the spot when you disobeyed his order is enough proof that your plan is actually working. Yes, you managed to confuse the king of curses, to arouse his interest. Now the only thing that’s left is seducing him.

“You are annoying as hell. Now get off me, I have some work to do”, he barks back at you.

His hand grabs your wrist roughly and removes your grip around his neck. But instead of simply throwing you off him, he holds your arm in place while keeping only inches of distance.

Oh, his lips are so close that you are literally able to taste them. Just one movement, one innocent flinching of your hips above his and the gap between you both is closed.

“Are you trying to seduce me, dumb girl?”, he breathes out.

He does it so well, keeping himself cool and composed while his mind races back and forth with your intoxicating smell penetrating his nose. In his long life, there was never a woman who actually tried to seduce him. After all, he’s the king of curses, so strong because of the fact that he never felt love or affection for anyone in all those years. He’s heartless, cold, a menace. Why would a woman ever get the idea of showing him affection? He came here to kill, to destroy this fucking city and make that brat suffer.

But now there’s you.

And apparently you couldn’t care less about the fact that he’s the king of curses.

“Actually, I am”, you purr, your free hand beginning to draw small circles onto his chest.

“Why would you do something so fucking stupid?”

“I mean, you’re the strongest, right?”

He has to blink a few times, the way you look at him as if he’s the dumb one catching him completely off guard.

“I’m the king of curses”, he reminds you all over again.

“And with being your favorite, you take me places-“

“What the fuck are you talking about?”, he interrupts you roughly.

You roll your eyes in sheer annoyance, nails now digging into his chest.

“Make me your wife so I don’t die”, you finally blurt out.

Is this the reason behind your questionable action? He could have killed you right on the spot and just one look into your gleaming orbs tells him that you know that all too well. And still, you risked your life for him to protect yours. Were you really so sure you’d be able to seduce the king of curses with a lousy dress and some high heels?

“Why would I do that?”

Enough playing. He should behead you right on the spot before torturing you for the time you wasted. You aren’t even worthy to breathe the same air as him, let alone being this close to his body.

But…Why isn’t he able to simply throw you off, then? Why is he even questioning what you’re up to, replaying your words over and over in his mind?

“Because I’ll let you taste-“

Your mouth is so close to his ear that your hot breath caresses his skin while the filthiest thoughts leave you with ease. His eyes grow wider and wider with each passing second, disgusted but at the same time…

“Enough”, he hisses through gritted teeth while grabbing your shoulders roughly.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Aren’t you at least a little invested? I have a lot to offer”, you reply, ignoring his last question elegantly.

The war inside his head makes him forget that he’s actually out on a mission for a moment. You…you are so different from all those other jujutsu sorcerers, risked your puny life so that he eventually watches over you. How ridiculously brave, how fucking stupid. But still, when your gleaming eyes rest on his face like that, that oh so cheeky grin plastered on your face you make him wonder. A wife, his favorite?

Before he’s able to think straight again, a wave of freezing mist darts towards you at neck-breaking speed. His heart skips a beat, eyes darting towards Uraume who fixates you with hate dripping from every poor of her warped face.

You won’t be fast enough. No jujutsu sorcerer except for Gojo Satoru himself is able to escape Uraume’s powers when surprised. If he doesn’t react, you’ll die. But isn’t that what he wants, that you finally vanish into thin air and leave him alone? You, the girl who just claimed him as her husband only because she doesn’t want to die.

“No.”

His body moves on its own. All of the sudden he finds himself standing in front of you, his hand deflecting Uraume’s Frost Calm with ease.

“Don’t you dare to hurt her, Uraume.”

You can’t believe it, breath getting stuck in your throat. He really did save you. Even though all you did was purring at him, trying to convince him with sugary words, Ryomen Sukuna stood up for you and defended you against one of his. Out of instinct, you push your wobbly legs off the ground, excitement filling you to the brim. With that oh so cheeky smile, you wrap your arm around his and eye the person in front of you up and down innocently.

“But she…she is a human being, Master. She’s a weakling, one of your enemies”, Uraume breathes out.

“Who allowed you to speak to your Master like that? Get out of my sight and do what you were taught to.”

You watch in awe as the person standing in front of you crumbles, their hateful gaze almost piercing through you like a knife until their gone as fast as they came.

“So, I really am your favorite, huh?”, you hum.

“Shut up brat, I’m the only one who can kill you. Now get going, I have a lot of work to do.”

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain 

@risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

@oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy

[sofreddie]

Not What You Wanted - Part 1

Summary: Being a fan from Ourverse, Chuck brings Y/N to the Supernatural world, but she's determined not to be a pawn.

Characters: Reader, Chuck, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel

Warnings: AU, Angst, Fluff

WC: 3,195

A/N: A new series! I love writing the 'fan reader' stories. It's so much fun, and I'm so excited to hear your thoughts. There will be pairings, and the tags will change, but I don't want to give anything away at the start. Enjoy!

Y/N stood in a wooded area with a canvas backpack slung on her right shoulder, her hand wrapping around it tightly, clinging to it for dear life. She couldn’t believe the mess she had landed in. God - or Chuck as he insisted on being called - had snapped his little fingers and poofed her into his presence.

“You just need to be there for the Winchesters,” Chuck shrugged with a smile that attempted to comfort but came across as suspicious. “Easy for a fangirl, right?” 

She growled in irritation, dropped to one knee, and looked at her wooded surroundings again before searching through the bag Chuck had provided her. It contained several survival-type items—matches, a Zippo lighter, a small notepad, and a cheap pen—and a few items of clothing that she recognized as her comfy favorites from her wardrobe back home.

She thought, Back home, realizing it was a different universe away, and she wasn’t sure how she would return. The Winchesters could help, but she had no intention of seeking them out. That’s precisely what Chuck wanted, and she didn’t trust him. She also didn’t want to impose herself on them.

“No, I won’t help you manipulate them,” Y/N seethed at the deity. In the back of her mind, she was screaming at herself to stop antagonizing God of all people. People? But she couldn’t help her anger and protectiveness over her favorite heroes.

“You will,” he insisted, suddenly reaching out a hand and placing it flat against her sternum.

She screamed out in pain, dropping to her knees, but his hand never left her. She thought she was being tortured or possibly killed, but then he removed his hand, and she dropped forward on her hands, trying to catch her breath.

Rising to her feet, she felt strange. She tested herself by stretching her limbs and splaying her fingers. She felt physically and mentally fit in a way she never had. Deciding she would investigate later, she chose a direction, walking to find her way out of these random woods and into some kind of civilization. 

Y/N wasn’t sure what Chuck had planned for her or the Winchesters, but free will, right? She wouldn’t be a pawn for him to use against them or burden them. Honestly, she was more than a little terrified to even see them for real.

Yes, she was a fan, but they didn’t do well with fans.

Or things from other universes.

Or Chuck.

Besides that, this was not some PG-14 TV show anymore; it was reality. And reality had no rating. The truth was that they could just as quickly turn on her as they could help her, and she didn’t want to take the chance. It wasn’t like she thought very highly of herself, so why would they?

After several minutes, she saw a break-off in the distance, a small road ahead. She put a little more pep in her step, eager to try and find a way to earn some money and start getting herself established here.

Maybe Chuck would find her and send her home.

Maybe he’d kill her.

Regardless, she needed to find a way to survive in this world without coming into contact with the Win--

She froze as she broke through the treeline, two pairs of eyes looking over her, catching her breath in her throat. She knew her eyes were wide, their brows furrowing as their gazes swept over her.

It was them.

Sam and Dean Winchester.

They were standing on either side of the Impala, parked in front of the Bunker entrance. Of course, she’d recognized all of it immediately. Of fucking course, she had to have picked the wrong direction to go.

They were immensely bigger and hotter in person. Her breathing and heart rate picked up as her wide eyes roamed them. She felt an intense urge to run to them, confess everything, and simply be in their aura. But she reminded herself why she was avoiding them to begin with. To top it off, she did not want to come across as another Becky.

“You okay, Miss?” Sam spoke, breaking the stare-off.

Sam’s voice was deep but smooth, the rumbling sound of it like thunder rolling through her and vibrating in her chest. He was so very tall and broad, casting an immensely formidable figure. His long, chestnut locks tousled in the breeze, a light stubble adorning his chiseled jaw. She tried to guess when she might be by his hairstyle but was too distracted by his appearance to think clearly. 

“Um-” What the hell was she supposed to say or do?!

“Did something happen?” Sam asked, turning away from the car and approaching her slowly. His hands were raised to show her he meant no harm.

Oh great! I must look like a terrified animal.

She glanced over her shoulder, wondering if she could run back into the woods and if they would just let her be. Instead, she turned around to look at the brothers.

Sam stood with a worried look as he patiently waited for her to respond. Dean, however, looked pensive and ready for a fight as he reached a hand under his shirt to the back of his pants. Her eyes widened with understanding, an idea suddenly occurring to her.

“I was just trying to get to the bus station,” she uttered, shifting her feet and looking at the ground. “My boyfriend-”

She trailed off, allowing the silence to fill with assumption. She never really needed to act, but she felt pretty proud of herself as Dean’s face hardened and his posture stiffened. His eyes swept her head to toe, likely looking for injuries.

“He hurt you?”

Dean was immediately on guard when this random woman emerged from the woods, expecting the worst: maybe a demon or witch? Now, he felt exceptionally protective and a bit aggressive about it. It was a confusing roller coaster on top of everything else churning within.

The deep timbre of Dean's voice only seemed to accentuate the anger radiating from him. She knew Dean had periods of absolute ire, but she didn't know what scenario was the source in this instance. The Bunker existed, so she knew she was within a specific time frame. But she also knew their lives within those walls were chaotic and dangerous.

“I just,” she stuttered, taking a deep breath. She, indeed, was afraid. But it was of the men standing in front of her. She let her fear show and covered it in her lie. “I just need to get away.”

“Okay,” Sam nodded in understanding.

Like his brother, Sam felt wave after wave of strong emotions regarding this mysterious woman. She looked terrified. However, his hunter instincts were on high alert - as always with unfamiliar people - his need to protect was the strongest. He found it quite odd that he practically needed to help her. Like a spark or draw to her that felt almost supernatural.

Reaching into his back pocket, Sam flashed his FBI badge and a reassuring smile. She tried not to smile back, knowing the badge wasn’t real.

“My partner and I are FBI. We can give you a ride to the bus station.”

Well, this is undoubtedly fortuitous: a ride to the bus station. They’ll drop her off, and she’ll be on her way; they’ll never see her again. Okay. She could do this. Just ride in the backseat of Baby with the Winchesters. 

No big deal.

She lowered her gaze to the ground, nodding slightly, “Okay.”

Her voice was so small she wasn't sure they’d heard it. After the two men exchanged whispered words and silent gestures, Sam returned to the passenger side, and Dean opened the back door, gesturing for her to get inside.

She slid into the backseat, giving Dean a small smile, trying not to be completely fucking wrecked over how beautiful he was up close. She muttered a ‘thank you,’ Dean closed the door and climbed behind the steering wheel. She let her nervousness show as she focused out the window, allowing her mind to try and formulate a plan. She didn’t have any money, but maybe there was a shelter in town, or she could hitch a ride to a bigger city with one and go from there.

Caught up in her planning, she didn’t register the whispered and expression-strewn conversation Sam and Dean exchanged on the quiet ride through town. 

“You feel something, too?” Dean whispered to his brother as he glanced in the rearview mirror, wary of eavesdropping.

Sam nodded, swallowing hard and glancing over the seat. Her gaze was glued to the passing scenery through the window, clearly off in her world of thoughts. She hadn’t realized they’d parked the car; her attention broke when Dean opened the back door for her again.

She exited the car and looked over the small local bus station building. Turning back towards the brothers with a genuine smile, she was surprised to see them smiling back at her. 

“Thank you,” she offered before walking toward the building. A hand on her shoulder stopped her, and she turned to see Dean smiling down at her.

“Here,” he offered, handing her a sizable wad of cash. She smirked when he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “It’s all we have on us, but I hope it helps you get wherever you’re going. I’m sorry for what you’re going through.”

Sam reached forward to hand her something but tripped, a bit of his bottled water sloshing over the rim and on her. She jumped in surprise but gave a forgiving smile, wiping the wetness from her arm.

“Sorry about that,” Sam laughed awkwardly, brushing his hands hastily over the wet spots in a vain attempt to wick away the moisture. His borrowed silver ring from Dean brushed over the exposed skin of her hand. They exchanged another look before turning their attention back to her.

“Thanks again,” she pocketed the cash, waving to them both before heading inside.

The brothers hesitated a while, conversing while leaning on the car's roof. From this distance and through the windows, it was almost like watching the show. Her smile faded as she realized it wasn’t just a show anymore but her world now.

Sam and Dean hopped in the car, and she watched the Impala pull away, heading back the way they had come. She let out a long breath, sad to see them go but glad it was over. At least she couldn’t fuck up their lives now.

She went to the public bathroom, holing up in one of the stalls, and just sat on the seat, taking a long breath. She took the money from her pocket and counted what they’d given her, finding over four hundred dollars in her hand. She smiled and wiped a sudden tear that fell from her eye. That’d be more than enough for her to get settled somewhere.

It suddenly occurred to her that they could return looking for her, especially if Chuck caught up with them. She suddenly panicked, wanting to figure out how to hide from the Winchesters, Castiel, and Chuck. Heading out of the bus station, Y/N walked down the street. It didn’t take her long to find what she sought.

-

Dean parked the Impala in front of the Bunker again; he and his brother were silent the whole ride back from the bus station. They both felt like they had to help her and gave her all the cash they had on them. They both felt uncomfortable about just leaving her at the bus station. Now that they were back home, they both felt a heaviness weighing on them.

“Something feels off,” Sam mumbled, Dean grunting in agreement as the two tried to rack their brains for any reason they would feel like this. “Like leaving the stove on or forgetting something important,” Sam continued, Dean grunting his acknowledgment.

Trying to shake it off, they climbed out of the Impala, ready to move on from the unusual day. But the sudden appearance of Castiel in front of the car gave them both the suspicion that their ill feelings weren’t wrong.

“Dean,” Castiel spoke in his gravelly tone. “Sam.”

“Cas,” Dean greeted in turn. “What’s up?”

Castiel looked around their surroundings, focusing on the woods before returning to the brothers, “There was a shockwave of powerful energy that I followed to this area,” the Angel explained. “And a new…presence,” his face pinched with confusion. “Have you noticed anything unusual?”

The brothers looked at each other before glancing back to the woods.

“Nothing,” Sam offered. “There was a woman who came out of the woods,” he said, brow furrowing. “She said she was trying to get to the bus station, so we took her,” he shrugged.

“Did she say anything else? Did you feel or sense anything about her?”

“What’s with all the questions, Cas?” Dean inquired.

“Just…answer the question.”

Sam was taken aback by Cas’ harsh attitude, but after a quiet side-glance to Dean, he responded. “She felt…familiar, somehow. And we felt we had to protect her. That we needed to help her.”

Castiel examined each of the brothers more intently, coming to stand before them and sniffing them, making them flinch away from the awkwardness.

“What the Hell are you doing, Cas?” Dean growled.

“You both have a scent of that power about you,” Cas explained, the brothers' eyes going comically wide. 

“What are you getting on about?” Dean growled again, more than done with Cas’s weirdness but not appreciating the sinking feeling in his gut.

The Angel sighed, glancing around himself once more. “I don’t know,” Cas admitted with a frown. “It must have something to do with the energy surge.” 

Castiel looked to the woods again before walking off into them, the brothers following a few steps behind. Following some invisible trail, he came to a sudden stop. He could feel immense energy crackling in the air, setting his hair to stand on end.

I feel the presence of God, Castiel thought to himself in awe, his hand held out before him, eyes closed as he felt the air. He sniffed and sighed, his eyes falling closed again. It’s the same smell. But why- he pondered -would God bring someone here? She had to have been brought for the Winchesters, considering Cas could tell both brothers had just met their soulmate. It was too coincidental and had to be the same person God had brought. 

"So?" Dean asked, his hands tucked in his jacket pockets as he shrugged, "What did you find?"

Sam stood in almost the same position, the brothers side-by-side. They looked tired and worn, but there was much going on that needed their time and attention, and Castiel needed their help if he was going to defeat Metatron. Deciding he would look into it later, Castiel determined the distraction wasn't another burden the Winchesters needed.

"An energy signal," Cas explained. "But I'm not sure if it's important. I'll look into it later."

"But you said-" Sam began to argue, remembering his comments from earlier.

"We got bigger fish to fry," Dean sided with Cas, grabbing his bag and heading inside the Bunker.

He wasn't ready to handle the possibility of what Castiel had said. He was dealing with enough already and was in no condition to entertain the thought. He focused on finding and killing Metatron, pushing everything else out of his mind. 

Sam and Cas exchanged looks before Sam relented and followed his brother inside the Bunker.

-

As the large metal door of the Bunker clanked closed, several others found their way into the woods, guided by the same energy that had drawn the Angel’s attention. Three men strolled into the clearing where the energy signal had drawn them. Eyes flashing black as coal, they sniffed at the air and searched the ground. Finding nothing outside the energy, one of the men pulled his cell phone from his pocket, dialing and holding the receiver to his ear.

“We searched, but there’s nothing here,” the demon spoke into the phone, his affirming nod unseen by the caller on the other end. “Right, we’ll follow the energy and see what we find.”

“So?” One of the demon companions asked.

“Follow your nose,” the first demon replied, tucking his phone away and following the trail. 

It didn’t take long before they were breaking through the woods, the ever-fading energy guiding them. At the sight of the famed black Chevy Impala parked outside a large, abandoned building, the demons knew they were on to something.

“Winchesters,” he sneered, the other demons shifting uncomfortably. He sniffed the air again, his head turning away from the building and the car.

“We should go before they show up,” the third demon commented, his fear evident. 

“This way,” the first demon stated as he wandered away from the car and building, following the feel and scent of the powerful energy. “Crowley’s more interested in the power surge than the Winchesters. We’ll tell him what we found after we track the source.”

Reluctantly, the other two demons followed their companion, intent on completing their mission and pleasing their King.

-

Y/N winced as she adjusted her clothes against the raw and sore skin. The tattoos hurt but were necessary. She was lucky she paid attention when she watched the show, remembering sigils that would ward her against being found by anyone. Step one in securing her new existence.

Now, on to her next step of the plan.

She knew the Winchesters and their tactics, at least to a degree. She wasn’t sure if they knew who she was or if they would come looking for her, but she didn’t want to take the chance. So she bought a bus ticket. ‘Longest route with the most stops,’ she had asked the lady behind the counter with a warm smile. With many stops, she hoped it would take them quite a while to track each one down. She smirked to herself, remembering the main character in a book she’d read once doing something similar. Her obsession with escaping into fantasy was proving its worth.

After purchasing the ticket, she went around the side of the building where many people were waiting to board their various buses. Amongst the commotion, she slipped through and out the back of the bus lot, making her way down the street. She did not intend to get on the bus but rather create a paper trail for them to follow. She hated wasting money and having so little to work with, but she needed to be safe.

Over the next hour, she walked through town, purchasing a room at a motel, then walking down the street to another and buying a room there, before finally settling on a third on the far end of town. She paid cash at each and registered with a fake name. She knew she’d have to put protections on the room, but for now, she was exhausted and felt safe enough to try and catch some sleep before moving on again.

PART 2

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[jujuicykaisen]

If I may ask, who do you think jjk has the biggest predator/prey kink? I'm so thinking gojo is a strong contender in his feral state or perhaps Geto in his cult leader era( especially if the reader is either a weaker sorcerer or a non- sorcerer) 🤭

Ooh, good question!

Characters: Ryomen Sukuna, Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto

Contents: gn!reader, sub/dom play, primal play, predator/prey play, biting, breathplay, unhealthy relationship dynamics, Sukuna is his own warning

Ryomen Sukuna

For Sukuna this is less of a kink and more of a lifestyle. Everyone’s the prey, and he’s the apex predator. That is his mindset, and very little can change it. Even if you are considered worthy enough (or satisfying/amusing/useful enough to sit at his side, it’ll always, always be in a subordinate position. Naturally, this applies to the bedroom (or whatever location he feels like) too.

He’ll take you by your throat, holding you with just enough pressure that you can feel your pulse pounding against his fingertips, without cutting off the circulation, just enough so that every breath feels like a precious gift, and he will rasp at you to “Run.”

He takes the idea of primal play very literally. 

He’ll conjure endless mazes in his domain and force you to run through them, his mocking laughter ringing in your ears from all sides as you flee futilely from the King of Curses. 

“Run faster. I want to play with my offering before I eat it.”

Thankfully, you know he doesn’t intend on actually eating you (you hope), so he has a more erotic and carnal kind of consumption in mind. 

When he catches you…oh, when he catches you.

He’ll fuck you against the nearest surface, whether that happens to be a wall, a floor, a table, his throne, or a pile of bones. Depending on how hot his blood is running from the chase, he might hold your legs open and feast on you until you kick and beg for reprieve, or he’s jumping straight into fucking you. 

He’s the King of Overstimulation as well as the King of Curses. He likes how you buck and squirm, cry and claw at him when it all gets to be too much for you. If you bite him, he just fucks you harder.

Hand around your throat, pinning you down by it, he leers at you and calls you his “feral little beast” in a tone of deep, smug approval.

Satoru Gojo

With Gojo, it’s always usually going to be a bedroom-play kind of thing. He’s probably too lazy to get into full BSDM stuff, but he’s definitely not above using his superior height, weight, and strength to introduce some domination play into your activities. 

Holding you down turns him on, especially if it’s a mating press kind of position, where you’re almost folded in half, legs over his shoulders, and he’s plunging in deep. The way you cry out and dig your fingernails into his biceps either side of your head gives him almost as much pleasure as the way you clench around him.

However, he does have that other side to him. The one we see when he’s fighting Jogo and Hanami. Feral, fearless, fully in his element as the strongest sorcerer in the world. If he’s just had a fight like that, and he comes home drunk on his own power, high off the battle, then it’s actually a little alarming when those glowing blue eyes fixate on you like you’re the next thing he needs to conquer. 

You give into some instinct and bolt up the stairs, breathless with nervous anticipation,  only for Gojo to appear right behind you. Did he warp, or is he just moving that crazy fast? Either way, doesn’t matter. Clothes? Gone. You? On your back.

For a split second you get a chance to see what it is like to be a curse, facing down the inevitability that is Satoru Gojo. Fortunately for you, he has much different plans in mind than exorcising you. More like, exercising you…

“Got you,” he says.

Picture him running his hands up the insides of your thighs, that feral, hungry look on his face.

“This is where you’re weak, right?”

Suguru Geto

Geto definitely has a very hierarchical view of the world. There are sorcerers, non-sorcerers, and curses. (Not necessarily in that order. He might even rank humans below curses in terms of worthiness.) He considers even some of his fellow sorcerers as beneath him, especially if they oppose his world view or are just too weak to be of use to him. 

If you’re a weak sorcerer, or worse, not a sorcerer at all, then he definitely views you as some kind of prey. Whatever qualities it is you possess that has made him overlook your inferior state of being aren’t enough to make him see you as an equal. (This is not a healthy relationship, but oh boy, is it exciting.)

He’ll make a game out of tracking you down. Perhaps send you on a wild goose chase errand and subtly let you know he’s watching you. Presuming you can see curses, he’ll send the ones in his control to follow you, to make you feel hunted

This also happens if you go out without permission. He always knows where to find you. 

Geto follows at a distance, a smirk curling the corners of his mouth as he watches you stumble away from the terrifying creatures that loom up at you out of every shadow.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” His voice is mocking. “Don’t you like my friends?”

The intent is to drive you back to him, back into his arms, where you’ll admit that he’s the strong one, the superior one, and submit. 

He has a tendency to wrap his large hand around your throat during sex, as if to emphasise that every breath you take is at his leisure. He’s not the type to resort to being rough when mind games and intimidation will do.

He’s a persistence predator.

[bullet-prooflove]

Atomic: Jesse Van Horn x Reader

Tagging: @caffeinatedwoman @cosmic-psychickitty @kmc1989 @happyfox43 @julius-ceasar

Companion piece to

Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll - Jesse tries to convince you not to disrupt your trip during the aftermath of Pittfest.

Song 2 (NSFW) - Jesse tries to chase away his demons the only way he knows how.

Jesse’s HIV status is a cosmic joke.

It wasn’t the sex, the drugs or the rock and roll that gave him the infection, or the years he spent on tour with his band fucking around.

It was a needle stick that occurred over a decade after he had decided to settle down and become a nurse.

He’d been helping out the street team when he’d been summoned to the tent of an unhoused person undergoing an O.D. He’d given them a dose of Narcan, helped shift them out of the tent and into an ambulance before Donnie had clapped his hand on his shoulder and told him not move.

He'd followed the other man’s gaze down to his calf, to where a dirty syringe was sticking out of his leg and sighed because that kinda shit was an occupational hazard.

He remembers being extremely pissed off at the time because he knew the barrage of tests he was going to have undertake over the next few months, that the meds they’d give him to stave off anything he could have contracted would make him sick.

When the pathology results had come back on the syringe testing positive for HIV he was almost relieved because he knew the chances of contracting the virus were under 1%. He’d been more worried about Hepatitis.

They’d taken his blood, dosed him with meds and made an appointment for a HIV test outside of the ‘window period’ and he’d carried on his life with protective measures, just in case.

It’s a month later he’d started to get flu-like symptoms, sore throat, fever, fatigue and that’s when he knew he was the unluckiest son of a bitch on the planet.

“I have done some fucked up shit in my life. The drugs, the orgies…” He says, his head in his hands at the kitchen table after he gets his results. “But it’s this job, the one I love that fucking gets me.”

He cries for the first time in years that night. His face buried into the hollow of your throat as your fingers comb through his silver curls. HIV may not be the death sentence it was in the 80s but staring down the barrel of that gun, it’s terrifying.

It takes him a while to come to terms with the diagnosis, his moods swing from depressed to angry and then back again. He stays in bed for days at a time until you pull back the covers and urge him to rejoin the world. He feels like a ghost as he goes through the motions, moving through it without actually experiencing it.

“This is not the end of you.” You had told him one night during a low point as you cradled his face between your hands. “I am right here with you, you just need to take my hand so we can cross this shitty bridge and get to the other side.”

He goes to see a counsellor after that because it becomes clear he’s not coping and the color starts to bleed back into his world all over again. He’ll never forget the smile on your face when he picked up the guitar again after almost six months of collecting dust, his fingers plucking at the strings to Blondie’s Atomic.

“I hope that’s not a sign.” You’d said half seriously as you leaned in the doorway. “A song about one last passionate night in the midst of Armageddon.”

“No.” He’d smiled, a loose silver curl falling over his forehead. “It was the song that was playing the first time you told me you loved me in Blenheim.”

Your thighs straddling his hips, his arm looped around your waist keeping you close as he pressed deep. Your fingers had run through his curls, gripping them, tugging his head back so his eyes were on yours the whole time as you held him right there at the peak of nirvana.

“Look at me Jesse.” You had murmured. “See how much I love you baby.”

He had never come as hard as he had in that moment, knowing you were his, that you would always be his.

He’s been thinking about that a lot recently, how touch starved he’s become after his initial diagnosis. You both thrive off physical connection and Jesse, he’s been holding back, pulling away.

He brings that energy from Blenheim into the bedroom that night. It’s the first time he’s touched you intimately since the needle stick, the first time he’s not afraid. When he reaches for a condom, he fumbles with it and the two of you laugh because you both used to be so practised about it during your first couple of years together.

“It’s like being 26 all over again.” He tells you, biting back a groan as you roll the latex down over his cock.

“By that logic we’ll have worked our way through this entire pack by tomorrow morning.” You’d smiled as you guided him back to that sweet spot between your thighs.

Making love to you had been a gamechanger. All those shitty feelings he’d had about himself had evaporated because you still wanted him, you still loved him. His diagnosis was just a bump in the road in the love story the two of you have spent years weaving, even if he couldn’t see it at the time.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask him as he sits with his back against the headboard, the sheets pooling around his bare hips.

You’re standing before him in his white The Clash tank top, and nothing else. It’s three in the morning and you’ve just gotten in from a talk in Ontario, he can tell you’re still a little wired from your flight.

“Being 26 again.” He says as he picks up a condom from the nightstand and holding it up between his fingers.

He’s had a viral load blip recently, a reaction to his latest COVID vaccination. Instead of his usual 150, it had jumped past the threshold for undetectable. It’s not enough to be a concern, he’s sure it’ll have dropped again by his next testing, the same way it had all the other times but your safety is paramount to him even with the PrEP.

“Well if you really want to set the mood.” You respond, picking up your phone and pairing it with the Bluetooth speakers. Blondie’s Atomic begins to play and Jesse can’t help but grin as you reach between the two of you stroking his cock as you whisper into ear. “It was Blenheim 2005…”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[farfromstrange]

Okay, so, I am putting my thoughts under a cut. HEAVY spoilers for both episode 1 and 2 of Daredevil: Born Again. They are scrambled, and I’m gonna need a day to actually write something coherent, but I need to talk SCREAM ABOUT IT.

WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUUUUUCK

SCREAMING CRYING DYING FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

Cancel MARVEL CANCEL DISNEY CANCEL THEM ALL FUCK THEM

They fucking killed Foggy. That last bit of hope I had shattered when his fucking eyes stayed open and his heart stopped. I started sobbing the moment Karen started begging him to stay with her. She was sobbing, MATT sobbing, I think we were all sobbing. The way he just… stopped fighting when Foggy died. The way he CRIED against DEX like his fucking heart just shattered, and we could all see it. I can’t-

The world ended the moment he died, for both Karen and Matt and everyone else who loved Foggy, and part of me doesn’t want to believe it, but if it is a fake-out, it’s the best one in history because I do not believe he’s still alive. Not after what I’ve seen, but I’d love to be proved wrong BECAUSE THIS CANNOT BE THE FUCKING END. It just can’t.

Matt threw Dex OFF THE ROOF! He WANTED him to die, or he was taking that chance. That blank look on his face just said “Nothing matters now anyway” and he abandoned all his principles because his best friend got killed. He loved Foggy, and now he’s dead. What kills me most is that Karen had to watch Foggy die—she held him in her fucking hands with his blood all over her—and Matt HEARD him die. How is that fucking fair?!

Quick side note about the intro: We’ve got the original theme slightly modified and I actually kinda like the imagery of the statues breaking! It’s as devastating as it is cool.

Anyway. We learned that Karen left for San Francisco. Matt and Karen kind of stopped talking, which, after what happened, I understand. I did NOT see coming though the fact that she’d go so far. Of course, their relationship didn’t have much of a future after that because people deal with grief differently and they both had to get out, but it was devastating to witness Matt being desperate because his world fell apart, and Karen just looking so, so broken for the same reasons. I mean, Matt begging her to give him just five minutes to talk? He sounded so soft. So… God, I can’t even put it into words. They’re both so broken oh my god.

What also got me was her keeping the horn and then giving it to him. (And later he fucking put the ‘in memory of Foggy Nelson’ card in his coat when meeting Heather. He’s always keeping him close to his heart, I’m crying.)

My thoughts are a mess right now. Matt started a firm with Kirsten, and I mean, good for him but everything just fell apart, and they (Matt and Karen) don’t even have each other anymore because they’re fighting their demons on their own. I can’t deal with this. Matt is alone in that big ass apartment with that piece of paper from Foggy’s memorial, cooking and watching the news and trying to move on from everything that happened, and he’s just so goddamn miserable. But who wouldn’t be?

Ben Urich’s niece! That’s all I’m gonna say.

Kirsten setting Matt up was the highlight for me because it made things a little lighter, but that man also needs serious therapy. At least we got him being a flirty flustered little shit though!!

I don’t think I have to say more about the diner scene. It was as intense as it was refreshing to see them talk like that without trying to kill each other.

Mayor Fisk!! Vincent’s performance is top tier! Love how he’s having a marital dispute with Vanessa and now Vanessa’s basically Kingpin and he’s yearning to get her back 😭

And the kiss at the end?? Why’s he so fucking hot and charming? Jesus Christ I almost forgot I was devastated.

I can’t even put into words the things I’m feeling right now. I- I need a few hours of sleep and a clearer mind because I’m still teary-eyed.

Another thing. They portrayed his senses surprisingly well, but Charlie also did an impeccable job. God, that man can ACT! Not that I ever doubted it. There is no better Matt Murdock than him. And he just proved again why I love this character so much.

Onto the second episode!

WHITE TIGER! Amazing introduction of the character. 10/10.

Love seeing Fisk being mayor and trying to do things the legal way, but we all now that’s not gonna stick. Not really.

Corrupt cops! And Matt jumping in to help Hector! That’s my man! He’s still Matt, he cares about injustice, so how can he not help? He can never give that piece of himself up, and I love that he refuses to. Seems like it’s finally giving him a purpose again. Seeing him in court again, being a lawyer, is so refreshing (and hot).

I absolutely love that they made sure that Ben Urich’s legacy lives on in his niece (BB) and GIRL does she seem determined. But I feel like she might get herself in trouble, especially with Fisk and his history with Ben. That’s gonna be interesting! Hope her and Matt get to meet, too.

Could that boy talking to Heather at her book signing (pop off by the way, we love a successful queen) and asking her for help be Muse? I don’t know much about that character, so I’ll let myself be surprised. Makes me scared for what’s gonna happen to her though. I don’t know how much more loss Matt can take, especially since we know he’ll choose to pursue something with her, romantically.

BACK TO FHE FLIRTING! Dinner date? Talking about traveling and having Mai tai’s? Having a future together? Oh, he’s so into her! And he’s smiling and laughing and God he needs that. Also, Matt being so ready to get a taste of Heather? I’m screaming. Choking on his drink and “I’ll take the check, please” AND “I’ll pay you back, in interest” SIR! YOU CANT DO THIS TO MEEEE!

I did not expect Fisk and Vanessa to go to Heather for couple’s therapy but honestly it’s kind of funny. Also curious to see where this goes, especially if/when Matt finds out.

HE STOOD OUTSIDE A CHURCH! I REPEAT, HE STOOD OUTSIDE A CHURCH! But he didn’t go in, so another crisis of faith, Perhaps?

HOLY FUCK! That fight?? Matt beating the shit out of these corrupt cops without any suit or gear to protect him, breaking fucking home WITH THOSE WILD EYES?? And the scream HOLY SHIT FUCK I NEED HIM AHHHH

Okay, that’s all. I need to give myself a moment to breathe now.